An heir for her enemy…

Ten years ago, innocent Iolanthe Petrakis surrendered to the most ruthless tycoon in Athens. Alekos Demetriou gave her the one and only sinfully seductive night of her life. But when he discovered she was the daughter of his enemy, he cast her out…before Iolanthe could reveal she was pregnant with his child!

Now, with her family’s company in peril, Iolanthe’s forced to reveal her most precious secret to her nemesis. When he learns the truth, Alekos declares he will legitimize his son and, to Iolanthe’s horror, informs her they will marry!

‘You do realise that Niko is the heir not just to Petra Innovation but Demetriou Tech?’ Alekos met her gaze, his eyes like burning embers, singeing her.

Shocked realisation sliced through her. ‘You would recognise him as your heir...?’

‘I don’t have another.’

‘But you might marry,’ Iolanthe protested. ‘You might have other children—’

‘I will marry,’ Alekos affirmed. ‘And I will have other children. But Niko is my firstborn son and he will be my heir.’

The coolly stated fact that he would marry put both Iolanthe’s head and heart in a spin—which was ridiculous, of course. Alekos was thirty-six years old. Of course he would marry at some point—and probably soon. Maybe he even had a woman already, waiting in the wings, ready and eager to become Kyria Demetriou. It had nothing to do with her.

‘You sound very sure,’ she said after a moment. ‘You haven’t even met Niko.’

‘I know he’s my son.’

Iolanthe tried to gather her scattered thoughts. ‘But what about this potential bride of yours? She might want the children you have together to—’

‘My potential bride—’ Alekos cut across her, his voice like a blade ‘—will want Niko as my heir.’

Iolanthe stared at him, flummoxed. ‘How—?’

‘Because,’ he continued implacably, ‘my prospective bride—my only bride—is you.’

Secret Heirs of Billionaires

There are some things money can’t buy...

Living life at lightning pace, these magnates are no strangers to stakes at their highest. It seems they’ve got it all... That is until they find out that there’s an unplanned item to add to their list of accomplishments!

Achieved:

1. Successful business empire

2. Beautiful women in their bed

3. An heir to bear their name...?

Though every billionaire needs to leave his legacy in safe hands, discovering a secret heir shakes up his carefully orchestrated plan in more ways than one!

Uncover their secrets in:

Unwrapping the Castelli Secret by Caitlin Crews

Brunetti’s Secret Son by Maya Blake

The Secret to Marrying Marchesi by Amanda Cinelli

Look out for more stories in the Secret Heirs of Billionaires series coming soon!

Demetriou Demands His Child

Kate Hewitt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

After spending three years as a die-hard New Yorker, KATE HEWITT now lives in a small village in the English Lake District with her husband, their five children and a golden retriever. In addition to writing intensely emotional stories she loves reading, baking and playing chess with her son—she has yet to win against him, but she continues to try. Learn more about Kate at kate-hewitt.com.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Secret Heirs of Billionaires

Title Page

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

CHAPTER ONE

TONIGHT WAS FOR MAGIC. Iolanthe Petrakis gazed at her reflection in the cheval mirror of her childhood bedroom, her mouth curving into a smile of delighted expectation. Her new gown of silvery-white satin rippled over her body, flaring out from her hips and ending in frothy ruffles around her ankles. It was a fairy-tale dress, sparkling whenever she moved, fit for a princess. And tonight she felt like a princess, Cinderella poised for her first ball. She was determined to enjoy every moment.

A light knock sounded on the door. ‘Iolanthe?’ her father, Talos Petrakis, called. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Yes.’ Iolanthe smoothed her hand over her shining dark hair, drawn up into an elegant chignon by the housekeeper, Amara. Her heart thudded with both excitement and nerves. Taking a deep breath, she turned from the mirror and opened the door to her father.

Talos surveyed her silently for a moment, and Iolanthe held her breath, hoping he was pleased with her appearance. After subjecting her to a lifetime of seclusion at his countryside villa, he was finally allowing her an evening’s entertainment and pleasure. She couldn’t bear for it to be taken away.

‘Is it all right?’ she asked when the silence stretched on. She smoothed her hands down the shiny fabric. ‘Amara helped pick it...’

‘It is suitable.’ Talos gave one terse nod of acceptance, which filled Iolanthe with relief. Her father had never been one for physical affection or effusive praise; she’d got used to it. A nod was enough. ‘You must conduct yourself with propriety at all times,’ he added, his face set into stern lines.

‘Of course, Papa.’ When had she ever done otherwise? But then, she’d never had a chance to do anything but. Tonight, perhaps... She smothered a mischievous smile, not wanting her father to guess her thoughts. In any case, she’d hardly get up to much. But a little adventure, a little excitement...she craved that, after so many years of solitude.

‘Your mother would smile to see you now,’ Talos said gruffly, and Iolanthe’s heart gave a painful little twist. Althea Petrakis had died from cancer when Iolanthe had been only four years old. The few memories she had of her mother were hazy, no more than a whiff of perfume, the touch of a soft hand. Since her death, Talos had withdrawn from family life and immersed himself in his business. If Althea had lived, Iolanthe had often wondered sadly, would her father have been different, more present, more affectionate? As it was, she only saw him every few months or so, and the visits were short, no more than inspections to make sure she was toeing the line.

‘As beautiful as you look,’ Talos continued, ‘you need something more.’ He withdrew a small velvet box from the pocket of his tuxedo jacket. ‘This is for a woman full grown, ready for a husband.’

‘A husband...’ Iolanthe didn’t want to think about that. She knew she would have to marry a man of her father’s choosing at some point, but tonight she wanted to think of adventure. And yes, maybe a little of romance, but not marriage. Not duty.

‘Open it,’ Talos commanded, and all worries flew from her head as she flipped the lid of the box and gazed in admiration at the diamond teardrop earrings nestled within. ‘They’re beautiful.’ She’d never had any jewellery of her own; she’d never needed any, living a secluded life in her father’s villa in the country.

‘There’s more.’ From another pocket Talos withdrew a matching necklace with three exquisite teardrop-shaped diamonds. ‘This was your mother’s. She wore it on our wedding day.’

Iolanthe took the necklace reverently, her fingers smoothing over the polished stones as she imagined her mother once touching them in a similar way. ‘Thank you, Papa,’ she whispered, tears choking her voice. He’d never given her anything like this before, never shown her so much affection.

‘I was just waiting for the right moment to give them to you.’ Talos cleared his throat, uncomfortable with her obvious emotion. ‘It is not every day a young woman attends her first ball. She must be outfitted properly.’

Iolanthe put the earrings in and then turned so her back was to her father. ‘Will you fasten the necklace?’

‘Of course.’ Her father did the clasp and then rested his hands lightly on his daughter’s shoulders. ‘Lukas will accompany you tonight, and keep you safe. Make sure you show him the proper attention.’

Iolanthe had met Lukas, her father’s Head of Tech, a few times, and the thought of spending the entire evening with such a stuffed shirt made her insides wither in disappointment. ‘I thought you would accompany me.’

