Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD
between his fingers. His black eyes sought hers, and he murmured, ‘Perfect.’
Eloise had never imagined such pleasure existed, and she moved blindly against him. His hand slipped down to her belly and lower to her thighs, and she tensed.
Marcus sensed some resistance beneath Eloise’s headlong response, and he vowed he would wait even if it killed him. He had once promised her it would be perfect and he intended to fulfil the promise. He bent his head towards her and tongued each rigid-tipped breast, and then drew her flesh in his mouth.
Eloise gasped his name, ‘Marcus,’ as his fingers gently stroked between her thighs, slowly, lightly. She felt electric shock-waves of sensation jolting through her body; she wanted him, and she wanted to cry out, but instead she pressed her mouth to his throat and bit down in a fever of frustration.
Marcus stifled a groan and the swift kiss he pressed on her love-swollen lips turned into a savage duelling of tongues, as his long fingers parted the petals of her womanhood and found the hot, damp, velvet flesh throbbing, waiting for him…
He touched her gently, softly, fast then slow, until her hips arched towards him, and her hands dug into his shoulders and she was calling out his name.
Eloise shook violently, a fierce tension she had never experienced before jerking her every nerve and muscle tight, driving every single thought from her head, and leaving only a fiery need that was almost pain. ‘Please,’ she moaned, her head thrashing from side to side. His hands slipped under her hips and lifted her clear of the bed. She felt the velvet tip of his hard male flesh stroke and then with one thrust he was there, where she wanted him to be.
Eloise felt the briefest of pains, and then it happened. Marcus’s great body stilled for a second in disbelief.
She moaned his name and he moved deep and hard, filling her, stretching her, and taking her on a wild journey of almost mystical proportion. She felt the mighty strength of him thrusting, driving her on, until she cried out as her slender body convulsed in a paroxysm of sensation, and he joined with her until she had lost all sense of self, and the two of them became one perfect whole.
Afterwards she lay in his arms and felt the light caress of his fingertips against her sweat-damped flesh, soothing and caressing; he was murmuring husky words in Greek she did not understand. She sighed her delight, then tensed as his fingers found the ridge of flesh forming a scar on her inner thigh.
‘What is this?’ Marcus asked lazily, leaning over her and, by the dim light, let his slumberous eyes sweep over her beautiful naked body to where his fingers had found a small ridge of flesh. One long shapely leg had a scar about four inches long almost at the top.
‘Nothing.’ Eloise tried to cross her legs suddenly embarrassed. ‘Just a scar. I’m sorry if it upsets you.’
‘Oh, no, sweetheart,’ Marcus exclaimed and smiled down at her. ‘It does not upset me; in fact it is rather endearing. A tiny blemish in such perfection makes you seem more human,’ he opined, and brushed her lips with his. ‘But how did it happen? You did not have it when you were nineteen.’
‘No…well…’ She hesitated, and swallowed hard. ‘I was locked out of my apartment and I broke a window to get in, and cut my leg—nothing serious.’
‘Nothing serious,’ he murmured, moving down her naked body; he let his fingers trace the scar, feeling anger for her accident, and fiercely protective. As his woman there would be no more accidents, he vowed, and his lips followed the path of his fingers. This time the loving was slow and tender, but the end was the same, one perfect unity.
Eloise curled up close and wrapped her arms around his neck. She did not want to think about the past. She did not want to think about anything except how much she loved this man. Tonight had been a revelation and, for the first time in her life, she knew what it was to be a woman, and it was all because of Marcus. She hugged him, finally admitting to herself she had never got over him. She had loved him as a teenager, and she loved him now and probably always would, and a contented sigh escaped her.
‘Sighing. I didn’t think I was that bad,’ Marcus prompted and tilted her chin with a finger, his dark eyes gleaming down into hers.
‘That was a happy sigh,’ she speedily corrected him and, lifting a finger, she placed it over his lips. ‘And you know it, Buster. I can see smug male triumph in your eyes,’ she teased back.
‘Cheeky.’ He grinned broadly. ‘But I…’ Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the loud ringing of the telephone.
Hauling himself off the bed, Marcus picked up the phone from the bedside table, and as Eloise watched the laughing teasing lover vanished and the hard-headed businessman took his place. He was talking in Greek, and when he finally put the phone down he turned to Eloise. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘You really were expecting a call.’ She had had her doubts, and it was nice to know he had not tricked her into his suite, and bed.
‘O, ye of little faith,’ he mocked with a grin. ‘Actually, I have to make another one and, much as I would love to spend the night with you, I’d better get you back before your friends wonder what has happened to you.’
She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘I am a grown woman.’
He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose, ‘And if I stay here much longer I will be a grown man,’ he drawled sexily. Eloise blushed at his innuendo, and Marcus laughed out loud. ‘For a sophisticated lady, you blush delightfully.’
‘It’s the bane of my life,’ she admitted with a grin. ‘The penalty for being a redhead, I suppose.’
Marcus sent her a flashing smile of pure male satisfaction. ‘A natural one, as I now know, but if I don’t make this call my penalty is going to be the loss of a rather large deal.’
‘Heaven forbid, business first.’
He gave her a playful shove. ‘And you can have the bathroom first, and if you’re lucky I might join you.’
Eloise shot him a startled glance and, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she grasped the sheet and pulled it around her. She caught Marcus’s husky chuckle, but she wasn’t brave enough to parade in front of him naked—yet. She walked across to the bathroom door and turned. Her green eyes sparkling, she drawled, ‘Promises, promises,’ with a shake of her beautiful head. She could joke because she felt so great. He hadn’t said he loved her, but she was sure he did, and they had all the time in the world to get to know each other.
But in that she was wrong.
Five minutes later she walked back into the bedroom, and there was no sign of Marcus. Quickly she slipped back into her rather crumpled clothes, and wandered through into the sitting room.
Almost dressed, he was shrugging his broad shoulders into the jacket of his suit. He looked heartbreakingly handsome, and Eloise wanted to fling herself into his arms. Instead she picked up her own jacket and slipped it on, suddenly shy.
‘Sorry, Eloise.’ He strode towards her. ‘But the call was a bit more complicated than I had envisaged.’ He slid a comforting arm around her shoulder. ‘I’d better get you home.’ His dark eyes rueful, he looked down at her. ‘I need to get on to the computer.’
‘Oh.’
Marcus noted the crestfallen expression on her lovely face. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.’ And as he said it he knew it was true. He wanted this woman far more than any other woman he had ever met, and he did not want the relationship compromised by what to him was a paltry sum of money.
He was Greek, and honour and pride meant a lot. He had been very close to his Uncle Theo, who had been taken for a fool by Chloe Baker, and, sure Eloise had benefited from her mother’s scam—in fact all the evidence suggested she was in on the scam with Chloe. But it did not follow that she would do the same on her own. He had made some calls today and, as far as he could ascertain, Eloise worked hard at a successful business and, unlike her mother, she was not known for granting