The Greek Tycoon's Convenient Wife. Sharon Kendrick
around him, she kissed him back with a wantonness which felt as if it had been building up since last time he had kissed her all those years ago.
‘Alice!’ He let out a groan as she wriggled beneath him—the touch of her so shockingly and instantly familiar, but this time tempered with the spice of absence. His mouth at her throat, he nudged his thigh insistently against hers and they opened for him immediately and Kyros groaned with a kind of stunned disbelief. Her desire was simple and straightforward. She would play no games. She never had. Her sexual appetite had been more than a match for his—had he somehow thought that time might change that?
Heart pounding like a piston in his chest, he skated his hand down the front of her dress—the siren call of her body urging him on as he rucked up the slippery fabric of her dress, stroking his hand along the cool silk of her thigh until it alighted on her panties, and then he slipped his finger inside her.
At that she gasped, her eyes snapping open, and even in the shadow of the evening he could see they were dense and black with desire just as he could feel her barely contained shiver of delight.
‘Kyros! Stop it. We…we can’t—’
His hand stilled. Alice—refusing him?
‘We can’t…stay here.’
In the moonlight he smiled as he moved against her heated flesh. ‘No?’
Alice groaned—her hungry body calling out to her—but some last shred of sanity made her shake her head. Because how the hell would it look if someone found them locked in an intimate embrace? Did she think so little of herself that she could allow such an easy seduction? ‘No,’ she moaned. ‘There are people at the other end of the garden.’
In the darkness, his mouth curved into a hard smile. That did not sound like a refusal—more like a delaying tactic. He eased back from her a little, recognising the need to quieten down his aroused body or there was the very real fear that he would be unable to walk.
He stood up, and held his hand out to her. ‘Get up,’ he demanded unevenly. ‘We’re going back to your house.’
Alice steadied her ragged breathing. ‘But…what will people think?’
‘I don’t care what people think, Alice.’
Warning bells went off in her head at his arrogant statement, reminding her that she was risking getting hurt all over again.
‘Well, I do,’ she said.
‘Not enough to stop me,’ he taunted softly, his hands now cupping her silky bottom and bringing her hard up against the cradle of his desire. ‘Is it enough to stop you, Alice?’
Say no. Say it’s wrong. Too soon. That any respect he may have had for you will be destroyed by this illadvised passion. Say no!
‘No,’ she admitted tremblingly as she imagined him deep inside her.
He caught her fingers in his and began moving purposefully down the garden. Alice could hear chatter and music, the tinkling of crockery on china, and little shrieks of laughter as they passed. How perfectly normal it all sounded, she thought—with a sudden pang. While she was sneaking away like a thief in the night with a man who had already hurt her.
Was she crazy? Yes, very probably. But by now they had slipped unnoticed out of the side gate and she found herself wondering whether he made a habit of this as he led her confidently through the streets—as if she were the stranger in her home town.
They walked in a breathless kind of silence and when they reached her parents’ house, he tipped her face up. ‘Is your friend due to sleep over here tonight?’
She shook her head.
‘Good.’
How clinical he was, she thought—and how well thought out his line of questioning as he took all the known factors into account, a bit like some hot-shot lawyer. But Alice could guess at his overriding concern. That he didn’t want to wait and didn’t want to be disturbed. The tautness in his hard body was as tight as a stretched bow and the crackling tension between them was almost palpable.
He drifted his fingertips along her cheek—as if he was using the power of touch to dissolve any last, lingering doubts. And, oh, didn’t it work a treat? But Alice was past caring whether the gesture had been cynically manipulative or not. To be honest, she was past caring about anything except how much she ached to be in his arms and his bed once more.
‘K-Kyros,’ she said shakily, her tongue snaking out to moisten her parchment-dry lips.
‘Let’s get inside,’ he said roughly.
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