When he placed her on the bed she clung tightly to him as if she feared that he would withdraw from her.
‘Easy, pedhaki mou—there’s no rush,’ he murmured gently when she gripped his shoulders and pulled him down on top of her.
He didn’t understand, she thought wildly. She had to do this now, while her nerve still held. With a muttered cry she sought his mouth while her fingers scrabbled with his shirt buttons. When she finally freed them she pushed the material aside to run her hands over his chest.
He had an incredible body—lean and powerful, the hard muscles of his abdomen clearly visible beneath his olive-gold skin. His body hair felt slightly abrasive against her palms and she trembled as she imagined how it would feel against the tender flesh of her breasts.
‘My turn,’ he teased softly as his hand moved to untie the straps of her halter neck. He must be a mind-reader, Anna decided feverishly when he slowly peeled the material down her body to leave her pale breasts exposed to his gaze. She watched the way his eyes darkened, recognised the elemental hunger in his gaze and gave a soft moan when he lowered himself onto her so that they lay together, skin on skin.
His lips trailed a sensual path from her mouth, down her throat to nestle briefly in the valley between her breasts. Anna held her breath when he cupped each soft mound in his palms before he lowered his head to stroke his tongue across one sensitive peak and then the other. Exquisite sensation flooded through her and she slid her fingers into his hair, silently urging him to continue working his magic.
Perhaps understanding her desperation, he drew one nipple fully into his mouth and suckled her until she arched beneath him and rocked her hips against his with devastating effect.
‘Theos, Anna, I don’t think I can wait,’ he muttered hoarsely. He lifted his head for a second, his face a taut mask of desire, before he flicked his tongue over her other tight bud, watching with apparent fascination as it hardened to a throbbing peak that begged for his attention.
Anna closed her eyes and gave herself up to the wondrous sensations Damon was arousing within her. Her body felt as though it were on fire and the dull ache in the pit of her stomach intensified until it was a clamouring need. She shifted her hips restlessly as molten heat pooled between her thighs and even when she felt him tug her dress down, over her hips, she was still utterly certain that this was what she wanted to do.
The brush of his hand on her inner thigh made her quiver with excitement. Her only covering now was a tiny triangle of lace and she inhaled sharply when she felt his fingers dip beneath the waistband to stroke gently through the downy curls at the apex of her thighs.
This was still good, she told herself frantically as the first doubts crept into her head. She was aware of his fingers sliding lower, knew instinctively that any second now he would part her and touch her where she wanted him most.
Oh, God, she wanted him to continue, wanted it desperately, but the heat was draining from her body. Where she had been wet and ready for him, now she was dry, her muscles rigid with tension as the image of her stepfather’s leering smile pushed into her mind.
‘Shall I tell you where I’d like to touch you, Annie?’
‘What is it, Anna mou?’ Damon lifted his head to smile down at her with tender passion. She stared at him wildly, willing herself to relax, but she couldn’t do it. As his fingers gently stroked her she jerked her legs together and pushed her hands against his chest.
‘No, no! I can’t. Please, Damon, let me up. Please,’ she whispered, unconsciously pleading for his forgiveness as she watched his face tighten until his skin seemed to be stretched over the sharp angle of his cheekbones. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.’
As he rolled away from her she snatched her robe from the end of the bed and thrust her arms into it before dragging it tightly over her breasts. She felt sick. Any minute now she would actually throw up. It would be the final humiliation and she snatched air into her lungs—great, gasping breaths that made her chest heave.
She could hardly bear to look at Damon, sure that she would see both disgust and contempt in his gaze. But when she dared to peep at him, she saw neither. He simply looked weary and curiously deflated. She could almost believe that she had hurt him and the thought made her crumple.
‘You must hate me.’ She was determined not to cry in front of him but was powerless to prevent the tears that slid down her face. She heard his heavy sigh and crossed her arms over her chest when he stood and walked towards her. He had refastened his shirt buttons in the wrong holes and the mistake was a telling indication of his inner torment that made her tears flow faster.
‘Why must I hate you?’ he queried gently.
‘You must think I’m a tease—that I deliberately led you on and then—’ She broke off and shook her head, unable to continue.
‘Is that what you were doing, Anna? Were you deliberately taunting me?’ His tone was flat and so devoid of any emotion that she had no idea what he was thinking. Did he really despise her? The thought was unbearable and she lifted her head to stare into his eyes.
‘No. I wanted you. I thought I could do it. I honestly thought I could go through with it,’ she whispered huskily.
It was a peculiar phrase and Damon frowned. She had responded to him with such passion that he had believed she wanted to make love with him. The idea that she had been steeling herself to ‘go through with it’ was repugnant to him. Did she really view him as some sort of ogre? Yet she had seemed so eager when he had first carried her into the bedroom.
He’d known he was rushing her and was furious with himself. He’d planned to take it slow and had come to New York with the intention of wooing her until he won her trust. Instead he’d acted with all the finesse of Neanderthal man. It was little wonder she was staring at him so fearfully, he told himself impatiently.
The naked vulnerability in her eyes made him long to draw her into his arms and hold her close but he restrained himself and reached out to smooth her hair back from her face.
