by Lucy Gordon;Sarah Morgan;Robyn Donald;Lucy Monroe;Lee Wilkinson;Kate Walker
‘Very enlightened, don’t you think?’ His tone casual, Nikos reached out and closed strong fingers round Angie’s wrist, jerking her to her feet. ‘Some men might be put off by such brazen behaviour but I get very turned on by a woman who knows her own mind. In my experience they’re usually complete animals in bed.’
Deeply humiliated by his words and the fact that he hadn’t made the slightest effort to lower his voice, Angie tugged at her wrist, aware that Cyril was gaping at her along with just about every other person in the restaurant. ‘Let me go.’
Nikos tightened his grip and tugged her against him. ‘To have and to hold,’ he reminded her in smooth tones. ‘At the moment I’m doing the holding bit, but later on we’ll get to the “having” part of the arrangement and I predict that it will be extremely interesting.’
Unbelievably shocked and wishing she could just melt through the floor, Angie yanked at her wrist but failed to free herself. She couldn’t remember a moment in her life when she’d felt so completely humiliated. ‘I think we should continue this conversation outside.’
‘I entirely agree. I’ve never really been into the whole group thing.’ Nikos summoned a waiter with an imperious lift of his free hand. ‘And, speaking of which, you ought to know that I don’t actually allow my future wife to dine with another man, so if you want to say goodbye then do it now while I settle the bill. But no physical contact, please, especially no kissing.’ He handed a card to the waiter and Angie took a step backwards, feeling physically sick at the thought of actually kissing Cyril.
‘It’s typical of you to reduce everything to the physical. My relationship with Cyril is on a much higher level than anything you can possibly understand,’ she said tightly and Nikos gave a careless shrug of his broad shoulders.
‘I don’t really care what level my relationships are on providing they’re conducted in the horizontal plane.’
Angie enjoyed a brief but satisfying mental image of Cyril standing up and thumping Nikos hard but in reality he sat frozen in his chair, a look of stupefied disbelief on his face. And anyway, she thought gloomily, there was no doubting who the winner would be in any physical encounter. A man like Cyril, with his slightly bony hairless wrists sticking out from beyond a jacket that was much too small for him, was absolutely no match for Nikos, who was a prime specimen of athletic, muscled Greek manhood.
She gave a frown and a slight shake of her head, horrified by the direction of her thoughts. Cyril was a respected academic. A civilised person. He wouldn’t ever stoop so low as to indulge in physical confrontation and she wouldn’t want him to. She didn’t approve of such behaviour. On the other hand, she would have at least expected him to use some of his intellectual skills to deliver an appropriate verbal put-down.
She turned to him, frustrated that he would allow himself to be treated so badly. ‘Cyril—say something.’
‘Yes, please do feel free to contribute to the discussion.’ Nikos raised an eyebrow in mocking anticipation and Cyril spluttered slightly and half rose to his feet.
‘I—I can afford to pay for our meal.’
Angie ground her teeth and Nikos gave a half smile, clearly all too aware of her frustration. ‘I’m sure you can in a place like this. Consider it compensation,’ he drawled in a bored tone as he settled the bill and pocketed his card. His eyes rested on Angie for a long moment, his gaze faintly mocking. ‘Although, on reflection, you should probably be the one paying me to take her away. I’m doing you a favour. She would have made you miserable.’
‘And you think she can m-make you happy?’ Stammering and virtually incoherent with shock and surprise, Cyril rose to his feet but Nikos gently pushed him back into his seat.
‘She’s going to make me extremely unhappy,’ he said softly, ‘which I believe was her intention when she proposed. But nowhere near as unhappy as I intend to make her. And at least I know I won’t be bored.’
Without giving the shell-shocked Cyril time to compose a suitable response, Nikos strode from the restaurant, virtually dragging Angie after him. He pushed his way through the door of the restaurant and out on to the pavement without breaking stride and virtually threw her into the back of the black limousine waiting on the kerb.
