Catherine George - Eligible Greeks - Tycoon's Revenge

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 would 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.

He glanced at his watch, and then strolled towards the en suite bathroom. ‘We’re running seriously late, so I’ll have to wait until tonight for the pleasure of taking you to bed,’ he drawled. ‘As for shopping—I will be paying for your clothes. Think of it as one of the perks of being my mistress,’ he said in a harder tone, when she opened her mouth to argue. ‘I want to see you in sexy clothes that flatter your gorgeous body. Not in an outfit that makes you look as though you are auditioning for a role in The Sound of Music.’

Dinner was the ordeal Tahlia had expected. In ordinary circumstances she would have enjoyed the stunning décor and the ambience of the Artemis’s gold-star restaurant, where a celebrated French chef had prepared four superb courses. But from the moment Thanos led her over to the table where his guests were already seated and introduced her as his ‘companion’ she felt so painfully self-conscious—everyone must have guessed she was his mistress—that she could do no more than toy with her food.

As well as the dignitaries from Mykonos, three of Thanos’s top executives were also present, and although everyone spoke in English rather than Greek, her attempts at conversation with them were stilted. They clearly thought she was a bimbo, and one of the executives, a man Thanos had introduced as Antonis Lykaios, watched her avidly throughout the meal, trailing his eyes over her as if he were mentally undressing her.

Tahlia was torn between longing for the evening to be over and praying that it would last for ever—because what was to come next was certain to be a hundred times worse, she brooded. Her eyes were drawn to Thanos. He looked breathtaking tonight, in a black dinner suit and a white silk shirt, his dark hair swept back from his brow and the flickering light from the table’s centrepiece of candles highlighting the sharp edges of his cheekbones. He was urbane, sophisticated, and no doubt a skilful lover, she thought, feeling a rush of shaming heat flood through her when he looked across the table and their glances locked.