Removing her hands from his shoulders she flattened her palms against his chest, trying not to be distracted by the hard wall of muscle as she stared up into his face. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded.
He didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by her furious accusation as he lifted his broad shoulders in a careless shrug. ‘I should have thought that was perfectly obvious.’
‘So suddenly you’re all over me, having ignored me all the way through dinner last night?’ she accused.
‘You were so combative that you deserved to be ignored,’ he said softly. ‘But I thought we’d agreed on a truce tonight?’
‘Does...?’ She swallowed, willing the erratic hammering of her pulse to subside. ‘Does a truce involve you coming on to me like that, in such a public way?’
‘Oh, come on, Tamsyn. Let’s not be hypocritical about what just happened. I thought you were enjoying yourself.’ He flickered her a slow smile. ‘I know I certainly was. And most people are too busy dancing to notice how close we were getting.’
Tamsyn shook her head, aware of the swing of heavy diamond earrings against her neck and nervously she touched the sleepers to check the precious jewels were secure. Which they were—unlike her. She was one seething mass of insecurity. And fear. She mustn’t discount the dominant emotion which was making her feel so scared. She felt as if she’d just stepped onto a sturdy wooden floor and it was about to give way beneath her. As if Xan Constantinides had the ability to waken something inside her—something which had been sleeping all these years. Suddenly the defiant persona she had perfected to protect herself from the kind of life her mother had lived, was in danger of crumbling before her eyes. Suddenly she was terrified of just how exposed he was making her feel. As if she was nothing but a bunch of sensitised nerve-endings which were jangling with hungry need. She shook her head again.
‘Look, I can’t do this,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry. Enjoy the rest of the party but I’m going to bed. It’s going to be a long flight tomorrow and I have a double shift on Monday. Nice meeting you, Xan,’ she said, and without another word she began to walk off the dance floor, aware of people turning to look at her as she hurriedly brushed past them.
Xan watched her go, caught in a rare moment of indecision, his eyes drawn to the bright shimmer of curls which cascaded like flames down her back. The voice of reason was urging him to let her go, because she was trouble. Anyone could see that. All mixed up and not his type. But the hunger of his body was more powerful than reason and he’d never had a woman walk away from him before—not like this. Was this how Hannah had snared the Sheikh—the two very ordinary Wilson sisters possessing a simple but effective strategy which would make powerful men lust after them?
Like a man hypnotised he found himself following her, mesmerised by the slender curve of her glittering bottom as she left the dance floor, surprised when she didn’t look back. Not once. There was no furtive side glance to check whether he was on her tail. And that was exciting, too. Her steps were determined—as if she really wanted to get away from him. This was the chase, he realised—the chase which other men spoke of but which he’d never encountered before. He could feel the tightening of his groin and hear the wild thunder of his heart, when suddenly she disappeared from sight and he was unprepared for the disappointment which flared through him. Purposefully increasing his pace, he rounded the corner and saw her—and perhaps the sound of his footsteps was enough to make her stop and turn around—a look of bewilderment on her face, as if she was genuinely surprised to see him. As if she doubted her ability to make a man follow her.
‘Xan?’ she said, creasing her forehead in a frown.
‘Tamsyn,’ he answered, and began to walk towards her, aware of her nipples pushing hard against the crystalline bodice of her dress. As he approached, he could feel the warm rush of blood pumping through his body and in that moment he felt as if he would die if he couldn’t have her.
He had reached her now and could see her darkened pupils making her green eyes appear almost black—just as the moist tremble of her lips indicated an unspoken desire to have him to crush them with his own. And he would, he thought hungrily. He would take the wildcat Tamsyn Wilson to his bed and subdue her in the most satisfactory way possible.
CHAPTER FOUR
BENEATH THE FRETWORK of lanterns lighting the palace corridor, Tamsyn’s heart was thundering as she watched Xan approach, his powerful body outlined by the dark fabric of his formal suit. His face was dark too and his eyes glittered out a message of intent which started a tug of longing deep inside her. It scared and excited her and she wanted to carry on running, but something was keeping her feet fixed to the spot.
‘Nobody has ever walked off and left me standing alone on the dance floor like that,’ he observed huskily.
From somewhere she found a remnant of her usual flippancy. ‘Oh, dear. Poor Xan. Is your ego suffering?’
‘It’s not my ego I’m thinking about right now,’ he ground out.
Some of her composure began to slip away as Tamsyn became aware of how big and strong he looked and how it had felt to be in his arms. Hadn’t it been the most incredible sensation she’d ever experienced?
She cleared her throat, trying to dispel her euphoric recall. ‘Look, I thought I’d made my feelings clear. I’m tired and on my way to bed. I don’t know why you’re chasing me through the corridors as if we’re a pair of kids playing cops and robbers.’
‘Yes, you do. You know exactly why,’ he said softly. ‘Because I want you and you want me. We’ve wanted each other from the moment we met, Tamsyn and unless we do something about it, it’s going to drive us both crazy.’