‘I have business to attend to. Balls such as these are times to network, not just socialise.’ He stepped back, his expression stern once more. ‘Lukas is an appropriate companion for you. I am allowing you to attend your first ball because you are old enough, and it is time you had a husband. Lukas would be a suitable choice.’

Lukas? She couldn’t imagine anything worse. Yet Iolanthe recognised the hard line of her father’s mouth, the flat black of his eyes. She could not argue with him now. Wordlessly she nodded even as a spark of rebellion lit her soul. This was her first ball, perhaps even her only ball, and she had no intention of spending the entire evening, much less the rest of her life, with dull-as-ditchwater Lukas Callos.

* * *

Alekos Demetriou stepped into the ballroom, light from the many crystal chandeliers glancing off diamond-spangled women and black-jacketed men. The best of Athens’ society had gathered tonight for the city’s first social event of the season, and this time Alekos had been included. A year ago his name would not have been on the exclusive guest list; no one had even known it. But now, after years of setbacks he could hardly bear to think about, he was finally starting to make his way and establish both his business and his name. He had every right to be here, rubbing elbows with the rich and entitled, and he intended to enjoy the privilege to the full.

Plucking a glass of champagne from one of the circulating trays, Alekos narrowed his eyes as he looked around the room, searching, as he always was, for the jovial face of his enemy. Talos Petrakis, the man who had taken everything from him, and done it with a smile on his face, presenting to the world the false front of a benevolent businessman, a genial entrepreneur.

Just the thought of Petrakis made Alekos’s insides clench as bitterness surged through him, corroding the remaining fragments of his soul. In those first years after Petrakis’s betrayal he’d fought against the overwhelming emotion, the fury and despair and hurt he’d felt at the older man’s devious actions. Then he’d realised that he could channel that emotion, use it for his own good. For the last four years he’d forged those toxic feelings in a furnace of determination, turning them into a steely, unrelenting drive to succeed. And it had worked.

He was finally reaching a point where he could actually consider how to enact revenge on the man who had stolen everything from him. Coming face-to-face with Petrakis after four long years would be the first step. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the man anywhere.

A flash of white, a crystalline sparkle, caught the corner of his eye and Alekos turned and glimpsed a young woman at the far end of the ballroom. Her slender body was encased in a white gown beaded with diamantés, her face hidden behind an ivory demi-mask like those many of the women wore this evening. Tonight was meant to be a costume ball, but few took it beyond a mask made elegant with jewels, feathers, and silk.

The woman moved, and Alekos admired the way the light gleamed off her blue-black hair, touched the round curve of her cheek and the slender hollow of her throat. She looked pure and lovely in comparison to the more jaded women who circulated the room, affecting poses of boredom. In contrast this woman glowed, like a luminescent, newly discovered pearl nestled amidst a thousand tarnished gems. Her eyes were wide as she gazed around the ballroom, drinking everything in as if she were viewing Aladdin’s cave of wonders. Alekos couldn’t remember ever looking or feeling that way, as if life was full of possibility, of wonder. Maybe he had as a small boy, before life had shown him how hard and grim it could be. How indifferent and cruel people could be.

Despite her obvious interest in her surroundings, the young woman was hugging the wall, too shy or perhaps simply content to be a mere spectator of events. Interest sharpened to a finely honed point inside Alekos and he started towards her. He didn’t know who she was, but he intended to find out.

‘Alekos.’ A meaty hand clapped him on the shoulder and Alekos turned, schooling his expression into an easy smile as he greeted Spiro Anastos, a corpulent CEO who had been one of the first to use his content management software system. ‘It is good to see you here.’

‘Spiro.’ Alekos shook the man’s hand. ‘It’s good to be here.’

‘You will have fun tonight, eh? My Sofia always says you work too hard.’

‘Perhaps I do.’ For the last four years he’d done nothing but work, regularly pulling twenty-hour days and going home only to eat and sleep for a few brief hours, all in order to establish his business and his name. And it had worked. He was twenty-six years old and CEO of his own company that was growing fast.

‘Tonight is for pleasure,’ Spiro stated. ‘Drink, eat, dance.’ His eyes sparkled as he threw his arms wide. ‘Make love!’

Alekos gave a smiling nod as Spiro let out a belly-deep chuckle. Clearly the older man had been indulging in the first of his commands, and Alekos didn’t begrudge him it.

‘I’ll bear your words in mind,’ he murmured and with a nod of farewell he shouldered past Spiro, intent on finding the woman who had captivated him from a distance.

* * *

Iolanthe stood on the edge of the ballroom, her mask held up to her face. She’d managed to slip from Lukas when he’d been waylaid by some businessmen, and she had no desire for him to find her again. She’d already endured several dances with Lukas; his hands had been damp, his steps mechanical, and his halting conversation had been about computer software. But at least the music had been lovely and Iolanthe had enjoyed the way her skirt had swirled about her as they’d moved across the floor, the music swelling and crashing over them in a symphonic tide.

Maybe she would dance again tonight. Maybe someone else, someone who could actually look her in the eye and make conversation, would ask her.

She pictured it now: a handsome man striding purposefully across the floor, intent firing his eyes, his mouth curving into a smile of sensual promise as he held out his hand...

A flush spread through her body at the thought, and Iolanthe laughed softly, amused and embarrassed by her own girlish fantasy. Most likely she would stand here in the corner for most of the ball, avoiding Lukas and staying in the shadows, awed by the older and more sophisticated women who tossed back their perfectly groomed heads and uttered tinkling laughs. Well, she could still enjoy that. Just looking at all the women in their gorgeous ball gowns was a delight, especially after a lifetime spent in virtual isolation.

‘Good evening.’

Iolanthe stiffened as a figure suddenly loomed in front of her, his voice low and authoritative and strangely sensual. It took her stunned brain a moment to realise he was actually addressing her, and then another few seconds to respond.

‘Good...good evening!’ She’d instinctively pressed her mask closer to her face, its wire frame nearly cutting into her skin, and now she blinked and peered through the feathered eyeholes to get a better look at the man who had approached her. He was as tall and dark as anything out of her naïve fantasies, she realised with a rush of both excitement and alarm. Well over six feet, the stark lines of his tuxedo jacket emphasising his broad shoulders and impressive chest. Eyes the colour of topaz surveyed her with thorough consideration, while perfectly defined lips that could have graced a Grecian statue curved in blatant male appreciation.

Iolanthe felt as if she’d tumbled down a rabbit hole, into some bizarre and amazing alternate reality. She’d been imagining such a scenario as this, but she’d never thought it would actually happen, and certainly not with a man who looked like this one. Iolanthe couldn’t decide if he looked more like the hero or villain of one of the romance novels her housekeeper Amara sometimes slipped her. Maybe both.

‘I noticed you from across the room,’ the man said, thrilling her all the more. ‘And I decided that I had to come and meet you.’

‘Really?’ Iolanthe cringed inwardly at the surprise audible in her voice, but the man merely smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek, making him seem slightly less fearsome.

‘Really,’ he assured her. ‘You looked like you were enjoying yourself here in the corner, watching everyone.’

