Nine Months to Tame the Tycoon--An Uplifting International Romance

by Chantelle Shaw

  Lissa did not want to think about him. She kissed Takis unguardedly, parting her lips beneath the pressure of his, and then tentatively dipped her tongue into his mouth. He made a feral noise like the growl of a wolf, and she felt empowered by the realisation that this impossibly gorgeous man desired her. At last he lifted his mouth from hers, but only so that he could trail kisses over her jaw and cheek. His beard felt abrasive against her skin and when he gently nipped her earlobe with his teeth, a shiver ran through her and she pressed herself closer to his hard body.

  ‘Thélo na se do,’ Takis muttered. Lissa wondered if he was aware that she spoke Greek. Pappoús had insisted that his grandchildren learn the language of his birth. She knew Takis had said, I want to see you.

  The implication of his words shattered the sensual spell he had cast over her. She tensed when he moved his hand to her nape and tugged the ribbon of her halter-neck dress. In the past, photographs of her wearing a skimpy bikini had appeared in the tabloids, but she had never taken her top off in front of anyone, except for that one shameful incident when she’d been seventeen. The memory made her go cold, and common sense replaced the fire in her blood.

  ‘No.’ She pulled free from Takis’s arms and quickly retied the straps at the back of her dress. ‘I... I can’t,’ she said huskily. ‘We need to stop.’

  His eyes narrowed, but he dropped his hands to his sides and made no move towards her. ‘Why?’ he demanded, frustration evident in his curt voice.

  ‘We only met for the first time today.’ A part of her wanted to give in to the wild feelings Takis had aroused in her, to throw caution to the wind and return to his arms. But he was moving too fast. ‘I just think we should slow things down a bit instead of rushing into a relationship.’

  Takis’s dark brows shot up. ‘What kind of relationship were you thinking of? If you were hoping for a grand romance I must disappoint you. But I was under the impression that we both want the same thing.’

  ‘And what is that?’ She was chilled by his cool tone.

  ‘To spend the night together.’ He frowned when she made a choked sound of denial. ‘You flirted with me at the wedding and reception, koúkla mou.’

  ‘I am not your doll. Maybe I did flirt a little. You are very attractive.’ She knew she was blushing and wished she were more experienced. ‘It was harmless fun. I didn’t expect you to kiss me...and for things to get out of hand.’

  His grey eyes were as hard as tensile steel. ‘You were throwing out signals that you wanted to sleep with me.’

  ‘I certainly was not.’ She glared at him, as furious as Takis clearly was. Her conscience pricked that she had responded eagerly to him. His kiss had been a revelation, but while she had been discovering her hitherto unknown sensuality, Takis believed that she had been leading him on.

  ‘I think you should leave,’ she said shakily.

  ‘I agree.’ He strode across the room and paused with his hand on the door handle, turning his head to give her a glowering look. ‘Do you get a kick out of teasing and tantalising a man?’ he said contemptuously.

  She drew a sharp breath. ‘I have the right to say no.’

  ‘Of course.’ He roamed his eyes over her flushed face and lower to the betraying hard points of her nipples jutting beneath her dress. ‘Perhaps you do not know what you want, koúkla mou.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Lissa let out her breath slowly. ‘The truth is that I’m a virgin.’

  Takis stared at her in silence for a few seconds and then he laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh, and it grated on Lissa’s fraught emotions. ‘How do you explain the stories in the media, detailing your affairs with idiotic young men who crave fame and adulation as much as you do?’ he demanded.

  She flushed and said defensively, ‘Everyone knows that the tabloids depend on scandalous stories to sell more copies. Most of the stuff they print is made up or exaggerated.’

  ‘It is you who is a fantasist if you think you can convince me that you are as pure as snow.’

  ‘Isn’t that a case of double standards?’ she demanded. ‘It’s okay for a man to have a playboy reputation, but a woman is a slut.’

