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Eligible Greeks: Tycoon's Revenge: Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge / The Power of the Legendary Greek / The Greek Millionaire's Mistress. CATHERINE GEORGEЧитать онлайн книгу.

Eligible Greeks: Tycoon's Revenge: Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge / The Power of the Legendary Greek / The Greek Millionaire's Mistress - CATHERINE  GEORGE


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as he swung round to face her made Tahlia’s heart sink.

      ‘Where have you been for the past five hours?’ he queried tersely. ‘The maid said you went out at eleven this morning,’ he added, when Tahlia frowned and checked her watch.

      ‘I can’t believe I was out for so long. I went into the town, and there was so much to see. Time just flew,’ she said defensively.

      ‘Particularly as you travelled by bus,’Thanos said disapprovingly. ‘The maid told me she had explained to you that I have assigned a driver to act as your personal chauffeur.Yianis would have given you a tour of the island—and carried your shopping,’ he added, his eyes dropping to the bags she was holding. ‘I was beginning to worry that something had happened to you,’he said tensely. ‘You are a stranger to Mykonos, and some of the bars are not good places for you to go on your own.’

      Tahlia’s temper prickled at the note of censure in his voice. ‘I’m a big girl now, and I can take care of myself.’

      Did she have any idea how young she looked, with her face bare of make-up and her hair caught up in a ponytail? Thanos mused. He could imagine the interest she had aroused among the male population of Mykonos in her faded denim shorts and a white strap top, beneath which she was clearly not wearing a bra, and he felt a caveman instinct to lock her away in the highest tower.

      ‘During my student days I spent two summers backpacking around Europe. I know the kind of seedy places to avoid. I worked in many of them,’ she admitted ruefully.

      ‘Doing what?’ Thanos asked curiously.

      ‘Waitressing, mainly—although I did try a brief stint cooking pancakes in a crêperie in Spain. Until I set light to the kitchen and the manager sacked me,’ Tahlia told him cheerfully. ‘I was better at bar-work, or cleaning. Often I worked seventy hours a week, and saved the money I earned to see me through my next term at university.’

      Thanos frowned. ‘Didn’t your parents support you financially while you were studying?’

      ‘They couldn’t afford to. Carlton House suffered serious structural damage in a storm a few years ago, and the cost of the repairs was astronomical. But I was happy to pay my own way. I never expected hand-outs.’

      The Tahlia he was getting to know was nothing like the image fostered in the tabloids of a spoilt party-girl, Thanos brooded, trying to picture her waiting on tables. He remembered the exhaustion of working ridiculously long hours as a labourer, struggling to earn enough to pay the bills and feed and clothe Melina. Memories of those years of poverty were the reason why he now made regular donations to charities supporting the under-privileged, and they had made him appreciate all that he had. Until now he had never met any woman, apart from his sister, who respected the value of money.

      ‘But presumably your parents paid for your flat? You could not have afforded to buy a property in such an affluent area of London on the money you earned as a waitress.’

      ‘Oh, the flat isn’t mine, it belongs to George. My aunt Georgina,’ Tahlia explained hastily, when Thanos’s brows drew together. ‘I moved in with her after I left university. She’s elderly, and had had several falls. I wanted to take care of her, but sadly she developed dementia and it got to the point where I was terrified of leaving her to go to work because she had so many accidents. After she left a plastic jug on the electric hotplate and the kitchen caught fire my parents and I decided that it would be better for her to move into a residential home where she could have full-time care. I visit her twice a week—’ Tahlia broke off at the realisation that she would be unable to visit her aunt for the next month. ‘I don’t suppose she’ll miss me,’ she said quietly. ‘She doesn’t recognise me any more.’

      ‘Yet you still visit her regularly?’ Thanos murmured.

      ‘Of course.’Tahlia shrugged. ‘Dementia is a cruel illness, but it doesn’t define Aunt George. She’s still a wonderful person.’

      Far from being heartless, as he had once believed, Tahlia clearly possessed a depth of compassion and kindness that he had never found in any other woman, Thanos acknowledged. He did not want to dwell on how he had misjudged her and he strolled towards her, glancing curiously at her shopping bags.

      ‘So, what did you buy?’

      ‘Clothes—as ordered,’ she replied brightly. ‘Two evening dresses, to be precise.’ She pulled a garish pink gown from one of the bags and held it up for his inspection. ‘What do you think?’

      ‘I think you had better show me the other one,’he said flatly.

      ‘If you don’t like the pink, I thought I couldn’t go wrong with classic black.’ Tahlia held the plain black dress against her and gave an impatient sigh when he shook his head. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

      ‘It’s cheap, badly made, and it drains the colour from your face,’ Thanos told her bluntly. He lifted his hand and ran his finger lightly down her cheek, watching the soft flush of rose-pink stain her skin. ‘If they are the only two choices, then I have to say that I definitely prefer you wearing no clothes at all, agape.’

      The sultry gleam in his eyes caused a delicious little shiver to run through Tahlia, and her breath snagged in her throat when he slid the strap of her cotton top over her shoulder. It would be so easy to close the few inches between them and tilt her head in readiness for his kiss, but she was suddenly gripped with shyness. She was here with him to fulfil her side of a business arrangement, she reminded herself fiercely. She had not expected to be so utterly captivated by him—or to feel this lingering regret that their relationship would never be more than sex.

      ‘I think I’ll hit the shower,’ she mumbled. ‘It was hot and dusty in town.’

      She quickly made her escape, crossing the lounge to the bedroom and carrying on into the en suite bathroom. A long, tepid shower cooled her heated skin and went some way to restoring her equilibrium. When she’d finished she wound a towel sarong-like around her body and blasted her hair with the hairdrier, wondering if Thanos had returned to work.

      The sight of him propped up in bed halted her in her tracks, and her heart missed a beat as her eyes travelled down from his bare muscular chest, covered with whorls of dark hair, to the sheet draped low over his hips. The word handsome did not do justice to his stunning looks and simmering virility. One look at him was all it took for her to melt, she thought despairingly, unable to tear her eyes from the sensual promise of his mouth. The feral heat in his gaze was both an invitation and a demand, and when he wordlessly flicked back the sheet to reveal the awesome strength of his arousal, she swallowed, her eyes locked with his as she walked slowly towards the bed.

      Heart pounding so hard she was sure he must hear it, she stretched out beside him, her faint sigh muffled as he lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a slow, drugging kiss that sparked a flame inside her. His tongue probed between her lips, demanding access as he deepened the kiss, and she responded mindlessly, her body quivering with delight. He unwrapped her towel and stroked his hand over her breasts, teasing her nipples into hard peaks before he replaced his fingers with his mouth and laved each dusky tip until she gasped with pleasure.

      Passion built swiftly, and when he slipped his hand between her thighs she spread her legs wider, heard his low groan of approval as he parted her and discovered the slick wetness of her arousal.

      ‘You can touch me too,’ Thanos murmured, smiling when colour stained her cheeks.

      After a moment’s hesitation she complied, and tested his restraint to its limit when she stroked her fingers lightly along his swollen length and then grew bolder and encircled him. Her innocence was indisputable, but she was an apt pupil, he acknowledged, his heart racing as he reached for a protective sheath and then positioned himself over her. He entered her with slow deliberation, watching her eyes widen as she felt him slide deeper, filling her to the hilt before he withdrew almost fully and thrust again, establishing a rhythm that drove them both to the edge and over, as their passion exploded in the glory of mutual climax.

      It was just good


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