The Greek's Bought Bride

by Sharon Kendrick

  She hadn’t moved from where she’d been standing and he reached out to touch his fingertip against her mouth, instantly feeling it tremble. He could see her throat constricting and her eyes briefly closing as if she was trying to fight her own desire. And that turned him on even more, because he wasn’t used to women fighting their attraction to him. ‘You still want me, Tamsyn,’ he observed thickly. ‘And it’s the same for me. I want you so much that I’m aching just thinking about it.’

  He could see the uncertainty flickering in the depths of her green eyes. ‘Nobody’s denying the desire, Xan. Doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything about it though.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because....’ She moved away from him then, wriggling her shoulders restlessly as the little white wedding dress shimmied provocatively over her bare thighs. ‘It seems wrong to have sex just for the sake of it.’

  ‘Says who? Why does it bother you so much?’

  She stared at him and suddenly her eyes were very bright. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Oh, but it does. I’m interested in why you’re such a fundamentally old-fashioned young woman at heart.’

  Tamsyn gave a careless shrug which didn’t quite come off, because it was difficult to remain indifferent to her past when he was looking at her so piercingly.

  ‘I didn’t realise I was.’

  ‘Psychologists usually say it something to do with your parents and your upbringing,’ he said wryly. ‘So let’s start with that.’

  This is what she’d been trying to avoid telling him. But what difference did it make if she told him about her mother? This part of her life wasn’t the part she had buried in a deep, dark place which she never ventured near.

  ‘I don’t remember my birth mother, because I was just a baby when she gave me and Hannah up for adoption,’ she said baldly. ‘But nobody wanted to adopt us because we were too much of a handful. Or rather, I was. Apparently it’s quite common for abandoned babies to grow into troublesome children.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s why we put up with so much from our foster parents, despite all their failings.’ She shrugged as she met the question in his eyes. ‘There was a terrible atmosphere in the house, mainly because my foster father used the grocery money to fund his card games, or to buy dinner for one of his many mistresses. We were terrified that if we complained we’d get split up. And neither Hannah or I could bear the thought of that.’

  There was a silence during which she thought he was about to let it go. And didn’t she want him to let it go?

  ‘So what do you know about your birth mother, Tamsyn,’ he prompted softly.

  Tamsyn swallowed. If she told him he would judge her and she didn’t want to be judged. Because that’s what the girls at school had done, once they found out about her mum. They’d picked on her and bullied her and the strong skin she’d grown had been as a direct result of that. But talking about it would reinforce the certainty that there could never be any kind of future between her and Xan. And it might stop him from probing further—keeping him away from the stuff which was really unpalatable.

  She shrugged. ‘From what I understand, she was pretty liberal with her body. She liked men. A lot. And she wasn’t that careful about contraception. Hannah and I have different fathers and apparently there’s a younger brother out there, who we’ve never met.’

  ‘And your father?’

  ‘I never met him.’ She moved away. ‘And if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss it any more.’

  ‘Of course not.’ He nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming with perception. ‘It’s no wonder you hung onto your virginity for so long. No wonder that behind that spiky exterior beats the heart of someone who only ever wanted to be a good girl. But you don’t have to spend your whole life paying for the perceived sins of your mother, you know, Tamsyn. It won’t make the slightest difference if you deny yourself pleasure, just for the sake of it.’

  ‘You mean, now I’ve actually lost my innocence, I might as well capitalise on it?’

  ‘That’s one way of looking at it. If you could stop being so damned stubborn and think about the possibilities open to you, you might be able to see some of the benefits.’

  ‘What kind of benefits?’

  He gave a slow smile. ‘Well, for a start I could teach you how to enjoy your body. I could show you just how sublime sex can be. Wouldn’t you like that, Tamsyn? Wouldn’t you like to walk away from this marriage knowing how to please a man, and how best you like to be pleased?’