‘I don’t hate you, Anna—far from it. But I admit, I don’t always understand you,’ he added ruefully. ‘In my eagerness to make love to you, I mistook your response to me as an invitation to take you to bed.
‘I fear I am not as patient as your previous lovers,’ he groaned, his frustration with himself evident in the darkness of his eyes. ‘But I appreciate your need to feel that you can trust me before we take our relationship any further.’
His gentle understanding tore at Anna’s fragile emotions. From the first he had been honest about what he wanted from her and it was about time she returned that honesty.
‘My previous lovers—who would they be, Damon?’
He shrugged, a faint stain of colour running along his cheekbones. ‘Your affairs are headline news, but I’m not criticising you, pedhaki mou, I can hardly claim to have lived like a monk myself.’ He raked his hand through his hair, unable to disguise his frustration as he struggled to understand her. ‘Have your other boyfriends let you down? Is that what this is about?’
‘There haven’t been any other boyfriends—not in the way you mean,’ she whispered, her heart thudding painfully in her chest as she absorbed his stunned expression. ‘I’ve never had a lover.’
‘But what of the other men in your life…the numerous love affairs reported in the tabloids?’
‘Gossip and speculation by editors desperate to boost sales of their rags,’ she explained with a harsh laugh. ‘For some reason my photo on the front cover of magazines increases sales, and an article concerning my supposed sex life sells even better. Some of the men I’ve been linked with are friends, nothing more. Others I’ve barely met, but they believe that having their name linked with mine will be a good career move. I warned you not to believe every trashy article about me,’ she taunted, trying to sound flippant to disguise her hurt.
‘Are you telling me you’re a virgin?’
In different circumstances the utter disbelief in his voice
would have been comical but Anna had never felt less like laughing.
‘It’s not a crime, you know.’ To her horror she felt her eyes glaze with tears and she swung away from him, desperate to hide her distress. ‘I’d like you to leave now. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.’ Her eyes fell on the rumpled sheets where a few moments ago she had ached with desire for him. Now the ache was around her heart but she would rather die than suffer the humiliation of having him pity her.
‘Anna, I…’He reached out to her but she jerked away and fled towards the bathroom.
‘Just go, Damon,’ she begged brokenly. ‘Accept that I am not the woman you thought I was—the experienced seductress you want me to be. I’m sure there must be a dozen blondes in your little black book who can offer uncomplicated sex,’ she choked as she scrubbed her wet face with her hand. ‘Trust me, you’re wasting your time with me.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN Anna finally found the courage to emerge from the bathroom she was relieved to discover that Damon had gone. She crawled into bed and cried until there were no more tears left, before falling into a restless sleep.
Next morning she woke feeling like death and stumbled into the bathroom to stare at her blotchy face and puffy eyes. She’d read somewhere that crying was supposed to be cathartic, a natural purging of emotions, but all it had done was leave her with a murderous headache.
It took several minutes for her to realise that the knocking sound was coming from the door, rather than someone performing a clog dance inside her head. Muttering a curse, she went to answer it and stared in bemusement at the smiling waiter.
‘Room service,’ he announced breezily as he steered his trolley past her.
‘There must be some mistake. I didn’t order anything,’ she protested. ‘You must have the wrong room.’
‘Number 158, breakfast for two,’ he insisted. He began to unload the contents of the trolley onto the table. ‘We have orange juice, coffee, eggs, hash browns, bagels…’
‘All I want is a couple of aspirin and a cup of tea,’ she muttered weakly, her stomach churning at the thought of food.
‘Yes, you do look a bit rough this morning. It’s lucky the editors of Vogue magazine can’t see you right now,’ a familiar accented voice sounded from the doorway. ‘That will be all, thanks,’ Damon dismissed the waiter and strolled into the room, his lips twitching at the sight of Anna’s outraged glare.
‘I’ve spent the night from hell. Is it any wonder I look a bit rough?’ she demanded furiously. Having believed that she would never have the courage to meet his gaze again, she was now seriously tempted to throw a bagel at his head, followed by the coffee-pot.
She placed her hands on her hips, quivering with rage and another; rather more disturbing emotion when he crossed the room and gently tilted her chin.
‘You will always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me, Anna mou.’
‘Don’t.’ The inherent tenderness in his tone brought fresh tears to her eyes and her lashes fell.
‘I’m sorry you had a bad night. If it’s any consolation, mine was possibly worse.’
She lifted her head to study his face and noted the faint lines around his eyes and the deeper grooves on either side of his mouth. Bad night or not, he still looked gorgeous, she thought numbly when his mouth curved into a soft smile that melted the ice around her heart.
‘I understand you’re free today,’ he said cheerfully. Although he did not offer an explanation of how he knew, Anna noted irritably. ‘I thought we’d have a lazy breakfast and then spend the rest of the day exploring the city—maybe take a cruise around Manhattan. The full trip takes about three hours and guarantees excellent views of all the famous landmarks.’
‘Why?’ Anna queried huskily, trying hard not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. Her most sensible course of action would be to catch the next flight home and try to forget she had ever met Damon Kouvaris.
