Mediterranean Tycoons

A sharp whimper of need escaped her as he lifted his dark head; his eyes, black as jet, stared down into hers, and then he deliberately moved against her, letting her feel the hard evidence of his arousal. ‘The bedroom, Eloise.’ One hand slipped round to cup her breast. ‘Say yes,’ he husked, as his thumb stoked the rigid tip through the soft silk covering.

She heard the words and she knew what he was asking; and in a flash of blinding clarity she knew this was her one chance for love. Her one chance to know a man—and not just any man, but Marcus. The only man she had ever loved.

She leant into the hard heat of him, and twined her arms around his neck. ‘Yes,’ she breathed unsteadily, as he swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom.

The room was in semi-darkness; only a bedside lamp shed a small pool of light over a large king-sized bed. The bed penetrated her haze of passion and fear flickered in her eyes but, before she could mouth the words of protest that trembled on her tongue, Marcus laid her down on the bed, stripping her skirt and top from her heated body in between kisses with a deftness that left her breathless.

She started to get up and stopped as, with stunning speed, Marcus shed his clothes. Half fascinated, half fearful, she could not tear her gaze away from his naked form. Shaking, she rested on her elbows. He was so perfect, so magnificently male, a tanned, hard, muscular chest with a light dusting of black hair that tapered down over a flat stomach, and lower… She gulped and swallowed hard, her green eyes flying back to his face as he joined her on the bed.

He loomed over her, his handsome face above hers taut, his dark eyes black and gleaming with a passion, a fire that reminded her of the past.

She was nineteen again and reached up for him, and then his mouth was hot, demanding everything with such hungry intensity she knew she should be frightened. But she did not have time to be afraid as caressing fingers curved around her breasts, and then hot hard kisses trailed down her throat, and a hungry male mouth fastened over the peak of one perfectly formed breast. Her back arched and she groaned out loud as he rendered the same treatment to her other breast.

‘You like that,’ Marcus rasped.

Eloise whispered his name as she wound her arms tightly around his neck. Her hands stroked his silken hair, and down over his powerful shoulders. Then he captured her mouth again in a long drugging kiss. When he broke the kiss and reared back, her slender arms fell from his shoulders and she felt bereft. Instinctively, she reached out to rest her hands on his chest. Her need to touch him was uncontrollable.

Breathing heavily, Marcus quickly removed the last barrier of delicate lacy briefs and stared down at her. She was so exquisite, so beautiful, her high round breasts with perfect deep rose peaks that begged for a man’s mouth, the smooth curve of her waist, the feminine flare of her hips, and the red curling crest that he had ached for so long to discover. He wanted her, he wanted to touch, to taste every inch of her, to bury himself deep in the hot moist centre of her, until she cried out his name in ecstasy and she was truly his.

He closed his hands over hers and lifted them above her head, as he slowly lowered his head and kissed her mouth until it opened to his. He rubbed his chest against her breasts, glorying in the friction, and triumphant at her shuddering response. He cupped her breasts in his hands and rolled each taut nipple between his fingers. His black eyes sought hers, and he murmured, ‘Perfect.’

Eloise had never imagined such pleasure existed, and she moved blindly against him. His hand slipped down to her belly and lower to her thighs, and she tensed.

Marcus sensed some resistance beneath Eloise’s headlong response, and he vowed he would wait even if it killed him. He had once promised her it would be perfect and he intended to fulfil the promise. He bent his head towards her and tongued each rigid-tipped breast, and then drew her flesh in his mouth.

Eloise gasped his name, ‘Marcus,’ as his fingers gently stroked between her thighs, slowly, lightly. She felt electric shock-waves of sensation jolting through her body; she wanted him, and she wanted to cry out, but instead she pressed her mouth to his throat and bit down in a fever of frustration.

Marcus stifled a groan and the swift kiss he pressed on her love-swollen lips turned into a savage duelling of tongues, as his long fingers parted the petals of her womanhood and found the hot, damp, velvet flesh throbbing, waiting for him…

He touched her gently, softly, fast then slow, until her hips arched towards him, and her hands dug into his shoulders and she was calling out his name.

