Bought for the Billionaire's Revenge(12)

‘Warned me?’ A smile flicked at the corners of his lips. ‘You think this is something for which I needed warning?’

‘Well...’ She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘I don’t know.’

Her eyes dropped to the tiled floor, where the soapy water was fleeing the scene, racing towards the drain.

‘Not warning,’ he said firmly. ‘Just...explanation. How is this possible?’

Her cheeks were glowing; she could feel them. ‘Well, it’s not that difficult. I’ve just abstained from having sex. Hardly rocket science.’

His laugh was thick and throaty. Desire flickered in her abdomen, surprising her into blinking her eyes up at him. The air around them seemed to be supercharged with awareness.

He sponged across her décolletage, then lower, slowly, torturously circling one already over-sensitive breast.

‘Was it a decision you made? To remain a virgin?’

She was on a precipice. The question wasn’t a simple one to answer. If she responded with the truth it would reveal so much more of her heart than she wished to show him! What if she were to tell him that she’d never met a man who’d made her feel remotely tempted in the way he had?

Instinctively she shied away from handing him such a degree of power. ‘Yes. I made a little pre-nup with myself,’ she breathed with a hint of sarcasm.

He transferred the sponge to her other breast, his attention focussed on the small orbs and the erect nipples that were straining for his touch.

‘You wanted to sleep with me back then.’

She shrugged. Her heart was pounding, though. Why hadn’t she realised that he would hone in on that? ‘Any chance we can not talk about this?’

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he nodded, a muscle jerking in his cheek. ‘I was surprised,’ he said simply. ‘You’ve had boyfriends?’

‘Of course I have,’ she said, thinking of the handful of men she’d gone on dates with. The men her father had approved of. Suitable men who had left her stone-cold.

‘Then how...?’

‘I thought we weren’t talking about this?’ she reminded him quietly.

He nodded once more, his frustration obvious despite his acquiescence. ‘It’s just so unusual. You are twenty-three years old.’

She nodded, but speech was becoming difficult as he moved the sponge lower, dragging soapy suds over her stomach and lower still, to the space between her legs.

The warm water was heaven against her body. She moaned as he dropped the sponge to the ground with a splash and let his palm rub against her womanhood instead. After wondering briefly if she should be ashamed of the certainty that she wanted him again, she discarded the thought, pressing herself lower, begging him with her body not to remove his hand.

He watched as a fever of desire stole through her body. ‘You must have been tempted. From what I recall you had a healthy sexual appetite when we were together.’

She gasped as he teased a finger at her entrance, incapable of responding.

‘I had imagined you to have slept with several men by now.’

How those thoughts had tortured him!

‘Yes, well...’ She groaned, lowering her hips, begging him for more. ‘We’re not all as libidinous as you.’ She pushed the words out from between clamped teeth.

‘You are,’ he said simply, marvelling at how her body was clamping around him.

He dragged his lips along her jaw, nipping the flesh just beneath her ear before taking an earlobe into his mouth and flicking it between his teeth.

She writhed against the tiles and he jerked in immediate response.

‘I would take you again already if I weren’t worried about hurting you.’

‘You won’t hurt me,’ she promised throatily. Her eyes were enormous as they lifted to his. ‘I want you. Now.’

He arched a brow, moving his mouth to her breasts. The soap had long since been washed away and they were warm and moist between his lips. The feeling of his lips on her flesh made her jerk.

‘Nik!’ she cried out, digging her nails into his shoulder.

The name jarred. No. Out of nowhere, it infuriated him. A white-hot rage slammed against him—completely inappropriate but impossible to ignore.

Just her simple use of that name—as though she was slipping back into the past and forgetting that they were no longer a couple. Yes, they were married, but resentment had led to that. Anger, and even hatred. Referring to him as she had done when they were together wasn’t something he welcomed.

Nik she’d called him back then. Never Nikos. And her lips had always curved into a sweet smile, as though his name was an invocation of secrets and hopes.

