She felt his dark gaze skim over her, hovering on the delicate swell of her breasts before sliding lower to her narrow hips and long, slender legs encased in sheer black stockings. The heat in his gaze made her quiver with a mixture of outrage and undeniable awareness. If he dared to make the vile suggestion that she sleep with him in return for sponsoring her, she would be out of the front door before he could blink, having first told him precisely where he could stick his donation.
‘I’m in the fortunate position to be able to donate to many charities,’ he told her. ‘But, tell me, why do you support this particular cause?’
Anna shrugged and tore her gaze from his face. ‘It’s heartbreaking to think of children’s lives blighted by illness. I used to visit Kezia while she was undergoing chemotherapy,’ she added. ‘She was so brave, as all the sick children I’ve met since are. If I can use my—’ she broke off and laughed deprecatingly ‘—celebrity status to raise money for the charity, then I’m prepared to do anything.’
Well, almost anything, she amended silently when he moved closer and lifted his hand to smooth a stray tendril of hair back from her face. It was a curiously intimate gesture and she stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as she inhaled his seductive male scent.
‘So, I’ll make a significant donation to your good cause and in return you’ll run thirteen miles—and…’ His sudden smile took her breath away and she found that she was unable to drag her gaze from the sensual curve of his mouth.
‘And I’ll what?’ she demanded suspiciously. She’d known there had to be a catch.
‘And you’ll agree to have dinner with me,’ he completed blandly, the gleam in his eyes telling her that he could read her mind and was aware of her misgivings. ‘What are you afraid of, Anna? I promise I don’t slurp my soup,’ he assured her gravely.
He was openly teasing her and she felt her cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and, God forbid, disappointment. She should feel relieved that he hadn’t demanded the right to assuage the desire she had glimpsed in his eyes. Instead she felt thoroughly disconcerted. Maybe she’d read the signs wrong. Perhaps she had been so intent on fighting her awareness of him that she had been mistaken in her belief that the attraction was mutual?
He made the most of her hesitation to slide his hand beneath her chin, tilting her face to his so that she had no option but to meet his gaze. ‘Do we have a deal?’
‘I suppose so,’ she muttered, blushing once more when he grimaced.
‘And so graciously accepted,’ he drawled, ‘it should be an evening to remember.’
Anna resisted the urge to slap him and jerked out of his hold. His arrogance was infuriating and she longed to dent his pride. ‘I’ve just remembered that I don’t have a free evening for weeks,’ she informed him sweetly.
‘That’s a pity, because no dinner means no donation,’ Damon replied hardly, seemingly unperturbed by the flash of fury in her blue eyes.
‘Are you saying that, even if I complete the race, you’ll only give your donation after I’ve had dinner with you?’ she queried heatedly, needing to have him spell it out. ‘That’s blackmail!’
‘That’s the deal,’ he stated with ominous finality. ‘Don’t look so downhearted, pedhaki mou. Who knows? You might even enjoy it.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ She bit back the rest of her angry words and took a hasty step away from him when Kezia returned from the cloakroom, holding her jacket.
‘Sorry I was so long,’ Kezia murmured, her gaze swinging from Anna’s mutinous face to Damon’s closed expression.
Anna gave her friend a tight-lipped smile. ‘Lovely dinner—will you pass on my compliments to Mrs Jessop, and say good night to Nik for me,’ she said briskly.
‘Be careful. I wish you weren’t driving down those dark country lanes on your own,’ Kezia replied concernedly, her frown clearing when Damon waved his car keys in the air.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be following close behind and I’ll see that Anna reaches home safely,’ he promised. ‘I need to put in a couple of hours work tonight, before a meeting tomorrow morning,’ he explained apologetically. ‘Many thanks for a delightful evening, Kezia.’
‘But I thought…’ Anna glared at him, incensed by his faintly proprietorial air. She didn’t need a bodyguard, for heaven’s sake. ‘I assumed you were staying here, at Otterbourne,’ she muttered as she followed him down the front steps of the house.