Eloise shook violently, a fierce tension she had never experienced before jerking her every nerve and muscle tight, driving every single thought from her head, and leaving only a fiery need that was almost pain. ‘Please,’ she moaned, her head thrashing from side to side. His hands slipped under her hips and lifted her clear of the bed. She felt the velvet tip of his hard male flesh stroke and then with one thrust he was there, where she wanted him to be.

Eloise felt the briefest of pains, and then it happened. Marcus’s great body stilled for a second in disbelief.

She moaned his name and he moved deep and hard, filling her, stretching her, and taking her on a wild journey of almost mystical proportion. She felt the mighty strength of him thrusting, driving her on, until she cried out as her slender body convulsed in a paroxysm of sensation, and he joined with her until she had lost all sense of self, and the two of them became one perfect whole.

Afterwards she lay in his arms and felt the light caress of his fingertips against her sweat-damped flesh, soothing and caressing; he was murmuring husky words in Greek she did not understand. She sighed her delight, then tensed as his fingers found the ridge of flesh forming a scar on her inner thigh.

‘What is this?’ Marcus asked lazily, leaning over her and, by the dim light, let his slumberous eyes sweep over her beautiful naked body to where his fingers had found a small ridge of flesh. One long shapely leg had a scar about four inches long almost at the top.

‘Nothing.’ Eloise tried to cross her legs suddenly embarrassed. ‘Just a scar. I’m sorry if it upsets you.’

‘Oh, no, sweetheart,’ Marcus exclaimed and smiled down at her. ‘It does not upset me; in fact it is rather endearing. A tiny blemish in such perfection makes you seem more human,’ he opined, and brushed her lips with his. ‘But how did it happen? You did not have it when you were nineteen.’

‘No…well…’ She hesitated, and swallowed hard. ‘I was locked out of my apartment and I broke a window to get in, and cut my leg—nothing serious.’

‘Nothing serious,’ he murmured, moving down her naked body; he let his fingers trace the scar, feeling anger for her accident, and fiercely protective. As his woman there would be no more accidents, he vowed, and his lips followed the path of his fingers. This time the loving was slow and tender, but the end was the same, one perfect unity.

Eloise curled up close and wrapped her arms around his neck. She did not want to think about the past. She did not want to think about anything except how much she loved this man. Tonight had been a revelation and, for the first time in her life, she knew what it was to be a woman, and it was all because of Marcus. She hugged him, finally admitting to herself she had never got over him. She had loved him as a teenager, and she loved him now and probably always would, and a contented sigh escaped her.

‘Sighing. I didn’t think I was that bad,’ Marcus prompted and tilted her chin with a finger, his dark eyes gleaming down into hers.

‘That was a happy sigh,’ she speedily corrected him and, lifting a finger, she placed it over his lips. ‘And you know it, Buster. I can see smug male triumph in your eyes,’ she teased back.

‘Cheeky.’ He grinned broadly. ‘But I…’ Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the loud ringing of the telephone.

Hauling himself off the bed, Marcus picked up the phone from the bedside table, and as Eloise watched the laughing teasing lover vanished and the hard-headed businessman took his place. He was talking in Greek, and when he finally put the phone down he turned to Eloise. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘You really were expecting a call.’ She had had her doubts, and it was nice to know he had not tricked her into his suite, and bed.

‘O, ye of little faith,’ he mocked with a grin. ‘Actually, I have to make another one and, much as I would love to spend the night with you, I’d better get you back before your friends wonder what has happened to you.’

She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘I am a grown woman.’

He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose, ‘And if I stay here much longer I will be a grown man,’ he drawled sexily. Eloise blushed at his innuendo, and Marcus laughed out loud. ‘For a sophisticated lady, you blush delightfully.’

‘It’s the bane of my life,’ she admitted with a grin. ‘The penalty for being a redhead, I suppose.’

Marcus sent her a flashing smile of pure male satisfaction. ‘A natural one, as I now know, but if I don’t make this call my penalty is going to be the loss of a rather large deal.’

‘Heaven forbid, business first.’

He gave her a playful shove. ‘And you can have the bathroom first, and if you’re lucky I might join you.’

