wrung out as much water as I could,’ she explained as she handed him the soggy bundle of material.
‘I have been assured that your dress will be laundered and returned to you as quickly as possible,’ he told her as he strode across the room and opened the door of the suite to give the dress to a member of the hotel’s staff who was waiting in the corridor.
Giannis closed the door and came back to Ava. ‘I ordered you some English tea and some petits fours,’ he said, indicating the silver tea service on the low table in front of the sofa. ‘Please, sit down.’
‘Thank you.’ She tore her eyes from him, her attention caught by a large canvas leaning against the wall. ‘That’s the Mark Derring painting from the auction.’
‘I followed your advice and bid for it. You were sitting next to me,’ he reminded her in a sardonic voice that made her think he was remembering how she had swapped the place name cards. ‘Didn’t you realise that I had offered the highest bid for the painting?’
Heat spread across her face. She could hardly admit that she had been so busy trying to hide her fierce awareness of him that she hadn’t taken much notice of the auction. Giannis gave one of his lazy smiles, as if he knew how fast her heart was beating, and Ava forgot to breathe as she was trapped by the gleam in his eyes. She did not remember when he had moved closer to her, but she was conscious of how much taller than her he was when she had to tilt her head to look at his face.
He was utterly gorgeous, but it was not just his impossibly handsome features that made her feel weak and oddly vulnerable. Self-assurance shimmered from him and, combined with his simmering sensuality, it was a potent mix that made her head spin.
‘Congratulations on winning the painting in the auction,’ she murmured, desperate to say something and shatter the spell that his fathomless dark eyes and his far too sexy smile had cast on her. She was stupidly flattered that he had taken her advice about the artwork. Her self-confidence had been knocked by Craig’s attitude when she’d admitted that she was the daughter of one of the UK’s most notorious criminals. Thinking of her father reminded her of her brother, and she sank down onto the sofa while she mentally prepared what she was going to say to Giannis. It did not help her thought process when he sat down next to her.
‘Help yourself to a petit four,’ he said, offering her the plate of irresistible sweet delicacies.
‘I shouldn’t,’ Ava murmured ruefully as she reached for a chocolate truffle. She bit into it and gave a blissful sigh when it melted, creamy and delicious, on her tongue. ‘Chocolate is my weakness, unfortunately.’
He shrugged. ‘Are you one of those women who starve themselves because the fashion industry dictates that the feminine figure should be stick-thin?’
‘I think it’s patently obvious that I don’t starve myself,’ she said drily. The belt of the towelling robe had worked loose and she flushed when she glanced down and saw that the front was gaping open, revealing the upper slopes of her breasts above her bra. She quickly pulled the lapels of the robe together.
‘I am glad to hear it. Women should have curves.’ Giannis looked deeply into her eyes and the heat in his gaze caused her heart to skip a beat. ‘Before the regrettable incident with the coffee you looked stunning in your dress, and you have an exquisite figure, Ava,’ he said softly. ‘I am flattered that you wanted to sit next to me at dinner.’
Clearly, Giannis believed she had swapped the name cards because she was interested in him, but her motive had been completely different. Ava swallowed. ‘I need to...’ She did not finish her sentence and her breath caught in her throat when he lifted his hand and lightly brushed his thumb pad across the corner of her mouth.
‘You had chocolate on your lips,’ he murmured, showing her the smear of chocolate on his thumb that he had removed from her mouth. Her eyes widened when he put his thumb into his own mouth.
How could such an innocuous gesture seem so erotic? She was mesmerised as she watched his tongue flick out to lick his thumb clean. Unconsciously her own tongue darted out to moisten her lips and the feral growl that Giannis gave caused her stomach muscles to clench.
Remember why you are here, Ava ordered herself. But it was impossible to think about her brother when Giannis shifted along the sofa so that he was much too close. Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest that she was surprised it wasn’t audible. It felt unreal to be in a luxurious hotel room with a devastatingly gorgeous man who was looking at her as if she was his ultimate fantasy. Somewhere in a distant recess of her brain she knew she should deliver her rehearsed speech, but her sense of unreality deepened when Giannis lifted his hand and stroked her cheek before he captured her chin between his fingers.
‘What are you doing?’ she gasped. It was imperative that she should seize her chance to talk to him about Sam.
‘I would like to kiss you, beautiful Ava.’ His voice was soft like velvet caressing her senses. ‘And I think that perhaps you would like me to kiss you? Am I right? Do you want me to do this...?’ He brushed his mouth over hers, tantalising her with a promise of sweeter delight to follow.
On one level Ava was appalled that she was allowing a stranger to kiss her, but she did not pull away when Giannis slid his hand beneath her hair to cup her nape and drew her towards him.
Sexual chemistry had fizzed between them from the moment they had set eyes on one another, she acknowledged. Neither of them had eaten much at dinner because they had been sending each other loaded glances. She could not fight her body’s instinctive response to Giannis and with a helpless sigh she parted her lips. A tremor ran through her when he kissed her again and reality disappeared.
It was as though she had been flung to the far reaches of the universe where nothing existed but Giannis’s lips moving over hers, tasting her, enticing her. His warm breath filled her mouth and she felt the intoxicating heat of his body through his white shirt when she placed her hands flat on his chest.
In a minute she would end this madness and push him away, she assured herself. She had been curious to know what it would be like to be kissed by an expert. And Giannis was certainly an expert. Ava did not have much experience of men but she recognised his mastery in the bone-shaking sensuality of his caresses.
He lifted his mouth from hers and trailed his lips over her cheek and up to her ear, exploring its delicate shape with his tongue before he gently nipped her earlobe with his teeth. A quiver ran through her and she arched her neck as he kissed his way down her throat and nuzzled the dip where her collarbone joined. Her skin felt scorched by the heat of his mouth. She wanted more—she wanted to feel his lips everywhere, tasting her and tantalising her with sensual promise.
At last he lifted his head. He was breathing hard. Ava stared at him with wide, unfocused eyes. She had never felt so aroused before, except in her dreams. Perhaps this was a dream, and if so she did not want to wake up.
‘Your skin is marked where that idiot waiter spilled boiling-hot coffee down you,’ Giannis murmured. She followed his gaze and saw that the front of her robe had fallen open again. There was a patch of pink skin on the upper slope of one breast.
‘It’s nothing.’ She tried to close the robe but he brushed her hand away and deftly untied the belt before he stood up and drew her to her feet. It was as if she were trapped in a strange dreamlike state where she could not speak, and she did not protest when he pushed the robe off her shoulders and it fell to the floor.
Giannis rocked back on his heels and subjected her to a slow, intense scrutiny, starting