It was one of those slow motion moments and Tamsyn felt her heart leap in her chest. Like when you heard something life-changing on the news. Only this wasn’t something which was happening to somebody else—it was happening to her. She was being propositioned by Xan Constantinides—the arrogant Greek billionaire!
Her throat grew dry as she looked at him, trying not to drink in all his dark beauty, knowing she had plenty of options available. She could call for a servant. Or carrying on walking and even if he followed, she could slam the door in his face, because instinct told her he wouldn’t charge at it with a battening ram, even if he looked physically capable of doing so. But even as these thoughts flickered through her mind, she realised none of them were an option. Xan Constantinides might not like her very much—nor she him—but she couldn’t deny that something had happened when he’d touched her on the dance floor.
He’d cast a spell on her. Woven some sensual kind of magic which was snaring her with invisible threads. She stared into the rugged beauty of his face, aware that this was a chance to shake off the real Tamsyn—the one who’d become brittle and defiant in order to survive. This was her opportunity to become someone else for a change. Somebody soft and dreamy and different.
‘You want to kiss me,’ he persisted softly. ‘You want that very badly, don’t you, Tamsyn?’
She wanted to deny it. To tell him that he was talking rubbish and to take his ego somewhere else. But she couldn’t. She found herself lifting her eyes to his, her heart filled with foreboding and longing as she attempted a shrug which didn’t quite come off. ‘I suppose so,’ she mumbled.
He seemed to find this amusing for his lips curved into a mocking smile. ‘You suppose so?’ he echoed, stepping forward to tilt her chin upwards with his finger. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been damned with so much faint praise.’
This was Tamsyn’s cue for a clever retort but right now she didn’t have one because he was slowly lowering his mouth on to hers. His lips were brushing over her trembling lips and she was finding it impossible not to respond. Her hands fluttered to his shoulders for support and suddenly he was pulling her closer with effortless mastery as he deepened the kiss.
And Tamsyn just lost it.<
br />
She’d been kissed before—of course she had—but never like this. She’d only ever known the thrust of a tongue and the unwanted slick of saliva. She hadn’t realised that a kiss could feel like a one-way ticket to heaven. Did her dreamy gasp startle him? Was that why he drew back, before glancing both ways down the corridor and lacing her fingers with his. ‘Come with me,’ he said, his voice curiously uneven.
‘Come where? Where are we going?’
‘Where do you think we’re going?’ His eyes glittered with unmistakable promise. ‘I’m taking you to bed.’
His masterful and slightly callous statement should have shocked her, but it didn’t. Instead it thrilled her and Tamsyn could feel her cheeks glowing as he led her through endless corridors, the click-clacking of her high heels against the marble floor the only sound she could hear above the deafening thunder of her heart. Afterwards she would try to justify her behaviour by telling herself she’d been disorientated at finding herself in a desert palace, which was only adding to the fantasy-like feel of what was happening. As if the real Tamsyn Wilson was looking down and seeing a breathlessly excited woman who couldn’t wait for the powerful Greek tycoon to take her to his bed.
Lit by soft lamps, his suite was just as fancy as hers—only with a much more masculine feel. Strong scarlets and deep golds dominated the high-ceilinged room and on an inlaid desk she noticed a golden pen, studded with diamonds. A collection of horse paintings took up an entire wall and one in particular caught her eye—a black stallion with yellow flowers looped around its glistening neck, as it stood against a sunset backdrop of the stark desert. Xan didn’t say anything until the heavy door had closed behind them and as he drew her into the powerful warmth of his body, Tamsyn felt her heart thunder.
‘Now,’ he said softly, tilting her face upwards. ‘Where were we?
For once in her life she had no smart answer. All her usual flippancy drained away from her as Tamsyn stared into the Greek’s rugged features and her heart gave a great punch of delight. Yet she didn’t have a clue how best to respond to him. Would he be horrified if he knew what a novice she was and should she tell him?
Did it matter?
She swallowed.
Why should it matter—and why should she tell him? She couldn’t be the only virgin in the history of the world and there was no shame to it—even though sometimes you were made to feel like a freak just because you’d reached the grand old age of twenty-two without ever having had sex. But then, she’d never responded to a man like this before, because no man had ever made her feel like this. And was it such a crime to want to capitalise on it? To feel like a normal woman for once, instead of someone who was made of ice from the neck down?
She tried to remember what he’d just asked her. Some flirty question about what they had just been doing and that certainly wasn’t something she would be forgetting in a hurry. ‘You were kissing me,’ she reminded him softly.
He gave a slow smile. ‘So I was,’ he agreed, framing her face between his palms and looking at her for a long moment before lowering his mouth to hers, exploring her lips with a thoroughness which left her reeling.
Against the jewelled bodice of her gown Tamsyn could feel her breasts growing heavy as he reached down to whisper his thumb over her peaking nipple, lazily circling it in a way which made her moan with pleasure. She pressed her lips against his neck, feeling the rapid beat of a pulse there. As his hand began to sweep luxuriously down over her satin-covered belly, she felt another great clench of her sex and she shivered. Did he sense that already she wanted to explode with pleasure? Was that why he moved his head back to survey the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
‘I think we need to get on the bed,’ he said unevenly.