  ‘I certainly do not believe that. Women are entitled to a sex life as much as men. But the point I was making is that you are claiming to be a sexual innocent when the evidence is to the contrary.’ He swept his icy gaze over her. ‘You might play games with other men, but don’t try to play them with me.’

  ‘Get out,’ she snapped, goaded beyond endurance.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m going.’

  He went without another word, but the loud slam of the door behind him spoke volumes. Good riddance, Lissa told herself. He was arrogant beyond belief and she hoped she never saw him again. But her traitorous body did not share the sentiment and she ached with sexual frustration that she’d never experienced before, as well as an inexplicable sense of hurt.

  She walked listlessly into the bathroom to remove her make-up before moving into the bedroom where she stripped off her dress and donned a distinctly unsexy nightshirt with a picture of kittens printed on the front.

  Damn Takis Samaras, she thought angrily as she climbed into bed and pummelled the pillows into submission. Why on earth had she blurted out to him that was a virgin? She had never confessed the truth to anyone else, not even her sister. She felt humiliated by Takis’s refusal to believe her and angry with herself for confiding in him.

  As she was about to switch off the lamp, Lissa remembered to take her medication. Eighteen months ago she had been diagnosed with an overactive thyroid and been prescribed tablets to adjust her thyroid levels. Thankfully, the worst symptoms of hyperthyroidism—weight loss, exhaustion and feeling nervous and agitated—were now under control.

  At the time that she had become ill, the tabloids had alleged she was addicted to class A drugs. The story had gained credence when she had been photographed looking painfully thin and drawn, stumbling out of a nightclub. Had Takis seen those photos and assumed that she was the party girl portrayed in certain sections of the media?

  It might explain his behaviour, although it did not excuse it, she thought grimly. The best thing to do was to try to get some sleep and forget about Takis. But when she closed her eyes, she pictured his brutally handsome face. The taste of him was still on her lips and there was a heavy sense of regret in her heart.

  Regret for kissing him. Regret for asking him to stop.

  * * *

  Takis glanced moodily around the packed ballroom where women in brightly coloured dresses flitted like butterflies and men wearing dinner suits resembled penguins. The charity fundraising ball for the Zagorakis Foundation was hosted every year by Jace in Thessaloniki, but this year the venue had been changed to the Pangalos hotel. Takis had cited work commitments as an excuse to stay away. Yet here he was, nursing a stiff Scotch in one hand while he scanned the crowd for Lissa’s distinctive platinum-blonde bob.

  He could not rationalise to himself why he had changed his mind and decided to attend the party. The hotel evoked unwelcome memories of his previous visit when he’d carried Lissa up to the private apartment where she had stayed after Jace and Eleanor’s wedding. For the past month, Takis had tried unsuccessfully to forget the one woman who his instincts warned him to avoid. But his mind kept replaying those moments when he had taken Lissa in his arms and covered her lush, red lips with his mouth.

  Her passionate response had fuelled his desire like a flame to tinder. But then she had pulled back and he’d glimpsed uncertainty in her eyes, a wariness that had puzzled him until he’d reminded himself that she was no doubt playing a manipulative game. He had rejected the idea that her air of innocence could be real when everything else told him it was a lie. Her accusation of double standards was not true. He
did not care how many lovers she’d had, but he put a high value on honesty.

  He’d stormed out of Lissa’s apartment in a furious mood made worse by the nagging ache in his groin. But his anger had been as much with himself as with her. He did not understand why he had come on to her so strongly, or why he’d reacted so badly when she’d rejected him. He’d never had a problem if a woman had said no to him in the past, although it did not happen very often, he acknowledged wryly. He was ashamed that when Lissa had called a halt to their passion he’d reacted like a hormonal adolescent. She made him feel out of control and he knew how dangerous that could be.

  Takis’s thoughts turned to himself as that teenage boy on the cusp of manhood, his body a riot of hormones and his heart craving love that his parents had never given him...

