Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge

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Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge Page 12

by Chantelle Shaw


  Her heart thudded as his eyes swept over her.

  ‘You look beautiful.’ His voice was as deep and sensuous as crushed velvet, and her senses flared as she caught the drift of his cologne when he strolled over to her. ‘I bought this for you to wear tonight.’

  Tahlia caught her breath when he held up a large peardrop-shaped amethyst, surrounded by diamonds and suspended on a fine white-gold chain. Before she had time to argue Thanos fastened the pendant around her neck and stood back to admire the sight of the violet-coloured gem sitting in the V between her creamy breasts.

  ‘Perfect,’ he murmured, his eyes gleaming with feral hunger as he traced his finger over the pendant and then slipped it lower and settled it between her breasts. ‘It matches the colour of your dress exactly. But whenever I look at you this evening I will be imagining you wearing nothing but the necklace,’ he added thickly.

  The pendant felt heavy on Tahlia’s skin, and she was tempted to tear it off. She felt as though he had branded her—as if every time he looked at her he would be reminded that he had paid for her.

  ‘You think you can buy everything, don’t you?’ she snapped. ‘You have so little understanding of the value of money that the cost of a valuable piece of jewellery is irrelevant to you. I suppose that’s what comes of being born into wealth,’ she finished scathingly.

  Thanos’s face had darkened at her outburst, and now he gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I wasn’t born into wealth,’ he said harshly. ‘There was no grand mansion house in my family to pass down through generations. I didn’t enjoy a privileged childhood or have the advantage of a private education. I was born on a small island called Agistri, and I grew up in a tiny stone-built house with no running water,’ he explained flatly. ‘As a youth I assumed that I would spend my life as a goat-herd. I had no expectations of ever moving away from the island where my family had lived for generations.’

  ‘What made you decide to leave?’ Tahlia asked, stunned by his revelation that he had not inherited his vast fortune.

  ‘An English woman called Wendy Jones.’ Thanos could not disguise the bitterness in his voice. ‘She was my father’s mistress—and after he walked out on his family and divorced my mother she subsequently became his new wife. Wendy had already been married and divorced twice when she bought a villa on Agistri. She employed my father to carry out renovation work on her house, but it soon became apparent that she wanted him for more than his building skills. A few months after he began working for her he dropped the bombshell to my mother that their marriage was over.

  He continued harshly, ‘My mother was distraught, especially when my father stopped all financial support. I was fifteen, and Melina was just three years old. I dropped out of school, lied about my age, and managed to pick up some labouring work, using the skills my father had taught me. My mother wept about the disruption to my education, but I had no choice—I couldn’t allow her and my sister to starve, and my father was too besotted with his tart to spare a thought for his wife and children. I lost all the respect I had felt for my father,’ Thanos said savagely. ‘He made a complete fool of himself. Wendy flirted with him outrageously. She knew he was married, but that little fact didn’t seem to matter to her. She’d decided that she wanted him for herself and she deliberately pursued him, uncaring that she had ripped my family apart—’

  He broke off abruptly, and in the tense silence Tahlia could feel his barely leashed anger. No wonder Thanos had been so ready to believe that she had stolen James Hamilton from his sister, she brooded. His family had been blown apart by his father’s mistress. It must have seemed as though history was repeating itself when his sister had discovered that her husband was having an affair.

  ‘I never spoke to my father after he married again,’ he continued grimly. ‘Eighteen months after the wedding he was killed in a horrific accident. Wendy had insisted on having a swimming pool, and he was crushed when the mechanical digger he was driving overturned.’ He ignored Tahlia’s shocked gasp and continued. ‘My father had not made a will, and everything he owned—namely the house where my mother, Melina and I still lived—passed to his wife. Within a week of his funeral Wendy demanded that we leave her property. It was the final blow to my mother, to be evicted from the home where she had lived for her entire married life by my father’s whore. She died of pneumonia six months later, leaving me to care for Melina, who was then just five years old.’

  Tahlia tried to imagine Thanos at seventeen—a boy who overnight had had to become a man and take responsibility for his young sister while he was grieving for both his parents. ‘You must feel very protective of Melina,’ she murmured.

