by Sarah Morgan
Watching this interaction with frowning dismay, Alesia felt her newly discovered happiness drain out of her. It was quite clear that his relationship with this woman was far more intimate than simple friendship. Was she one of his mistresses? And, if so, past or current? The thought that he’d shared with other women what he’d shared with her made her feel physically ill. If she needed any more evidence that to him it was just sex then she had it now.
And, to make matters worse, the woman hadn’t even glanced in her direction. It was as if she didn’t exist.
Feeling as miserable as she had been happy only moments earlier, Alesia reached for the drink that had been placed by her hand and took several large mouthfuls.
She sat and drank, waiting to be included in the conversation, waiting for Sebastien to introduce her, but he lounged easily in the chair, his handsome face giving nothing away as he listened attentively to the woman who was all but wrapped around him in an attempt to exclude Alesia.
She couldn’t help being aware of the curious stares being cast in her direction. It was hardly surprising that people were looking, she thought gloomily. They were supposed to be newly married and yet Sebastien had clearly forgotten her existence.
Ignored and abandoned, Alesia felt her temper begin to rise as she finished her drink.
Why should she sit there pretending to be invisible?
Too disgusted to watch them any longer and feeling unaccountably light-headed, she fixed her gaze back on the dance floor, feeling a stab of envy as she watched the dancing. On the dance floor she’d had fun. She’d lost herself in the moment. So why shouldn’t she do so again? She held her breath, checking out the number of women dancing alone. There were plenty.
So why shouldn’t she join them?
Without so much as a glance towards her companions, Alesia lifted her chin and stood up, clutching at the table for a moment to gain her balance and then walking purposefully on to the dance floor, looking neither left or right. If anyone was staring, she didn’t want to know.
Once again the music slid into her soul and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, feeling the rhythm flow over her and letting her body move in time. She spun and gyrated, her hair flying across her face, her arms above her head, her hips swaying.
After several minutes a tall blonde man joined her and it was so much fun to be dancing with someone again that she just smiled and matched her movements to his. Nothing mattered, she thought happily, except having fun right now.
She lowered her eyelashes in mute invitation, spun closer and then felt hard fingers digging into her shoulder, hauling her back in a gesture of pure masculine possession. Caught off balance, she staggered and would have collapsed in a heap had not she been held firmly against rock-solid muscle. Dizzily she glanced upwards and clashed with stormy dark eyes shimmering with barely restrained anger. Keeping her clamped against him in an iron grip, Sebastien spoke in Greek to her dance partner and, although Alesia didn’t understand a word of what he said, there was no misunderstanding his icy tone or the barely veiled threat in those midnight-black eyes. She frowned as the blond man cast a nervous glance at the width of Sebastien’s shoulders and melted back into the crowd.
‘What a wimp—’ Alesia muttered with disdain. ‘He might at least have stayed to finish the dance.’
‘He had more sense,’ Sebastien observed harshly, all the volatility of his Mediterranean heritage revealed in his glittering dark gaze. ‘Which is more than can be said for you. We are in a public place and you are not supposed to be part of the entertainment. If you want to dance then you dance with me.’
She glared at him and tried to pull away. ‘You were busy.’
‘Then you should have waited.’
‘For what? For you to decide you’d had enough of that woman?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘That woman happens to be the owner of this club. She is the reason we came here tonight. She needed my advice.’
‘Don’t treat me as if I’m stupid,’ Alesia advised hotly, stabbing a finger into his broad chest. ‘She was all over you like wrapping paper. And if you’re going to seduce other women in public then I’ll dance with who I like.’
Sebastien’s hand curled over hers. Every inch of her body was locked against his and the feel of his hard, muscular frame made her head spin with longing.
Oh, help—
‘Flirt again,’ he warned, his tone lethally soft, ‘and you’ll discover exactly what it’s like to be married to a Greek man.’