  Tamsyn shook her head because she hated his logic. For making it sound as if sex was just another new skill to learn—a bit like when she’d studied to be a silver-service waitress. His words reminded her that she was only here for a short while and soon she would be on her own again—back to her nomadic existence. It made sense to tell him no and to stick to her self-imposed celibacy.

  So why couldn’t she silence the memory of what it had been like to be naked in his arms...how he’d made her glow and shout with pleasure and then tremble helplessly in his arms? Why not concentrate on how empty she’d felt afterwards, when he’d left her and gone away? ‘It seems so...cold-blooded,’ she breathed.

  ‘Does it?’ he said softly, as he walked towards her.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘On the contrary,’ he husked, pulling her roughly into his arms. ‘I would describe this as nothing but hot-blooded.’

  The first kiss knocked some of the fight out of her and the second had her hungry for more. And when he cupped his trembling hand over her thrusting breast, Tamsyn moaned with pleasure.

  Because it felt good. Way too good to resist. She knew she should tell him no. That being physically close again would put her in danger of something she couldn’t understand. But how could she refuse something which felt like this? When he was sliding his hand up the filmy skirt of her dress and caressing the shivering skin of her inner thigh?

  ‘Xan,’ she moaned, as his finger edged inside her panties and she writhed with pleasure as he found her wet heat.

  ‘You like that,’ he observed thickly.

  She was too het-up to reply, but maybe she communicated her need to him. Maybe that was why he halted his intimate caress and picked her up, carrying her effortlessly over to the bed. He unzipped her dress and dropped it to the floor, before laying her on top of the petal-strewn cover.

  ‘I see you wore white lingerie for your wedding day,’ he observed thickly, tracing a slow finger over the snowy lace edge of her balcony bra. ‘How very traditional.’

  ‘It was the only underwear which didn’t show beneath my wedding dress,’ she said defiantly.

  Xan understood a little now of what had made her so defensive, but the thought left his mind the moment he brushed against the taut wetness of her panties, hearing her gasp as he encountered her sweet spot. He slid the zip of his jeans over his aching hardness and pulled off his own clothes before removing her underwear with hands which were inexplicably shaking, something which had never happened to him before. Yet as he climbed onto the bed beside her, he was forced to admit that this did feel different—and this time he couldn’t blame it on her innocence. Had all the fuss made by his staff about their mock wedding somehow got to him? As if some of their thankful celebration had seeped into his system, kicking his habitual cynicism into touch, making what was happening between him and the little redhead seem especially intense.

  Never had a woman seemed so responsive to his touch. She shivered as he reacquainted himself with every inch of her skin, his lips hungrily kissing her neck and breasts and belly as he began to finger her. He played with her until she was writhing and gasping his name, her fingernails clawing frantically at his shoulders. He remembered thinking that she was going to mark him and make him bleed—and that he didn’t care.

  His gasps became urgent as he entered her and she cried out with each deep thrust, soft
thighs wrapped tightly around his back. And nothing had ever felt this good, thought Xan with delirious pleasure. Nothing. He wanted it to last and last but she was too close, and so was he. He splayed his fingers over her peaking nipples as she began to spasm around him, and his own orgasm hit him like a speed train.

  On and on it went, until at last he collapsed against her shoulder with his lips pressed against her damp and tumbled curls. It was a while before he could bring himself to withdraw from her, but just as soon as he did, her tiny fingers curled intimately around him and he could feel himself hardening again beneath her light touch. He slid inside her for a second time and before too long she was bucking wildly beneath him and crying out his name. Soon after his third orgasm, he lay stroking her head and realising that for the next two weeks of his honeymoon, it was just going to be him and Tamsyn.

  He stared down at the satisfied slant of her lips. At the lazy flutter of her eyelashes as she gave a sleepy little sigh of contentment. She snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm and Xan felt the automatic stir of overpowering lust and something else. Something he couldn’t seem to define....