Tamsyn wasn’t known for her compliancy and when people ‘suggested’ something, her natural instinct was to rebel. But she found herself nodding at him like some eager little puppy. ‘Okay,’ she whispered, tightening her grip around his neck like the clinging tendrils of a vine. ‘Let’s.’
Xan felt his erection pushing almost violently against his trousers and silently he cursed, because the effect she was having on him was undeniably...urgent. She made him feel about fifteen years old instead of thirty-three, and while he was in such a high state of arousal it made more sense to keep movement to a minimum. So why not push her to the floor and do it to her right there, on the silken rug? It would be fast and a little bit dirty but he could rid himself of this fierce hunger which was running through his veins like a fever. His mouth hardened because that might be the perfect solution—a quick coupling to alleviate their mutual frustration and allow them to discreetly go their separate ways soon afterwards?
But something about the way she was responding to him was making such an action seem almost unsavoury. She was holding onto him as trustingly as a tiny kitten—leaving him with little choice other than to carry her across the room in a macho display which wasn’t really his style. He was taken aback by how shockingly primitive the gesture made him feel as another spear of lust shafted through him.
Bemusement filled him as he set her down beside the brocade-covered divan, because Tamsyn Wilson wasn’t turning out to be what he’d expected. In fact, none of this was what he’d expected. She was confounding him with mixed messages. The street-wise minx was behaving in a way which was almost naïve. He’d imagined that someone so sassy and sexy would by now be unzipping him, before taking him boldly in her hand, or her mouth—because that seemed to be the current trend for first time sex. The cynic in him often wondered if this was the moment when women attempted to showcase their sexual skills in as short a time as possible—rather like a job applicant deftly running through their entire resume on a first interview. But not Tamsyn. She seemed more concerned with removing those ostentatious diamond earrings and finding a low table beside the bed on which to safely put them, quickly followed by the glittering diamond choker. And while she was turning round to do that, he moved behind her, lifting the thick curtain of her curls to drift his lips over her neck. He felt her tremble then slump against him and she wondered if she could feel his hardness pressing into her bottom.
‘I want you,’ he said, very deliberately, as he turned her round to face him.
‘D-do you?’ she said, her voice barely a whisper.
How did she manage to sound so convincingly shy, he wondered? Pulling a couple of clips from her hair, he unzipped her gown so that it slithered to the ground in a pool of glittering silk and net and she was left standing in nothing but her bra and panties. He felt another kick of desire. Her legs were bare and he bent before her to remove one silver shoe, quickly followed by another, but when he stood up again he was taken aback by how tiny she seemed without the towering heels.
Shrugging off his jacket and yanking off his tie, he let them fall to join her discarded dress. ‘Unbutton my shirt,’ he growled.
Tamsyn’s fingers were trembling as she lifted them to Xan’s chest, because for all her bravado she’d never seen a man naked and she’d certainly never undressed anyone before. Yet her instinctive fear was banished by that first sweet touch of the skin which sheathed his hard muscle and she heard him groan as the buttons flew open. Now what, she wondered, as she gazed at his bare chest—too daunted to think about attacking the zip of his trousers.
Did he sense her sudden nervousness? Was that why he gave another slow smile and unclipped her front-fastening bra so that her breasts spilled into his waiting palms and suddenly her nerves were all but forgotten? She writhed as his thumbs circled her nipples and her excitement grew as he moved his hand down between her thighs. Pushing aside the damp, stretched panel at her crotch, he found her slick heat, sliding his finger against the engorged bud with practised ease. And this was heaven. Her hips were circling of their own accord and she was moaning now and the part of her brain which was urging her to be careful, was abruptly silenced by the most powerful desire s
he could ever have imagined.
‘Xan...’ she breathed, looking up to meet the smoky lust which had narrowed his eyes.
‘You are just as hot as I thought you’d be,’ he declared unevenly.
She should have said something then, but she couldn’t even think of the words—let alone form a sentence with them—not when he was laying her down on the bed and pulling off the rest of his clothes with unsteady hands. And then he was naked—his body warm and strong as he lay down beside her. His hungry kiss was fuelling this wild new hunger which was spiralling up inside her and suddenly Tamsyn was on fire. His lips were on her breasts and her belly—tantalising her until she thought she would go out of her mind. And when he guided her hand to his groin, there was no shyness as she encountered the hard ridge of his erection. Instead, she felt nothing but joy as she began to whisper her fingertips against it. But he shook his head as he reached for something on the nightstand and she heard the little tear of foil and realised he must be sheathing himself.
This was it. The moment she’d never thought she’d reach because she had always been unresponsive and afraid. But she wasn’t afraid now as he moved over her and spread her legs apart. Not even when she felt that brief burst of pain and momentarily, he stilled. Instinct told her to angle her hips and to propel them forward so that he slid inside her completely—and once her body had grown accustomed to his width—those incredible sensations of pleasure were back. And how. She cried out with it so that he stilled once again and his words came out clipped, like bullets.
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