‘No, it’s easier for me to be based in central London. And besides, Nik and Kezia are so wrapped up in each other that I feel like a cuckoo in the love nest,’ he added with a grin that caused her insides to melt.
‘Well, I hope you’re not cutting your evening short because of some misguided belief that you need to escort me home,’ she said crisply as she unlocked her low-slung sports car and slid behind the wheel. ‘I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.’
‘I’m sure you are, pedhaki mou.’ The sudden sultriness of his tone caught her attention and her irritation increased when she discovered that his gaze was focused intently on the way her skirt had ridden up, exposing a length of slender thigh.
‘Drive carefully, Anna. I’ll be in touch,’ he added mockingly, causing her to slam the door so forcefully that the car shook.
‘Terrific,’ she muttered beneath her breath. She could hardly wait. She swung out of the drive, her mood as black as the pitch-dark lanes, and her temper was not improved by the gleam of his headlights following at a safe distance behind her. It was yet another example of Damon’s arrogance, she brooded. She had taken care of herself for most of her life and she valued her independence. She didn’t need an overbearing, damnably sexy Greek to suddenly muscle in.
Once on the motorway she pressed her foot down on the accelerator and felt the familiar thrill of pleasure as the car surged forwards. Her top-of-the-range, bright red sports car was an extravagance, especially when she spent most of her time driving around town, where it drank petrol. But here on the open road she could indulge her passion for speed and with luck lose her would-be protector.
Goodbye, Damon! With a satisfied smile she selected a CD and turned up the volume. She flew along in the fast lane and reached her junction in record time, slowing as she turned onto the slip-road leading from the motorway before stopping at the red light. A car pulled up in the next lane and when she turned her head her smile faded. Damn him! He must have been right behind her the whole way, she realised, glaring at him when he gave a mocking salute.
Even from this distance she was aware of the challenging gleam in his eyes and as their gazes clashed she found it impossible to turn away. It was dark but she could make out his profile—the sharp angle of his cheekbones and that square chin that hinted at a stubborn determination.
The only softness about his appearance was the way his thick hair curled onto his collar. He was the most gorgeous, sensual man she had ever met, she conceded, her reverie rudely shattered by an impatient hooting from behind that warned her the lights had changed to green. Thoroughly flummoxed and hot cheeked, she crunched the gears before finally pulling away.
He really was the bitter end, she thought irritably some ten minutes later when she turned into the parking area outside her flat and he drew up beside her. What was he waiting for now—a medal, or an invitation up to her flat for coffee? He was out of luck on both counts but innate good manners made her walk over to his car.
‘Thanks for seeing me back,’ she murmured politely.
‘No problem. I’ll wait until you’re safely inside.’
She was often fearful of who could be lurking in the bushes on either side of the communal front door and hated the short trip across the car park in the dark, but Damon’s tone irritated her. ‘I’m a big girl now and I really can look after myself, you know,’ she drawled.
‘I’m not convinced, pedhaki mou. For one thing, you drive too fast,’ he replied bluntly, the note of censure in his tone causing her hackles to rise.
‘I’m an excellent driver,’ she snapped indignantly. ‘I might drive fast, but I’m always careful.’
He surveyed her silently with his dark, brooding gaze. His eyes were hooded, giving no clue to his thoughts, but somehow he made her feel about six years old.
‘So, occasionally I like to live dangerously,’ she bit out belligerently, placing her hands on her hips in a gesture of silent challenge.
His low chuckle caused her to grind her teeth in irritation. ‘Then I can only hope that our dinner date is one of those occasions. Now off you go, before I decide to escort you up to your flat,’ he warned softly, ignoring her indignant gasp. ‘Good night, Anna, and sweet dreams.’
The sound of his mocking laughter followed her across the car park, but Anna refused to award him another glance and marched up the front steps, her back ramrod-straight. Damon Kouvaris was the devil incarnate, but if he thought she would allow him to disturb her calm, well-ordered life, he’d better think again.
