Tycoon's Ring of Convenience

by Julia James

  ‘It’s the most glorious thing I’ve seen in my life!’ She sighed, still breathless with awe.

  ‘Do you want the telescope set up?’ he asked her, but she shook her head.

  ‘No, for tonight this is enough—I can’t take it all in as it is.’ She turned to face him. ‘Oh, Nikos, this is the most wonderful sight!’

  ‘It is indeed,’ he said. ‘And we can see them better still if we lie down...’

  He gestured to something that had not at first been visible to Diana, but now, with her darkness-adjusted eyes, she saw that—incongruous as it might appear—there was what seemed to be a king-sized divan in the centre of the rooftop, presumably set there for the very purpose of lying down to see the stars. Already her neck was aching with tilting her head upwards, and her feet in their high heels were scarcely prepared for long standing.

  Gratefully she let Nikos guide her, help her to ease down, to take off her shoes—not needed now—and then lie back on the myriad cushions piled on the silk-covered divan.

  ‘Oh, that’s better,’ she said gratefully, able now to gaze straight up at the night sky.

  She felt the divan dip slightly as Nikos’s heavy form came down on the other side. With half her mind she felt a flicker go through her—maybe she and Nikos lying virtually side by side like this, all alone under the desert night sky, was not the wisest thing. Then she brushed it aside. This was an experience to be made the very most of. They were here to star-gaze—nothing else.

  For a while they simply lay quietly, gazing upwards. Speech seemed not just superfluous, but intrusive. The cushion beneath Diana’s head was soft, but because of her elaborate coiffure it was not entirely comfortable. She shifted position slightly, and then heard Nikos speak beside her in the dark.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s my hair,’ she said. ‘This style is designed to be vertical, not horizontal.’ She propped herself up, reaching with her other hand behind her head, patting it to see where the pins were.

  ‘Let me help,’ said Nikos.

  He levered himself to a sitting position and turned her shoulders slightly, to give him greater access to the back of her head. For reasons she did not want to explore, Diana let him. It was easier for him to do it than for her.

  But there was more about this than ease of access. She dipped her head slightly. And as his fingers worked gently over the intricate plaits and coils, seeking pins and grips, she felt a great sensuous languor creep over her. His touch was delicate, feathering through her hair, and as each pin was removed she felt its loosening go through her. Felt a slow surge of blood start to pulse through her.

  ‘Oh, that feels so good...’ She sighed as coil after coil was released, easing the tension on her skull. She felt her locks cascading loose to her shoulders, nothing restraining them at all but the beaded bandeau threaded through them.

  ‘Does it?’ said Nikos softly.

  Her hair was loose now, all the pins and grips discarded—presumably, she thought absently, on the carpet surrounding the divan. But the thought was vague, inchoate. Irrelevant in comparison with that oh-so-sinuous languor that was stealing over her.

  Nikos’s fingers were still threading through her hair, softly smoothing her locks, gently kneading her scalp, just above her nape. Instinctively she dipped her head further, giving a little sigh of pleasure. She heard his low laugh again, felt his sensuously working fingertips move to the tops of her ears. Then, with another silvered quickening of her pulse, she felt his thumb idly tease at a lobe. A million quivers of sensation went through her. It felt so good...

  There was a haze inside her, around her. Above, the stars were blazing in their glory, but she felt her eyelids dip, made a little sound in her throat.

  As she did so, she felt Nikos’s hand stroke down her throat, its slender column caressed by his long, sensitive fingers. She felt her face being turned towards him, felt her eyelids fluttering open—to see him looking down at her.

  And in his eyes, in the starlight, was what she could not deny.

  Did not want to deny.

  She said his name. Just his name. Breathed it like a sigh.

  Who was there to hear it but him and the empty desert? The desert and the night. The night and the stars. The stars and Nikos.

  Nikos—who, alone of all the men in all the world, seemed to possess what no man had ever possessed before.