  He turned his head and stared at her, his dark eyes blazing. ‘I would give my life for her,’ he vowed fiercely. ‘I promised my mother as she lay dying that I would always take care of Melina. When I first saw her after the accident and I was told she had less than a fifty percent chance of surviving…’ His throat moved convulsively. ‘I was haunted by the knowledge that I had failed to protect her.’

  Tahlia was shocked by the raw emotion in his eyes. There was no doubt that Thanos adored his sister, and she realised that far from being the hard, ruthless man she had once believed his feelings ran deep. If he ever fell in love he would give his heart utterly, she brooded, aware of a faint tug of envy for the woman who might one day win his devotion.

  He had fallen silent, seemingly lost in his thoughts, but after a moment he picked up her stole and placed it around her shoulders. ‘Are you ready to leave?’

  When she nodded, he escorted her out of the suite. To her surprise the lift carried them upwards, and when the doors opened she stepped out onto the roof of the hotel where a helicopter was waiting.

  ‘The chopper is the quickest way to travel between the islands,’ he explained as he assisted her into the cockpit. ‘I’ve held a private pilot’s licence for ten years. You’ll be quite safe.’

  Tahlia had always been nervous in the air, but as they took off she had no qualms about Thanos’s ability to fly the chopper. Was there nothing this man could not do? she wondered as she watched him manoeuvre the joystick and the helicopter responded smoothly to his control. She glanced out of the window and watched the streaks of pink and gold which flared from a fiery sun as it slipped below the horizon.

  Twenty minutes later they landed on the lawn in front of a huge white-walled villa and were escorted inside by a uniformed member of staff.

  There was serious money here, Tahlia mused, glancing around at the stunning array of diamonds and designer gowns worn by the predominantly young and blonde women who were being paraded on the arms of their significantly older male companions. Fortunately she was practised in the art of making small-talk with people she had never met before—or was likely to meet again, and she moved around the room with Thanos, sipping champagne and forcing herself to smile until her jaw ached.

  She was aware of the envious glances she received from other women, the thinly veiled speculation in their eyes that she would not remain his mistress for long. Thanos Savakis’s relationships were notoriously short-lived, but tonight he only had eyes for her, and he kept his arm around her waist, as if he shared her reluctance for them to be apart for even a moment—although that was surely just wishful thinking, Tahlia told herself firmly.

  He dominated her mind: a tall, dark and brooding presence at her side. A man who, in a few hours, would take her to bed and make love to her until he had sated his hunger for her. She would not offer any resistance, she thought wearily as his eyes fused with hers and the flare of heat in their depths sent a jolt of awareness down her spine. He had taken her innocence and awoken her sensuality, and she could not deny the desire that he alone aroused in her.

  ‘Dance with me.’ His eyes seemed to scorch her soul, and without waiting for her to reply he drew her onto the dance floor and into his arms.

  He swamped her senses, the warmth of his body and the sensual musk of his cologne drifting around her so that she rela
xed against him and rested her head on his chest, the ache inside her soothed by the steady beat of his heart. When he lowered his head and claimed her mouth she parted her lips and kissed him back with a fervency that caused him to tighten his hold and pull her closer, so that she could feel the throbbing force of his arousal press impatiently into her pelvis.

  At last he lifted his mouth from hers and stared down at her quizzically. ‘Ready to go?’ he queried softly.

  The champagne was flooding through her veins, sweeping away her doubts and inhibitions and leaving her weak and boneless and the slow drumbeat of desire was thudding irresistibly deep inside her.

  ‘Yes.’

  His eyes darkened, his mouth twisting in a self-derisive grimace as he slid his hand down to her bottom and pulled her up hard against the swollen shaft straining beneath his trousers. ‘You are like a fever in my blood, agape,’ he muttered thickly. ‘I am burning up with wanting you.’

  The short flight back to Mykonos seemed interminable. The silence grew ever more intense as the lift carried them down a floor to Thanos’s suite. The moment they stepped through the door Thanos swept her into his arms and strode into the master bedroom, the purpose in his eyes causing anticipation to coil low in Tahlia’s stomach.