‘I’ve never been to a ball before,’ Iolanthe admitted, and then cringed again at how young and gauche she must sound. This man, with his darkly compelling good looks, was going to regret so much as crossing a room to meet her. The truth was she had no idea what to say to him, no experience of men or flirting or life at all. And she was awestruck. Who wouldn’t be, though, with a man as powerfully charismatic and attractive as this one? She was tempted to touch him to see if he was real.

‘Perhaps you would tell me your name?’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Flushing, Iolanthe stumbled on. ‘It’s Iolanthe. And you are...?’

‘Alekos. Alekos Demetriou.’ His smile curved deeper, his gaze flicking over her in what even she in her inexperience knew was masculine assessment. She wondered whether he liked what he saw and realised that she hoped he did. ‘Would you care to dance?’

‘Oh...’ Shock made her simply stare for a few delighted seconds. He’d actually asked her to dance, and tonight was for magic. She’d wished for magic in her bedroom, had dared to dream about it, and now it was actually real. The whole world seemed to sparkle, promise shimmering in a haze of possibility. Here was her adventure, her excitement. Her romance.

‘I...’ For a second Iolanthe considered her father, his stern instructions for her to behave properly and stay with Lukas. But what was the harm in a dance? That was why she’d come to the ball, was it not? She had the rest of her life to be the dutiful daughter, the obedient wife.

Tonight she wanted to live. The spark of rebellion that had lit her soul hours ago now burst into flame.

‘Well?’ Amusement laced Alekos’s voice and he arched one eyebrow, his hand still outstretched, long, tapered fingers reaching towards her.

‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘Yes, I would love to dance.’

* * *

Alekos’s insides jolted as Iolanthe’s palm slid across his, his whole body suffused with a sudden, surprising desire.

He’d started to regret engaging the young ingénue in conversation from almost the moment they’d met—she was clearly very young and even more innocent. And also beautiful—even with the demi-mask pressed to her face, Alekos could appreciate her delicate bone structure and flawless skin, the curves of her cheek and neck graceful and pure. From behind the diamanté-encrusted mask, eyes the colour of moonlight on water regarded him with heartbreaking honesty. Iolanthe, it seemed, had not yet learned to dissemble. And although she was young her body possessed womanly curves, and the sparkling white satin dress hugged each one lovingly.

Her silver-grey eyes widened as Alekos drew her towards him, and he knew she too felt that jolt of desire that had unsettled him. His work had not allowed him time for a social life, and so he’d had his sexual needs met in the most expedient way possible—with a series of one-night stands or brief affairs with experienced women, most of them as jaded as himself, none of whom were looking for more than simple physical need quickly sated. Iolanthe definitely did not fit into that category.

One dance, Alekos told himself. One short dance and then he would smile and walk away from a woman he had no business being interested in.

The band struck up a tune as Alekos guided Iolanthe to the dance floor. She came gracefully, her head held high, her eyes shining like silver stars. And when Alekos turned and brought her body in close and exquisite contact with his, she moulded herself naturally to him, her hips and breasts nudging him as they both swayed.

Sweat prickled on his forehead. Desire roared through his veins, a surging tidal wave of need that shocked him with its intensity. He’d never reacted to a woman so instantly and overwhelmingly and all he could think was, Why her? Why now?

She was beautiful, yes, and charming, if a little youthful and shy. There was an innate loveliness to her face, and he liked the openness he saw in her eyes as she glanced around the room, a small, wistful smile curving her lush pink mouth. But to feel this way...to imagine plucking the pins from her hair and letting the dark locks tumble down her shoulders, to envision plundering that pink mouth with his own, fitting her hips snugly against his...

Silently Alekos swore. The last thing he needed to do was fan that dangerous flame by picturing such things. He tried for a polite smile instead.

‘So, Iolanthe, are you from Athens?’

‘My father has a house here, but I’ve lived most of my life in the country.’ She tilted her head up to smile at him, her nose wrinkling and a new, wry expression lighting her eyes. She still held the mask to her face like the security blanket it so obviously was; her other hand rested lightly on his shoulder, a butterfly’s touch. Alekos had already fitted his palm to the delicate dip of her waist, his fingers fanning out along her hip. He could feel the warmth of her through the thin satin of her dress, felt her tremble slightly in his loose embrace.

‘The country?’ he prompted, determined to keep the polite chit-chat going and in doing so cool down his libido.

‘My father’s estate,’ she clarified with another appealing wrinkle of her nose.

‘Ah.’ A rich young heiress, no doubt, kept behind high walls until she was brought out to be admired and duly married off.

Iolanthe laughed, the sound surprisingly low and throaty, and filled with genuine humour. ‘Yes, it is as boring as it sounds. I’ve been packed off to the country, practically wrapped in cotton wool. And now I suppose you will think me a dull conversationalist indeed.’

‘Not at all,’ Alekos returned smoothly. ‘I find you refreshing.’

‘Which makes me sound like a drink of water.’

‘Or the finest champagne.’ His gaze met hers and he saw awareness and heat flicker through her eyes. Why was he flirting with her? He didn’t seem to be able to resist. ‘Will you return to the country after this ball?’

‘Almost certainly, but I’d like to stay in Athens.’ Her face softened, her gaze distant. ‘I’d like to do something.’ A tiny sigh escaped her. ‘I feel like I’ve spent my whole life waiting. Have you ever felt like that?’ She lifted her gaze to his, and Alekos started at the wistful openness he saw there, the vulnerability and honesty he saw that he always fought so hard to hide in himself.

‘Sometimes,’ he allowed. The last four years had been a slow burn of waiting. Revenge was a long game. But he had no intention of telling Iolanthe any of that. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he asked. Marriage, no doubt, to someone dully appropriate.

‘For excitement,’ Iolanthe answered immediately, and Alekos heard both longing and eagerness in her voice. ‘Adventure—it doesn’t have to be something big. I’m not looking to scale mountains, or—I don’t know—pan for gold.’ She laughed, and again that throaty sound had desire sweeping through him, heat pooling in his groin. ‘Now I really sound like a fool.’

‘You don’t,’ Alekos assured her. She sounded young and hopeful and completely sincere. It was a surprisingly heady combination. ‘But what kind of adventure do you mean?’

‘Something...something that makes life worthwhile. Important, even.’ Iolanthe’s voice turned determined as her hand clenched instinctively on his shoulder. Alekos felt a corresponding surge of protectiveness that he barely understood. Yes, she was young and impressionable and naïve, but she was also a stranger. Why did he care? Why did it alarm him to think of her fragile dreams being shattered by the harsh realities of life? Just as his had once been, a cruel blow had left him reeling for years.

‘Important?’ he prompted, an edge entering his voice. Dancing with this wisp of a girl, hearing her whisper her dreams, was presenting him with far more of both an emotional and physical challenge than he’d ever anticipated. He wanted her in ways he couldn’t even begin to contemplate. He wanted to make her laugh again, and he wanted to kiss that soft pink mouth.

‘I suppose everyone wants to feel important,’ Iolanthe answered with a dismissive shrug of her slim shoulders. ‘And it’s not that I want to be important myself... I couldn’t care less about that. But I want to do something that makes a difference to somebody, even if it’s just something small. I want to live, not just watch other people do it, my nose pressed up against the glass.’ She laughed, and this time the sound was tinged with bitter resignation. ‘But what does it matter? I’m only likely to end up married.’