  The power to enthral her. Entice her. Tempt her. Tempt her to do what she was doing now—what she must do, it seemed, here, now, on this soft silken divan under the burning desert stars, where nothing else existed but themselves and the night and their desire. His for her, hers for him.

  I want him so much... So much...

  She did not know why—did not care—only knew that her hand was lifting to feather at his temple, to graze the sable hair and drift down the planed cheek to edge along the roughened outline of his jaw.

  Her eyes were still half closed, her body still filled with that incredible heaviness. And as she touched him she made that little sound in her throat again, felt as if in a dream that her breasts were tightening, quickening under the second skin that was her precious, priceless gown. The gown given to her by a princess—a princess who’d asked for this desert love-nest to be theirs. For now. For tonight.

  It wasn’t what their marriage was about—she knew that—but she couldn’t think of it now. Could only think and feel what was happening to her here, beneath the desert night burning with myriad stars.

  Yearning filled her, and an instinct so powerful she could not resist it. She had no wish to resist it—not here, not now, not under these burning desert stars, not under the heavy-lidded gaze of the man whose mouth was now lowering slowly, infinitely slowly, to meet hers.

  His kiss was like silken velvet—infinitely soft, infinitely sensuous. Infinitely arousing. That little sound came from her again, deep in her throat. She felt her neck arch, her loosened wanton hair sliding like satin, felt the hot pulse at her throat strengthen. She felt her hand slip around the nape of his neck, draw him down to her as she rested slowly backwards, moving down upon the waiting cushions, her hair now spilling out across them.

  He came down with her, his kiss starting to deepen. She felt her breasts cresting, straining against the bodice of her gown, and still he kissed her as if he would never release her. Desire was sweeping up inside her. A desire whose power she had never known, had only glimpsed in brief glances, crushed thoughts, whenever she’d looked at the man she had married—who was not hers to glance at like that, not hers to think about, not hers to desire...

  Except for this night.

  She could have him for this night only! Here, where the rest of the world had ceased to exist, seemed as if it might never exist again, might never have existed at all. For only the stars were burning in their own eternity. An eternity she could share for this one night only...

  Nikos—the only man to arouse her, awaken her. The only man to whom she was a woman—a woman who could feel what other women felt.

  Never... Never have I felt this desire before! Never!

  But now she did—now she knew its power, its force and strength. It was arousing and inspiring her, sweeping her along with its tide so that she could not resist, taking her to a new land—a land she had thought was not for her, had never found before.

  But she had found now...with him...with Nikos.

  The land of sweet desire.

  Desire that was mounting in her now, quickening in her blood, in her heating body, in her shallow, hectic breath. She felt her fingers mould his nape, spear into his hair, felt her body turn towards him like a magnet.

  Bliss was seeping up inside her at the drowning sweetness of feeling his lips grazing hers—lips that were slowly, remorselessly, teasing from her a deeper response now, a response that began a restlessness inside her, a sense of going over the edge, giving up all control. Giving it up to the feelings filling her body, her mind, her very being.

  Of their own vol
ition, in their own mounting need, her lips parted and she gave that low moan in her throat again—of relief, of pleasure, of wonder and bliss as she tasted to the full all that Nikos was offering, all that he was doing, giving to her, with a touch so skilled, so arousing, that she was blind with it.

  He was murmuring her name even as he kissed her, tasted her, his hand slipping down, sliding slowly and sensually over the bodice of the dress to mould the contours of her body. Her spine arched into his caress. She was aching for his hand to close over the straining mound of her breast, and when it did, his palm grazing the straining crests, she felt another surge of unbearable desire. And yet another. And another. Each one stronger, more urgent than the last.

  She wanted this with all her being. Madness though it was. She didn’t care—could not care—could only go on yielding endlessly, urgently, to the hunger that was growing in her with every passing moment, every yearning press of her body into his.