But that had all been a lie. She hadn’t really cared for him then; she’d just made him believe she had. She’d played the part perfectly. And he’d fallen for it hook, line and sinker. Well, not again.

She had married him, but only for the sake of her father. Just as she’d broken up with him because of her father. This was a business deal, plain and simple, and just as in business he needed to keep his focus. Her virginity, while interesting, did not change a thing about their arrangement.

He lifted her against the tiles and wrapped her legs around his waist, driving into her as though his life depended on taking her, on being one with her. It was just sex, but Nikos didn’t want anything else from Marnie, anyway. And, no matter how great the sex was, he couldn’t forget that.

It was up to him to remember just who he’d married.

She was cold to the core—except in his bed.





CHAPTER FIVE

MARNIE PADDED DOWN the stairs, her eyes straining a little against the brightness of Greece and the whiteness of his home. It was warm, too, though a breeze shifted through the wide corridor, lifting her Donna Karan dress as she reached the ground floor.

The house was quiet, except for a buzzing noise coming from the direction of the kitchen. Curious, she followed the sound, her tummy making a little groan of anticipation.

She’d slept late.

Then again, she’d been up late, too.

Her cheeks flushed as she remembered making love to Nikos in the shower, and then afterwards, when she’d almost drifted off to sleep, she’d felt his mouth teasing her body, drifting over her breasts, down her abdomen, to torment her one last time.

It had been a fantasy. She could almost believe she’d dreamed the whole thing. Except that she felt a little sore and tender in the light of day.

The sight of her husband in the kitchen made her heart skid to a stop. She swallowed, drinking him in hungrily. Awareness flooded her body. He was dressed in a business shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing those dark, muscled forearms of his. The shirt sat tucked in at the waist, revealing that honed stomach and firm hips. A burst of adrenalin and desire flared through her.

She bit down on her lower lip in an attempt to stall the smile that was threatening to split her mouth apart.

‘Morning,’ she murmured, her eyes sparkling with remembered intimacies.

He flicked a gaze to her, then returned his attention to the broadsheet paper that was spread across the bench. ‘Coffee?’

Her smile was quick to snap into a small frown. ‘Oh...um...yes.’

She wasn’t sure he’d heard; he remained perfectly still, his head bent as he read an article. After several long seconds he sipped his own coffee, then placed the mug down and moved to the corner of the kitchen. She’d expected to see a machine, but she saw Nikos had one of those stainless steel coffee pots. He poured a measure for Marnie and she wrinkled her nose, remembering instantly his predilection for coffee so thick it was almost like tar.

‘Perhaps I’ll have tea instead.’

He shrugged. ‘I would be surprised if you find teabags. I don’t drink the stuff.’ He left the coffee cup on the bench beside her, then topped up his own mug. ‘Speak to Eléni about your requirements. She will see the house has whatever you need.’

‘Eléni?’ Marnie murmured, her voice soft in response to his emotional distance.

‘My housekeeper,’ he reminded her.

‘Right.’ She nodded, sipping her coffee and pulling a face at the liquid, claggy against her tongue.

Her eyes lifted to the window, and beyond it to the view. The beach was shimmering in the distance, invitingly cool given the warmth of the day.

‘I’m happy to go shopping.’ A frown pulled at her brows. She wasn’t sure she wanted to leave a housekeeper to run the house completely. ‘I suppose we should talk about that, actually.’

He gave no indication that he’d heard her. Whatever he was reading was apparently engrossing. Or he was avoiding her like the plague. But that didn’t make sense. Not after what they’d shared the night before.

‘Nik?’ she murmured, moving to stand right beside him.

There it was again. The word that he hated hearing from her mouth. Nik. The name that had given him such pleasure in the past was now like an accusing dagger in his gut. A reminder of what they’d been contrasted with what they were now, of the pain of their history and the resentment that had fuelled this union  —all contained in that small, soft sound. Nik.

Harsh emotions straightened his spine. He pressed his finger into the page, marking his spot, then lifted his eyes to her face. He skimmed her features thoughtfully, careful not to betray the emotions that the simple shortening of his name evoked.