Chapter Four
SPRAWLED inelegantly over the sumptuous leather seat, Angie tried to right herself. Her hair had tumbled from the knot at the back of her head and her cheeks were flushed. Her loss of dignity disturbed her and she rounded on him in anger. ‘How dare you create such a scene in a public place? And you were unforgivably rude to Cyril. You’ve just left him sitting there!’
Nikos leaned forward and issued a string of instructions in rapid Greek. Instantly the driver manoeuvred the car into the traffic.
‘If he cared that much then he shouldn’t have let me take you away.’ He settled himself back in the seat. ‘And you were just dying for him to stop me, weren’t you? Just longing for him to stand up and thump me.’
The fact that he’d been able to read her so well was extremely frustrating. ‘Cyril would never do anything so grossly uncivilised.’
‘No, he probably wouldn’t, but try not to be upset about it.’ His tone sympathetic, he stretched his long legs out in front of him, the expression on his handsome face unbearably smug. ‘You’re with a real man now.’
She stared at his cold, handsome face in disbelief. ‘You’re insufferably arrogant. I don’t know how any woman can stand you.’
‘Well, if Cyril is an example of your taste in men then I can understand your confusion.’ His voice was a languorous drawl, his eyes lingering on her face in mocking contemplation. ‘But the truth, agape mou, is that you find me almost unbearably exciting, don’t you? You can’t stop making comparisons and you just hate that because you like to think that you’re above having such a basic human need as a desire for sex, but secretly you’re absolutely longing for it.’
She gasped. ‘I don’t find you exciting.’
‘You do. It’s just that you don’t recognise the feeling because up until now your life has been totally devoid of the feeling and I’m sure that’s entirely natural if you’ve been mixing with men like Cyril.’
‘I repeat,’ she said with a soft gasp, ‘I don’t find you exciting. And I’m certainly not longing for sex. Why do you have to reduce everything to its most basic? If you must know, I happen to be more interested in the human mind than the human body.’ She knew her cheeks were pink but couldn’t help it. She’d never had a conversation like this before in her life. Sex wasn’t something she talked about.
‘The human race is basic. If it wasn’t then we wouldn’t survive.’ Thick, dark lashes lowered slightly as he studied her. ‘Man was born with an urge to procreate. It’s an entirely inbred and natural urge.’
She felt the slow spread of warmth between her thighs and her hands clenched into fists on her lap. ‘I suppose that’s your justification for your irresponsible sex life.’
‘Active sex life,’ he corrected her gently. ‘Active.’
The term conjured up more images that she didn’t want to face. Nikos, his hard athletic body entwined with that of some pathetically willing woman. ‘So you’re just doing your bit for mankind?’ She used sarcasm to hide the growing tumble of emotions inside her.
‘I’m saying that hot sex between a man and a woman who are attracted to each other is entirely natural.’
Hot sex? The colour in her face deepened and she grew more and more uncomfortable. ‘You’re entitled to your opinion, of course, but some of us have different priorities in life. Personally, I find a mental connection more stimulating than anything that happens physically.’
He smiled, maddeningly relaxed and at ease. ‘Our priorities are often set by our experiences. You’re more interested in the mind because you’ve spent your entire life in the company of men like Cyril who have nothing else to offer.’
Her heart was pounding hard against her chest. ‘Cyril is more stimulating company than you will ever be.�
��
‘Really?’ Nikos leaned forward, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Does he make your heart race and your breath catch, Dr Littlewood? When you’re with him is your body on fire? In bed together, does he make you forget you’re an archaeologist? Does he make you forget absolutely everything except the fact that you’re a woman?’
She stared at him, hypnotised, so shocked that it took her a moment to find her voice. Then the colour flooded into her cheeks and she looked away quickly, staring out of the window in an attempt to calm herself. ‘It’s typical of you to reduce everything to sex but my relationship with Cyril isn’t like that.’
‘I find it all too easy to believe you.’ His tone bordered on the derogatory. ‘You probably both approach sex like an academic exercise, consulting the appropriate texts in order to derive evidential support in favour of the physical act.’
