you enjoy every minute of it, Mum,’ she whispered. ‘You and Dad deserve to be happy.’
And she would do everything in her power to help them, she vowed fiercely as she put down the phone. Even the unthinkable.
Thanos emerged from the en suite bathroom and padded across the bedroom to answer the phone, his brows lowering in a frown as he listened to the message relayed by the receptionist. He hesitated for a few moments, wondering why Tahlia Reynolds was standing in the lobby of his hotel at eleven o’clock at night, and silently acknowledged that he was intrigued.
‘Inform Miss Reynolds that I will see her in my suite in fifteen minutes,’ he murmured, before he replaced the receiver. It wouldn’t hurt Tahlia to cool her heels, and if the reason for her unexpected visit was sufficiently important she would wait until he was ready to see her. He also needed to get dressed—unless he intended to greet her wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. When he recalled his body’s involuntary reaction to her at their last meeting it was clear that clothes were a necessity, he conceded, his mouth curving into a self-derisive grimace.
To his annoyance his curiosity grew over the following quarter of an hour, and after pouring himself a liberal malt Scotch he paced restlessly around his suite. What did Tahlia want? Had she, after all, decided to offer her body in return for him saving her father from financial ruin? His mouth twisted as he recalled her scathing refusal to sell herself to him earlier in the day. Her reaction had surprised him, he acknowledged. He had first-hand evidence that she had the morals of an alley cat, and the recent story of her affair with another married actor was not the first time her love-life had been reported in the press.
He had been certain that she would agree to sleep with him in return for his agreement to buy Reynolds Gems, but instead she had looked as scandalised as if she were a vestal virgin—which was a laughable notion, he thought sardonically.
‘Hell will freeze over before I agree to your disgusting suggestion,’ she’d flung at him with icy scorn. So why was she here now? Undoubtedly she wanted something. In his experience women always did, he thought cynically. He stared out of the window at the night-time view of London: the myriad lights of buildings and cars glowing like bright jewels against the black velvet sky, the illuminated London Eye sparkling like an enormous static Catherine wheel. His mind flew back six months to another hotel—this time in Athens—and another woman whose visit had been unexpected.
He had been shocked when Yalena had phoned him out of the blue and suggested they meet up. Fifteen years had passed since the woman he had loved had broken off their engagement and married his best friend, and he admitted he had been curious to gauge his reaction when he met Yalena and Takis again. But Yalena had come to his hotel alone, dressed like a tart and clearly confident that Thanos would not turn down her offer to leave her husband for him. She had made a mistake all those years ago, she had told him tearfully. She realised now that she loved him, not Takis—although Thanos noted that she had only arrived at that conclusion since his name had been included on the list of the world’s top one hundred richest men.
Yalena had been dismissive of the fact that her husband adored her, and worked hard to give her a good lifestyle, and Thanos had felt a mixture of disgust and disappointment that he had been so wrong about her. For years he had put her on a pedestal—the discovery that she was an avaricious gold-digger, just like every other woman he had ever met, had filled him with contempt and the bitter realisation that he had been a fool to waste his emotions on her.
The knock on the door dragged him from his memories. Tahlia was here. He finished the whisky, savouring its warmth as it slid down his throat. What would he do if she had come to offer herself to him? He felt a tightening sensation in his groin, and his nostrils flared as sexual heat flooded through him. He wanted her badly, and he could afford her. Why not indulge himself? he brooded. He hadn’t had sex for months. Combining visiting Melina in hospital with running a billion-pound company had meant that he’d had neither the time nor the inclination for his usual meaningless sexual liaisons with lovers who knew better than to expect commitment from him. Celibacy did not suit him, he owned as he strode across the suite. His body felt taut, hungry for satisfaction, and anticipation licked in his veins.
The door of Thanos’s suite swung open and Tahlia wondered if he could hear her heart beating frantically against her ribs.
‘Tahlia,’ he greeted her coolly.
His heavily accented voice caused a delicious little shiver to run down her spine, and at the same time exacerbated the tension that had shredded her nerves during the fifteen minutes she had been forced to wait downstairs in the bar. He stood back for her to enter, and for a few seconds her resolve wobbled, and she was tempted to turn tail and flee. But somehow her legs continued to propel her forward—like a lamb into the wolf’s lair, the voice in her head whispered as she moved into the centre of the room. Another tremor ran through her when she heard the click of the door closing behind her.
‘You are the mistress of surprise,’ Thanos drawled as he strolled towards her.
‘What do you mean?’ she queried sharply, colour storming into her cheeks. The word mistress touched a raw nerve. Thanos believed she had been James Hamilton’s mistress. He assumed that she was sexually experienced. The fact that she was not made what she was about to do even harder.
‘I did not expect to see you at the art gallery, and I did not anticipate you turning up here tonight.’ Nor had he anticipated his reaction to her when he had opened the door—the way his heart had slammed in his chest at the sight of her, looking utterly exquisite in the same blue silk gown she had been wearing the other evening. His desire for her weakened him, and he resented the effect she had on him. ‘What do you want, Tahlia?’ he demanded tersely, moving away from her to avoid the subtle drift of her perfume that teased his senses.
Tahlia shot him a quick glance that encompassed his black silk shirt, open at the throat to reveal a few inches of bronzed skin covered with crisp, dark hairs, and his superbly tailored black trousers which drew her attention to his lean hips and muscular thighs. The table lamps placed strategically around the room emitted a soft apricot glow that threw his sculpted cheekbones into sharp relief and danced across his gleaming jet-black hair.
He was unfairly gorgeous, and her stomach muscles clenched as she relived those moments in his office when he had crushed her against his body and his lips had claimed hers with untamed passion. No woman would ever tame Thanos, she brooded. Beneath his veneer of urbane sophistication she sensed power and ruthless ambition, a magnetism that commanded the respect of other men and drew beautiful women to him in droves—yet none would own him or control him, and only the most foolish would try.
The expression on his coldly handsome face was not encouraging, but she had spent the evening listening to her mother’s excited chatter about her plans for the garden at Carlton House while her father had looked increasingly strained and haunted. She had finally accepted that she would do whatever it took to prevent her parents from losing their home.
Her mouth felt dry. She licked her lips nervously and prayed that when she spoke her voice would not waver. She did not want him to know how much this was costing her. ‘I’ve come to tell you that I accept your offer,’ she said baldly, lifting her head and meeting his midnight gaze steadily. ‘I’ll sleep with you in return for you buying Reynolds Gems, for the price my father stipulated to Vantage Investments.’
FOR several long, agonising seconds Thanos said nothing, but then his brows rose and he drawled mockingly, ‘I will expect you to do rather more than sleep in return for paying a fortune for your
