words had got through to her, he could see that. Just as he could see the temptation which flickered in her blue eyes.
‘And if I were to agree...’ Her voice tailed off. ‘What kind of marriage would you expect?’
Drakon heard the uncertain note in her voice but her darkening eyes told a different story. And suddenly he found himself being sucked into a vortex of erotic recall. He remembered the softness of her thighs and the untamed bush of hair which concealed her untouched treasure. For perhaps the only time in his adult sexual life, he had been momentarily astonished—and not just because she hadn’t waxed—because what woman of twenty-eight was a virgin in this day and age? He remembered the soft gasp she’d given when he had entered her, the faint pain of her initial response quickly giving way to breathless murmurs of encouragement and then, to her first sweetly sobbing orgasm. And hadn’t that felt sublime? Hadn’t he experienced a deep satisfaction as she had choked out her pleasure against his bare shoulder, her ecstatic response filling him with a rush of primeval pleasure?
He’d made love to her countless times during those few short days—justifying his seemingly insatiable appetite with the assurance that he was simply enjoying introducing her to sex. But it had been more than that, even though he’d been loath to admit it then and was even less inclined to do so now. Her untutored eagerness had lit a strange yearning inside him—one which was being ignited right now.
He felt the exquisite throb of desire at his groin and heard the powerful thunder of his own heart. Maybe it was wrong to be thinking about sex at a time like this, but didn’t they say the life force was at its most powerful during periods of grief and loss? Wasn’t it nature’s way of sustaining the human race, as well as reinforcing that, while his twin brother might be lying cold and dead beneath the hard earth, he, Drakon, was very much alive and at the mercy of his senses?
He began to walk towards her, noticing the instinctive tremble of her lips as he grew closer, but she didn’t stop him, nor show any signs of wanting to. She just stood there, her blue eyes bright and questioning, her thick dark hair spilling out of the untidy plait which snaked down her back.
‘I would expect the usual things which marriage entails,’ he said huskily. ‘Physical intimacy, for a start. I think that’s one thing we both know we really do have in common.’
Distractedly, Lucy rubbed her toe against the rug, scarcely able to believe they were having this kind of conversation. Normally she didn’t have to deal with anything more taxing than someone asking whether there were any gluten-free sandwiches available. Yet Drakon Konstantinou had just come right out and told her they were sexually compatible—him with a vast cast of ex-lovers and her with only one! She had no experience of such things but instinct told her that his words were true.
But was it enough for her to accept his offer of marriage? Enough for her to turn her back on her old life and enter a new one, which might be exciting but was tinged with uncertainty? With a father and a brother in the military she had grown up surrounded by uncertainty and she’d hated it. She’d longed for a safer world. A more predictable world. It was one of the reasons why she’d never really made waves in her own adult life. Why she’d always followed the rules and played safe.
Until she’d bumped into Drakon Konstantinou one balmy summer evening and the world had spun on its axis.
She knew she should say no. She should retreat back into her comfortable little world and try to forget the sexy billionaire and his bizarre offer.
But Lucy had been badly affected by what had happened to her family. In a few short years it had been wiped out as if it had never existed. Her father, brother and mother had all died in relatively quick succession. Orphaned and alone, she’d felt as if she had no real place anywhere. Sometimes she’d felt invisible. She still did. As if people were looking right through her. And all these feelings were compounded by the fact that she could never have children and be able to create a family of her own.
She stared into Drakon’s rugged face, hope flaring inside her despite all her misgivings. Because the Greek tycoon was offering her exactly that. Something she’d once thought impossible but which, unlike him, she had wanted. An instant family. A baby to love and to care for. Her mouth dried. Could it work? Could she make it work? And by doing that give them both what they needed—he a wife and she a child?
She licked her lips. ‘When do you need an answer by?’
‘I don’t see any point in waiting. I am a man who likes to settle a deal as quickly as possible. Now would be ideal.’
She shook her head. ‘Now is too soon, Drakon. I need a few days to process this. To mull over everything you’ve said and decide whether or not it could work. It’s too big a consideration to just toss you an answer.’
His black eyes narrowed and in them Lucy could see speculation.
‘Of course, there’s another factor which needs to be considered. I’d hate you to overlook that, Lucy.’
She asked the question without really thinking about it. ‘Which is what?’
He gave a slow smile. ‘Use your imagination.’
The dip in his voice and the suddenly smoky light in his eyes made Lucy realise he was going to touch her and on one level she recognised that it was studied and manipulative. But it still worked, because Drakon knew how to press all her buttons. Even though an inner voice was urging caution, Lucy let him pull her in his arms to kiss her and, oh, she was hungry for that kiss.
So hungry.
Her fingers coiled around his broad shoulders as the voice of reason tried to warn her this was only going to confuse matters. But her body was refusing to listen to reason—its hungry demands silencing every sensible objection. Because this was amazing. Sweet sensations were flooding her body and her newly awoken sexual appetite—honed by five months of aching absence—made her think she might faint if Drakon didn’t quell this sudden urgent need inside her.
His hand drifted up underneath her baggy sweater, his fingers encountering the shivering flesh of her torso before moving upwards to cup the straining mound of her breast. It was exquisite torture to feel her nipple pushing greedily against the lace of her bra, and all the while his lips were gently prising hers open. Exploring. Probing. Making her melt with the sensual flicker of his tongue. Making her writhe her hips in wordless appeal. She could feel the tension in his powerful body as he levered one powerful thigh between hers and it eased some of the pressure, even as it managed to build some more. She could feel the hardness at his groin. A hard ridge pressing urgently against the immaculate cut of his trousers, which told her graphically just how much he wanted her. She should have felt shy but that was the last thing she was feeling and Lucy knew that if the Greek had ripped off her jeans and panties before positioning himself where she was aching most, she would have taken him deep inside her.
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