‘So English,’ he murmured. ‘So very, very English.’ He peeled the nightgown over her head and threw it aside, staring down at her, his eyes blazing as he drank in her nakedness. She shut her eyes hurriedly; afraid to look into his eyes for fear of what she might read there.
‘Open them,’ he commanded again. ‘There is no need for shyness.’ His hand slipped to his belt, which he unbuckled with unhurried ease, so that he somehow managed to instil infinite grace into the act of stripping off the rest of his clothes, until he was as naked as she and he climbed into the bed and pulled the sheet over both of them.
For a moment he lay above her, his desire pressing hard and full against the softness of her belly, and she breathed a sigh of delectable antici- pation, her mouth curving into a soft smile of pleasure. His eyes narrowed momentarily with some unknown question as he stared down at her, and Jade knew the briefest surge of uneasiness, but it was dispelled as his arms went about her, their bodies moulding even closer and their lips fusing in a heady union which threatened to stop her heart.
CHAPTER TEN
IT WAS the most perfect night of her life, and one which Jade would remember for the rest of her life, no matter what happened between them afterwards.
Her instincts had been right; it had not been ’good sex’—it had been much, much more than that. Constantine had made love to her over and over again, she had lost count of the times she cried out her pleasure into the silence of the night, but when she awoke in the morning he was gone.
As if he’d never been there; not one scrap of clothing remaining to show that he’d spent the night in her arms. Nothing to show, but plenty to feel. And not just the aching deep inside her, or the tiny bruises of teeth-marks on her swollen breasts—the discovery that he was no longer there beside her produced both anger and pain. She recognised bit- terly that on the two occasions he’d made love to her he’d cast her off afterwards with a ruthlessness which left her feeling nothing short of cheap.
And why not? What did she expect? Nothing had changed. He still believed that she had deliberately deceived him, had tried to seduce him into getting a story. He still believed she had kissed and told by giving her story to the Daily View.
What she didn’t understand was why he had been so reluctant to make love to her last night, after boasting to her that he intended to talk his way into her bed.
And why she had been so reluctant to let him go back to his own room, after everything she’d said. Was it just that the man was capable of throwing all her senses into overdrive, or did it go deeper than that? Was she still, as she suspected—still in love with him?
Damn Constantine Sioulas, thought Jade, as she pulled on a bathrobe and padded through into the shower.
Half an hour later, she had just finished brushing her hair when there was a knock at the door. It was Stavros.
He gave her what appeared to be a genuine smile, which she returned, hoping against hope that she didn’t resemble a woman who’d just spent the night being ravished by his brute of a brother. How many of those had Stavros seen over the years? she won- dered. I don’t want to be just like all the others, she thought, with a pang of regret for her stupid, impetuous behaviour—pleading with him to stay the night with her while knowing that there could only be one outcome if he did. And didn’t men— particularly proud and possessive Greek men like Constantine—only respect women who fought them off? She sighed. What a mess everything was.
‘Hello, Stavros.’ She was not going to ask.
Was she?
‘Er—do you happen to know where Constantine went?’
Shaking his head, Stavros gave a broad grin and a wink as if to say that her question as to his brother’s whereabouts was entirely predictable. ‘He didn’t tell me—but he sure as hell looked mad when I saw him first thing.’
Her heart sank.
He narrowed his eyes—eyes like splinters of jet, so like Constantine’s own, and yet lacking some- thing of their enigmatic brilliance. ‘Did you two have a fight or something?’ he mused.
Not unless the dictionary version of fighting had undergone a radical change overnight. ‘Urn—not exactly.’
Stavros shook his head. ‘What is it that you do to him, Jade? He’s been like a crazy man since he met you, you know?’
‘Yes,’ answered Jade drily. Crazy was right. Sane men did not generally blackmail women they con- sidered had wronged them into marrying them as some primitive form of revenge!
Stavros gave her a quick look. ‘I know he’s not always easy,’ he began.
Jade almost laughed. ‘You’re certainly given to understatement!’