The simply stated truth, one he’d already arrived at himself, now had him tensing in instinctive resistance. ‘Why do you say that?’

She tilted her head to look up at him, the sparkle leaving her eyes, her mouth flattening. ‘I’m twenty years old and my father intends to choose my husband. The only reason I’m at this ball is to show myself off to suitable men.’ She practically spat the words out, her hand clenching on his shoulder.

‘Does he have one in mind?’ Alekos asked, hating the thought.

‘Maybe.’ Her expression tightened and she glanced away. ‘But I want to have some say in the matter.’

‘As you should.’

‘I don’t know if my father agrees.’ She sighed, the sound too weary for a young woman whose life should stretch ahead of her with nothing but promise and possibility. ‘But let’s not talk about that. I can’t bear to think about it, not when tonight is the only time I might be able to have fun and enjoy myself with the most handsome man at the ball.’ Her smile turned deliberately coquettish, and he saw the humour in her eyes, the acknowledgement that she was flirting shamelessly. It made him smile.

‘Indeed,’ he murmured, and whirled her about the dance floor.

‘I must sound ridiculous,’ Iolanthe said with another little laugh, her head tilted back so she could look up at him. ‘Wittering on about being important and changing things.’

‘You don’t sound ridiculous.’ Hadn’t he once been the same, burning with ambition, flying high on hope? Then he’d come crashing to the ground, and now the only thing he burned for was revenge. ‘I think everyone wishes to make a difference in life,’ he told her.

‘And you?’ She glanced up at him, her expression all open curiosity. ‘How would you like to make a difference?’

Alekos hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. ‘I want to see justice done,’ he said finally, for that was certainly true. He wanted Talos Petrakis to pay for his crimes.

Iolanthe gave him a small smile. ‘That certainly seems a worthy goal. Far more than I’ll ever achieve, I’m sure.’

‘Who knows what you might do?’ Alekos returned. ‘You are young, with your whole life in front of you. You don’t have to marry if you don’t want to.’

She pursed her lips, considering his statement with perhaps too much seriousness. Who was he to encourage this naïve socialite to rebel? ‘What would I do if I didn’t marry?’

‘You could get a job. Go to university, even. What subjects did you like at school?’

‘I was tutored at home, but I always enjoyed art.’ She laughed. ‘Not that I possess enough talent to become a proper artist.’

‘You never know.’

‘You seem very optimistic.’

He laughed, the sound harsh. That was one adjective that would never be attributed to him. ‘I just don’t like to see a young woman such as yourself closing down all her possibilities.’

She smiled wryly. ‘I’m sure I seem very young and naïve compared to most of the women here.’ She nodded towards the crowd of sophisticated guests.

‘Most of the women here are jaded,’ Alekos said. ‘You are a breath of fresh air.’ Although he’d intended the words as mere flattery, he realised they held truth. Iolanthe’s inability to dissemble, the very innocence that had put him off, now intrigued and intoxicated him. He was disillusioned himself; he no longer trusted or cared for anyone. What would it be like to feel as Iolanthe yearned to, as if the world held nothing but possibility and hope? Once he’d felt it, as a child, but it seemed so long ago now he could barely remember the emotion, the happiness. He realised he didn’t want Iolanthe to lose her optimism, no matter what the future held for her. He didn’t want the flame he saw burning inside her to be extinguished so quickly on the altar of familial duty.

The music ended and yet Alekos was loath to walk away from Iolanthe as he’d intended to do earlier. And so, against all better judgment, he found himself asking instead, ‘Would you care to get some air on the terrace?’

‘A real breath of fresh air?’ Iolanthe teased, her eyes sparkling. Alekos conceded her point with a rueful nod, holding his breath as he waited for her acquiescence.

Iolanthe’s gaze skirted the ballroom before returning to rest on him. She squared her slender shoulders as if making a decision. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I would like that very much.’

* * *

Magic. Everything about this encounter with Alekos Demetriou felt magical, surreal, as if Iolanthe would wake up at any moment and find herself back in her bedroom, the evening yet to begin.

She’d enjoyed their conversation, had found her insecurities falling away as Alekos had looked at her with such blatant male admiration, but, more importantly, had listened to what she’d said—and had seemed to understand. His words thrilled her, because they made her wonder and even hope that there might be more to her life than what her father demanded and everyone expected—marriage to a man of his choosing, most likely Lukas Callos.

But she wouldn’t think of that now. Alekos took her hand as he led her towards a set of French windows that had been left open to the evening air, and the slide of his palm across hers made her insides quake like jelly. Was it normal to react to a handsome man like this? She certainly hadn’t reacted to Lukas this way. And she barely knew Alekos. In truth she didn’t know him at all. Yet his smile made her sway, and the touch of his hand set her heart to hammering, giving her a new, buoyant sense of hope. How was it possible?

Alekos pulled aside the window’s gauzy curtain as Iolanthe stepped through onto the terrace. She rested one hand on the stone balustrade, breathing in the warm, dusty air as the sounds of the night settled around her—a distant beeping of a car’s horn, the strains of music from the ballroom. A woman’s laughter, low and throaty, and a man’s answering murmur.

The nape of her neck prickled as Alekos joined her, his shoulder nudging hers as they both looked out at the night. The Acropolis, lit up against a dark sky, was a stunning backdrop to the narrow streets and terraced buildings of the Plaka.

‘So I don’t actually know anything about you,’ Iolanthe said with a little laugh. ‘Besides your desire for justice.’

Alekos slid her a sideways glance. ‘What would you like to know?’

Everything. Anything. They’d shared only one dance, and yet this man captivated and enchanted her. ‘You live in Athens?’

‘Yes.’

‘What do you do? For work, I mean?’

‘I run my own business, Demetriou Tech.’

‘Oh. That sounds...’ Iolanthe cast for an appropriate word and came up only with ‘...interesting.’

‘It is.’

She thought she heard amusement in his voice, and realised he was probably laughing at her. And she couldn’t even blame him. ‘I don’t know much about IT.’ Even though her father’s company was IT-based. Talos didn’t believe women had any place in the business world; he’d always told her he wanted to shelter her from such concerns.

‘I wonder what you will do with your life,’ Alekos murmured, ‘now that you’re waiting for it to begin?’

For a few dazzling seconds Iolanthe imagined other possibilities than marriage: university, work, even travel. ‘I’d like to see more of the world,’ she said recklessly. ‘Go to Paris, maybe, or New York.’ She pictured herself along the Seine or in Greenwich Village, working on charcoal sketches and soaking up the atmosphere. She might as well imagine being on Mars. ‘I want to see and do things...experience life for myself rather than just watch from afar.’

‘Are you experiencing life now?’ Alekos asked softly. His fingers brushed her cheek, making her shiver at the unexpected caress, its startling yet brief intimacy. She felt as if he’d torched her insides, everything going up in a whoosh.

‘Yes...’ she whispered. She wanted him to touch her again, craved it with a sudden and overwhelming intensity. ‘I think,’ she said with a nervous little laugh, ‘this is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.’

