Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife(34)

‘So is the Mayor at this pre-election party the same Mayor you wanted me to meet at the theatre that night?’ she asked, swallowing hard as he led the way to the Bugatti.

Her words interrupted Rion’s thoughts—thoughts which involved rucking up her sexy little dress and arriving very late to meet the Mayor indeed. He forced them from his mind. Tonight, of all nights, he needed to stay focussed.

He nodded as he held open the car door for her. ‘His name is Georgios Tsamis. Here in Metameikos the role of Mayor is an honorary one rather than one that carries any political power—deservedly bestowed upon Georgios for fighting for his country in the past, and his subsequent work in the local community.’

Libby threw all her efforts into listening, and not looking at his powerful hands on the steering wheel as he turned the key in the ignition.

‘It has always been the tradition that prior to a new election the Mayor holds a party at his residence, for both the candidates and the voters, as a celebration of democracy and to show that he supports whoever the people elect.’

She nodded her head thoughtfully as they began to zip through the streets towards the new part of Metameikos, daylight just clinging around the edges of the whitewashed villas as the sun began to set. ‘But presumably there is always speculation as to which candidate he favours?’

Rion was surprised by her political astuteness. ‘Indeed.’

‘And he has supported Spyros in previous years?’

‘Georgios is a good man, with very traditional values. Unfortunately he is also an extremely poor judge of character and has been oblivious to Spyros’s underhand dealings for years.’

Libby wanted to retort that maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to complain about a mayor unable to see through people’s guises, but she kept her lips tightly locked together and simply nodded.

Rion added nothing further, and a tension similar to the one she’d felt the last time they were in the car together seemed to return as the silence stretched out. Which had to be the product of her imagination, Libby decided, because that had been sexual tension, and even if he did keep shooting her sideways glances that looked far from chaste, it couldn’t be that, because she hadn’t been insubordinate in the least.

Out of the corner of his eye Rion caught her gnawing at her bottom lip with the same frustration that had been eating away at him for days. She wasn’t going to hold out much longer. He could feel it. Could feel her trying to convince herself that the atmosphere between them was in her imagination, and the slow dawning realisation that it was not.

He smiled as he rolled the car to a halt outside the mayoral residence and gently ran the back of his hand down her bare arm.

‘We’re here,’ he breathed, feeling her melt beneath his touch.

Instantly, a valet came to open the doors of the Bugatti, and Rion went round to her side of the car ready to escort her in.

She couldn’t fail to notice the irony as Rion handed his keys and a hefty tip to the young man in the red-and-grey uniform. Couldn’t fail to be reminded of back then, when he had been the valet. She dropped her head, the memory of a simpler time, when she’d been convinced that he cared for her, tearing at her heart.

Rion instantly saw the change in her body language. She’d been on the verge of sinking into him, raising her lips to his and giving in. Then she’d caught sight of the valet and her whole demeanour had changed.

Anger coursed through his veins. Red-hot. Relentless. And too instinctive to realise that it was also ill-advised.

He grabbed her wrist and spun her round to face him.

‘It doesn’t matter how often you remind yourself of what I am, or how hard you try to convince yourself that I’m the one whose desire is an inconvenient truth, it’s never going to go away.’

Libby’s head shot up and her heart began to pound in her ears. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘This.’

His arm came around her back to hold her steady, encouraging her to arch slightly, so that the whole column of her throat was exposed and her head lay back at the perfect angle for him to take her mouth.

It was hard, punishing, and sexy as hell.

And Libby didn’t have a clue what it meant. She tried to unravel what he’d said, but her mind was too fuzzy with desire—the desire she’d kept locked up for days, but which was now spilling out and into their kiss. It made no sense. He wasn’t supposed to desire her when she was being compliant—unless he was so frustrated that she was repressing the woman she’d been that afternoon and he wanted to let her out.

But then he broke away from her, and when the world stopped spinning she realised in horror where they were. Surrounded by the people of Metameikos, all heading towards the soaring mayoral residence before them, all witnessing their public display of affection. She blushed furiously, but it wasn’t the dent to her modesty which hurt. It was the realisation that they were the reason he’d kissed her. It stung so badly that she forgot she was supposed to be being demure.