Stavros shook his head. ‘He hasn’t always had it easy himself, you know. People think that the money is an answer to everything, but it isn’t.’
She knew that. She remembered his fear that she’d been kidnapped, his apparent isolation as he’d sat fatigued in his chair yesterday evening. But that wasn’t really relevant to their situation.
But Stavros seemed to be possessed of a great need to present Constantine in a more favourable light. ‘You know that our mother died?’
‘Yes, he told me.’ Her voice softened. ‘You were very young?’
‘She died giving birth to me,’ said Stavros, and her heart went out to him as she heard the empti- ness and confusion in his voice. ‘I don’t think my father ever got over it, really—even when he re- married—no, especially when he remarried. So Tino became like father and mother to me. He was only twelve.’ He hesitated, the hero-worship there for her to hear as plain as day itself. ‘Don’t make the mistake, will you, Jade, of thinking that the harsh exterior you see is all there is?’
Jade said nothing, just stared at Stavros sadly. If only he knew. He was romantically, foolishly labouring under the misapprehension that she and Constantine were marrying for love. She might be in love, she realised with a sinking resignation but he certainly wasn’t.
Stavros cut into her thoughts. ‘What time do you want to leave?’
‘Leave?’ she echoed in confusion.
‘Sure. He’s left the car and the driver at your disposal.’
‘What for?’ Jade blinked, then remembered how he’d flipped because she’d trailed around London on her own yesterday, on the Tube. Perhaps he meant that she should play the tourist again.
And then another thought occurred to her, a thought which, surprisingly, she found infinitely more disturbing. What if Constantine had come to his senses after their night spent together—wouldn’t that explain his hurried departure? Perhaps now that he’d had a night of passion with her he had slaked the lust he felt for her, and had decided to call the whole thing off. And perhaps the car was there to take her home to her flat, and out of his life forever.
Stavros cleared his throat. ‘He said you should go and choose your wedding-gown. It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?’
Bang went her theory, and, infuriatingly, her heart accelerated! ‘Oh, did he?’
‘Mmm. You don’t sound overjoyed.’ Stavros eyed her speculatively. ‘What’s the matter? He’s a good catch, my brother. Don’t you know how many women have wanted to marry him?’
‘I can imagine,’ answered Jade acidly, then, seeing Stavros’s almost hurt look of bemusement, she relented—it wasn’t his fault that his brother was such a ruthless swine, after all!
Stavros frowned. ‘You know that he hasn’t in- vited our stepmother or her daughter?’ He paused, and a fleeting narrow-eyed look crossed his face, making him look uncannily like his big brother.
Jade nodded. ‘He told me.’
‘Do you know why?’
Yes, she knew. Because they were just going through the motions of a wedding, that’s all—so why make it a farce by inviting all his relatives?
Stavros frowned. ‘Marina—that’s our step- mother—she won’t particularly care one way or the other, but Eleni, that’s her daughter—she’s going to go absolutely crazy. She thinks the world of Tino.’ He stared at Jade. ‘Can’t you make h
im invite her?’
‘I don’t think I can, Stavros.’ She didn’t imagine that it was possible to make Constantine do any- thing which he didn’t want to.
Yet it seemed that he still wanted the wedding to go ahead, even if it was going to be a small and rather hushed-up affair, and if that was the case then she needed a dress to wear. A woman had her pride, after all!
So Jade spent the day being ferried round dif- ferent shops in the low, sleek car—watching people peer into the interior whenever it stopped at traffic lights, obviously hoping to see someone famous. Sorry to disappoint you, she thought wryly, as she leant back against the soft, luxurious leather. She really could get used to this kind of life, she de- cided regretfully, remembering her own rainswept waits at bus-stops.
In the end she bought a cream linen dress with a matching hat, which looked stunning without breaking the bank, since she determinedly refused every one of Constantine’s charge cards which Stavros tried to press into her hand.
‘Take them,’ he insisted.