  * * *

  Marina wound her arms around his neck and tugged his mouth down closer to hers. ‘I bet you’ve never kissed a woman before. Shall I show you how it’s done?’

  Takis swallowed hard. His youthful body was so aroused it hurt, but although he hated his father, he felt some loyalty to Spiros. ‘You are my father’s woman,’ he muttered.

  She laughed softly. ‘One kiss won’t hurt.’

  He looked into her dark eyes and felt a rush of emotions as he clumsily pressed his mouth to her lips. His body shook when she parted her lips beneath his. He kissed Marina with all the love in his lonely heart. But there came the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway, warning him that his father had returned to the house.

  Takis hastily stepped away from his stepmother, but she grabbed hold of his arm. ‘Promise that you will take me and Giannis away with you or I will tell Spiros that you kissed me,’ she hissed.

  ‘If you do, he will kill me.’ Takis had suffered his father’s violent temper many times.

  Marina shrugged. ‘You had better start making plans for us to leave.’

  * * *

  The truth had soon become clear to Takis. Marina had manipulated him for her own purpose. In that moment she had shattered his youthful, trusting heart and he’d learned the painful lesson that love was for fools. He had crept out of the house the same night, determined to escape his stepmother’s machinations. Days later, he’d learned that his father, Marina and Giannis had all died when a fire had raged through the house.

  Takis had not mourned Spiros. He had felt some guilt that he’d refused to help Marina get away from his father. But far more devastating had been the realisation that he had abandoned his little brother to a terrible fate. If only he had stayed he would have saved Giannis from the inferno or died trying.

  Takis took a swig of whisky and forced his mind away from the memories that would haunt him forever. In the ballroom, the ongoing battle between the disco music and the white noise of countless conversations was a welcome distraction. He caught sight of Jace and Eleanor dancing close together. The tender expression on his best friend’s face as he looked at his wife startled Takis. He had assumed that Jace’s marriage was a business arrangement that would allow him to claim back his family’s share of the Pangalos hotel. But from what Takis could see, Jace appeared to be captivated by his fair and gentle Eleanor.

  As for that sister of hers... His brows snapped together when he thought of Lissa. It irritated him to have to admit that he was disappointed she was not at the ball. He had been certain she would be at the highly prestigious social event. Partying was what Lissa did best, everyone knew that.

  Pride had prevented him from asking Eleanor if her sister had remained in England. Jace had mentioned that Lissa worked at Francine’s, the hotel in Oxford owned by Gilpin Leisure. Eleanor had inherited the business on her grandfather Kostas Pangalos’s death. Jace had also mentioned that Lissa had been prevented by a clause in her grandfather’s will from accessing her trust fund until she was twenty-five. Perhaps it was for that reason that Eleanor had employed her sister, Takis mused. He could not imagine flighty Lissa holding down a mundane job as a hotel receptionist.

  A commotion over by the doors that led to the terrace caught his attention. An argument had broken out between two young men and they squared up to each other until a figure stepped between them.

  Lissa.

  His heart slammed into his ribs. Why was he surprised that she was at the centre of trouble and more than likely the cause of it? His fingers clenched around his glass as he lifted it to his lips and took another gulp of whisky. Every muscle and sinew in his body was taut and he could hear the hard thud of his pulse in his ears.

  Takis told himself that his reaction to Lissa was no different from that of every other red-blooded male in the room. Her beauty made her the focus of attention and tonight she looked stunning in a sparkly silver sheath dress that moulded her slender figure. The low-cut gown was strapless and had the effect of pushing her small breasts high. A side-split in the long skirt revealed a shapely leg and a tantalising glimpse of a lacy stocking top when she walked.

  He moved his eyes back up to her exquisite face, framed by her blonde hair that flicked against her jawline. She was his hottest sexual fantasy. He must have imagined a vulnerability about her when he’d kissed her. There was no mystery to Lissa Buchanan. She could bring a man to his knees with a smile on those lush lips of hers that promised sensual nirvana.