‘Why take the boat trip? It seems a more relaxing way of seeing the sights than by road, but there are plenty of bus tours if you’d prefer.’
‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You don’t have to spend the day with me. It won’t change anything,’ she said awkwardly, her cheeks suffusing with colour at his quizzical glance.
‘I’m not expecting you to leap into bed with me as payment for an entertaining day out,’ he informed her dryly. ‘I would simply like to spend some time with you, Anna,’ he added softly as he cupped her jaw and lifted her face to his.
His kiss was sweetly evocative, his lips as light as gossamer on hers before he lifted his head to stare into her eyes. ‘I don’t know what happened in your past, pedhaki mou, and, without resorting to thumbscrews, I can’t force you to confide in me. Something—someone obviously hurt you so badly that you’re afraid to put your trust in anyone. But I’m not simply going to walk away from you.’
‘Even knowing that I’ll never be able to make love with you?’ she whispered. ‘Because I can’t, Damon. Last night, I thought it would be all right. I wanted you so much,’ she admitted with a raw honesty that shook him. ‘But when it came to it, I just…froze.’ Tears filled her eyes and she blinked furiously. What was it about this man that left her emotions in tatters?
Damon slid his arms around her and she felt him brush his lips against her hairline. ‘Never is a long time. Let’s just take it one day at a time. You froze last night because I rushed you and you weren’t ready. I understand how important trust is to you, Anna. You need to feel confident that I won’t hurt you or let you down. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove that you can have faith in me.’
He was impossible to resist, Anna thought weakly as she laid her head on his chest and absorbed his strength. Where she had expected him to be angry with her, or at least impatient, he had shown her nothing but understanding and kindness. It was a long time since she had felt cared for and she feared it could become addictive.
Damon dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose and led her over to the table. ‘I hope you’re hungry. This is breakfast New York style,’ he smiled as he surveyed the laden table.
‘I’m starving,’ Anna replied, surprised to find it was true. After a night of utter misery she’d thought she would never be able to eat again, but to her amazement she discovered that her appetite had returned. She sat down and heaped a pile of fluffy scrambled eggs onto her plate. ‘Aren’t you going to join me?’
Her tentative smile caused a curious pain in Damon’s gut. With her face scrubbed free of make-up and her hair caught up in a pony-tail, she looked young and painfully innocent. Although he was still reeling at the thought of just how innocent, he acknowledged grimly.
He didn’t doubt for a second that she had spoken the truth when she’d admitted her complete lack of sexual experience. He only wondered how he had missed the signs for so long. He had been guilty of believing all the trash written about her, but her determination to raise money for the children’s hospice should have told him she was nothing like her image of a spoilt supermodel.
Anna was beautiful inside and out, but she was also emotionally fragile and haunted by demons from her past. He’d spent a hellish night wrestling with his conscience, knowing that he had neither the time nor the capability to help her. He had commitments she knew nothing about—baggage in the form of a child who would always be his first priority.
When was a good time to drop into the conversation that you had an eight-year-old daughter? he brooded darkly. The situation had never arisen before. In the years since Eleni’s death, he’d never felt the slightest inclination to deepen his relationship with any of his mistresses to the level where Ianthe became an issue.
But Anna was different. He…cared, he accepted as he responded to her smile and watched the way her cheeks flushed with pleasure. He didn’t understand how, or why, it had happened, he just knew that he wanted her in his life.
Sex was obviously a problem for her, but rather than lessening his desire it only
made him want her more. He wanted to help her overcome her fears. He wanted to tutor her and watch her as she experienced sexual pleasure for the first time. She stirred feelings within him that were primitive and deeply possessive and he was prepared to wait for as long as it took until she felt ready to give herself completely to him.
He took his place at the table and helped himself to food, although his appetite had deserted him. How the hell could he ask her to trust him when he was guilty of keeping a fundamental part of his life from her? He had to tell her about Ianthe, and sooner rather than later.
‘…Damon.’
He was suddenly aware that Anna was speaking to him and forced himself to focus.
‘It’s fine if you’ve changed your mind about today,’ she murmured, unable to hide her uncertainty. ‘I’m sure you have better things to do than spend the day with me.’
‘No,’ he replied with simple honesty, ‘there’s nothing I would rather do than be with you.’ He paused for a heartbeat and then added, ‘How long do you plan to spend in New York?’
‘You mean you haven’t already checked my diary?’ Her brows arched in a look that was pure Anneliese Christiansen—ice-cool and disdainful—before her face broke into an impish smile that was the real Anna. ‘I have a photo shoot booked for next week, but there’s little point in flying home between now and then. Besides, I’m quite happy to have some free time here. How about you?’ she queried hesitantly. ‘I assume you have to return to Greece soon.’
‘I am my own master and I can do whatever I choose,’ he told her with a flash of his outrageous arrogance. ‘And I choose to stay until next week.’ His eyes gleamed with sensual heat as he trapped her gaze. ‘So, here we are, two people alone in Manhattan. I suggest we team up for the next few days. Safety in numbers and all that,’ he added with a grin.
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