Heart thumping, knees shaking, Alesia stared at him helplessly and gave a tiny moan of self-disgust. How could she find this man so attractive? Trying to halt the insidious warmth that was spreading through her body, she made an attempt to pull away but he simply tightened his grip. Reminding herself that he’d just spent the best part of the evening stuck to another woman, Alesia gritted her teeth. ‘I already know what it’s like to be married to a Greek man, Sebastien. It’s lonely and frustrating. You marry me, then you vanish for two weeks without telling me where you’re going and then you take me out for an evening and proceed to flirt with someone else. I hate you.’
And what she hated most was the fact that she cared.
Colour streaked his magnificent cheekbones. ‘I was not “flirting”.’
‘You were,’ Alesia informed him unsteadily. ‘Your eyes were all over her and she couldn’t stop touching you and you forgot I was even there. Well, I refuse to be ignored! You chose to bring me here and then you were rude. And, what’s more, everyone was watching.’ Suddenly she felt horribly dizzy and clutched at him for support. ‘And now I feel a bit sick.’
The breath hissed through his teeth and he muttered under his breath. ‘Have you been drinking?’
She frowned, wondering why her head was swimming. ‘I never drink.’
His mouth tightened. ‘You downed most of your drink in one mouthful.’
‘I was thirsty.’
‘Then you should have drunk water,’ he suggested helpfully, holding her firmly when her legs would have given way. ‘For the record, alcohol is not the best thirst quencher.’
She leaned her forehead against his chest and wished the room would stop spinning. ‘All I’ve drunk is the lemonade you gave me. I’ve probably just been twirled around too many times. That man was a very good dancer.’
‘The drink was vodka with a dash of lemonade,’ he said grimly, ‘and I think you’re not safe to be left for five minutes unattended. You’re like a child at its first party.’
‘And you’re horrible,’ she muttered, lifting her face to his, struggling to focus as she tried to remember exactly what it was that she hated about him. ‘You do all those things to me in bed and then you just walk out and never say anything nice. Not one single thing. I just don’t understand why women think you’re so amazing. You don’t make sense and I can’t keep up with you. And I don’t think I can pretend to be the person you think I am any more. It’s just exhausting.’
Sebastien stilled, every muscle in his powerful body suddenly tense as he focused all his attention on her. ‘Run that past me again?’
There was something in his tone that rang alarm bells but her head was too fuzzy to work it all out. ‘You never say anything nice to me when we’re in bed—’
‘Not that bit—the other bit.’ Thick dark lashes swooped downwards, concealing his expression. ‘The bit about not being able to pretend any more.’
‘Well, I’m not this stupid, brainless heiress and frankly it’s a struggle to pretend that I am,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve never worn a designer dress in my life, I’ve never had time to party and you think I’m some sort of mammoth slut and yet I’ve never even—’ She broke off and he raised a dark eyebrow in question.
‘Yes?’ he prompted her helpfully, his dark gaze still fixed on her face. ‘Never even—?’
The loosening effects of the drink were fading and she was suddenly swamped by a horrid, horrid feeling that she’d just said totally the wrong thin
g but she couldn’t exactly work out what. Suddenly all she wanted to do was sleep.
‘Well, I’m not a slut,’ she repeated vaguely, ‘although I like the clothes they wear. Except the shoes hurt.’
Her head thudded back against his chest and she heard him swear softly and then felt him scoop her into his arms.
She wanted to tell him that he had to get out of the habit of carrying her everywhere but it felt so nice being back in his arms that she just gave a sigh and nestled her head into his shoulder.
‘You smell so good,’ she muttered dreamily, ‘but I’m absolutely not getting back into bed with you until you learn to say something nice. It makes me feel horrid.’
He didn’t answer but she saw his jaw tighten and felt him lengthen his stride.
Cool air brushed her bare legs as he emerged from the nightclub and seconds later he deposited her on the back seat of the limo before leaning forward and hitting a button. He delivered a set of instructions to his driver in terse, clipped Greek and then sank back against the seat with a grim expression on his handsome face.