  Maybe it was panic.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE MORNING SUN drifted in through the open windows of the bedroom but Tamsyn kept her eyes tightly shut, listening to the even sound of Xan’s breathing. She needed to get her thoughts straight before he awoke. She needed to get her mask firmly in place, knowing he would baulk if he ever realised the truth. That their marriage of convenience was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

  How the hell had it happened? At what point during this crazy honeymoon, had she started to care for her husband in a way which suddenly seemed unstoppable? She risked turning her head, to see his ruffled black hair lying against the pillow. Was she such a sucker for affection, that she’d fallen for a man just because he clearly enjoyed having sex with her and they spent long hours romping in bed together?

  She swallowed. No. It was more than that. Xan could be kind, she had discovered. She’d seen that in the way he was with his staff, but he was also kind to her—and interested. In fact, he’d surprised her by wanting to know her views on all kinds of things. Things which nobody had ever bothered asking her about before—like politics and space travel and global warming. And Tamsyn had discovered how flattering it was when a powerful and successful man elicited the opinion of someone who didn’t have a formal exam qualification to her name.

  Nearly two weeks into her marriage and she had turned from being a reluctant bride to somebody who found joy in pretty much every moment she spent with her husband. But at least Xan didn’t have a clue how she was feeling, because concealment was something she excelled at, when she put her mind to it. She’d had a lifetime’s practice in emotional subterfuge. She might now want him, but he certainly didn’t want her. That had never been part of the deal. No man had ever wanted her, she reminded herself grimly. Not even her own father.

  This marriage couldn’t last. It was never intended to last. And the deeper she fell for him, the more painful their split was going to be...

  Dark lashes fluttered open and Tamsyn saw the cobalt gleam from between Xan’s shuttered eyes. He gave a lazy stretch and yawned, before pulling her against his warm nakedness and kissing the top of her ruffled curls.

  ‘And what would you like to do today, sizighos mou?’ His voice deepened as his hand slipped beneath the sheet and he began to massage one erect nipple. ‘Since it’s the last day of our honeymoon.’

  Tamsyn bit her lip, wishing he hadn’t reminded her, especially since tomorrow was the day of their post-wedding party and one which his father had now announced he would definitely be attending. She wasn’t looking forward to all his friends giving her the once-over and finding her wanting. Her thick skin seemed to have thinned these last few days and suddenly the thought of having to play the unsuitable wife was filling her with dread.

  ‘We could spend the day on the beach,’ Xan was saying, stroking the flat of his hand over her belly.

  ‘Beach sounds good,’ she agreed.

  ‘Picnic or restaurant lunch?’

  She tried to summon up some enthusiasm. ‘Picnic, I think.’

  ‘Relios.’ He gave a slow flicker of a smile and bent his mouth to her nipple. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

  Reluctantly, she pulled away. ‘I’ll go and get showered—’

  ‘Hey,’ he protested, his hand reaching out to capture her waist. ‘What’s the hurry?’

  Tamsyn’s answering smile was tight as she wriggled free, because the last thing she needed was another example of an easy compatibility which meant nothing. ‘I need to speak to Rhea about lunch,’ she insisted, jumping out of bed before he could distract her again. ‘If we’re not careful, we’ll end up spending the day in bed without actually having our picnic.’

  ‘And would that be such a crime?’ he grumbled. ‘Isn’t that what honeymoons are supposed to be about.’

  ‘Today it would,’ she said briskly. ‘I need to speak to Elena about flowers for the party and to Rhea about all sorts of boring things, including canapés.’

  There was a moment of silence. ‘How quickly you have adapted,’ he observed silkily, with a note of something she didn’t recognise in his voice. ‘You are beginning to sound like a real wife, Tamsyn.’

  ‘And we wouldn’t want that, would we?’ she questioned brightly. ‘Don’t worry, Xan. I’ll have re-adopted my wild-child persona by tomorrow. The shortest dress, the biggest hair and the most make-up. That should do the trick, don’t you think? I can’t wait to see the reaction of your friends and colleagues.’ She forced a smile. ‘And now I really must go and shower.’