  And then suddenly, abruptly, his hand was lifted from her—and his mouth. With a muffled cry of loss she tried to reach for him again, her eyes blind to all but the overpowering need for him that had brought her to this point. But he resisted her reach and instead, with a gasp of shock, he flipped her over so her face was pressed into the pillows.

  She tried to raise herself.

  ‘Lie still.’

  There was a growl in his voice—a growl that melted her bones. For she knew at a level so deep she did not understand it that this was a command that was for her, not him. And a moment later she realised why.

  His hands were at the back of her dress and his fingers were working assiduously, steadily, at slipping free the myriad tiny hooks that fastened the exquisite gown. It seemed to take for ever, and she felt herself grow restless, filled with a sense of frustration that it was taking so long for him to ease the delicate fabric from her skin, exposing, hook by hook, the long line of her spine. She felt her fingers clutch at the silk of her pillow, felt a heat building in her—a heat she could not cool, did not want to cool.

  She wanted only to feel as she did when finally the fabric fell aside, and then his long velvet fingertips were easing beneath, splaying out with the most leisurely arousing touch, so that her fingers clenched more tightly, the restlessness in her mounting, wanting more of him, more of his feathered touch, more of the way his mouth was now lowering to her spine, grazing each sculpted contour as swirls of pleasure began to ripple through her.

  As his lips grazed down her spine, teasing those swirls of exquisite sensation from her, she felt his hands spread out, easing the gown completely from her until it was all but falling off. Gently, but with a strength that made it effortless, he lifted her from the gown so that it lay like a discarded thing beside her. Gently he lowered her back upon the silken divan, turning her towards him.

  She was naked—completely naked. For an endless moment he gazed down at her. Incapable of more. Incapable of anything except letting his eyes feast on the incredible beauty of her naked body. She was everything he’d known she would be—everything and more. Oh, so much more!

  Her slender frame, the narrow waist, the perfect contours, the sweet lushness of her breasts, bared now for him alone. The swell of her hips, the deep vee below, her long legs, her loosening thighs...

  Then with a sudden movement he sat up, seizing the priceless gown. She did not even remark when he dropped it to the floor—her eyes were only for him. Urgently he hauled his own clothing from him—so much more swiftly than he’d just freed her from the gown that had done its job so well—had made her aware of her own beauty, of how precious it was to her, to him, and was now no longer necessary.

  Nothing was needed now. Now they had everything they wanted. They had the silken couch, the night sky, the warmth of the desert, the silence and the darkness, the stars their only witness.

  They had each other.

  It was all that he wanted now. All he had wanted from the first moment he had set eyes on her. This exquisitely beautiful woman, so different from any he had known, offering him so much...

  Offering him now the greatest gift of all—the gift that he had waited so many months to claim.

  Herself.

  She was his at last. The ice maiden was gone for ever. His self-control, his self-denial was finally needed no longer and she was melting in his arms. Melting and then catching fire at his touch, his kiss, his absolute caress.

  With a sense of absolute liberty he lowered himself down beside her. Smoothed her golden hair from her forehead. Gazed down at her with a look that told her everything she needed to know, that sent the blood flushing through her, hot and urgent.

  ‘And now,’ said Nikos as he started to lower his mouth, his voice rich with anticipation, satisfaction, ‘we can begin our wedding night.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE SUN WAS RISING, swelling over the rim of the easternmost dune, bleaching the sky, quenching the stars one by one by one. Rose-gold lit up the horizon, a long, rich line of colour as the sky above turned to azure blue.

  In Nikos’s arms, Diana slept—as he slept in hers. Her head and torso rested on his chest, that strong, muscle-sculpted wall that could take her weight as if she were feathers drifting from a passing eagle. And around her waist his arm was clamped, heavy upon her, but it was a weight she’d gloried in, holding her to him even as sleep had swept over them in the long, late reaches of the night.

  A wedding night that had burned hot as the distant stars whose light had illuminated their bodies—bodies moving in passion, in desire, in endless, boundless need and satiation. Her voice had cried out time after time, each note higher with an ecstasy that had ripped her mind from her body then melded them back, fusing them with the same heat that had fused her body to his. Fusing them as if they were one body, one flesh. They had clasped each other, their tangled limbs impossible to separate.

