Bought by the Greek Tycoon

by Jacqueline Baird

  Heat coursed through Jemma's body and she lifted her hand, intending to grasp his wrist, wanting him to desist, but aching for more, but somehow her hand landed feebly on his shirtfront, and she couldn't deny what he said was true. 'Yes,' she whispered. He completely confused her, and his hand caressing her breast didn't help her thought processes one jot.

  'So we are in agreement at last,' he said huskily, before adding, 'As for the rest, your father heard what he wanted to hear. And our appearance tonight as an engaged couple freed him of all guilt.' His head moved a fraction and his lips brushed across her mouth and back again, to harden and deepen into a long, possessive kiss. By the time he lifted his head, to Jemma's chagrin she was leaning against him, breathless and melting.

  'I did you a favour, really, Jemma. Your family are convinced this is a love-match and can sleep happily in their beds free of any financial worry.' He gave her a knowing smile, his hand dropping from her breast to land casually on her thigh. She made a weak attempt to knock his hand away, but inside she was a quivering mass of electric excitement. 'And you can sleep happily in my bed, Jemma. You want me almost as much as I want you—though I don't expect you to admit it. But you will eventually. That I can promise you. In the meantime, as my soon-to-be wife and hopefully mother of my child, I expect you to behave as the sensible, sophisticated lady I know you to be—understood?'

  Jemma silently nodded her head in agreement, not trusting herself to speak. Though she hated to admit as much, she understood perfectly. Luke's version of events saved face all round—hers included.

  He was helping her out of the car before she had fully realised it had stopped. 'Wait,' she protested, glancing around. 'This isn't my street.'

  'No, it's mine. You and I have a lot to discuss; I'm leaving for New York tomorrow. The details of our wedding must be decided before I go, and I have no intention of doing that in the home you shared with your late husband.'

  About to refuse, she stopped. Financially he held all the cards, and physically, for some unknown reason, just the sight of him was enough to send her pulse racing—and he had done a damn sight more than look at her in the car, as her wayward body was hotly reminding her. 'Okay.'

  'Very wise,' he taunted softly, slipping a hand around her elbow and ushering her into the foyer. He stopped at the security desk and introduced her to the uniformed attendant. 'Sam, this is Jemma—my fiancée, I'm leaving tomorrow, but Jemma will be moving in here next week, so I'd appreciate it if you would accord her every courtesy, and inform the rest of your crew.'

  'Was that really necessary?' Jemma demanded as soon as the elevator doors swung closed behind them. 'I mean—'

  'You mean what? You would prefer to wait until after we are married to move in? Grow up, Jemma. You're an experienced woman of twenty-eight and you know the score as well as I do, so no more pretence. We have a deal, and the sooner you accept the fact, the better it will be for both of us.'

  The experienced woman bit was rather flattering; the rest she wasn't so sure about, and when he placed a hand at her back and urged her into the massive lounge of his apartment she had the childish desire to turn and run. But, sensing her ambivalence, Luke stroked his hand up her spine and settled around her shoulders. A minute later she was seated on the black sofa, watching as Luke strolled over to the drinks cabinet, removing his jacket and tie as he did so and dropping them on a seat.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. 'Would you like a drink?'

  'Just mineral water, please. Two glasses of wine is my limit.' She saw his grimace as he turned back to the cabinet, but a moment later he returned with two crystal glasses and handed her one.

  'Water, as requested,' he said sardonically, and casually lowered his long length down beside her. 'We really do need to talk, Jemma. I made some enquiries earlier, and it takes about sixteen days to marry in England. As you've already had a big wedding with your family, I thought we'd have a simple civil ceremony two weeks on Saturday. After I left you this afternoon, I gave notice to the registrar's office. It only remains for you to call in with your papers. How does that sound?'

  Terrifying! This was supposed to be a discussion? What a joke—Luke already had everything cut and dried, as far as she could see. Except she had plans of her own, and she wasn't going to allow him to ride roughshod over them. But, mindful of his comment about her age and sophistication, Jemma forced herself to reply coolly. 'That won't be possible, I'm afraid, because I won't be here. I've already arranged with Liz to take two weeks off before that. I have my flight booked for a week on Saturday; I'm going to Zante to meet with the man who takes care of my aunt's house and decide what repairs and decorating need doing. The wedding will have to be later, when I get back.'