Eloise shot him a startled glance and, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she grasped the sheet and pulled it around her. She caught Marcus’s husky chuckle, but she wasn’t brave enough to parade in front of him naked—yet. She walked across to the bathroom door and turned. Her green eyes sparkling, she drawled, ‘Promises, promises,’ with a shake of her beautiful head. She could joke because she felt so great. He hadn’t said he loved her, but she was sure he did, and they had all the time in the world to get to know each other.

But in that she was wrong.

Five minutes later she walked back into the bedroom, and there was no sign of Marcus. Quickly she slipped back into her rather crumpled clothes, and wandered through into the sitting room.

Almost dressed, he was shrugging his broad shoulders into the jacket of his suit. He looked heartbreakingly handsome, and Eloise wanted to fling herself into his arms. Instead she picked up her own jacket and slipped it on, suddenly shy.

‘Sorry, Eloise.’ He strode towards her. ‘But the call was a bit more complicated than I had envisaged.’ He slid a comforting arm around her shoulder. ‘I’d better get you home.’ His dark eyes rueful, he looked down at her. ‘I need to get on to the computer.’

‘Oh.’

Marcus noted the crestfallen expression on her lovely face. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.’ And as he said it he knew it was true. He wanted this woman far more than any other woman he had ever met, and he did not want the relationship compromised by what to him was a paltry sum of money.

He was Greek, and honour and pride meant a lot. He had been very close to his Uncle Theo, who had been taken for a fool by Chloe Baker, and, sure Eloise had benefited from her mother’s scam—in fact all the evidence suggested she was in on the scam with Chloe. But it did not follow that she would do the same on her own. He had made some calls today and, as far as he could ascertain, Eloise worked hard at a successful business and, unlike her mother, she was not known for granting sexual favours to men, while conning them out of money.

Why spoil what promised to be a great affair by seeking monetary revenge? Everyone was entitled to one mistake in life, and she had been very young. His mind made up, he gathered Eloise into his arms, and kissed her. ‘Forgive me,’ he murmured against her cheek.

Staring up at him, Eloise was astonished to see a flicker of vulnerability in his lustrous black eyes, and her heart swelled with love. He was actually worried about leaving her, proof that he really cared. ‘Of course, Marcus, always.’ She lifted a finger to his lips. ‘Don’t worry. You forget I have a business to run myself—I understand.’

If only he could… ‘Yes, I know,’ Marcus said shortly, his arm dropping from her shoulder to curve round her elbow and lead her to the door.

Sensing the tension in his huge frame, she tried hard to reassure him as they went down in the elevator. ‘Actually, I am going to be very busy myself. We are expanding and opening a branch in Paris.’

‘Isn’t that rather sudden?’ Marcus queried, urging her out of the elevator and into the hotel foyer.

Eloise’s glance flew up to meet dark enigmatic eyes. ‘Not really. After dinner last night, Ted and I stayed on to watch the show, and had a real fun evening. We danced and joked and Ted agreed to invest the money to expand KHE in principle.’ She grinned up at Marcus. ‘It was great, but it was three before I got home, and then we talked over the possibilities of opening in Paris. Ted actually knows of some great premises that are available.’

By we Eloise meant Katy and Harry, but Marcus drew a totally different conclusion. His dark eyes blazed with savage violence that Eloise was totally unaware of; she had no idea of the effect her rambling explanation was having on the man at her side.

‘It was so exciting, it was after five before I finally got to sleep, then this morning we signed the deal, and went out for lunch to celebrate.’ The enthusiasm in her tone was unmistakable. This had been one of the best days of her life—success in business, and in love.

A muscle knotted in Marcus’s jaw. Home at three and finally asleep at five! It did not take Einstein to work out what she had been doing, and yet he could have sworn he was her first lover, more fool him… He’d been wrong about Eloise—and he’d been taken in by her beguiling act. Just like Ted had.

‘You’ve planned everything out pretty carefully, I see. Good for you,’ he grated, lashing himself into a fury at her deceit, made all the more powerful by the fact that an hour ago he’d been willing to forgive the damn woman anything.

Yet by her own admission she’d spent the night with Ted Charlton, persuaded him into parting with the money she wanted and rounded the date off with lunch. Eloise was exactly like her mother. Her sexy body had addled his brain, but no more… This time she was going to pay…

‘Get in the car,’ he said between gritted, even white teeth.

