She was saved by the arrival of a stunning blonde stewardess.
'Congratulations, Mr Statis. I never thought I'd see the day.'
Alex's attention was immediately on the tall blonde. 'Thank you, Eve; I didn't know you were back.'
Saffron watched his easy, familiar smile and the blonde's response, her heart freezing at the coincidence. Another Eve, but this one alive and well and obviously very well acquainted with Alex. It highlighted so poignantly her worst fear. She could not go ahead with the marriage and forget about her friend, burying her head in the sand like an ostrich, because there would always be something or someone, perhaps simply a name, to remind her of Alex's involvement in her friend's destruction. She could not live her life on a lie. She sipped the champagne provided and if she was quiet Alex did not seem to notice.
The light was fading when they arrived at the small exclusive hotel in Paris. I hope you don't mind, Saffron, but I've spent so much time away from work chasing you that I can only afford three days before I have to be back in the office. But don't worry, I'll make it up to you later.' Alex gave her hand a squeeze as they were shown to their suite. 'In a few months we'll take a long honeymoon cruising the Med or the West Indies, whatever you like.'
What she would have liked was to be anywhere in the world but here, she thought sadly, her gaze flickering around the room, barely taking in the opulent surroundings but studiously avoiding looking at Alex. She had not the slightest idea what she was going to do. In the taxi she had run through a dozen scenarios from going ahead with the marriage, telling Alex the truth, to faking a serious illness.
Her eyes alighted on a table set beside the lusciously draped window. A massive arrangement of red roses was the centrepiece, and there were two place-settings, the finest crystal glasses and champagne in a free-standing bucket at one side. 'We're dining here?' she burst out. Somehow she had thought they would go out to dinner, which would have given her more time, but obviously Alex had other ideas.
'Where else on our honeymoon?' he husked, his arms closing around her from behind, holding her tight against his tall body, his lips nuzzling her neck. 'Alone at last.' His breath singed her skin.
'What a cliché.' She tried to laugh and pulled herself out of his arms. 'You order the food; I need to freshen up.'
She dashed for the door she imagined was the bathroom, and for the first time that day got something right. She closed the door and bolted it, her heart pounding, her mouth dry. In ordinary circumstances tonight could have been a dream come true: she was married to the man she loved and on her honeymoon. But she could not fool herself; it was hopeless. . .
God help her! She swallowed hard. What a mess! She should have remembered; she had heard somewhere that revenge was best taken cold, and given that she was always hot around Alex her scheme would never have worked anyway, never mind the fact that she had fallen in love wife him. . . She was only putting off the inevitable by hiding in the bathroom. She would have to go for the truth and pray that Alex would understand. That was if he didn't kill her first. . .
They did not linger over the meal. Saffron had no appetite, and quaffed the champagne as if it were going out of style, while she would have sworn, if she had not known better, that Alex was nervous. They drank a toast to their marriage and Saffron invented a few others simply to delay the hour of reckoning, and amazingly he allowed her to get away with it. Finally however, he drained his glass, placed it quite deliberately on the table and stood up.
'I think we'll forgo coffee; you may use the bathroom first.' And, catching her hand, he pulled her to her feet and led her into the large bedroom.
Her green eyes widened at the sight of the huge bed that dominated the room. Tell him. . .tell him now. . .her mind screamed, but she had trouble tearing her gaze away. A frothy white négligé—a present from Anna- lay draped across the white lace cover, beside it a pair of black silk pyjamas. The intimacy of the nightwear brought home to her as nothing else exactly what she had done, and what she was inviting. For the finît time in days fear cleared her head with remarkable alacrity.
'Alex, I've made a mistake.' The words were out before she could stop them. She straightened her shoulders and turned to face him. Truth was the only way. She tilted her head back to look up into his handsome face. 'I should never have married you.'
'Say that again.' He shook his head in disbelief, one lock of black hair falling over his broad forehead.