  'Rubbish.' Luke turned towards her. His white dress shirt was open at the neck and gave her a disturbing glimpse of tanned flesh and black chest hair which she could have done without. She was just beginning to get her breath back from the episode in the car. Swallowing hard, she tried to concentrate on what he was saying. 'It couldn't be more perfect. I can easily arrange for us to marry in Greece.'

  'In Greece?' Jemma parroted incredulously.

  'It's the ideal solution. We can be married a week on Saturday at my home. I'll arrange for your family and friends to fly out, and Theo will be spared the hazard of travelling. We can honeymoon on Zante for the first week, to sort out the house, then go somewhere else. Theo can take over and supervise the alterations.'

  'No, we can't stay in the house,' she contradicted him flatly. 'And neither can Theo—the place isn't fit for him to live in.'

  'Okay, we can stay in a hotel, and Theo will have to wait to see his old home.' His grey eyes gleamed with mocking amusement as he added, 'But it is about time I saw the house that's costing me a fortune and my freedom.'

  'You've never seen the house?' Jemma queried. 'But I naturally assumed you were born there.'

  'No, Theo was born there, and so was my mother.' Luke drained his glass and placed it on the table, the slight smile vanishing from his handsome face to be replaced with a frown. 'But I was born in Athens, and my mother wasn't married. So you see I am the bastard you called me,'

  A blush suffused her face at the reminder of her earlier outburst. If she had known he was illegitimate she would never have been so tactless. She opened her mouth to apologise, but Luke briefly laid a silencing finger across her lips.

  'Don't bother, I don't mind, but unfortunately my grandmother did. So she insisted that Theo sell up and they all moved to Athens, where no one knew them. My mother died a few days after I was born, and my grandparents brought me up. Theo mentioned Zante once or twice, but my grandmother never did, and I had no interest in the place. In fact, and it shames me to admit it, I never realised Theo was that bothered about it until I discovered that ever since my grandmother died he's been trying to buy the place back.'

  'But why didn't he try sooner?' Jemma asked.

  A broad grin spread across Luke's handsome face, making him look almost boyish. 'Theo didn't dare, and I don't blame him. If you'd ever met my grandmother you'd know why—she was a small, lovable, but extremely formidable lady. She decreed that they would never look back or so much as mention Zante again when they left the island. She was also as stubborn as a mule, and it would have taken a braver man than Theo or I to defy her.'

  He can really be quite human. Jemma thought, trying to imagine the little Greek lady who had had the power to intimidate Luke Devetzi. 'I would have loved to meet her,' Jemma said wryly. And learn her secret,' she added, her lips curving back over her even white teeth in a mischievous smile.

  It was the first real smile she had given him, and Luke drew in a sharp breath. He reached out and cupped her head in his palms, his gaze dropping to her sweetly parted lips. 'I have a sneaking suspicion you might already know it,' he husked, and gently covered her tempting mouth with his own. He felt her slight resistance, and then the warmth of her breath mingled with his, and with the slightest touch of her
tongue all thought of gentleness faded.

  He deepened the kiss with a probing, hungry passion, exploring the moist interior of her mouth as he ached to explore the tight, moist interior of her incredible body that he remembered so well. He felt her arms reach up and stifled a groan at the softness of her fingers on the nape of his neck.

  Easing the zip of her dress down her back, he raised his head to stare down at her, his hands deftly sweeping the dress from her shoulders to her waist. He had Jemma exactly where he wanted her, and he battled to control the urge to take her here and now, on the sofa. Her incredible golden eyes were dazed with desire, and her lush breasts were firm and full, with exquisite rose-pink nipples that were begging to be tasted.

  'Are you going to make me wait until the wedding, Jemma?' he rasped, and then cursed himself for being fifty kinds of a fool. A wonderful willing woman in his arms and he had to stop and ask. 'Are you on the pill?' he asked, in a poor attempt to justify his idiocy.