‘I don’t want them.’
Stavros shook his head mournfully. ‘He’ll be mad.’
Good! ‘That’s not my problem,’ she shrugged.
‘Maybe that’s what he likes about you—that you make him so mad!’
If only he knew, mused Jade as she walked back through the revolving doors of the Granchester, purchases in hand.
Constantine was in their suite, and to Jade’s quickly stifled dismay she noted that his face was unwelcoming and tense as she appeared in the doorway. She didn’t know what she had expected after she had given herself to him so passionately last night, but it was certainly not this cold and intimidating face he presented. He gave her a brief, terse nod, but that was it. No smile, no kiss, no embrace, nothing to let on how close she thought they’d been during the night. But perhaps that closeness had all been in her naive and fevered im- agination. She was relatively innocent; he was not. The kind of rapturous response which she’d dem- onstrated as he’d made such superb love to her was probably par for the course where he was con- cerned. How many women had sobbed out their pleasure in his arms and had their tears wiped away with his supposedly tender kisses? she wondered painfully.
‘I have the licence,’ he announced dispassion- ately. ‘We marry tomorrow.’
Jade vowed to match his icy politeness. ‘The sooner it’s done, the sooner this farce of a mar- riage can be finished.’
A fleeting look of anger distorted his features, making his eyes as black as ink. ‘The days, perhaps. But not the nights,’ he taunted softly. ‘Do you not want those to go on forever? Or did my ears de- ceive me last night when you begged me not to stop?’
Jade’s cheeks flushed hotly. What a louse he was, to bring that up in broad daylight. She met his gaze full on. ‘I was overwrought last night, not surprisingly. But it’s a mistake which I shan’t make again,’ she vowed fervently. Even if it killed her.
‘No?’ A mocking smile twisted his mouth. ’Forgive me if I find that somehow hard to believe, Jade. You’re hungry for me all the time. Even now, while you profess to hate me so much.’ And his eyes dipped insultingly to her breasts, which tingled and throbbed under his blatantly sexual scrutiny, and she turned away from him, horrified by the betraying response of her body.
‘So do I take it you won’t be joining me for dinner tonight?’ he asked silkily.
‘Correct!’ she rapped out.
‘Beauty sleep before we take our vows? I guess you need it.’
The implication was brutally clear—she certainly hadn’t got very much sleep last night. Oh, what had possessed her? Why did the night play such cruel, deceptive tricks? Last night he had seemed like security personified, solid as a rock in the dark loneliness of her nightmare, comforting her and loving her with his body. While now he was a cold- faced stranger who eyed her with nothing but lust, making mockery of the binding intimacy she had imagined they’d shared. ‘I’m going to my room,’ she said icily, and turned her back on him, but halted at the curt command of his next words.
‘The wedding takes place at ten. We leave here at a quarter to the hour.’
Jade hesitated, wondering just what agenda he was proposing for their wedding-night. ‘And after- wards?’ she asked, as coolly as she could.
‘Afterwards we travel to Piros.’
The blistering heat hit Jade like a sledgehammer, and she was so exhausted that she allowed Constantine’s hand to support her back. His black eyes remained impenetrable and his mouth was a tense, thin line as he helped her out of the small rowing boat which had brought them from his luxury yacht, now moored just off the island of Piros. Seeing the island where they’d been so happy sent shock-waves of regret through her, but she de- terminedly kept her face poker-straight as she stared at the contrast of the deep lapis lazuli of the sea lapping against the white sand.
They had spent the last twelve hours travelling, flying from Heathrow to Athens after the wedding, then being driven to Piraeus Harbour to board the yacht.
‘Tired?’ he asked softly, his eyes narrowed as he watched her gaze flicker round to where people sat drinking and eating in the tiny quayside tavernas. Hard to believe that a few short weeks ago the two of them had roamed the island, hand-in-hand and carefree.
Jade nodded, swallowing to try to dispel the stupid lump in her throat. The journey had been long, and tiring, but it was the emotional strain of her whole wedding-day which had left her feeling as weak as a kitten.