She whipped her head round at that, just furious with him! ‘I’m not interested in having sex with Cyril!’
‘You shouldn’t blame yourself for that,’ he assured her in sympathetic tones. ‘I’m sure most women would feel the same way. He isn’t the right guy for you. You need someone more physical to break down all those barriers you’ve built up around yourself.’
She didn’t even want to think about it! Her whole body was trembling and she felt hot inside and out of control in a way that she didn’t understand. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Stop the car and let me out. I insist that you stop the car. I don’t want to spend another moment in your company.’
‘You should have thought of that before you proposed,’ he pointed out, his eyes suddenly hard. ‘You’re the one who wanted to be my wife and that position comes with certain rules, I’m afraid. One of them is that no wife of mine is permitted to be with another man. Even someone with such a dubious claim on masculinity as your Cyril.’
‘He’s not my Cyril.’ She struggled to wriggle her foot back into the shoe that had somehow become parted from her foot during her less than elegant entrance into the car. She felt flustered and completely out of her comfort zone. She’d never had a conversation like this with anyone before and she found it hideously uncomfortable.
‘No, you’re right, he isn’t your Cyril.’ His smile was less than pleasant. ‘At least, not any more.’
She jammed her foot hard into her shoe and brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘You have absolutely no right to tell me who I can and can’t see.’
‘I’m Greek,’ he reminded her gently, the hard glint in his eyes negating the apology in his tone. ‘We’re a very possessive race, I’m afraid. Not that great at sharing. Sorry, but that’s just the way it is. I’m sure you’ll learn to live with it. You probably ought to be grateful to me. You never would have been happy with a man like him.’
‘You’re doing this on purpose! You’re trying to make me loathe you so much that I just give you the jewel to get you out of my life. Well, it isn’t going to happen. You are not going to get away with treating women badly any longer. This time, you’re going to pay the price.’
The driver steered the car through the heavy London traffic and Angie sat back against the seat, fuming. And panicking. She realised suddenly that she hadn’t actually believed for a moment that he’d agree to her proposition and the implications of her revenge plan suddenly hit home. She was used to a quiet, ordered life. Never would she have described herself as a tense person but every time Nikos strolled into the room her stress levels seemed to rocket. Her insides churned and her whole body behaved in a way that was completely inexplicable. It was all very well forcing him to marry her, but how was she going to stand being with him day after day? He’d be in the office, she reminded herself quickly. And she could always find somewhere quiet to read in the evenings.
And anyway, none of this was about her. It was about Tiffany. She owed it to her sister to at least make him think about what he’d done.
But what about him? Why had a man like him, a man who had spent his entire adult life avoiding commitment, accepted the idea of marriage so readily?
Did he want the jewel that badly or was marriage to her simply not as distasteful as she’d believed it would be?
She looked at him for a moment, studying his cold, handsome face through narrowed eyes and suddenly knew exactly why the idea of marriage didn’t disturb him as much as it should. Obviously he wasn’t the sort of man to allow a little thing like a wedding to stand in the way of his continual pursuit of women. Just like her father, he was clearly planning to have numerous extramarital affairs and if he did that then it would defeat the purpose of forcing him to marry her. He wouldn’t suffer at all.
What could she do? What could she do that would actually have an impact on him? Her mind working fast, she thought hard about the sort of man he was—all the things she‘d ever read about him. Nikos was a prime example of man at its most basic. All that seemed to matter to him was sex. Inspiration struck and suddenly she knew exactly how she could make her revenge all the more sweet.
‘I wish to see a lawyer,’ she blurted out quickly. ‘If we’re going to get married then there are going to be certain conditions. I want a pre-nuptial agreement.’
He threw back his head and laughed in genuine amusement. ‘If you think I would marry you without a pre-nuptial agreement then you truly know nothing about the man you’re taking on. I’ve already told you, if you’re hoping for money you can forget it because you won’t get a single penny out of me. And why you would think you need a pre-nuptial agreement completely escapes me.’