Alekos surveyed her with eyes like burning gold; Iolanthe trembled when she saw his gaze drop to her mouth. ‘Then perhaps you need a bit more excitement,’ he murmured, and then he kissed her.

CHAPTER TWO

HE WAS INSANE. Clearly crazy to kiss this utter innocent, and yet from the moment Alekos’s lips touched Iolanthe’s he knew he was lost. The sweetness of her response was his undoing; she tensed briefly under his kiss, clearly shocked, one hand fluttering up to clutch at his lapel, and then her mouth opened under his like a flower and he drank of its sweet nectar.

Distantly he heard her gasp in surprise as his tongue swept into her mouth, claiming its softness. Her hand clenched his jacket and the mask dropped from her other hand as her body yielded to his.

Alekos was barely aware of his actions as he backed her up against the balustrade, his hands sliding down the slippery satin of her dress to anchor on her hips and bring her even closer to his arousal.

Another gasp, and far too belatedly he realised what he was doing, practically thrusting his hips against hers. He tore his mouth from hers with a gasp of his own, swearing under his breath as he eased away from her.

‘Iolanthe...’ She looked up at him, her mouth swollen, her eyes dazed. Without her mask in place she was even lovelier, her skin like ivory blushed with pink, her eyes luminous. Alekos swore again. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.’

Iolanthe touched her fingers to her lips. ‘What did you mean to happen?’ she asked with a soft laugh, and relief pulsed through him at the realisation that he had not scared or horrified her.

‘I wasn’t thinking,’ he admitted as he stooped to retrieve her mask. ‘I intended to walk away from you after our dance, but...’ He stopped, reluctant to admit how much this slip of a woman affected him. How much he wanted her.

‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ Iolanthe said. She glanced up at him, her eyes bright, her smile shy. ‘That was my first kiss.’

He’d suspected as much, and yet her confirmation made him feel even worse. He’d been halfway to deflowering an innocent virgin, hardly his style at all. This needed to end. Now.

He handed her the scrap of mask; she took it without putting it back to her face. She was looking at him with such open expectation he could hardly bear to meet her gaze. ‘I should take you back into the ballroom—’

‘Don’t, please.’ She laid a hand on his chest, and even that gentle touch had Alekos’s blood surging again. ‘I don’t want to go back there.’

‘Someone else will ask you to dance—’

‘I don’t want someone else.’ Her eyes darkened. ‘Besides, I’ll just feel inadequate compared to all those glamorous socialites.’

‘You should never feel inadequate,’ Alekos answered. ‘You were the most beautiful woman in the room.’

‘Then stay out here on the terrace with the most beautiful woman,’ Iolanthe challenged. Her hand pressed lightly on his chest. ‘Please.’

* * *

Iolanthe didn’t know what had come over her, to make her proposition a man so boldly. Perhaps it was desperation—she couldn’t stand the thought of him taking her back to the ball, and having Lukas swoop down once more as her keeper. Or perhaps it was Alekos’s kiss that had given her courage—perhaps it had changed her. That moment had felt more like fire than magic, singeing her senses, making her come alive in a way she hadn’t even known she could. She wanted him to kiss her again, but she wasn’t that bold. Yet.

‘Iolanthe...?’

She tensed, her heart seeming to plummet inside her, as she heard Lukas’s familiar, nasal voice. No. Go away, Lukas.

‘Are you...?’ Lukas stepped through the windows, stopping when he saw her with Alekos. Iolanthe dropped her hand from Alekos’s chest, surprise flaring within her when he stayed it, trapping it with his own, his long, lean fingers wrapping around hers.

‘Yes?’ he enquired pleasantly, half turning to face Lukas.

Lukas frowned and nodded at Iolanthe. ‘Your father wants me to stay with you.’

Of course he did. Her father had made it clear he’d like to see her with Lukas, but surely she had some choice in the matter. Some say in her life.

‘Iolanthe...?’ Lukas prompted. Iolanthe glanced up at Alekos; he did not look encouraging. His mouth was set in a hard line, a muscle flickering in his jaw. He dropped her hand.

‘You should go,’ he said flatly and she tried not to let the hurt show on her face. Had he bored of her so easily?

‘Iolanthe,’ Lukas said again, his voice insistent now, and, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, Iolanthe stepped away from Alekos. For a second she thought she saw regret flicker in his eyes, and her own resolve wavered. If he said anything to convince her to stay, she would, and damn the consequences.

Then Alekos’s expression hardened once more and he looked away as Iolanthe fitted her mask to her face and Lukas led her from the terrace.

‘Your father wants us to dance again,’ Lukas stated, and Iolanthe glanced at him with weary frustration. She did not want to dance with this man. She certainly didn’t want to marry him. But perhaps if she endured a few dances, she’d find a way to escape again. To find Alekos and experience that magic that had made her feel as if life held far more possibility than she’d dared dream.

‘All right,’ she said, trying not to cringe away from Lukas’s slightly damp hand. Alekos’s hand had been warm and dry and strong, and he’d moved her around the dance floor with almost arrogant assurance. Lukas’s careful, mechanical steps made Iolanthe want to stamp on his foot, or, better yet, flounce away from the dance floor.

She did neither, enduring not one but three dances with Lukas while he shuffled about stoically, barely engaging her in conversation as her gaze moved around the crowded ballroom, searching for that familiar, dominant figure. She didn’t see him, and the hope and excitement that had made her insides fizz began to trickle away.

Several hours later Iolanthe’s feet were aching along with her heart. She’d danced and then stood with Lukas while he talked business with various guests, always keeping an eye on her, clearly having no intention of allowing her to slip away from him again. She hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Alekos. Clearly he’d had enough of her. Innocence was probably interesting only for so long.

Now the ball was ending, guests streaming out of the hotel towards the queue of waiting limos and luxury sedans.

‘Where is my father?’ Iolanthe asked Lukas.

‘He’s coming shortly. He wants us to wait.’

Iolanthe sighed, wanting only to go home to bed. The excitement of attending her first ball had gone completely flat now that she knew she wouldn’t see Alekos again. She was Cinderella minus a glass slipper, and soon she’d be left in rags with a pumpkin for a carriage. And Lukas for a husband. She suppressed a shudder at the thought.

Lukas checked his phone, frowning. ‘Your father needs me in a meeting.’

‘A meeting at two in the morning?’ Iolanthe knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Her father had always worked long hours. He often stayed in Athens for months at a time, returning to his country estate only for the most cursory of visits.

‘I’ll be back shortly,’ Lukas told her. ‘You should wait inside.’

Disheartened beyond all measure, Iolanthe watched Lukas stride away before she turned back to the hotel’s opulent lobby. With her feet aching in her new shoes and her body throbbing disconsolately from the memory of Alekos’s touch, she felt more alone than she had in a long while. More lonely, and with nothing to look forward to.

She was about to sink into one of the elegant armchairs gracing the marble-floored space when her whole body stiffened with awareness, every sense coming exquisitely alive as Alekos walked out of the hotel’s bar.