However much of a farce the ceremony might have been, she had still found it unbearably painful to go through the motions of the simple wedding service. To have to say ‘I will’ to Constantine, and then to have him slip the ring on to her finger, and act like it meant nothing to her, when quite clearly it did. But the worse had been to come. After the registrar had pronounced them husband and wife he had pulled her into his arms and told her that she looked exquisite, before kissing her thoroughly in front of the registrar and a grinning Stavros and Tony so that she was left quite dizzy and breathless.
Because it had all been a front—that much was obvious since for the rest of the journey he had lapsed into a terse and moody silence, punctuated only by curt enquiries as to whether she wanted food, drink, another cushion, to sleep or to read. ’Just let me know if there is anything that you want,’ he had said eventually, in the same hard, cold voice.
She knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted all this to be real. She wanted, not politeness, not even passion. She wanted love.
And now they were on Piros she knew neither for how long, nor for what purpose.
She held her head stiffly, unaccustomed to the heavy style of French plait, still dressed with the fragrant white flowers which Constantine had in- sisted on ordering for their wedding. ‘And how long do you anticipate we’ll be staying?’
He stared out at the dark blue band of the horizon. ‘That depends,’ he answered obscurely.
‘On?’
‘A number of factors, but I do not intend to discuss them here. You are tired, Jade. I will take you to my home.’
My home, she observed. Very territorial.
Before she knew it he was strapping her into the same beaten-up old jalopy as he’d driven her around in when she’d met him. In view of what she now knew of his lifestyle, his choice of car seemed de- cidedly incongruous. ‘Why do you drive this, when in London you have a limousine?’ she asked curiously.
He changed gear with a smoothness which was amazing, considering that the car seemed to be on its last legs. ‘That’s city life,’ he shrugged. ‘The world I move in expects symbols which demon- strate status and wealth. So I play the game. But I’m not turned on by cars.’
‘As long as they get you from A to B?’
He shrugged. ‘You have it in one.’
‘This one might take longer getting from A to B than most!’
He laughed. ‘Sure. But this car’s very special to me.’
The dusty silver-green of the fragr
ant cypresses began to appear and Jade wound the window down to sniff their evocatively warm scent. ‘Why?’ she asked, as she looked at the doorknob which hung on only by a prayer.
He drummed long, olive fingers on the steering- wheel. ‘I won it.’
‘How?’
He gave a wry smile. ‘In a fight, I am ashamed to admit.’
‘Different!’ murmured Jade, but her interest was alive. He didn’t, she realised, give away much of his past. ‘Who did you win it from?’
There was a pause. She thought that either he hadn’t heard her, or that he wasn’t going to reply.
But then he did.
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I like stories. Car journeys are designed for story- telling.’
At this he grinned, which he didn’t do very often. And when he grinned he was thoroughly irresistible.
‘I grew up and was educated in Athens,’ he began. ‘But I used to come to this island every summer—even after my father died. He grew up on an island like this, you see, and he wanted me to know something of the life he’d had. A simple life. But I was the city boy; the rich boy—always the outsider.’ He swerved to avoid a rock, mut- tering something in Greek, and Jade was afraid that he would clam up just when she felt sure that she was about to get some insight into what really made him tick.
‘Don’t stop,’ she said quickly.
He gave her a brief, sideways stare. ‘There was one boy in particular—his name was Kris.’
Kris. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the name rang a bell.
‘Kris always took particular exception to my being here. His dislike grew worse over the years. He fancied himself with the ladies and—’ He made a little shrugging movement with his shoulders as his voice tailed away, and Jade didn’t have to be told what one of the problems must have been. Even if the boy had been an Adonis, he wouldn’t have got a look-in with the ladies with Constantine around.
‘And he was the leader of the other boys,’ he continued. ‘He used to challenge me to fight him and, when that wouldn’t work, to goad me into fighting him.’
Savage Seduction Page 12