She gave him a superior smile. ‘That’s because you don’t tend to use your brain very much, do you? Like most men, you think with an entirely different part of your anatomy.’
She’d never imagined that such a powerfully built man could move so fast. He was as swift and silent as a predator closing in on its prey. One moment he was lounging with careless indifference against the furthest edge of the car, the next his hand was clamped in her hair and her body was pressed up against his as he held her captive. It was primal, basic, male on female and she felt everything inside her lurch.
‘What are you doing?’ Breathless, her heart pounding against her chest, she pushed at the hard muscle of his shoulders but he didn’t shift. ‘Get off! Let me go.’
‘Do you know what I really think, agape mou?’ His mouth was so close to hers that she could feel his breath warming her lips and she didn’t dare move even a fraction because then their mouths would touch. This close she could see the thickness of his lashes, the seductive curve of his mouth and the darkening shadow on his jaw. ‘I think that after a less than stimulating evening staring at your Cyril, you’re dying to know what it’s like to be kissed by a man like me.’
She stared at him, hypnotised by the slumberous look in his molten eyes and the soft drawl of his slightly accented voice. ‘I’ve told you a million times, he’s isn’t my Cyril and you have a ridiculously high opinion of yourself.’
‘I have an entirely accurate opinion of myself,’ he amended, ‘whereas you don’t appear to know yourself at all. I’m starting to think it might be interesting to show you who you really are. You, who spend your life unearthing the secrets of others, might be about to discover a few secrets about yourself.’
He felt hard, tough and masculine. Her stomach tumbled and lurched and she tried again to push him away. ‘You’re making me hot—’
‘I know. I’m very experienced with women. I can tell that you’re very turned on.’ His voice was a soft purr and she felt her temper flare.
‘I meant that the weather is too warm to have you lying on top of me.’ She glared at him and he shifted away from her with athletic grace.
‘Of course, if you want to blame the weather for your current hot flush then that’s fine by me.’
She decided not to dignify his mocking statement with a reply. ‘Where are we going?’ Turned on? She wasn’t turned on. She was outraged. She wriggled as far away from him as possible, aware of his gaze lingering on her ha
ir. ‘Stop staring at me. And don’t even think about telling me I need highlights and a haircut.’
He was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on her hair. In fact he stared at her for so long that she started to squirm in her seat. All right, she knew that she probably didn’t pay enough attention to her appearance, but did he really have to labour the point?
But before she could open her mouth and issue another verbal attack, he lifted a hand and touched her hair, twisting a silky strand round his long bronzed fingers. ‘Your hair is a very unusual colour. Vibrant. Changing it would be nothing short of criminal.’ His fingers slid slowly through her hair in a gesture that seemed astonishingly intimate. ‘And I wouldn’t say it needs cutting either. Most men find long hair more erotic in bed.’
Transfixed by the look in his eyes, she felt the temperature inside her soar to dangerous levels and jerked away from him. ‘You’re impossible! Do you really think I wear my hair long because it is more erotic in bed?’
‘No.’ He gave a slow smile and moved his hand, allowing her hair to fall back to her shoulder. ‘I don’t think you know the meaning of the word erotic.’
‘Well, that’s where you happen to be wrong,’ she said primly, relieved to finally be on familiar ground. ‘The word “erotic” derives from Eros, who was the God of love in Greek mythology and said by most legends to be the son of Aphrodite, the Goddess of love and Ares, the God of War.’
He studied her in silence for a moment and then gave a faint smile. ‘Actually, many would argue with you on that point. Some believe that Eros was descended from Chaos and he was the God of Lust, not love. Of passion and sex.’ His eyes were fixed on hers, his gaze disturbingly intense. ‘But this is all very boring and I wasn’t actually talking about the derivation of the word,’ he said softly, his eyes sliding to her mouth. ‘I was talking about the true meaning of the word in modern use, so let me now give you my definition.’