Charlotte looked around the museum boardroom a few minutes later and wondered if she was going to need more than a glass of champagne for courage. The way she was feeling, a couple of bottles wasn’t going to be enough to dull the panic racing through her system. Her stomach was threatening to misbehave and her head felt so tight she was sure her skull was going to crack under the pressure.
The late-arriving members and guests were finally milling in, their lively chatter setting her already frayed nerves on edge.
She could see Damon Latousakis standing at the back with a glass of barely touched champagne in his hand. He turned and locked gazes with her, the seductive promise she could see glittering there making her heart stumble in her chest.
‘Members and honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen.’ The museum manager took his place at the microphone, his booming voice thankfully kick-starting Charlotte’s heart once more. ‘It is our very great honour to have with us Mr Damon Latousakis, the head of the Eleni Foundation, who has travelled all the way from the beautiful Greek island of Santorini to be with us this evening.’ He sent an ingratiating smile in Damon’s direction before returning to the microphone.
‘I would now like to call upon our acting museum curator, Ms Charlotte Woodruff, who is going to speak to you about how the exhibition cannot go ahead without the continued support of you—our members and our wonderful sponsors, including the very generous Mr Latousakis. Charlotte?’
Charlotte staggered towards the microphone, her mind going completely blank. What was she going to say? With the distraction of Stacey’s impromptu visit and Damon’s sudden appearance in the corridor she hadn’t had time to prepare a speech.
Think! Think!
The microphone needed lowering to her height of five foot five, which gave her a few precious seconds to get her brain into gear.
‘Members and honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen…’ she began and somehow continued her speech without once looking in Damon Latousakis’s direction, but she could feel his black diamond gaze on her all the same.
Finally it was over.
She stepped down from the podium on legs that felt like not quite set jelly and took the glass of champagne Diane was holding out for her.
Diane spirited her away to a quiet corner. ‘What did I tell you? You did a fabulous job. God, Damon Latousakis was looking at you the whole time like he was seeing right through that dress. You might think he’s arrogant, but it sure looks as if you’ve taken his fancy.’
Charlotte took a deep slug of her drink, more to put moisture in her dry mouth than for Dutch courage. ‘I’m sure you’re mistaken. He doesn’t like me one little bit,’ she said, letting her worried gaze drift to where Damon was leaning down to hear what one of the board members was saying.
‘What do you mean?’ Diane frowned as she followed the line of Charlotte’s vision.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Charlotte said, gripping her glass even more tightly.
Diane gave her a probing look. ‘Have you met him before?’
Charlotte didn’t answer but her expression must have given her away for Diane suddenly crowed, ‘I’ve got it! You met him in Greece when you went to do some research for your studies, right?’
Charlotte put her half-drunk champagne down on a side table and turned around so she couldn’t see the man who had torn her heart from her chest.
‘We have a past, yes. But I’d rather not talk about it. Sorry, Diane. It’s just too painful.’
‘Don’t worry, my lips are sealed,’ Diane said. ‘Uh-oh, he’s coming back over. I’d better scoot.’
‘No, don’t leave me!’ Charlotte made a quick grab for her colleague’s arm but it was too late. Diane had already been nabbed by one of the members, who was leading her away to show her something of interest on the far side of the room.
‘It is time for you to fulfil your promise, Charlotte,’ Damon Latousakis said, towering over her, his expression set in intractable lines. ‘Let us go and have that drink, hmm?’
‘Um…I…I’m not sure that would be appropriate right at this moment…I have some more people to see and—’
He stepped closer so she had to crane her neck to keep eye contact, which she could only assume was a deliberate attempt to intimidate her. He had always used his exceptional height to his advantage and now was clearly no different. He towered head and shoulders over everyone else in the room, but with him standing so close she felt even shorter than she really was. And not just shorter, but stripped of any scrap of power she had fooled herself into believing she had.
‘You are not reneging on our arrangement, are you?’ he asked.
‘I—I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to revisit the past…’ She moistened her mouth and added shakily, ‘I’ve had a long day and I think it might be best if I go straight home…’
His eyes burned down into hers with a warning she knew was going to be impossible to ignore. ‘Perhaps it would be a timely reminder at this point to inform you that if you do not follow through on your promise to have a drink with me, you could find yourself without an exhibition and, dare I say, without a job?’
It was true, Charlotte thought with a sickening wave of panic. If she did anything to compromise the exhibition’s success her one-off chance at being head museum curator was going to remain exactly that—one-off. She would never be considered for promotion again and, as he’d intimated—perhaps even fired.
‘The evening is drawing to a close,’ Damon said. ‘I have a limousine waiting outside. You and I will leave in it together and go back to my hotel, where we will have our private discussion and that little drink, understood?’
She swallowed the rough-edged lump in her throat. ‘If you insist,’ she said with undiluted resentment, her eyes flashing her ire.
‘Good,’ he said, taking her by the elbow. ‘Let us go right away. Smile for the cameras, agape mou. It would not look good if you were seen in tomorrow’s papers scowling at me as if I were the devil himself.’