She started towards him instinctively, one hand outstretched, her sense of loneliness evaporating in the sudden, demanding need to see him, speak to him, touch him—

Iolanthe didn’t care how reckless or desperate she seemed to him or anyone else. She had waited her whole life, and in that moment she was sure it had been for this. For a future that didn’t look like a prison cell, a possibility of excitement and adventure. For Alekos.

* * *

Alekos had spent the last two hours drinking steadily in the hotel’s bar. So much so that while he wasn’t precisely drunk, he questioned the vision of loveliness in front of him, thinking he must have imagined Iolanthe into being. He’d certainly been thinking about her enough, though he’d tried not to.

He’d watched from the edge of the ballroom as she’d danced with that wet blanket of a keeper, a man who seemed ill at ease in his own body, shuffling his feet and holding Iolanthe awkwardly.

Then when Alekos could bear no more he’d headed for the bar. He couldn’t stand seeing Iolanthe with anyone, even someone as unthreatening as her buffoonish dance partner. He couldn’t shake the deep-seated feeling that she was his, that no one else could touch her. He’d been her first kiss, and he wanted to be even more. Somehow Iolanthe, this innocent sprite, had branded herself on his soul, reminded him of what he’d once been like, what life was like when you held on to happiness and hope. When you believed good things could happen.

And now she was here, real and alive, her face suffused with happiness at the mere sight of him.

‘Alekos...’ Iolanthe whispered, her mouth curving into a smile of pure joy as she reached out one hand to touch him.

Alekos responded instinctively to her unhidden response, even as he acknowledged that she made no sense. He was a stranger who wanted her body. Didn’t she realise that? Didn’t she understand how dangerous he was to her well-being?

Alekos wrapped his hand around hers to keep her from touching him, and realised instantly that he’d made a mistake. Instead of pushing her away, he merely pulled her closer, finding it impossible to resist her enchanting allure.

‘I thought you’d left.’ His voice came out low and gravelly, harsh with wanting.

‘No, not yet.’ She spoke in a breathless whisper, her eyes shining. ‘I’m so happy to see you again.’

Briefly Alekos closed his eyes. Iolanthe had no idea what such heartfelt honesty did to him. ‘Iolanthe...’

‘When I didn’t see you at the ball, I thought you’d tired of me.’ She nibbled her lip, appalled realisation swamping her eyes. ‘That is, you haven’t, have you...?’

‘No. I haven’t.’ Although God knew he should have. She was inexperienced, innocent, dull. For both their sakes she had to be. The alternative was breaking her heart and shattering her naïve hopes as he took what he so desperately craved from her and then walked away as he knew he would. As he had to. He took a deep breath. ‘I was just about to go upstairs.’

‘Upstairs?’

‘I have a suite at the hotel.’ For the last four years he’d been living in Corinth, close to his factory and warehouses, making sure security was tight and all technical information highly classified. He would not have an invention stolen from him a second time. Taking a suite for the evening of the ball had been expedient.

‘You do?’ Her eyes widened and Alekos saw the suggestion in them as clearly as if she’d verbalised it. And he realised, to his own shame, that he’d mentioned the suite because he wanted her there. Of course he did.

‘You could come up for a drink,’ he said gruffly, well aware he was plunging down a road he had no business to tread for a single step. One drink. A kiss or two. And then he would let her go. For ever.

‘All right,’ she agreed shyly, and Alekos wondered if she even knew what she was getting into...or if he did.

* * *

Iolanthe spared no more than a fleeting thought for Lukas and her father before stepping into the lift with Alekos. Maybe she was being foolish, even stupid. And if not that, then reckless and wanton. Right then she didn’t care. This felt like her only chance at happiness. She and Alekos had a connection; even he acknowledged it.

If she didn’t go with him now, the prison doors would close for ever.

Tonight was for magic.

Alekos ushered her out of the lift and down a long, plushly carpeted hall, before he swiped his key card at the door at the end, and then swung the door open to reveal a luxurious suite with floor-to-ceiling views of the Acropolis.

Iolanthe’s breath came out in a rush as she stepped into the open-plan living area of the elegant space, barely noticing the leather sofas and ebony and teak coffee tables as awareness rippled over her skin and alarm twisted in her stomach.

What was she doing here?

‘A drink,’ Alekos said, and went to the minibar tucked in a corner of the room. Iolanthe dropped her bag and mask on a nearby sofa, unease and excitement warring within her. This was dangerous, crazy—and also incredibly exciting. Common sense told her she should bolt, and yet she stayed put. She couldn’t bear the thought of the evening ending, the doors slamming shut on her future. And she wanted Alekos to kiss her again.

Alekos took a bottle of champagne from the little fridge and held it out to her. ‘Seems appropriate, don’t you think?’

‘I suppose.’ She’d only tasted champagne a few times in her life.

Alekos popped the cork, the sound a mini explosion in the stillness of the room, and then poured them each a flute. He handed one to Iolanthe and she took it with numb fingers. ‘Gia sou.’

‘Gia sou,’ she whispered, and drank. The bubbles fizzed up her nose, making her cough. Alekos arched an eyebrow and Iolanthe tried for a laugh. ‘Sorry. I never seem to get the hang of champagne.’

‘Innocent in this as in everything else.’

Something about his tone made her prickle defensively. ‘I can’t help being innocent.’

‘Well I know it.’

She cocked her head, noting the way his eyes had narrowed and his mouth had firmed. Did he not want her here? Did he regret asking her up? She couldn’t bear the thought. ‘What is it?’ she asked unsteadily. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Because you shouldn’t be here,’ Alekos said, the words harsh and unrelenting, confirming her fears. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you up here. You don’t know what you’re getting into, Iolanthe.’

A thrill ran through her, and to her surprise Iolanthe recognised it as excitement rather than fear. ‘What if I do know?’ she dared to ask.

Alekos took a step closer to her. ‘Do you?’ he returned, his voice low; Iolanthe couldn’t tell if his words were a threat or an invitation. Maybe both.

And the truth was, she didn’t know. At least she recognised that much. She knew what happened between men and women, she understood the basics of sex, but this...desire was utterly new to her. And completely intoxicating. She couldn’t leave. Not now, not when Alekos was offering such a tantalising glimpse of a new world, a world she’d only dreamed of and read about in books. She’d wanted a kiss, but even she in her innocence recognised the look of blatant intent in Alekos’s eyes, and knew he was thinking of far more than a kiss.

And what of it? The rest of her life would be one shackled to duty. Why not allow herself one night of pleasure—and maybe it could become more? Maybe, she thought with sudden, dizzying hope, Alekos could be a suitable husband for her. Why not?

Why shouldn’t this be the beginning of everything?

She met his hot gaze, if not fearlessly, then at least with determination. With desire. And she shuddered when he reached his hand out and stroked her cheek.

‘So soft,’ he murmured. He looked as dazed as she felt. He wanted this as much as she did. The realisation was both thrilling and terrifying, and Iolanthe met it full on. Here was her future. Her hope.

‘Kiss me,’ she whispered.

Alekos hesitated, and through the fog of her desire Iolanthe saw the conflict on his face, felt it in the way his fingers stilled on her cheek.

‘It doesn’t matter if I’m innocent,’ she said fiercely. ‘I don’t want to be innocent or naïve. I want to feel and taste and know. I want to be desired.’