Alesia curled up on the seat like a baby and struggled not to be sick. ‘I’m never dancing again,’ she groaned, closing her eyes and then opening them again quickly as the dizziness intensified. ‘The whole world is still spinning.’
‘That’s the alcohol, not the dancing,’ he informed her, shooting her a glance of naked exasperation, ‘and I can’t believe you’ve reached the age of twenty-two without knowing how it feels to get drunk.’
‘I’ve reached the age of twenty-two without knowing how a lot of things feel,’ she confessed sleepily, her words slurring as her head dropped back against the leather seat. ‘These last few weeks have been one long new experience for me. Some of them good, some of them not so good. The worst by far was when you—’
‘—didn’t say anything nice to you in bed,’ he finished for her, inhaling deeply like a man at the extreme limits of his patience. ‘You’ve already told me that several times. I get the message.’
Alesia shifted her head slightly so that she could focus on him. ‘Actually, I was going to say when you flirted with another woman in front of me,’ she murmured, studying the harsh lines of his bronzed face and deciding that he really was shockingly handsome. ‘As new experiences go, that really was the pits. But I love the clothes and the shoes. And dancing was amazing. I want you to take me again. Maybe tomorrow.’
He studied her through narrowed dark eyes, his gaze suddenly disturbingly intent. ‘Tomorrow,’ he warned in a soft voice, ‘I have other plans for you.’
Alesia groaned. At the moment she just wanted to be left to sleep. ‘Well, I expect you will have done one of your vanishing acts again by the morning,’ she muttered hopefully as her eyes drifted shut again.
‘No chance,’ Sebastien murmured, leaning across to catch her before she sprawled on to the seat. ‘I’m going to start getting to the bottom of the person you really are, agape mou. Tomorrow, you and I are going to start really getting to know each other.’
Alesia woke with a pounding headache.
‘Drink this.’ The deep, masculine drawl came from right beside her and she groaned and kept her eyes firmly closed.
‘I can’t drink anything—’
‘It will help.’ He slid an arm under her shoulders, lifted her as if she weighed nothing and put the glass to her lips.
Alesia took a tentative sip and wrinkled her nose. ‘It tastes disgusting.’
‘Then maybe your education regarding the effects of alcohol is truly complete,’ he said drily. ‘Trust me, it will help.’
She sipped from the glass, froze for a moment while her churning stomach protested and then relaxed. ‘You’re right. I feel better.’
‘Good. Because you have less than an hour to get ready.’ He straightened and she realized that he was already showered and dressed.
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Not more nightclubs.’
‘It’s lunchtime,’ he informed her helpfully, gesturing to-wards the window with a sweep of his bronzed hand, ‘so no, not more nightclubs. They don’t generally open until midnight but you wouldn’t know that, would you, given that you’d never been to one before?’
There was something in his silky tone that smelt of danger and she looked at him anxiously. Much of the previous night was a blur. Had she really told him that? ‘I—er—’ She cleared her throat awkwardly as she tried to work out how to rescue herself from the current situation. ‘I didn’t exactly say I hadn’t been in a nightclub.’
‘Yes, you did. Along with a great number of other fascinating revelations which I can’t wait to explore in greater detail.’ Sebastien glanced at his watch and then strode towards the door. ‘I have some important calls to make before we leave, so take advantage of the time to have a shower but don’t fall asleep again. My pilot will pick us up in less than an hour.’
The sickness returned. ‘Your pilot?’
‘That’s right.’ He opened the door and glanced back at her. ‘We’re going on our honeymoon. Better late than never, as the saying goes.’
‘Honeymoon?’ She gaped at him. ‘But we weren’t going to have a honeymoon. You said you didn’t want to spend that much time with me.’
‘That was because I thought one night with you would be enough. I was wrong. I’ve tried cold water and I’ve tried avoiding you,’ he told her frankly. ‘Nothing works. So we’ll try a different approach.’