  She helped him remove her clothes and then his, her heart thudding as she ran her hands through the mass of wiry black hairs that covered his chest and felt the erratic beat of his life-force beneath her fingertips. The solid length of his arousal pushed insistently against her thigh, and she felt the familiar melting warmth between her legs as her body grew impatient for him. She wanted him so desperately that her limbs trembled, and when she tentatively stroked her fingers along his swollen shaft and heard his swiftly indrawn breath she expected him to lift her onto the bed, to possess her with the same raw passion of their previous encounters.

  Instead he stroked his hands through her hair, before trailing his fingertips in a butterfly caress along her collarbone and then down to cup her breasts in his palms. His slow smile told her that he understood her impatience, but his movements were unhurried as his mouth claimed hers in a deep, drugging kiss that seared her soul.

  It was just good sex, she reminded herself. It meant nothing to him, and she would be a fool to open her heart to him. But when he sank down onto the bed and lifted her over him, guiding her gently down so that she absorbed the full strength of his erection, she looked into his dark eyes and acknowledged on a wave of sheer panic that her heart was in serious danger.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE prickling sensation on Tahlia’s shoulders warned her that she would be wise to move out of the sun. It was almost four p.m., she noted, her stomach tightening as she glanced at her watch. Soon Thanos would come back to the suite, and she would go inside, to the cool, shaded bedroom, where he would make love to her as he had done every day of the past week since they had arrived on Mykonos.

  She moved her sunbed beneath the parasol and picked up her book—the third paperback novel she’d read this week—but she could not concentrate on the story, and after a few moments she set it down again, looking towards the French doors. Her heart-rate accelerated when she discovered that he had stepped onto the terrace and was watching her, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses. He dipped his head in silent greeting before walking back inside, and, like a puppet controlled by invisible strings, she stood up and followed him.

  When she reached the master bedroom she found him naked, stretched out on the silk sheets like a sultan waiting for his favourite concubine. That was all she was to him, she reminded herself despairingly. But he had treated her with respect and consideration since he had made her his mistress, and day by day she had fallen deeper under his spell.

  It was ridiculous to still feel shy when he had explored every inch of her body with his hands and mouth, but she could not bring herself to strip off her bikini, and stood watching him, her eyes unconsciously wary, until he held out his hand and murmured, ‘Come here,’ in the deep, velvet-soft voice that sent a quiver of longing down her spine.

  In the sensual feast that followed he aroused her to a fever-pitch of desire, peeling her bikini from her breasts and hips and probing the moist heat of her femininity with his tongue before he moved over her and possessed her with fierce, powerful thrusts that drove them both to the ecstasy of simultaneous release. Afterwards she lay limply beside him, knowing that he would soon stroll into the shower, before dressing and returning to another of his interminable meetings. But to her surprise he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her.

  ‘So, what did you do today?’

  She shrugged, puzzled by his unexpected interest. ‘Sat in the sun before it got too hot, swam, read a book—the same as I’ve done every day,’ she added, unable to disguise the faint note of frustration in her voice.’

  Thanos’s eyes narrowed. ‘You could go shopping. There are some excellent designer boutiques in the town, and I’ve told you to use the money I left for you.’

  ‘And I’ve told you I don’t want your money,’ Tahlia said fiercely. ‘Besides, you’ve already provided me with more than enough clothes. I don’t need to go shopping.’

  ‘Most women I know do not shop out of necessity,’ Thanos murmured dryly.

  ‘Well, clearly I’m different to your other women.’

  Tahlia’s tart comment filled Thanos with a mixture of amusement and frustration. He had made love to her every night—and most afternoons—he acknowledged wryly, and he knew every secret dip and curve of her body. But her mind remained stubbornly closed to him. He was no nearer to understanding what made Tahlia Reynolds tick than he had been a week ago.

  He trailed his hand lazily down her body, feeling a spurt of triumph at the sharp catch of her breath as he pushed her legs apart. ‘If you are bored, I will have to spend more time…entertaining you,’ he drawled.