Eloise never noticed the icy anger in his eyes as he leant over her and fastened her seat belt. She simply wallowed in the heavenly scent of his magnificent male body, and finally realised what animal magnetism was really all about.

The car stopped before the entrance of her home, and she turned to Marcus but he was already out and walking around the front of the car. He opened the passenger door and held out his hand. Trustingly Eloise curled her fingers around the firm warmth of his palm, as she straightened and they walked to the door.

‘You have your key?’

‘Yes.’ Reluctantly, she let go of his hand while she extracted the key from her purse and inserted it in the lock. She glanced up at him uncertainly. ‘Do you want to come in?’

‘No, I have to dash.’

He was a tall, broad silhouette outlined by the streetlight, his features in shadow, and for a moment she wondered what lay behind the dark mask of his face. And what was the protocol when you had slept with a man? Suddenly she was nervous for no reason. ‘Well, thank you for a lovely evening,’ she said softly, and stupidly offered her hand.

‘I think we are past the handshaking stage, Eloise, way past,’ Marcus drawled mockingly, making no attempt to take her hand. ‘I’ll be in touch. But I think I might have to go to America for a while.’

Her heart sank. She might not see him again for weeks. ‘Promise,’ she demanded urgently; there was something about the cool remote look in his eyes that worried her.

One dark brow arched sardonically. ‘Oh, I promise, Eloise.’ With a speed that left her breathless, he hauled her into his arms, and kissed her with a savagery that left her reeling. He spun on his heel and was opening the car door before she could say good night.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘SO WHAT do you think?’ Eloise did a pirouette, showing off the black strapless cocktail dress with a skirt that ended a good three inches above her knees, clinging to every curve of her body in between. ‘The new me.’ Her green eyes laughing, she sought the opinion of Katy, who was sitting on Eloise’s sofa a bit like a beached whale, her eyes wide as saucers.

It was Saturday evening and Eloise had spent the whole day shopping for a complete new wardrobe, and for the past hour she had modelled them all for Katy.

‘I’m stunned. They are all gorgeous—quite a metamorphosis from the perennial student to an elegant woman, and not before time.’

‘I know.’ Eloise sat down beside Katy on the sofa. ‘I never really felt the need, what with working and living here, plus I don’t feel so guilty spending money on myself, now I know Ted Charlton is backing us thanks to you and Harry.’

‘Don’t thank us,’ Katy said, staggering to her feet. ‘In my opinion, your new dress sense has little to do with the business expanding, and more to do with a dark-eyed Greek, and I’m glad for you. But be careful.’

Eloise felt the colour rise in her cheeks. Katy was right, but since her dinner date with Marcus her whole attitude had changed. It was four days since she had dined with him, made love with him, and she was missing him quite dreadfully. She only had to think of the kisses they’d shared to be able to taste him on her lips, and when she thought of the rest, her body burned. She could hardly believe the transformation from celibate female to the hungry, needy woman she had become, but she liked it. She felt like a teenager again, and jumped every time the telephone rang.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Katy chuckled at the dreamy expression on her partner’s face. ‘Be careful.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about; I only had dinner once with the man.’ She had not told Katy everything! ‘As for being careful—’ Eloise got to her feet ‘—aren’t I always?’ she murmured dryly. ‘Come on, I’ll help you back down stairs. Harry should be back soon.’

The door slamming and a voice yelling ‘Katy’ made the two women smile.

‘Speak of the devil.’ Eloise laughed as she helped Katy down to her apartment.

Half an hour later, Eloise walked back up to her own place. Harry had returned from Paris, having completed the deal on the property to expand the business. Everything was going great, and all it needed to make Eloise’s life perfect was for Marcus to return.

Relaxing by the telephone on Sunday evening, if one could call it relaxing, as she lived in hope Marcus would call, Eloise idly leafed through the morning paper. Her hand stilled, and her happy state of anticipation, took a nosedive. Her stomach turned in a nauseous roll, her eyes fixed on the glossy photograph in the celebrity section. Marcus Kouvaris with his beautiful companion Nadine snapped at a charity ball in London on Thursday evening. The night after he had taken Eloise out…

Eloise stared at the image of a devastatingly attractive Marcus in a black dinner suit, smiling at the tall blonde hanging on to his arm, and wanted to weep. What a fool she was. Floating on cloud nine, imagining a relationship with Marcus Kouvaris, dreaming impossible dreams of love, and even marriage, rushing out and buying a whole new wardrobe on the strength of ‘I’ll call you’… She ground her teeth together in angry frustration at her own lunatic behaviour.