'I want to go back to England. We can get the marriage annulled and forget it ever happened,' she said in a tight, nervous voice. She turned and walked towards the door, but Alex's arm around her waist halted her, hauling her back against his hard body.
'You're nervous,' he said softly. His dark head bent and he nuzzled the soft line of her neck, but she pulled free, stepping away from him.
'No, I mean it.' She reached for the door-handle and was suddenly swept off her feet and into Alex's arms.
'Foolish girl. It's just natural bridal nerves. Hell, surprisingly enough, I'm nervous myself!'
If his words had been meant to reassure her they didn't. She struggled in his arms, crying out, 'I am not nervous, damn you! Put me down.' And he did, dropping her on the bed. She lay flat on her back staring up at him, trying to find the words to extricate herself from the mess she had made of everything.
'Sorry.' Inadequate, she knew. 'I really am sorry, Alex I thought. . .' She paused then began to talk and could not stop. 'I thought I could marry you and hurt you the way you have hurt so many people by your determination to make money legally or otherwise. I wanted to make you suffer like my friend Eve. To take you for every penny I could get.' But I realised I loved you, was what she wanted to say but couldn't, because the one thing she had recognised while she had been agonising over her marriage the last few hours was that Alex did not love her. His reasons for marrying her were not much better than Saffron's had been originally. Instead she added in a flat voice, 'You see, I know all about Studio 96.'
His dark head jerked back. 'You know Studio 96?' he rasped, his eyes narrowed on her pale face.
At least he had not attempted to deny it, Saffron thought dully, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her feet finding the floor. 'Yes, I know it.' She ran her small hands through her hair, brushing it back from her face, and glanced up at Alex, He was standing perfectly still as if carved in stone, his rugged face expressionless. 'I know you owned that disgusting massage parlour.' There; she had finally said it.
'I see, and were you an employee?' he ground out scathingly.
Saffron stared at him. 'I lasted exactly fifteen minutes, the length of time it took me to realise what kind of health club it was, and you, Alex, showed me the door. Unfortunately my best friend Eve was not so lucky. I lost touch with her and then a few months ago a policeman arrived at my door to tell me Eve had died of an overdose and left a letter for me. Working in that supposedly high-class health club had destroyed her, while men like you get rich on the proceeds.'
Her green eyes searched his face in puzzled frustration. 'Why, Alex? You have so many other business interests, why a sordid massage parlour?' She shook her head; it didn't make sense. 'Greed?' she queried, but did not really want to hear his response.
Confession was supposed to be good for the soul, but Saffron was having serious doubts. She stood up, and would have walked past Alex but he reached for her, his fingers digging cruelly into her arm. He spun her round, his other hand curvad around her neck, and she raised her eyes to his, and what she saw made the blood freeze in her veins.
'Of course; the young platinum—' He stopped. He had finally recognised her from the past. Shaking his head as if to dispel some image, he carried on coldly, clinically, 'Am I to understand you married me today as some kind of revenge for the death of your friend, and now you want out? So what has changed your mind, Saffron, dearest?' he demanded with chilling cynicism. "The thought of sleeping with me too much for you to stomach?' he ended in a snarl.
'My sweet Saffron, the epitome of all innocence, and more Greek than I when it comes to revenge.' A harsh laugh escaped Mm as his hand moved under her chin, forcing her head back. His glittering gaze clashed with hers. 'Tell me, you bitch, when did you decide on this plan of yours—the minute we met or before? Is that why you worked for my mother?'
'No—no—I. . .' Saffron was petrified. Alex's hand slid from her arm to curve around her waist, holding her manacled to the hard, muscular length of his body. His hand at her chin was hurting her jawbone, and the icy fury in his* eyes, the harshly forbidding expression on his ruthless face made her want to cry out in terror.
'Answer me,' he grated.
