Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge

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Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge Page 7

by Chantelle Shaw

Tahlia’s tone warned Thanos that she did not want to continue the conversation, and he was suddenly impatient to leave. He did not want to hear that she had suffered a tragedy in her past. For the past six months he had envisaged her as a cold-hearted bitch, and he refused to contemplate any possibility that he might have been wrong.

  ‘I hope you’re not planning to try and smuggle that cat through Customs?’ he said tersely as they walked out to the car.

  ‘Of course not. Hobson is going to look after him. He used to be my parents’ butler, but he’s semi-retired now, and lives in an annexe of Carlton House,’ Tahlia explained. ‘We’ll have to take Charlie over to him.’

  ‘Is the house on the way to Gatwick?’

  ‘The opposite direction, I’m afraid. But I can’t leave Charlie to fend for himself. I guess it’s a case of love me, love my cat,’ she quipped, as Thanos deposited the cat carrier on the back seat and opened the front passenger door for her.

  ‘Hell will freeze over before I do either,’ Thanos said violently.

  He fired the ignition and pulled away from the kerb, but his scathing comment hung in the air between them, and Tahlia quickly turned her head and stared out of the window, wondering why her eyes were stinging with stupid tears. Thanos could not make it plainer that he hated her, but she was shocked at how much his contempt hurt.

  She said nothing more, apart from giving him directions to Carlton House, and only glanced at him when he drove through the gates and gave a low whistle.

  ‘I see why your parents are so keen to hang on to the house,’ he said dryly, as he stared up at the ivy-covered walls and the three storeys of mullioned windows glinting in the sunlight. ‘It’s spectacular.’

  ‘For many generations it was passed down to the oldest son of the family, but my mother was an only child so she inherited it,’ Tahlia explained. ‘It’s a Grade I listed building, and to be honest the cost of its upkeep is a nightmare. My parents do their best to maintain it, even though it’s a drain on their resources, and Mum is very proud of her heritage. She loves Carlton House. It would break her heart to leave it—’

  She broke off, blushing at the knowledge that she had agreed to become Thanos’s mistress to keep Carlton House safe. The front door of the house suddenly swung open, and an elderly, impeccably dressed man walked slowly down the front steps.

  ‘Who is that?’

  ‘That’s Hobson.’

  Thanos frowned. ‘He can’t still work for your parents, surely? He must be ninety.’

  ‘We think he’s in his late seventies, although he won’t actually admit his true age,’ Tahlia explained as she climbed out of the car and took the cat-carrier from the back seat. ‘He started working here as a butler for my grandparents; my parents feel that Carlton is as much his house as it is theirs. My father has promised Hobson that he will always have a home here.’ Her smile faded as the implication of her words struck her. If Carlton was repossessed, where would Hobson go? He had no family, and he would be as distraught as her parents if he had to leave the house that had been his home for fifty years.

  It wasn’t going to happen, she reassured herself as she walked up the drive to greet the butler. Thanos had promised to buy Reynolds Gems, Carlton would be safe, and she would take the secret that she had sold herself to him to her grave.

  ‘I was wondering how you had booked me onto a flight at such short notice,’ Tahlia murmured an hour later, as she followed Thanos across the tarmac at Gatwick airport. ‘I suppose I should have guessed you own a plane.’

  ‘I travel extensively for my business, and the Lear jet is more convenient than relying on scheduled flights,’ he replied, his eyes narrowing on her faintly stunned expression as she followed him onto the plane. His lip curled into a sardonic grimace as he watched her glance around at the plush leather seats. Women were always impressed by the jet, and several of his ex-lovers had been eager to join the mile-high club. He could spend the flight to Greece enjoying Tahlia’s gorgeous body in the luxurious bedroom at the far end of the plane—she was hardly likely to object, he mused cynically. She had made it clear she would do whatever pleased him in return for him shelling out a lot of money for Reynolds Gems.