  He had to have her, Takis realised. Bedding her was the solution that would free him from his inconvenient obsession with her. He beckoned to a waiter and put his empty glass down on the tray but declined another drink. His heart was racing, and he did not need alcohol when anticipation surged through his veins like a powerful drug as he strode across the ballroom.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LISSA FROZE WHEN she spotted Takis threading a path through the crowd on the dance floor towards her. She had only decided to attend the charity ball after her sister had mentioned that Jace’s best friend could not make it. No way did she want to run into the most arrogant man on the planet ever again.

  She was having a perfectly nice time at the party, or so she tried to convince herself. Plenty of men had asked her to dance, and she’d drunk champagne, although she had learned from bitter experience to stick to one alcoholic drink, and she could make a glass of fizz last all night. She had laughed and flirted and pretended to be the glamorous socialite everyone believed her to be. Only she knew that the truth was very different.

  The evening had felt flat, flatter than usual. Until she saw Takis was here and fireworks exploded inside her.

  He halted in front of her. His grey eyes gleamed like polished steel and his chiselled features were utterly mesmerising. Lissa could not look away from him or greet him as coolly as she would if he was any casual acquaintance. Her breath was trapped in her lungs and her mouth had dried.

  Takis looked dangerously sexy dressed all in black—an elegant tuxedo, a silk shirt open at the throat and his bow tie hanging loose around his neck as if he had impatiently tugged the two ends apart.

  ‘I didn’t think you would be at the ball,’ she blurted out, cringing that she appeared so gauche.

  ‘I wrapped up a business meeting quicker than I’d expected and I arrived a few minutes ago. What was all that about?’ he drawled. At her puzzled look, he said, ‘I suppose the two young colts were fighting over you?’

  She blushed because he was so close to the truth. Jean-Claud Delfour’s family owned a vast wine estate in the Loire Valley and Tommy Matheson was the son of an American billionaire. They were at the ball as representatives of their families, who had made large donations to the charity that Jace headed. Lissa had met the two young men on the London party circuit.

  ‘They’ve drunk too much,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I’m not a piece of meat to be fought over. I choose who I want to dance with.’

  Takis’s gaze dropped to her bare shoulders and his mouth crooked in an enigmatic smile. ‘Choose to dance with me.’

  It sounded like an order th
at she had no intention of obeying. But somehow she was standing so close to him that her cheek was against the lapel of his jacket and he slid his arm around her waist. He captured her hand in his and pulled her even closer to his whipcord body.

  It had to be then that the DJ swapped the frenetic disco music for a slow jazz number, Lissa thought despairingly. While she danced with Takis she felt as though they were the only two people in the ballroom, in the universe, moving in perfect synchrony to the slow beat of the music. She was fiercely aware of his hard thighs pressed against her, and his hand at the small of her back exerted pressure to bring her pelvis flush with his.

  His warm breath fanned her cheek as he murmured, ‘You didn’t call.’

  Lissa remembered the text message she had received from him days after her sister’s wedding. She’d left the Pangalos hotel early the next morning to avoid any chance of running into Takis again and had spent several hours at the airport, waiting for her flight to London.

  Back in Oxford, she had thrown herself into her job at Francine’s hotel, where she had been the general manager since Eleanor had married and moved to Greece. Lissa was grateful to her sister for giving her the chance to work in the family business. It was something she had wanted to do—more to prove that she could rather than a burning desire to be a hotel manager. Her grandfather had accused her of lacking a strong work ethic after he’d seen newspaper pictures of her sunbathing on beaches in exotic locations around the world. Out of stubborn pride she had not told him that she fitted her modelling work around studying for a diploma in hospitality management.

  Pappoús had made her feel worthless, but Lissa had hidden her true feelings behind a mask of bravado. Accepting the modelling contract had given her financial freedom. She had pretended to be an irresponsible party girl, partly to annoy her grandfather, but her public image was also a defence to stop anyone discovering that the real Lissa Buchanan felt lost.