Clenching his fists, Talos stepped into the shower. He leaned back as the hot water coursed over his naked body. He washed his hair, rubbed soap over his chest.
Would it be so bad to give in to temptation?
The insidious thought made his eyes fly open.
Would it be so bad to take what he wanted? To gorge himself until he was sick of her?
Like Scotch.
The first time he’d tasted an expensive single malt Scotch, he’d been only nineteen, newly arrived in New York. He’d done well for his American boss in Athens, but this was a new country—a new world. Waiting for half an hour in Dalton Hunter’s office, he’d grown steadily more nervous. He’d finally poured himself a shot of the rich amber-colored liquor from a crystal decanter on a silver tray. He’d had one delicious taste before he’d looked up to see Dalton watching him from the door.
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Wondering if he was about to get sacked on his first day, Talos lifted his chin and observed defiantly, “I thought you’d want me to learn how to hold my liquor. As an asset to the company.”
“Quite so,” Dalton said, sounding amused. Then his eyes narrowed. “So drink it all.”
Talos had looked at the nearly full decanter in shock. “All?”
“Right now. Or get out.”
So Talos had drunk the entire decanter, gulping down the smooth, smoky Scotch as if it were water. However, his bravado had been lessened when he’d spent the whole afternoon puking in the office bathroom, aware of the other employees laughing at him in the hallway. When he’d finally gone back to his boss, he’d been red-faced, sweaty, humiliated.
“Now you know not to steal from me,” Dalton had said before he coldly turned away. “Get to work.”
Talos still grimaced as he remembered that day. He’d never been able to touch Scotch again. Almost twenty years later, just the smell of it still made him sick.
And that was how he wished he could feel about Eve.
He wished he could get her out of his system once and for all. Until he never wanted her again. Until the thought of bedding her was as disgusting as a flawless Baccarat crystal decanter of imported single malt Scotch.
Turning off the water, he toweled himself dry. He pulled his clothes from the closet where someone in his staff had neatly put them away. He stepped into his boxers and black pants, then stared at himself in the half-fogged mirror. He took a deep breath.
No.
He wouldn’t give in to lust.
He wouldn’t be seduced by her again.
Fiercely, he pushed aside the thought of Eve in his bed, her skin glowing with rough lovemaking and her eyes full of desire.
He’d once planned to take her new fortune from her under threat of prosecuting her for theft and corporate espionage.
But now…
All he wanted was their child, safe and healthy in his arms. And Eve to disappear from their lives forever after the baby was born.
As he buttoned his sharply tailored white shirt, he glared at himself in the mirror. Every time he thought of the lustful fool he’d been a few months ago, neglecting his business, spending every hour in bed with her, making love to her day and night, it made him grind his teeth with rage.
He would never let it happen again.
He would never lower his guard. Never give up control again.
Talos had to convince her to marry him as soon as possible. Today, he thought, leaning in toward the mirror as he shaved his jaw. He couldn’t risk her regaining her memory before he’d tied her down as his bride, giving his child a name. Then he would help her remember. And after the baby was born, he would blackmail Eve with the choice of her child or her money.
He had no doubt which she’d choose.
So today, he would act the part of a besotted lover. He would tempt her. Lure her. He would whisper sweet words. Poetry. Flowers. Jewelry. Whatever it took. His lip curled. How hard could it be?
He dropped the razor to the counter, wiping the last vestiges of shaving cream off his face with a towel.
He would not, repeat, would not—he glared at himself—take her to his bed.
Damn it, he wouldn’t!
He heard a door slam and suddenly Eve was standing behind him. His jaw dropped as he looked at her in the mirror. She smiled back serenely.
“Good morning.”
“Eve.” He whirled around with a gasp. “What have you done?”
CHAPTER FIVE
EVE had been beaming at him, but now she felt suddenly shy. She put her hand to her hair, which yesterday had hung past her breasts but now barely touched her collarbone. “I had my hair cut.”#p#分页标题#e#
“I can see that.”
“So why did you ask?” she retorted pertly, squaring her shoulders. “Honestly!”