  He could not deny he was tempted, he thought irritably, and he skimmed his eyes over her, from her silky red-gold hair—worn loose today, and falling in a smooth sheet down her back—to her elegant cream skirt and jacket teamed with a sapphire-coloured blouse which matched the startling blue of her eyes, finally to her shapely legs sheathed in fine hose, their slender length emphasised by her three-inch stiletto heels. She looked cool and classy, and he felt a violent urge to lower his head and kiss her until her lips were no longer coated in a pale gloss but were red and swollen, as she parted them invitingly beneath his, as she had done in his hotel suite the previous night. Beneath her haughty façade this aristocratic English rose was hot, and she had already shown her willingness to explore the sexual chemistry that simmered between them. But he wanted to enjoy her at his leisure. He would have to curb his impatience until they reached Greece.

  Four hours later, Tahlia stared out of the window as the plane swooped low over a cobalt-blue sea sparkling beneath a cloudless sky, dotted with several emerald islands. ‘I hadn’t expected the land to be so green,’ she murmured, her spirits lifting as she absorbed the spectacular view of the Cyclades Islands.

  ‘That’s Mykonos just ahead of us.’ Thanos’s deep voice sounded close to her ear, and she jerked her head around to find that he had closed his laptop, which he had been working on for the entire flight. ‘The smaller island closest to it is Delos. It is uninhabited, but it’s one of the most important archaeological sites in Greece, and is believed in Greek mythology to be the birthplace of the goddess Artemis—hence the name of my new hotel,’ he added with a faint smile.

  Tahlia’s eyes were drawn to the sensual curve of his mouth and her heart flipped. She had been agonisingly conscious of him during the flight, but as soon as the jet had taken off he had become absorbed in his work and not spared her a word or glance. He had not brought her to Greece for her conversational skills, she reminded herself heavily. Her sole duty for the next month was to please him in bed—but considering her lack of experience in that department she feared he was going to be disappointed.

  The Artemis Hotel was situated a few kilometres from Mykonos Town, at the charming beach resort of Agios Ioannis. The vast white-walled, flat-roofed building was impressive, and the reception area no less so, with its pale marble floors and pillars teamed with beautiful leather sofas and chairs in muted shades of blue and grey.

  ‘The whole place is stunning,’ Tahlia commented when Thanos had given her a lightning tour of the four dining rooms, six bars and the spa and leisure complex.

  ‘I’m pleased with it,’ he replied as he led the way along a velvet-carpeted corridor. The walls were hung with numerous works of art, many of them contemporary pieces, and Tahlia wondered if Thanos had bought any of Rufus Hartman’s paintings from the art exhibition where they had first met. She grimaced. Was it really only a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime.

  ‘This is my private suite,’ he explained as he halted at the end of the corridor and flung open a door.

  Tahlia followed him into an airy sitting room, her heart suddenly beating too fast as she glanced through a door to her right and glimpsed a king-sized bed. She wondered if Thanos expected her to begin her duties as his mistress immediately, but he had walked over to the long wall of windows and opened the French doors leading to the terrace. She followed him, and caught her breath at the uninterrupted view of the crystalline sea and an aquamarine swimming pool below them.

  ‘The suite has its own pool,’ he explained, indicating the rectangular pool to one side of the terrace. ‘The main pool you can see below us is actually a salt-water pool, separated from the sea by a terraced area where guests can sunbathe and enjoy the view of the bay.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Tahlia murmured as she stared down at
the hotel’s pool, which had been cleverly designed so that it appeared to spill into the sea beyond. She lifted her face to the sun, her hair rippling in the warm Aegean breeze.

  Thanos resisted the urge to wind the silky strands around his hand, pull her in and capture her mouth in a hungry kiss that he knew instinctively could only end when he swept her into his arms and carried her through to the bedroom. She unsettled him more than he cared to admit, and he found his reaction to her intensely irritating. Even forcing himself to think of Melina—now staying at a rehabilitation clinic in the US, where she was slowly learning to walk again—did not diminish his awareness of the woman at his side.

  Had his father struggled to control his attraction to the English tart Wendy Jones, who had become his mistress? he brooded. For the first time in his life he understood the guilt associated with wanting a woman when it was morally wrong to desire her.