Charlotte didn’t trust herself to answer, but she could feel the touch of his fingers burn through the winter sleeves of her velvet evening gown, the subtle suggestion of force underpinning his hold striking a deep note of unease in her.
The stretch limousine was, as he’d said, waiting outside the museum’s entrance and she made her way down the sandstone steps on legs that were struggling to keep her upright.
Once they were inside the car, Damon closed the panel separating the driver from the rear and joined her on the seat and his weight as he sat back on the plush leather caused her to tip sideways towards him. She put out a hand to stabilise herself but it landed on his strong, muscular thigh. She whipped her hand away but he caught it in mid-air and put it back down on his thigh, but much higher this time.
Charlotte’s eyes flared with panic as she felt his body stir beneath her hand. She could feel her cheeks turning a hundred shades of red as she tried to ease herself away but he was having none of it.
‘What is wrong, Charlotte?’ he asked. ‘Do you not remember how you used to slip your hot little hand inside my trousers in the past? Is that what you were hoping to do tonight, touching me like that to remind me of what we had shared in case I had forgotten?’
She felt a burst of liquid fire explode between her thighs as a host of memories assailed her. Oh, God! He had taught her such intimacies. She had learned under a master, her body singing with the tune of his touch each and every time.
‘And what about your equally scorching little tongue?’ he continued, his eyes still lasering hers. ‘Can you still taste me in your mouth, agape mou?’
She stared at him, unable to speak, unable to move, barely able to breathe.
He slowly brought his mouth to the side of her neck, his lips moving against her sensitive skin as he spoke. ‘I can still taste you. Your saltiness and your sweetness are branded on my tongue.’
Charlotte’s belly prickled with a thousand tiny needles of desire, her sk
in heating from the inside out. She tried to ease away but he continued his caress of her neck until he came to the upper curve of her right breast where the low-cut design of her gown gave him perfect access. She sucked in a sharp little breath as his tongue licked the exposed flesh, the faint but exquisite rasp on her skin sending every rational thought out of her head.
‘You still taste of passion, Charlotte,’ he said, his voice a low guttural growl as his hand reached for her bra-less breast. ‘I can feel it beating beneath your skin.’
His hand took the weight of her breast while his thumb commandeered her already pert nipple, his touch hovering somewhere between pleasure and pain.
There was a hint of cruelty to his mouth as his head came towards hers, but she did nothing to try and escape it.
Just one kiss, she gave herself mental permission.
Just one kiss…
His lips were like fire on hers, his tongue an invading force as it ensnared hers in a duelling dance that sent her senses into overdrive. Her mouth clung to his, her free hand coming up to his head to bury her fingers in the black silk of his hair, her breasts pressed tight against his chest, her tongue flicking against his unashamedly and with escalating urgency.
He pressed her back into the leather seat, his mouth leaving hers to suckle on the breast he’d already freed with his hand.
Charlotte arched her back as his tongue curled around her nipple, the warm cave of his mouth pulling on her until everything went out of focus. She clamped her eyes shut and whimpered with pleasure as his mouth drew on her more fervently. She felt his erection swelling beneath her hand and, with a brazenness she had no idea she still possessed, she began stroking, up and down, until she had the satisfaction of hearing him groan his need out loud.
His mouth came back to hers, this time with a heat and fire that was devastating. It woke every sizzling memory in her brain of their passionate time together under the burning heat of the Santorini summer sun. Her head burst with the memory of swallowing him for the first time, relieving him of the unbearable pressure that even now she could feel building beneath the ministrations of her hand.
Damon tore his mouth off hers to stare down at her with glittering eyes. ‘So it is as I suspected from the moment I saw you again. There is a fire still burning in your belly for me, as there is one in mine for you. It has never quite gone out, eh, Charlotte?’
She reared back in shock. ‘No! That’s not true.’
He caught her hand and brought it up to his mouth, his lips playing with each of her fingertips until he paused to ask, ‘But the thing I would like to know is, what price have you put on yourself now?’
Charlotte looked at him, her heart kicking like an unbroken thoroughbred in her chest. ‘P-price?’
His smile contained a hint of ruthlessness and his fingers tightened on hers. ‘You have surely moved beyond the pickpocket stage, have you not? You are after a much bigger haul this time around.’
‘You’re wrong,’ she said, lifting her chin in pride as she tugged out of his grasp. ‘I’ve never stolen anything from you or your mother. I was framed. I’m sure of it. Someone wanted me to be found guilty but it doesn’t mean I was.’
‘So you are still lying,’ he said, his dark eyes flickering with anger. ‘I would have thought you would have rid yourself of the habit by now.’
‘I’m not lying!’
‘I know what you are like, Charlotte. You are an expert at deceit. Four long years have passed and you are still the most convincing liar I have ever met. You do innocence so well I am sure you would confuse even a polygraph machine. But I am not a fool. I can see exactly what you are up to.’
Charlotte felt sick with apprehension. Her head swam with it, great swirls of it moving around so erratically she wondered if she might faint. She pinched the bridge of her nose to keep control, her whole body shaking beside the rigidity of his as the limousine drew to a halt outside one of Sydney’s premier hotels.
