Irresistible Greeks: Unsuitable and Unforgettable. Jane Porter

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СКАЧАТЬ SEVEN

      THERE was nothing wrong with Victoria. She was beautiful, she was pleasant. Smart. She would make a wonderful queen. Over dinner she’d talked at great length concerning how passionate she was about charities, starting foundations and visiting hospitals.

      She possessed all the qualities he required for a bride.

      Yet as he thought of binding himself to her, he felt nothing. No matter how hard he tried. He felt like he was being suffocated. As if the weight of the crown would physically crush him.

      Don’t think of marriage. Think of sex.

      If he could find a connection with her on that level, then maybe nothing else would matter. If he could flirt and put them both at ease, put a wall between them, maybe the tightness in his throat would abate.

      When the limo stopped in front of the hotel she looked at him from beneath her lashes, her open, friendly expression changing. Seduction, he decided, was her intent. Good. He knew the game. Often, he relished the game.

      So, why didn’t he feel anything? Nothing. Not even the slightest twinge of interest in his stomach. When she cocked her head to the side and licked her lips, there was no answering tug in his groin. Indeed, there was no signal coming from south of his belt at all. It was as though that member of his body hadn’t registered her existence.

      He was a man, a man with a healthy appetite for sex. And she was, on paper, a sexually attractive woman. What he should be doing was pressing her back against the soft leather seat and claiming her soft pink lips.

      His body rejected the idea while his mind replaced the image of a rosy pink mouth with one painted in temptation red. And with that image came a tightness in his chest, his heart pounding harder, his mind suddenly filled with Jessica.

      “I had a nice time at dinner,” he said.

      “So did I,” she said, cocking her head to the side even farther. Why was it that some women thought affecting the mannerisms of a cocker spaniel was sexy?

      Except, usually, he would find this sexy. He just didn’t now. No use pretending he didn’t know why.

      “Good night,” he said, opening the door to the limo and stepping out into the cool night. He held the door for her, giving as strong of a hint as he could.

      She frowned and slid out, her body on the opposite side of the door to his. “I had a … a really nice time.” Her blue eyes were locked with his, her intentions obvious.

      “So you said.”

      “I appreciate you taking me out.”

      “We’ll go out again. When I’m through with my business here.” Where was the flirtation? Why couldn’t he even pretend that he was interested? Whatever he felt for Jessica, it shouldn’t have the power to reach him here and now. It shouldn’t be able to control his thoughts and actions. That was the sort of thing he’d spent most of his adult life fighting.

      “Oh … okay.” She smiled. “That’s good, right?”

      It should have been. But he didn’t have any sort of positive feeling about it. “You’re a … nice woman, Victoria.”

      Nice? Where the hell had his seduction skills gone?

      “Thank you. You’re a nice man, Stavros.” She cleared her throat. “Good night, then?”

      “Good night,” he said.

      She stepped out of the way of the door and he closed it firmly. He would walk her into the hotel, as was the appropriate thing to do, but that was all.

      She looked at him one more time in the lobby of the hotel, requesting a kiss, and when he took a step back he could have sworn he saw a fleeting hint of relief in her eyes.

      “Hopefully we’ll see each other again soon,” she said.

      “Hopefully,” he said, turning and leaving her in the lobby.

      He felt no such hope. He would see her again though. Just because something in him was off at the moment didn’t mean she wasn’t the right candidate for the job. For the marriage.

      He grimaced, lifted his hand to loosen his tie, which suddenly felt like a hangman’s noose.

      Victoria was a sound choice.

      He gritted his teeth. Yes, she was a sound choice. It didn’t matter that he desired someone else. Desire, no matter how strong, did not have a say in the future of his country. Desire could not shake his resolve.

      He closed his eyes for a moment, clenched his hands into fists to disguise the unsteadiness in his fingers. It was only lust. Nothing special. Nothing important. A picture of Jessica flashed through his mind and there was an answering kick in his gut.

      In spite of his intentions, desire seemed to be shaking him from the inside out. And what he really didn’t want to believe was that a whole lot more than desire was making him tremble.

      Jessica wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from the view of the ocean, leaning against the rail of the terrace, the salted breeze blowing at her back, tangling in her hair. She wondered what Stavros was doing. If his date with Victoria has been successful.

      Part of her hoped that it had been. He could marry her and they could have gorgeous, royal babies that could inherit the throne of Kyonos. They could be all sexy and royal together and she could go back to her empty house and contemplate the merit of getting a cat.

      Yes, that was a good plan. A solid plan. She could name her cat Mittens.

      “And how was your evening?”

      She turned and her breath caught in her throat, forcing a sharp, gasping sound. Stavros was in the doorway, his black tie draped over his shoulder, the first three buttons of his shirt undone, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

      He looked like he’d been undressed. She tried to smile while her stomach sank slowly into her toes, jealousy an acrid thing that ate at her insides, working its way out.

      “I think that’s my line,” she said. Her words scraped over her dry throat.

      “Lovely. Not nearly as lovely as you are. But lovely.” A smile curved his lips and he stepped fully onto the deck, closing some of the distance between them.

      There was something strange about his manner. Something too slack. Too easy. “Have you been drinking?”

      “Not even a little. But you do make me feel a bit lightheaded.”

      “Seriously. What the heck, Stavros?”

      “Careful, agápe, you’ll make me think I’ve lost my touch.”

      “What did I tell you about not flirting with me?” Rather than the sort of shaky, sexy unease she usually felt when he flirted with her, she only felt anger. He had no right to do this to her. No right at all. He had been on a date with another woman. A date that, ideally, would be the beginning of a ‘til-death sort of relationship.

      “You told me СКАЧАТЬ