  For Jemma it had been like diving off a cliff into uncharted seas. Every nerve in her body quivered with sensual excitement and she ran her tongue over her kiss-swollen lips, savouring the taste of Luke. She was hazy as to how it had happened, but with her blood pulsing heavily through her veins she stared up at him. She saw the flush of colour across his high cheekbones, the barely leashed passion in the depths of his silver eyes, and without thinking she surrendered completely to the urgent dictates of her body. 'No to both questions.'

  He swept her up in his arms, and she squealed, 'What are you doing?' as he pounded up the few steps to the main floor.

  'Taking you to bed.' He laughed down into her startled eyes. 'What else?' And before she had time to catch her breath he was lowering her onto a huge bed. 'Where you were meant to be,' he said, a gleam of triumph in his silver gaze as his fingers dealt swiftly with his shirt.

  The coolness of the cover on her back and the realisation that her dress was already half off had her blushing furiously and crossing her arms defensively across her chest. She heard his chuckle and glanced back up, her eyes widening in awed fascination at his bronzed near-naked body.

  He was so magnificently male—wide-shouldered, with a broad, muscular chest that had a dusting of black body hair that arrowed down to disappear beneath the waistband of his black silk boxer shorts. Shorts that bulged to an alarming degree and had her blushing even more furiously. Her gaze dropped lower, to view his muscular thighs and long legs. God, what was happening to her? she groaned inwardly, tearing her eyes away from him before she did the unthinkable and lunged at him.

  'No need to blush, Jemma. She felt the mattress depress and the heat of his body against her side. Trembling, she glanced up to find Luke propped up on one elbow, his sensuous lips curved in a sexy smile. 'And no need to hide your exquisite body, either,' he husked, reaching for one of her hands and placing it on his shoulder. Her fingers flexed on his satin-smooth skin, and she shivered as he took her other hand and pressed it to the bed, revealing her naked breasts to his avid gaze.

  'You have perfect breasts,' he murmured, his molten silver eyes meeting hers, and heat washed all through her. Then, dipping his head, he laved each straining nipple with his tongue, shooting needles of excitement from her breast to the apex of her thighs. Involuntarily she arched up towards him and he curled his hand into the folds of her dress, slipping the gown from her body. 'I want to see you naked,' he growled as her lace panties followed her dress. 'With your magnificent hair loose across my pillow.' And, suiting his actions to his words, he raked his fingers through her hair, dislodging the lightly pinned chignon, and pulled the long strands down across her shoulders and breasts.

  Trembling with excitement, Jemma was past caring about her hair. Her golden gaze flicking to his mobile mouth, she drew in an unsteady breath, hungry for his kiss. She tightened her hand on his shoulder and tried to urge him closer. He knew what she wanted, and with a teasing smile briefly dipped his head and brushed his mouth against hers. She groaned her disappointment as he leant back again.

  'Patience, Jemma, I want to examine every inch of you.' His hand curved around her throat and then trailed with tactile delight over her breast and the indentation of her waist. His glittering gaze swept down over her shapely length and back to her face. 'I want to taste every inch of you,' he amended shakily, his hand stroking lower, to her thigh. His head lowered and his lips, gentle as thistledown, trailed warm kisses over her brow, the tender skin of her eyelids, the soft curve of her cheek. 'Because this time I want there to be no doubt in your mind who's possessing you.'

  A flicker of unease tugged at her consciousness, but it had been too long since she had been naked in a man's arms, since she had felt the fierce pleasure of sexual arousal, and she wanted Luke badly. She reached for him with both hands and felt every pore of her skin open with the heat of his hard naked body against her own. Her lips parted in anticipation of his kiss and he did not disappoint. His mouth covered hers, his tongue stroked the sensitive roof of her mouth and her own tongue duelled with his while her slender arms wrapped around his broad back, her fingers reaching up to tangle in the soft black hair of his head.