‘Get out,’ he commanded as the doorman opened the door for her.
She got out on wobbly legs and came to where Damon was waiting for her, his hand reaching for hers, the latent strength of his fingers as they enclosed hers leaving her with no chance of escape even if she’d had the courage or lack of sense to try.
The lift began to sweep them up to the penthouse floor but still Charlotte couldn’t unlock her frozen throat. It was filled with the dry ice of dread as the number for each floor was illuminated by a bright green light. They should be flashing red, she thought as she swallowed convulsively again.
Red for danger…
CHAPTER THREE
ONCE the lift doors opened with a whisper, Damon pulled Charlotte along with him to his penthouse, swiping his card key and thrusting the door open so she could precede him into the plush suite.
She watched as he lifted his hand to his throat and released his tie, the action so very masculine she felt her stomach tilt sideways in spite of all that had happened this evening.
‘What are you after this time around, I wonder?’ he asked, shrugging himself out of his jacket and tossing it on to one of the luxurious sofas.
Her face flamed with a combination of fury and embarrassment. ‘I don’t want anything and certainly not from you.’
He gave a mocking laugh. ‘Every woman is for sale,’ he said with arrogant confidence. ‘The trick for men is to get the currency right the first time around. You were after a billionaire husband four years ago and you very nearly pulled it off.’
His leather belt coiled like a serpent on the carpet and fear crept with frosty footsteps up the back of Charlotte’s neck.
‘But this time around I must say you have me a little intrigued as to your motives,’ he went on musingly. ‘You suggested we have a drink together but then you pretended you did not want to follow through. Then you could not stop yourself from touching and kissing me, and yet you deny any lingering attraction. You are playing cat and mouse games with me, are you not?’
‘No, of course not!’
‘You wanted to remind me of what I threw away, eh, Charlotte?’ He lifted her chin so she had no choice but to meet his all-seeing gaze, his thumb stroking so close to her mouth she could feel her lips starting to tingle. ‘Are you offering a re-run, I wonder?’
‘No…’ The word came out too softly to be believed but Charlotte knew that, no matter what passion still flared between them, she couldn’t possibly sleep with him without revealing her emergency Caesarian scar. He had accused her of lying about her pregnancy to get out of trouble. What would he say when he found out she hadn’t been lying at all?
If he were to find out she’d had his child, she knew she would be forced to say goodbye to her daughter for ever. She knew it without a doubt. With her sister’s problems on top of what Damon had already accused her of four years ago, Charlotte’s press for full custody would be laughed out of court for sure. Besides, good legal representation would cost her dearly and she had enough money worries already without adding to them.
She had to get Stacey into that clinic. It was her only chance to get out of the clutch of her addiction.
‘You are looking pale,’ Damon observed, dropping his hand. ‘Have I shocked you, Charlotte? Did you not think I would still want you after all this time?’
She moistened her mouth. ‘Y-yes…I am a little shocked…’
His eyes glinted. ‘To tell you the truth, agape mou, so am I. I did not expect to feel anything but hatred when I saw you tonight but the sudden rush of desire I felt and still feel for you is like a fever raging in my blood. I will have you again. That is what your little heat and retreat routine tonight was all about, was it not? To make me revisit what we started four years ago.’
She sent him a look of defiance overlaid with scorn. ‘Only a barbarian would want to satisfy a desire for someone he hated.’
‘You think me a barbarian?’ His black eyes challenged hers. ‘I can see I am going to have to make you eat those words, Charlotte. Y
ou were the one who came on to me in the limousine, remember? You made it very clear you were interested in resuming our association.’
Anger rose in her like bile; she could taste it in her mouth, the metallic sourness making her feel positively ill. Shame was there too, burning red-hot shame that leaked into her cheeks as she remembered how she had touched him.
‘If you think you can intimidate me, think again,’ she lied.
‘I must not be getting my message across very clearly,’ he said silkily, his deep voice moving over her skin like a flow of sun-warmed chiffon.
She disguised a nervous swallow but she saw the way his gaze dipped to her neck as if he had sensed the up and down movement of her throat. ‘Wh-what do you mean?’ she said.
‘I want you, Charlotte as much as you want me,’ he said. ‘I am here in Sydney for the next month. During that time I want you to be my mistress.’
She reeled backwards in shock. ‘No!’
His dark brows rose imperiously. ‘No?’
‘N.O. No,’ she repeated. ‘Never.’
He paused for a moment, each second ticking by feeling like a hammer-blow to Charlotte’s skull. The tension was unbearable.
‘I met someone this evening,’ he dropped into the taut silence. ‘Someone who reminded me very much of you.’
Charlotte’s eyes flicked nervously to her evening bag before she could stop them.
‘It seems theft runs in your family,’ he continued.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘The police are searching for your sister as we speak,’ he informed her. ‘Once they locate her, it is up to me to decide whether or not to press charges.’
She stared at him speechlessly, her stomach folding over in panic.
‘Of course, if I do happen to press charges, she is likely to face trial, even be sent to prison,’ he continued in the same coolly detached tone.
Bought for Her Baby Page 2