  Moodily Xan leaned back against the pillows and watched his wife sashay across the bedroom towards the bathroom, the globes of her buttocks paler than the tanned perfection of her shapely legs. Frustration heated his blood and his erection throbbed uncomfortably between his legs. Why hadn’t he overridden her desire to help with the party and encouraged her to give into a far more satisfying kind of desire instead?

  He was still engaged in silent contemplation when she returned, dabbing drops of moisture from her dewy body with a towel before slipping on a tiny yellow bikini, which she covered up with a green cotton dress.

  His groin ached as he watched her. He had scheduled this honeymoon to give credibility to their whirlwind union, with the party tacked onto the end to indicate a return to normal life. He had planned to use this opportunity to slake himself of his seemingly inexhaustible appetite for his new wife, before she departed from his life for ever with her divorce settlement clutched tightly in her hand.

  But his anticipation of all the sex he wanted had been tempered by caution, because he wasn’t used to having a woman around full-time. Even during his longer relationships, he rarely stayed with a lover longer than twenty-four hours at a stretch, because by then he’d usually reached his boredom threshold. The thought of fourteen whole days and nights with one person had filled him with panic and he’d imagined he would be climbing the walls by day three. He’d planned to make an urgent visit to his office in Athens on some hastily constructed urgent business if necessary, using the trip as a badly disguised means of escape.

  Only it hadn’t turned out like that. He hadn’t gone near his computer—not once—and the feeling of being trapped simply hadn’t materialised. It turned out that Tamsyn liked her own space just as much as he did.

  ‘Of course,’ she had informed him carelessly when one day, frustrated at finding her curled up in the garden reading some lurid crime novel, he had enquired rather acidly whether she’d always been quite so independent. ‘It’s the way I was raised.’

  Xan frowned. Was it contrary of him to find himself resenting the fact that she seemed intent on racing through the pile of novels she’d brought with her from England? Or excitedly informing him that his infinity pool gave her the ideal
opportunity to perfect her breaststroke? And what about the afternoon when he’d fallen asleep beneath a pine tree and she had slipped away. He’d awoken up and gone looking for her and found her in the kitchen with Rhea, who was showing her how to make baklava which Tamsyn seemed to be alternating with colouring in a picture with Gia’s young daughter Maria. This scene of domestic bliss should have spooked him but it hadn’t, mainly because she had looked up at him with those big green eyes, and smiled and at that moment he had felt completely enslaved by her.

  Xan scowled as he pushed away the rumpled sheet and got out of bed. The sooner he got back to work the better, he thought grimly. Work and distance would allow him to put this whole crazy marriage in perspective and to see it for what it really was.

  Out on the sun-washed terrace, they breakfasted on fruit and honeyed yoghurt, served with strong black coffee. Afterwards Xan sailed his yacht to a sheltered cove—a favourite place whose inaccessibility always guaranteed privacy. Beneath the deep blue sky they spent the morning swimming and snorkelling in the crystal-clear waters and afterwards drank homemade iced lemonade. But although the food Rhea had stowed away in a cool box was carefully unpacked and looked delicious, he noticed Tamsyn seemed as disinterested in their picnic lunch as he was.

  ‘Not hungry?’ he murmured as he lay back on the soft sand.

  She sat, ramrod-straight, looking out to sea. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Not for food?’

  She cleared her throat. ‘Something like that,’ she agreed reluctantly, as if she resented his perception.

  He smiled as a whispered fingertip down the entire length of her spine soon had the tension leaching from her shoulders and the touch of his lips which followed made her give an impatient little wriggle. He brushed his hand against her breasts and saw her lips open with hunger, clamping shut afterwards when he teased her by moving his fingers away from the thrusting nipple. He waited until he sensed complete readiness and then pulled her down next to him.