  Luke's strong hand curved lovingly around a firm breast, his teasing fingers plucking at the sensitized, aching tip, and a low moan escaped her, her body on fire for him. His hand slid down over her stomach and she shuddered violently as his long fingers stroked through the soft curls at the junction of her thighs and found the hot liquid centre of her femininity. She whimpered with pleasure, her nails digging into his back, as he stroked the swollen nub of exquisite sensitivity until she was writhing beneath him, every nerve in her body taut with unbearable tension. Her hands moved down his back, and lower, to dig into the flesh of his thighs. She wanted to feel the full power of his possession and yet didn't want him to stop the feverish delight of his caressing fingers.

  'Yes, open for me, Jemma.' Luke rasped, and once more he captured her swollen lips in a savage kiss as he moved to settle between her legs. The hard, rigid length of his arousal pressed against her inner thighs, but no further. She moaned deep in her throat, desperate for his ultimate possession. But he raised his head and she stared at him with wild eyes. Not yet.' His mouth curved in a purely male predatory smile. 'I want you to remember this for the rest of your life,' he growled.

  Once more his head descended, his mouth capturing the engorged peak of one breast. His teeth bit lightly, and she jerked involuntarily, caught up in a game where only Luke knew the rules. She nipped at his shoulder, her hand sliding across his thigh, her fingers finding his hard shaft. But he tore her hand free and pinned it to the mattress with his own while he explored every inch of her with an erotic intimacy she had never thought possible, bringing her to the brink of pleasure over and over again. Then his mouth found hers, his tongue thrusting with an insinuating rhythm while his long fingers slid between her legs, sending shock waves crashing through her.

  Jemma could stand it no longer. Pressing fierce kisses to his massive chest, she pleaded, 'Please, Luke.' Her teeth found a small male nipple and bit it in a frenzy of need.

  Her plea ringing in his ears, Luke lifted her hips and drove into her incredibly tight silken sheath with a powerful thrust that brought a shuddering groan of sheer ecstasy from his throat. For the first time in twenty years he was making love without the use of protection, and he paused, fighting to control the intensity of sensation that exploded through every atom of his body.

  'Luke!' Jemma cried out his name as she felt the pulsing strength of him stretch and fill her, and then slowly he withdrew. 'No, no—don't stop,' she moaned frantically.

  'I couldn't if I tried,' Luke grated desperately, and began to drive into her again and again, taking her in a fierce primitive rhythm that Jemma met and matched, until seconds later her body convulsed in a shattering climax.

  Jemma felt Luke's shuddering release as he collapsed on top of her, her inner muscles clenching spasmodically around him as his seed spilled inside her. She clun
g to him, her hands instinctively caressing his broad shoulders, stroking over the satin-smooth shoulderblades, her fingers tracing the indentation of his spine, awed by the power and the wonder of their coupling. The weight of his magnificent body pinned her to the bed, and the tortured sound of their breathing was the only sound in the stillness of the room.

  Later, although how much later—one minute or ten—Jemma was incapable of knowing, Luke eased his now familiar weight off her, and leant on one forearm, looking intently into her beautiful, love-dazed face. 'That was amazing, Jemma,' he declared with a broad grin. 'And, in case you have any doubt, that was the first time since I was a teenager that I neglected to use protection. I can assure you I have a totally clean bill of health, so you have nothing to worry about.'

  It was the smug masculine satisfaction in his tone that infuriated Jemma, and brought home as nothing else could how far apart they were in the sexual stakes. With the one exception of Luke, a year ago, she had only slept with Alan. But Luke was the direct opposite; he had had so many lovers that health checks were probably a necessity of life for him.

  'Thank you for that,' she said, barely containing her sarcasm. 'But now, if you don't mind—' she edged away from him '—I have to get home. Friday is a busy day at work.' She slipped her feet over the side of the bed and stood up, terribly conscious of her nudity but determined not to show it. 'I have to be at the market by five a.m., and I would like to get a couple of hours' sleep first.' She moved to the foot of the bed and picked up her crumpled dress. She slid it over her head, sans underwear, before she dared to glance back at Luke.

  He was sprawled across the bed, his head propped up on one hand, his black hair sexily dishevelled. 'Pity. Are you sure I can't tempt you back to bed?' he asked lazily. 'I don't have to leave for New York until nine.'