  The sun crept higher now, spilling into the day. It shafted the world with brilliant radiance. Washing up over their naked bodies, covered only by the silken cloths with which the divan was strewn.

  Diana stirred. There was warmth moving along her legs now, and she wondered why, her eyes flickering feebly open, blinking at the day. The sun had gained its final clearance of the dunes and now blazed out over the rooftop, instantly heating them. She felt Nikos stir too, his limbs tensing as he moved upwards out of deep sleep.

  The arm around her tightened automatically. But he did not wake.

  Breathless, Diana eased herself from him. Her body was stiff, unyielding, but move she must. Carefully, very carefully, she stood up. Every muscle in her body ached. She cast her gaze about. She could not stand here naked, exposed on the rooftop. She dipped down, seizing up her cashmere shawl and hurriedly swathing it around herself as consciousness increasingly came back to her.

  With a smothered cry she pressed the tips of her fingers against her mouth.

  What have I done? Oh, what have I done?

  But she knew what she had done. The evidence was there, spread out beneath her gaze—a gaze that could not help but instantly go to the powerful male glory of Nikos’s naked his body. An amazed delight leapt in her. Flaring through every cell in her body. Firing every synapse in her dazed brain.

  I never knew... I just never knew how it could be!

  But she knew now. Knew that Nikos had taken her to a place she had never understood, never realised existed. She felt dazed with the knowledge. Stunned by it.

  But it was not knowledge that she could possess freely. She felt her stomach plummet. Dear God, what she had done she should never have allowed herself to do. How could she?

  This was not what she had married Nikos for.

  It was not what he’d married her for.

  That was the blunt truth of it. The truth that crushed her as she hurried barefoot back down to the interior rooms, rushing into the bathroom. Maybe water would sluice away the madness of what she’d done.

  But when she finally emerged from her shower, wrapped in a huge towel,
it was to find Nikos waiting for her. He didn’t speak—not a word. He was wearing a cotton dressing gown now, and he simply strode up to her. Wrapped her to him.

  His bear hug was all-enveloping. Impossible to draw back from.

  But I don’t want to! I don’t want to pull away from him.

  The cry came from deep within, from a place she had not known existed. Not until last night.

  It seemed an age before he let her go, but when he did he simply said, his eyes alight, his smile wide, ‘Breakfast awaits.’

  He scooped up a silken robe that was lying draped across the unused bed. It was in sea-green, vivid and vibrant, and he threw it around her and slipped the towel from her.

  ‘You must keep covered,’ he growled, and there was an expression in his eyes that she did not need a dictionary to describe. ‘Or we’ll never get to breakfast.’

  His arm around her shoulder, he led her out. She went with him, as meekly as a lamb. For it was the only thing in the world she wanted to do.

  Out on the terrace the silent army of servants had set a lavish breakfast table, shaded by an awning, and they took their places. Beyond the terrace and beyond the outdoor pool glittering in the morning sun, the palm trees guarding it, the desert stretched to infinity. All the world was here, in this one place.

  In this one man.

  Nikos raised his glass of orange juice to her, his smile wide and warm. His eyes warmer still.

  ‘To us, Diana,’ he said.

  To us? she echoed silently. There was no ‘us’—there was only an empty shell of a marriage, designed to make use of each other, with no future in it. None.

  But, as she raised her own glass defiance and a reckless daring surged up in her. Beyond this desert hideaway there could be no ‘us’ for her and Nikos.

  But while we are here there can.

  And for that... Oh, for that she would seize it all.

  * * *

  ‘All strapped in?’ Nikos said, checking her seat belt. He nodded at their driver. ‘OK, let’s go.’

  With a roaring gunning of the engine the driver grinned and accelerated the four-by-four almost vertically up the perilous slope of the dune.