Her mouth fell open. ‘You tried avoiding me? That’s why you vanished for two weeks? You were avoiding me?’
‘Yes, but it didn’t work. I’ve accepted the way things are. We’re married. It’s perfectly acceptable for us to spend time together and I need to get you out of my system if I’m ever to stand a chance of concentrating again.’
She stared at him, feeling slightly faint. ‘And how do you propose to do that?’
‘By having endless, uninterrupted sex, agape mou.’ He flashed her a smile. ‘In less than an hour it will be just you and I and a very private island. You won’t even have to dress in underwear—so don’t bother to pack.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY were flying over the sea again.
Was Greece nothing but ocean?
Alesia closed her eyes and tried to visualize land. Tried to control the almost frantic panic that erupted inside her.
‘You can open your eyes,’ Sebastien said, his voice tinged with amusement as he lounged in the seat next to her. ‘We land in less than five minutes and you’re missing the best view in Greece.’
Alesia kept her eyes shut. She wasn’t interested in the view. She was thinking about the water. Fathoms and fathoms of ocean laid out beneath her just waiting to claim the unwary—
‘Theos mou, you are white as a sheet.’ His voice was suddenly sharp with concern. ‘Is this still a consequence of last night?’
She couldn’t speak, fighting her own private battle against the terror that threatened to engulf her.
There was a moment’s silence and then strong fingers wrapped themselves around her cold hand. ‘I remember now that you were the same colour the first time I met you. I didn’t know you were so afraid of flying,’ he said quietly. ‘Forgive me. Next time we use the boat. It makes the journey a little longer but at least it will be more comfortable for you.’
At that her eyes flew open in shock. The fact that he seemed to care whether or not she liked the helicopter surprised her.
Why would he care?
Perhaps he was just afraid that she might be ill. Didn’t men hate it when women were ill? Should she confess that it was the water, not the flying?
That a boat would be even worse.
‘There’s no need to look at me like that,’ he drawled softly. ‘Everyone has a weakness. It’s almost a relief to know that you have something other than just greed. You can relax now. We’ve landed. Welcome to my private hideaway.’
Remembering how close the helicopter pad was to the sea from their first meet
ing, Alesia was tempted to shut her eyes again but she forced them to stay open, knowing that she somehow had to get herself to the villa.
The sea wasn’t going to leap up and grab her, she reminded herself firmly as she descended quickly and stood on the Tarmac. This fear of hers was totally irrational and it was time she tried to conquer it.
‘You are still very pale.’ Sebastien surveyed her with frowning contemplation and then spoke several words in Greek to his pilot, who melted into the background. ‘You should lie down before dinner. Or perhaps you would prefer a swim?’
Should she confess that she never swam?
Should she tell him—?
She licked dry lips, her heart suddenly racing with fear. ‘Maybe later.’
‘After a few days in Athens most people can’t wait to dive into the ocean,’ he said, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he glanced in her direction. ‘But there’s plenty of time. I have no plans to rush back to the city.’
Alesia hid her dismay.
How long exactly was he planning on staying?
It would be harder for her to phone her mother from here and if she didn’t receive a call, she’d worry.
Sebastien frowned. ‘You are unbelievably tense and the whole point of this trip is for you to unwind. There is nothing to do here but relax. You must still be tired after last night.’
He sounded as if he cared that she was tired and she stared at him in confusion. Why was he being nice to her all of a sudden?
Alesia gave a stiff smile. ‘I am tired, you’re right.’
‘Have a lie down before dinner—’
They walked into the villa and Alesia’s eyes widened as she glanced around her. When they’d visited the island for that first meeting, she hadn’t actually set foot inside the house itself.
The living area was huge and light, decorated in blues and whites with acres of cool creamy marble. Exotic plants nestled in the corner of the room and on the walls hung several huge, brightly coloured canvases. ‘It’s beautiful—’