‘You are,’ Alekos assured her raggedly, and then he drew her towards him, their bodies colliding in sweet harmony as his mouth came down on hers.

Iolanthe revelled in the touch of his lips against hers, everything in her jolting alive as his tongue swept into her mouth and his hands roved her body, leaving fire and longing in their wake. His palm cupped her breast and it felt as if he’d hotwired her soul. She’d never known you could feel like this. Want like this...

She clutched his shoulders, and then dared to smooth her hands down his shirt, her palms caressing the sculpted muscles beneath the crisp cotton. Alekos let out a groan as he tore his mouth from hers.

‘Iolanthe, you should leave now,’ he urged on a ragged gasp.

Leave now, when her senses were swimming and her body ached for his touch? When she felt as if everything was finally beginning? That was the last thing she wanted. She knew she was plunging down a road where there was no way back, but she didn’t want a way back. She wanted to dare to go ahead...with Alekos.

‘Let me stay,’ she whispered, and pressed her palms against his chest so she could feel the hard thud of his heart. ‘Please.’

His eyes glittered gold as he gazed down at her, his breathing coming in ragged bursts. ‘Do you realise what you’re asking?’ he demanded in a low voice.

A smile curved her mouth even as her heart lurched. ‘I’m not that innocent.’ Not quite. If Alekos took her innocence, she’d be ruined for another man. She knew that, at least in her head, but her heart was hammering with an insistence that this was right. This was her chance, and she had to take it.

‘We can’t...’ Alekos began, but Iolanthe thought he was waiting to be convinced. And so she would convince him.

‘We can.’ Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her mouth against his, a butterfly kiss that had Alekos shuddering in response—and then kissing her back, his hands sliding to her hips to anchor her against his arousal as his tongue delved deep.

Iolanthe rocked against his hips, thrilling to his touch, to the knowledge that he desired her so powerfully. Her mind was a haze of need and sensation, and she quieted the distant voice that was telling her to stop, to see sense, to realise this could only be a mistake. She and Alekos had a connection, something precious and rare. Never mind that they’d only known each other a few hours. She felt it, and she knew he felt it as well.

‘If you’re sure,’ Alekos muttered, and in reply Iolanthe pressed herself closer still.

* * *

Alekos couldn’t think beyond the feel of Iolanthe’s slender body against his own. He felt as if she’d slipped into his senses; he couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this way. So much so that all rational thought and self-control fled and his hands shook as he tugged at the zip on the back of her dress.

The sparkly satin, as white as a wedding dress, fell away to reveal her pale and perfect body underneath. Alekos released the breath he’d been holding in a low, slow exhalation as his gaze roved over her.

‘You are exquisite.’

Pink stained her cheeks but she did not try to hide herself. Her small, high breasts were encased in delicately scalloped lace, and the scrap of silk that passed for a pair of pants was transparent enough for him to see the soft darkness beneath. Everything in him longed to touch her.

Alekos took her hand and Iolanthe stepped out of the dress, the satin whispering about her slender legs. Her hands went to his chest, fingers fumbling on the studs of his shirt, her lovely brow puckered in concentration. With an impatient hiss of breath Alekos pulled them out himself and then shrugged out of the shirt, tossing his cummerbund aside.

Iolanthe’s mouth curved and her eyes glowed as she stroked his bare chest, her fingers teasing the crisp hair. ‘You’re exquisite,’ she said, and he laughed, the sound hoarse.

‘No one has ever called me that before.’

‘They should.’ With soft hands she stroked his chest and torso, down to the waistband of his trousers where she stopped shyly. ‘You’re beautiful, Alekos.’

‘Come to bed.’ Even through the fog of his desire Alekos saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes but then she came willingly, proudly even, her chin held high as she walked towards him, her hips swaying.

He should stop this. He knew he should stop this, before Iolanthe got hurt, before he was the one who hurt her. Then she lifted silvery eyes to his face, her whole expression one of acceptance and invitation and hope, and, with a suppressed groan, he took her hand and led her towards the bedroom.

* * *

The silken sheets were slippery and cool under Iolanthe’s naked body. Within seconds Alekos joined her on the bed, taking her into his arms. Somehow he’d become naked. She felt the hard muscles of his chest, the rough hair of his legs, and, most excitingly, the insistent throb of his erection, all against her. It was almost too much sensation, short-circuiting her thought processes, so all she could do was feel and respond.

Iolanthe arched against him, sucking in a shocked breath as his hands skimmed her most private places. No one had ever touched her so intimately, and then more intimately still as Alekos’s hand stroked between her legs and pleasure flared.

‘You like that?’ he murmured huskily.

‘Yes.’ She buried her head in his neck, embarrassed by her own overwhelming reaction. Alekos continued to touch her with such sure expertise that it wasn’t long before her body was acting of its own accord, legs parting, hips thrusting as she sought the apex of the pleasure he gave her.

She’d only just reached that shining pinnacle, her body shuddering with the force of a climax that shocked her with its intensity, when Alekos was poised over her, his arousal nudging her thighs, his face drawn into harsh lines and angles.

‘Iolanthe...’

‘Yes.’ She arched upwards, accepting him into her body, craving him all the more. Even so, that first tender invasion made her gasp, her body stiffening against the unfamiliar sensation.

Alekos stilled, his breath coming in tearing gasps as he waited for her to adjust to the feel of him. ‘Is this—?’

‘It’s fine.’ She breathed in deeply, letting the sense of completeness flood her senses. ‘It’s good.’ And it was good, wonderful even, as she reeled at the newness and strangeness of it, understanding instinctively that she had crossed a threshold and could never go back. She was innocent no longer.

Then Alekos began to move inside her and thoughts fled her mind as she matched his rhythm, pleasure beginning to build once more, higher and higher, until she was crying out as she clutched his shoulders.

Alekos let out a groan as his body shuddered inside her, his head buried in the curve of her neck as Iolanthe closed her eyes and gave herself up to pleasure.

* * *

Alekos rolled off her, one arm thrown across his face as the last of his climax shuddered through him.

What had he done?

What had he been thinking, taking Iolanthe’s virginity? He hadn’t even used birth control. All he could think was that some sort of madness had gripped him, holding him in its thrall all evening. And now that his body was finally sated, his mind acknowledged the disastrous consequences of his actions, and regret and remorse replaced the lust that had overwhelmed him so utterly.

He’d taken something from her he’d had no right to take, no matter that they’d both been compliant, eager even. He bore the responsibility, the blame.

Alekos lowered his arm and glanced at Iolanthe. She lay on her back, her face flushed, a damp tendril of ink-black hair curling against her cheek. Her eyes were closed, but they fluttered open as if she sensed his scrutiny, and her hesitant gaze clashed with his as she bit her lip.

‘I’m sorry,’ Alekos said in a low voice. Iolanthe flinched.

‘Sorry?’ she repeated, her voice wobbling. ‘Why?’

Alekos heaved a sigh. ‘I shouldn’t have done this. It was my fault entirely.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘Did I have no say in it, then?’