  ‘It’s not possible to have sex any more times than we do already,’ she said ruefully. ‘But if I spend many more hours sunbathing I’ll turn into a crisp.’ She pushed her hair out of her eyes and continued hurriedly, ‘Isn’t there any office work I could do? Filing, admin…? I don’t care what it is, as long as I have something to do. I’m a working girl,’ she told him seriously. ‘I’m not used to sitting around all day doing nothing.’

  Tahlia was so very different from the woman he had believed her to be when he had blamed her for his sister’s accident, Thanos acknowledged. During the tense hours he’d spent waiting for Melina to regain consciousness his image of Tahlia had fused with his memories of his father’s English mistress, and his hatred of her had grown as intense as the hatred he felt towards the woman who had destroyed his family. But over the past week he had discovered that Tahlia was nothing like the callous, cold-hearted woman his father had married. True, she possessed an unexpectedly fiery temper beneath her gentle exterior, but she was unfailingly polite towards his staff, instinctively kind, and the most generous lover he had ever known.

  He had not expected to like her, he conceded, but to his surprise he had found himself thinking about her when his mind should have been concentrating on profit margins, and for the first time in his life he resented the hours he spent in the office because he would rather have been with her.

  He got up from the bed, retrieved his clothes from the floor where he had carelessly discarded them, and paused on his way to the en suite bathroom to look back at her. The sunlight filtering through the blinds turned her hair to pure gold, falling in a silken sheet around her shoulders, and her skin was still flushed from the passion they had just shared. He must be mad to be considering working with her when she was such a serious distraction to his thought process, he thought wryly, but his logical brain insisted that she could be extremely useful to him.

  ‘I’ve a meeting scheduled for the next hour. Come to my office after that and we’ll discuss an idea I’ve had which I’m certain will alleviate your boredom,’ he murmured, smiling at her look of surprise and striding
on into the bathroom before she could question him.

  Thanos was standing by a window which afforded a spectacular view of the sea when Tahlia entered his office. ‘Take a seat,’ he invited, the warmth of his smile doing strange things to her insides.

  She quickly sat down in the chair in front of his desk, her eyes drawn to his hard profile, and her composure wavered as she studied his chiselled features, the slashing line of his cheekbone and his square chin. An hour ago, that sensual mouth had traced every inch of her body and lingered in her most secret places to wreak havoc. The memory caused liquid heat to flood through her veins, and she knew from the sudden flare of heat in his eyes that he had read her mind.

  ‘You said you have an idea?’ she said hastily, aware that she was blushing.

  ‘I have several,’ Thanos assured her throatily, conscious of the familiar tug of desire in his groin as he studied her. She had changed into an elegant cream linen skirt and a white blouse, and looked as chaste as a nun, with her hair drawn back from her face in a neat chignon. But somehow her wholesome, fresh-faced appearance was incredibly sexy. His eyes lingered on her lips, coated in a pale pink gloss, and his heart-rate quickened.

  He ruthlessly suppressed the hunger that gnawed in his gut and picked up the folder on his desk. ‘However, I think we had better concentrate on the idea I asked you here to discuss. The Artemis is due to open in three weeks’ time,’ he said abruptly.

  Tahlia nodded. ‘I’m sure it will be a great success,’ she murmured, not sure what the opening date of his new hotel had to do with her.

  ‘I hope so. We’re fully booked for the whole of the summer, but it’s vital we make an excellent first impression. To that end I have invited tour operators and travel writers to come and enjoy all that the Artemis has to offer, in the hope that they will give a glowing report. If they don’t, many of those bookings could be cancelled,’ Thanos added tersely. ‘I hired a PR company to organise a party for the opening night. Three hundred guests have been invited, including several world-renowned celebrities. I learned yesterday that the PR company has failed to fulfil its promise that the party will be the most spectacular event ever held on Mykonos. In fact I seriously doubt they could organise a kindergarten party,’ he added, his irritation palpable. ‘And so this morning I fired them.’

 

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