Slowly, like an old woman, she got to her feet, the paper dropping unnoticed to the floor, and made her way to the bedroom. Her eyes filled with moisture. She flopped down on the bed and let the tears fall. She had vowed at nineteen never to cry over another man again. Strictly speaking, she had not broken her vow, she thought between sobs as she was crying over the same man. But didn’t that make her an even bigger idiot?

She rolled over onto her stomach, buried her face in the pillow and sobbed her heart out. Her slender body shook with the force of her grief.

Finally, all cried out, she turned over onto her back, and with sightless eyes gazed at the ceiling. She could remember every touch, every kiss, the awe, the wonder she’d felt when he’d finally possessed her. But what for her had been a miracle, for Marcus had obviously been simply another roll in the hay. When she finally slept a tall dark man haunted her dreams, and she cried out in her sleep.

Work was Eloise’s salvation, but even that did not occupy her every waking hour, and she found herself making excuses for the man. Perhaps his date with Nadine was innocent, perhaps he would still ring her—and she despised herself for her weakness.

But as March gave way to April, and then May, and Marcus never contacted her again, finally Eloise accepted it was history repeating itself. Marcus had forgotten all about her. She and Katy worked flat out to build up a whole new range for the Paris branch and work stopped her brooding over Marcus.

Katy gave birth to a fine baby boy, Benjamin, and Eloise found herself more involved in the business side than ever. But designing was her strong point so they decided to employ two more staff—a young man, Peter, fresh out of college, to help with the actual making of the pieces, and then there was Floe Brown, a woman in her fifties who wanted to get back into work after being out of the job market for years, who was an absolute gem. When not helping Harry in the office she quite happily looked after the baby and let Katy work; it was a brilliant arrangement.

Eloise had reason to be grateful for her new clothes, even if she had bought them with one particular man in mind. Surprisingly she discovered they gave her a growing confidence in herself. Because of Katy’s involvement with her new baby, Eloise, who had left the publicity aspect of the business to Katy and Harry, now found she was more involved with the setting up of the Paris boutique, doing interviews, and socialising with the ultra-chic French. A welcome spin-off was she actually developed a veneer of sophistication that effectively masked her naturally very private nature.

It was a warm June afternoon, and just two hours to the grand opening of KHE of Paris. Eloise glanced around the elegant shop with a professional eye. The jewellery on display was some of their best work and, fingers crossed, she prayed the new outlet would be a success. They had spent an awful lot of money and taken on quite a debt, but according to Harry it was manageable. It had better be, she thought dryly, or they might all end up out on the street, instead of in the plush hotel where they had spent the last two days getting everything ready.

‘Right, Jeff. I’m leaving you in charge; don’t touch anything, and don’t start on the champagne. Katy, Harry and I will be back by five-thirty, ready to open the doors for the preview at six. Okay?’

‘Stop fussing; go and make yourself beautiful. Julian is determined to get some really stunning photographs tonight for the glossy mags. If even half the people invited turn up it will be a great success, so stop worrying.’

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror in her hotel an hour later, Eloise could not help worrying. Outlining her full lips with one last coat of lip-gloss, she patted them with a tissue, and stepped back. Her red hair was piled high on the top of her head in a coronet of curls. Her makeup was subtle, a touch of eye-shadow and eyeliner accentuated her wide green eyes, her thick lashes held the lightest trace of mascara, and a light moisturiser was all she needed. Around her throat she wore a glittering jade and jet choker that draped down her breastbone in a waterfall of intricately cut beads, one of her own designs, and displayed perfectly against her pale skin. Matching earrings and a wide bracelet around her slender wrist completed the set.

Eloise ran her hands down her hips, smoothing the fabric of the simple black strapless sheath dress she was wearing over her thighs, to where it ended some way above her knees.