Alekos smiled tiredly, heartened to see that she could show some spirit despite their situation. ‘Perhaps, but you are young—’

‘Stop telling me how young I am.’ She scrambled up to a sitting position, reaching for the rumpled sheet to clutch to her chest. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders and, although her eyes still flashed, her lips trembled. ‘I’m twenty.’ Six years younger than him. Alekos felt a stab of pity mixed with shameful irritation. He didn’t want her tears. ‘I don’t regret anything,’ she said defiantly. ‘Maybe we rushed things, but it doesn’t change how I feel.’

Alekos stilled, his gaze narrowing as his insides iced. ‘How you feel?’ he repeated neutrally.

‘Yes...’ Iolanthe’s fingers clenched on the sheet. ‘We...we have a connection, Alekos.’ She nodded towards the still-warm bed. ‘Obviously.’

‘A sexual connection,’ he clarified flatly. Iolanthe frowned.

‘Yes, but...it’s more than that, surely?’ Her teeth sank into her lip again as she gazed at him, and Alekos suppressed a groan at the uncertainty he saw there. The innocence and honesty that had mere hours ago intrigued and attracted him now only appalled.

He should have expected this. He had expected it, before he’d let his libido obliterate his brain. Iolanthe had confused sex with love. How could she have done otherwise, considering her inexperience?

The kindest thing, the only thing, to do was be blunt. Ruthless. Refuse to allow even the smallest bud of hope to be nurtured. Hope, he knew, was a cruel thing when it wasn’t warranted. And it wasn’t warranted with him.

Alekos rose from the bed and reached for his trousers, his back to her as he stated flatly, ‘It’s not more than that, Iolanthe. We desired one another physically. We had sex. That’s it.’ Each word felt like a grenade hurled into the room, ready to explode. From the bed Alekos heard an audible sniff and he closed his eyes, forcing back the acidic burn of regret. Another sniff.

Reaching for his shirt, Alekos turned to face Iolanthe. In the few seconds it had taken him to dress and turn around, she’d composed herself and now lifted her chin, her eyes giving away nothing save for a telltale sheen. She still clutched the sheet to her chest.

‘I see.’ She spoke with dignity, even if her voice wobbled, and Alekos felt a flicker of admiration for her strength of spirit. ‘So that’s it, then? You take my virginity and kick me to the door?’

‘You offered it,’ Alekos retorted before he could stop himself.

‘And you take what’s on offer, I suppose?’ Her lovely face contorted with contempt that cut him to the quick. ‘I’m really very stupid, aren’t I? I thought... I thought...’ She shook her head, self-disgust and sorrow evident on every line of her face.

Regret lashed at him, a painful scourge. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I knew what I was doing.’ She laughed, the sound harsh and high. ‘I thought you might be a suitable husband, one my father would approve of. But the thought probably appals you, doesn’t it?’

He found he couldn’t bear her self-mockery. ‘It doesn’t appal me.’

‘No? But you want me out of here as soon as possible. Inexperienced as I am, I recognise that much.’

‘I...’ Suddenly he felt flummoxed, unsure of what he wanted. He knew he didn’t want to hurt this lovely young woman.

‘Don’t worry.’ She cut across his floundering. ‘Let me get dressed and then I’ll go.’

‘I’m sorry if I misled you,’ Alekos said wretchedly. ‘You are very beautiful, Iolanthe, and charming. I’ve been enchanted by you all evening, and I’m sure you will ensnare a man in no time—’

‘Please spare me that pretty little speech,’ Iolanthe cut him off, her voice cold and clear. ‘I don’t wish to ensnare anyone. I am not a spider.’

‘Poor choice of words. I’m sorry.’

‘You seem very apologetic tonight.’ Iolanthe rose from the bed, the sheet wrapped around her, her cheeks flaring with colour.

‘I am. I shouldn’t have invited you up here, and I certainly shouldn’t have taken you to bed.’ Alekos took a deep breath. ‘We didn’t even use birth control.’

Iolanthe’s eyes widened with panic for a single second before her expression cleared. ‘Even I know how unlikely a pregnancy is after just one time.’

‘Yet still possible.’

Her fingers tightened on the sheet and she cocked her head, her narrowed gaze sweeping over him. ‘So what would happen if I was pregnant?’

Alekos hesitated. ‘I take my responsibilities seriously.’

‘Which means?’

His mouth firmed into a hard line. ‘We’ll address that situation if it occurs.’

‘How reassuring.’ She stalked out of the bedroom, nearly tripping over the edge of the sheet, and Alekos watched her go, caught between frustration and regret. He still couldn’t believe he’d lost control of himself so completely. What was it about her that had enflamed him so? Perhaps it had simply been a matter of needs must; he had not had a woman in his bed in months, thanks to his demanding work schedule. At this point he couldn’t imagine what else it could have been.

He walked into the sitting room of the suite; Iolanthe’s narrow back was to him as she struggled to fasten her bra.

‘Let me help—’

‘No.’ Her voice shook and she took a deep breath. ‘The kindest thing you can do is wait in the bedroom while I get myself out of here.’ Another breath. ‘Please.’ She slipped into her dress, struggling to zip it up even halfway.

‘I don’t want to leave you like this.’

‘But you want me to leave.’

For a second Alekos considered the alternative. Having her stay. Getting to know her. Marrying her, even. Then he thought of all the accompanying emotional risks and his heart shut that possibility right down. ‘Iolanthe, please. Let me take you home, at least.’

‘My father is waiting downstairs.’ She let out a high, trembling laugh. ‘And trust me, I don’t want him to know where I’ve been.’

‘Will you...will you be in trouble?’ Alekos asked in a low voice. It was the twenty-first century, after all. How shameful was it for a twenty-year-old woman to have sex? A twenty-year-old virgin who had told him her father would arrange her marriage?

Alekos closed his eyes in guilty regret. What the hell had he been thinking? He owed Iolanthe more than this. ‘Please, Iolanthe, let me help you.’

‘How?’ she demanded, and before Alekos could answer he heard voices from the hall and then, to his incredulous amazement, the door to the suite swung open. He blinked in stunned surprise at the sight of the man Iolanthe had been dancing with, and, behind him, Alekos’s nemesis, Talos Petrakis.

‘What the hell—?’ Alekos began, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything else for Petrakis’s burly bodyguards swarmed in and grabbed him, twisting his arms painfully behind his back.

‘Papa!’

In stunned horror Alekos watched Iolanthe move to her father, her arms outstretched.

‘Get behind me, Iolanthe,’ Petrakis said in a low voice, but Alekos didn’t hear what else the man said. Papa? Petrakis was Iolanthe’s father?

‘Deal with him,’ Petrakis bit out with a nod towards Alekos. The bodyguards started hustling him towards the door. Alekos struggled against them and received a sharp elbow in his kidneys for his pains.

‘I’m not a naïve university student any more,’ he grated as he continued to struggle to resist the two men. ‘You can’t treat me like this, Petrakis—’

Petrakis did not spare him so much as a glance. ‘Iolanthe,’ he said, and he put his arm around his daughter. ‘Come with me.’

The last thing Alekos saw was Iolanthe’s pale face as her father shepherded her away.

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