Unfortunately the memory of Damon’s ruggedly handsome face disturbed her dreams to the extent that she woke the following morning feeling as though she had barely slept at all. Ahead of her lay a week of serious training for the half-marathon, but the thought of spending the day at the local sports centre, pounding the running track, held little appeal and with a groan she burrowed beneath the duvet.
It was late morning before she arrived at the track, spurred on by the knowledge that she had promised the children’s charity her support and couldn’t let them down. Even discounting Damon’s incredible sponsorship offer, she was set to raise many thousands of pounds for the charity. The event was to be televised, with many celebrities taking part, all hoping to raise public awareness, as well as funds for their chosen cause. Pride dictated that she didn’t make a complete fool of herself in front the cameras, and, although she hated to admit it—in front of Damon.
An hour later her pride was distinctly shaky, as were her legs. The early June sunshine was surprisingly warm and she was hot and breathless as she strove to keep her pace. The other runners on the track had all lapped her effortlessly and she sighed at the sound of footsteps behind her. How did they make it look so easy? she wondered despairingly.
‘How’s the training going? Have you run thirteen miles yet?’ The familiar honeyed tones caused her to miss her footing and she stumbled and would have tripped if a strong hand hadn’t quickly reached out to save her.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded crossly, irritated at the way her body was reacting with humiliating eagerness to the sight of Damon. Last night he had looked stunning in a formal dinner suit but today, in running shorts and black vest-top, he was spectacular.
Her eyes made a fleeting inspection of his broad shoulders and impressive, muscle-bound chest before sliding lower, over his shorts before coming to rest on his powerful thighs and long, tanned legs. His athletic build and superb muscle definition caused a peculiar weakness in the pit of her stomach. Cramp, she told herself irritably as she tore her eyes from his brooding gaze and stared along the track. ‘How did you know I was here?’
‘You told me last night that you intended to put in some training this week, and when I called at your flat your neighbour informed me that she’d seen you leave, carrying a kit bag. It didn’t take much to work out that you were probably at the nearest sports centre,’ he answered dryly, his eyes raking over her so that Anna felt acutely conscious that she must look a mess. She could feel the beads of sweat that had formed above her top lip and tried to capture them with the tip of her tongue, hoping to hide the evidence that she was exhausted.
‘Quite the Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?’ she snapped sarcastically, watching the way his eyes narrowed as they focused on the frantic movements of her tongue. ‘Well, now that you’ve found me, what do you want? You’re interrupting my training.’
‘Do all forms of physical exercise make you so grumpy?’ he queried with a grin, seemingly unconcerned by her unfriendly attitude. ‘I do hope not,’ he added dulcetly, his eyes glinting with amusement at her furious glare. ‘You look tired, pedhaki mou. I think you should take a break.’
‘I’m fine for several more laps yet,’ she lied. She shook her thick plait over her shoulder and started to jog once more.
‘Why have you decided to appoint yourself as my nanny?’
‘Oh, I have my reasons,’ he murmured, keeping pace beside her with infuriating ease. She felt his gaze trawl over her crop-top and the smooth expanse of her flat stomach before sliding lower to her tight, Lycra running shorts that clung to her hips and moulded her neat bottom. ‘Although I prefer to think of myself as your personal trainer.’
‘I don’t need a trainer. I need you to leave me alone.’ Her voice came out as a wail of frustration and she swung her head round to stare at him, thought better of it and kept on running. ‘Look, Damon, you’ve already blackmailed me into having dinner with you. Let’s just leave it at that,’ she muttered breathlessly. ‘I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to spend time with you, and I don’t date.’
‘You don’t date. Theos! Hardly a week goes by without a photo of you and your latest celebrity boyfriend posing for the tabloids,’ he retorted sardonically, unable to disguise his impatience. ‘Reports of your love life fill more newspaper columns than any political intrigue. What’s the real issue here, Anna? Is it the fact that I’m not some suitably famous TV soap star? I can assure you, I’m more of a man than any of the pretty boys you seem to favour.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ She halted in the middle of the track and glared at him in impotent fury. His arrogance would be funny if she hadn’t recognised the intrinsic truth of his last statement. Damon’s flagrant, raw masculinity unsettled her more than any other man she’d met.