  He swung round abruptly and walked back across the terrace. ‘You have the rest of the day to enjoy the view. I have a meeting scheduled with my management team, which I imagine will last for several hours.’

  Tahlia frowned, unsure of exactly what her role in his life was to be. ‘What do you expect me to do while you’re gone?’ she asked as she followed him back inside.

  He shrugged dismissively. ‘Whatever you like. You can swim, or read—all the rooms at the Artemis have a selection of current magazines. And of course you will need to prepare for tonight.’

  Tahlia’s mouth suddenly felt dry at the prospect of the night ahead. In what way did he expect her to prepare? Did the Artemis also leave copies of the Kama Sutra in the rooms, for guests to flick through? she wondered, panic churning in the pit of her stomach.

  Thanos’s eyes narrowed on the hectic flush staining her cheeks. ‘Tonight we’re dining with the mayor of Mykonos and other council dignitaries. You’ll need to dress up.’ He gave her a mocking smile. ‘Wear something sexy, hmm…? After all, the sole reason you are here is to please me.’ He gathered up his briefcase, but instead of heading for the door he walked towards her, his mouth curving into an amused smile that was not reflected in his cold eyes. ‘You can start by pleasing me now,’ he said coolly, and he cupped her chin in his hand and bent his head, bringing his mouth down on hers before she had a chance to pull away.

  The kiss was hard, almost brutal, a statement of possession and a warning of intent that tonight he would demand so much more. Tahlia wanted to deny him, wanted to firm her lips against his probing tongue, but to her shame the moment he touched her she was lost, swept up in the fire that consumed them both. She had been acutely aware of him ever since he had picked her up from her flat that morning, and now her senses were set alight by the scent of his cologne and another, totally masculine scent that belonged to this man alone.

  He caught her despairing sigh and ruthlessly took advantage of her parted lips to thrust his tongue between them, exploring the moist warmth of her mouth until she was boneless and clung to him, sliding her hands to his shoulders and running her fingers through the thick dark hair that curled at his nape.

  He was breathing hard when he finally released her, and Tahlia took a tiny shard of comfort in the fact that he could not hide the evidence that he was affected by the wild passion they shared.

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ he said tersely, stepping away from her, but she had the impression that his control was balanced on a knife-edge, and that if she gave any indication that she wanted him to stay he would seize her in his arms once more and kiss her until kissing was not enough for either of them.

  She remained silent, shocked and ashamed by her reaction to him, and with a curt nod he strode from the room. Only then did she release her breath. It was crazy and utterly inexplicable, she thought shakily as she held her fingers against her swollen mouth. Thanos believed he had good reason to despise her, and she was well aware that his one aim was to punish her. Yet neither of them, it seemed, could control the wildfire sexual attraction which blazed between them.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THERE was no sign of Tahlia when Thanos walked into his private suite that evening, but it was late, and he assumed that she was getting changed for dinner. His meeting had overrun by several long and frustrating hours, and the discovery that preparations for the party to celebrate the official opening of the Artemis were way behind schedule had put him in a foul mood. He needed to have been in Greece these past few months, to oversee the completion of the new hotel, but thanks to Tahlia and his sleazeball ex-brother-in-law he had been at Melina’s hospital bedside in the States instead of running his company.

  He crossed to the bar and poured himself a large Scotch, added ice to the glass and took a long sip as he strolled onto the terrace. Dusk had fallen, painting the sky in hues of purple and indigo, and the first stars glimmered as brightly as the lights of the tavernas and hotels that delineated the coast. But the peaceful scene did nothing to lift his mood, and when a faint noise from behind him alerted him to Tahlia’s presence he swung round, his brows lowering in a slashing frown as he studied her.

  ‘What made you think that dressing like a nun would please me?’ he queried, in a dangerously soft tone. He noted her mutinous expression and his mouth curled into a hard smile. ‘Or did you deliberately choose your most unattractive outfit to flout me?’

  His guess was not too far from the truth, and Tahlia blushed. At the same time she felt a spurt of annoyance at his description of her as unattractive. It was true her faithful black skirt was years old and unfashionably long, and her cream silk-organza blouse with its high neck and a row of tiny pearl buttons running down the front could in no way be called sexy. But she had swept her hair up into an elegant chignon and taken care with her make-up. She didn’t think she looked a complete frump. Thanos, however, clearly held a different opinion.