'I—I didn't recognise you until we left the yacht. The business suit, navy. . . Before, I thought I knew you but the suit and briefcase. . . I realised who you were and ha—' She almost said 'hated you' but stopped herself in time. She was alone in the bedroom with a furiously angry male. This was not going at all as she had hoped. How idiotic of her to expect that a man like Alex would let her just walk away. She must have been out of her tiny mind. . . But then it felt as if she had been in that state ever since she'd clapped eyes on the damn man! she thought helplessly.
'Hated me? Then I think I should give you reason.' His pitiless intention was obvious, and even as Saffron tried to struggle she was once more on the bed, but this time Alex was beside her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
'No, Alex, you don't understand. I changed my mind. I should. . .' Her words were stilled by his mouth covering hers in a bitter parody of a lover's kiss. When it was over she lay panting on the bed, his strong body half covering hers as he swiftly removed her jacket and dispensed with her skirt with ruthless efficiency.
'Understand? I understand too damn well, you little cheat. "I changed my mind"?' he mimicked scathingly, and all the time his gaze never left her face, until she was half demented by the probing black eyes which seemed intent on devouring her. 'I hate to tell you, darling, but you don't have that choice,' he grated with seething sarcasm, the straps of her camisole snapping like matchsticks as he tore the garment from her body, exposing her naked breasts to the brightly lit room. 'Yes, Ales, please, Alex,' he sneered. 'I'll have you begging for it, you little bitch.'
But the cold fury in his voice, his tight mouth, the dull flush on his high cheekbones revealed the massive effort he was exerting to gain self-control and not to take her there and then.
Perspiration broke out on her temples. 'No, please. . .' But her plea fell on deaf ears as she tried to struggle, lashing out at him with feet and hands, her efforts fruitless because he was so much larger and rage lent him added purpose.
'You're sorry?' he snarled. 'You want to leave?' He slid off the bed but kept her pinned to the mattress with one large hand in the middle of her chest; with the other he removed the test of his clothes, carelessly throwing them to the floor. 'I'll show you sorry, Saffron,' he vowed ruthlessly, his black eyes roaming over ter face and almost naked, trembling form with lascivious intent. '
You can't be serious,' she cried inanely. He towered over her, his nude body gleaming golden in the artificial light, and to her horror a blush ran from her head lo her toes. He was so beautifully male that even in her terror she still reacted to him.
'I have never been more serious in my life.' He joined her on the bed and she kicked out at him, but one hard thigh quickly trapped, her flailing limbs.
'Did you rally think you could get revenge on a Greek? We are past masters at the art. You should have remembered that Saffron.' He rolled over on top of her and, catching her hands, held them pinned to the pillow above her head in one of his, his full weight pressing the breath from her body, but still she shivered at ite intimate brush of his mat of chest hair against her naked flesh.
She bucked against him in a vain attempt to dislodge him. 'Get off me, you great hulking brute. I hate you!* Her quick temper and sheer terror made her strite at him with anything she could think of. 'My God, you. and your Greek heritage! Family! What a laugh! Even your own mother is afraid of you; for years you've made her suffer with relatives she can't abide.'
If she'd thought he was angry before, that was nothing compared to his reaction now. . .
Alex's head jerked back and he stared down at her in violent black fury, his eyes flaming with rage. His grip tightened on her wrists, forcing a low cry from fer. 'Wrong move, Saffron,' he grated between histeeth, his dark head bending lower, and Saffron felt herself begin to tremble. 'You will not distract me with wild accusations. I intend having you, and you must have realised by now that I usually get what I want in the end.'
'However low you have to stoop to do it?' she cried unwisely, but fear and anger mingled with sheer panic made her forget all caution. 'About what I would have expected from a man no better than a pimp,' she added, dredging up a last few grains of defiance.
He did not notice her panic, only the derision in her words. 'Don't ever, ever call me that again if you value your life!' he snarled, and his hand reached out to tangle in her hair, jerking her head up towards him, his face only inches from her own. For a long moment he stared into her glittering angry eyes, a muscle jerking in his cheek.