Nothing would induce her to reveal that her alleged lovers were simply friends who for their own reasons found it useful to act the role of her escort. Living in the media spotlight was akin to living in a goldfish bowl and over the years she had learned to dismiss most of the rubbish that was written about her and her so-called wild love life. Now, as she stared at Damon she felt sickened by the hint of contempt in his eyes.
‘How dare you turn up here and…harass me?’ she exploded. ‘I’m not some blonde bimbo and, despite what you might have read in the tabloids, I am not an easy lay.’
She was shocked by the force of her emotions, the feeling of hurt, and blinked hard to dispel the stupid tears that had gathered in her eyes. She rarely cried, and never over a man. Years of witnessing her mother’s disastrous love life and subsequent slide into depression had taught her they weren’t worth it.
After her parents’ bitter divorce she had vowed never to be emotionally or financially dependent on anyone. The Ice Princess had a heart of glass and she felt a shaft of genuine fear that Damon seemed to possess the power to shatter it.
‘Did you really think you could just click your fingers and I would be yours for the taking?’ she demanded stiffly. ‘Because if so, I’ve got news for you.’
‘Credit me with a little more finesse, Anna,’ he replied lazily. ‘But I can’t deny I hoped for the chance to explore the awareness between us that we both recognised on Zathos. And why not?’ he continued. ‘We’re both consenting adults. Why shouldn’t we indulge in a mutually enjoyable affair?’
‘You mean sex without the inconvenience of messy emotions?’ she said scathingly, ignoring the devil in her head that was asking the question—why not? At least Damon was being honest. He wasn’t trying to woo her with meaningless romantic gestures and promises that they both knew he wouldn’t keep. Why not follow the dictates of her body for once rather than listen to the cool voice of common sense?
She sensed instinctively that Damon would be a passionate yet sensitive lover. But he would also be her first. It would almost be worth it, just to see the shock on his face when he realised she was a virgin, she brooded darkly. It was obvious that he believed every piece of tittle-tattle written about her an
d assumed that she led an active and varied sex life. She could imagine his disappointment when he discovered her inexperience.
Would he offer to tutor her? she wondered, heat coursing through her veins at the mental image of his hands gliding over her body, teaching her the language of love.
Stifling a gasp, she tore her gaze from his darkly handsome face. His heavy brows were drawn into a frown, his eyes hooded, hiding his thoughts, but she was aware of the electricity between them—an invisible force that set her nerve endings on fire and increased her acute consciousness of every breath he took.
What was she thinking of? She must be mad to have considered even for a second, becoming involved with him. In Damon Kouvaris she saw her father—handsome, charismatic and unable to remain faithful to one woman for more than five minutes. She would not repeat the mistakes her mother had made, she assured herself fiercely and she tilted her chin and stared at him coolly.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you but I have no intention of indulging in any kind of a relationship with you, certainly not a casual fling while you happen to be in London. You must be mistaken about Zathos,’ she added airily. ‘I don’t remember there being anything between us. In fact I’d practically forgotten you.’
‘Is that so?’ Beneath his indolent, faintly amused tone, she detected anger and steeled herself to fight him off when he caught hold of her shoulder and spun her round to face him. His dark eyes were mesmerising and she found herself trapped by the sensual heat of his gaze as he slowly lowered his head.
He was going to kiss her. Her brain sent out an urgent warning telling her to jerk free of his grasp, but she was boneless, enveloped in a haze of quivering anticipation as she waited for his lips to claim hers.
She had wanted this since she had first met him on Zathos, she admitted silently, unwittingly parting her lips in readiness. She needed him to take control, to tear down her defences and capture her mouth in a hungry, elemental kiss that would ignore her token resistance. Time seemed to be suspended as she waited, her eyes closed against the glare of the sun. She could feel his warm breath fan her cheek and as her desperation increased she swayed towards him, her senses leaping when she inhaled his clean, seductive scent.
The Greek Tycoon's Virgin Mistress Page 3