  ‘I’m not taking you to dinner when you look like my maiden aunt,’ he said tersely. ‘Go and get changed while I shower, and be ready to leave in fifteen minutes.’ His brows rose when she did not move. ‘Of course I could always strip you myself—but if that happens I can guarantee we will miss dinner altogether.’

  Tahlia flushed at the hungry gleam in his eyes. ‘You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t own me,’ she said angrily, frantically trying to banish the image of Thanos removing her clothes and then his, and the even more shocking idea of them showering together.

  His mocking smile told her he had read her mind, and her insides squirmed in embarrassment. ‘For the next month I can do exactly what I like with you,’ he warned her, in a voice laced with such blatant sexual intent that a shiver ran the length of her spine. His patience suddenly evaporated, and he caught hold of her hand and marched her across the lounge to the bedroom. ‘I’ll find you something suitable to wear,’ he growled, but his frown deepened when he flung open the wardrobe and flicked through the few outfits she had brought with her.

  ‘Why did you bring so little with you when you knew you were coming to Greece for a month?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Or did you hope I would grow bored of you sooner?’ He reached out and tugged the clip from her carefully arranged chignon, so that her hair tumbled around her shoulders. The sultry gleam in his dark gaze sent a tremor through Tahlia’s body as stark awareness uncoiled in the pit of her stomach. ‘If so, then I fear you will be disappointed,’ he murmured, lowering his head so that his breath fanned her lips. ‘The sexual chemistry between us is at combustion point, my beautiful English rose, and I am seriously beginning to doubt that one month will satisfy my desire for you.’

  His mouth was so close to hers that Tahlia shut her eyes, certain that he was about to kiss her. The exotic scent of his cologne swamped her senses, and there was no thought in her head to resist him. But to her shock he suddenly moved away from her. Startled, she let her lashes fly open, and she found that she was standing with her mouth still parted in readiness for his kiss. The sound of his soft, mocking laughter filled her with mortification at the shameful sense of longing that he wou
ld snatch her into his arms and ravage her mouth with primitive passion.

  Thanos closed the wardrobe with a decisive snap. ‘There is nothing in there that excites me,’ he said bluntly. ‘You will have to stay as you are tonight, but tomorrow you will go shopping. We’ll be attending many social events while we are here and you’ll need several evening dresses, as well as daywear.’

  Tahlia thought of her latest credit card bill, which she had no means of paying off, and shook her head. ‘I can’t afford to buy new clothes,’ she admitted wearily, her temper flaring at Thanos’s sardonic expression. He believed she led the life of a pampered princess, but nothing could be further from the truth. ‘The clothes I’ve brought with me are all that I own. My father hasn’t been able to pay my salary for the last three months. Every penny went into keeping Reynolds Gems solvent. I worked for nothing in the desperate hope that we could save the company,’ she explained when he looked disbelieving. ‘I sold most of my clothes, and my jewellery, but I didn’t make enough to cover my bills and living expenses. I’m struggling to cover even the minimum payment on my credit cards, and a shopping spree is out of the question. You’ll just have to take me as I am,’ she finished defiantly, and then blushed scarlet as she realised what she had said.

  ‘I am very much looking forward to taking you, Tahlia,’ Thanos assured her gravely, the glinting amusement in his eyes masking his shock at her assertion that her life in London had not been one of luxury and over-indulgence, as he had assumed.

  Of course she could be lying, he mused. Experience had taught him that most women were accomplished liars—none more so than Yalena, when she had been sleeping with one of his closest friends at the same time as swearing her love for him. But his gut instinct told him that Tahlia was telling the truth about her financial situation. No wonder she had agreed to be his mistress in return for him buying her father’s company, he thought cynically. He knew from the numerous photos of her in the press that she liked to dress in haute couture. No doubt she would spend her share of the proceeds of the sale of Reynolds Gems on restocking her wardrobe.

 

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