"The truth hurts,' she managed to fight back.
'You are either a fool or a very brave woman,' he snarled, like a tiger about to pounce.
She looked at him with bitter resentment. As far as Alex was concerned she was a fool; she had known she was beaten from that day on Mykonos only she'd had too much pride and been too afraid to admit it.
His mouth fastened on hers brutally, kissing her with savage fury, and she moaned in pain and, more humiliatingly, aching longing. Sensing her reluctant response, his lips gentled, his mouth searched hers and his long fingers tightened their hold on her.
His breath seared her mouth and down the vulnerable curve of her throat. 'You are going to give me what I have paid for, my sweet wife.* He looked at her, his lips curved in a deadly smile, then his head lowered to her breast.
'I'm not. . .' she choked almost incoherently as his teeth bit lightly at her breast; he blatantly watched the nipple swell and tighten and then glanced knowingly up at her flushed face.
'You will, but don't worry—I won't take anything you aren't prepared to give.' His breathing had deepened but he spoke with a deadly calm that was more terrifying than his earlier rage. 'You have led me a merry dance. No woman has ever succeeded in doing that to me, and neither will you.'
Her heart racing, Saffron realised it was the devil in him talking, the powerful, cynical businessman against whom she had never stood a chance and whom she had been the biggest fool in Christendom even to try to outwit. Already she could feel a sweet tide of pleasure she couldn't resist flowing through her veins, and as his head lowered again, his tongue flicking lightly over the tip of her breast, she gasped and felt her body yielding itself to him in trembling anticipation, his to do with as he wanted, even as her mind tried to deny the ease with which he aroused her. She flinched as he raised his head to watch her.
'I did not mean to bite. There; I've kissed you better,' he said silkily, his free hand covering her other breast and squeezing gently. Saffron arched beneath him in helpless response, and his black eyes held hers, a glint of mockery in their fiery depths.
'It is time to pay the piper,' he rasped as his mouth claimed hers once more. For a second she offered a token resistance, clenching her teeth, but it did not last. His long, supple fingers played with the hard tip of her breast and her lips parted on a low moan, giving him the access he sought.
His kiss hardened, his tongue dancing in and out of every moist, secret coma: of her mouth, while his hand taunted and teased, stroking down over her belly and beneath her briefs and garter belt, her only remaining clothes, to the soft red hair at the juncture of her thi
ghs.
'Stockings. My favourite,' Alex said, kissing her navel. 'Hardly virginal,' he mocked, glancing up at her glazed eyes. 'Another little ruse, no doubt,' he grated as with slow deliberation he peeled her panties and stockings from her legs, kissing his way down and back up their shapely length, then once more finding her mouth.
Saffron knew she should fight, but had no will left; the blood pounded thick and hot through her veins, every nerve pulled taut with passion. Alex was an expert lover and his touch, the scent of him, the brush of skin on skin, the subtle play of his long fingers over her quivering, aching flesh melted her bones. He was so large, so powerful; the scent of Mm filled her nostrils and his touch filled her mind and heart to the exclusion of all else.
She was not aware that he had freed her hands until she felt the strength of his broad shoulders beneath her fingertips. She began caressing him in urgent need. Her lips parted and she whimpered as she felt the steel-hard weight of him against her thigh, while with mouth and tongue he teased and tormented her, kissing every inch of her soft flesh.
'Saffron, my spicy Saffron,' he growled as he showered kisses back down her stomach, trailing his hands over her burgeoning breasts and down. He nudged her legs apart with one hard-muscled thigh then trailed kisses along her hipbone, and she cried out as his wicked fingers delved in the heart of her womanhood and his kiss became too intimate to endure.
Soon she was twisting and gasping, her hands clenching the sheet as her body arched in a bow, seeking, needing only the fulfilment that Alex could give her.
A Devious Desire Page 11