was a Lyonedes. From a family that was powerful and rich beyond her imagining. More to the point, Markos was a man known for having short and meaningless relationships—not a man that a woman might pin her future hopes and dreams on. A lesson her cousin Donna had learnt only too well…
Donna!
Damn it, with everything else that had happened this evening Eva had forgotten all about her cousin’s unhappy experience with Markos!
Had she really forgotten? Or could she just no longer quite accept her cousin’s version of what had and hadn’t happened between them?
Donna had described him as being wonderful when they were going out together, but turning into a cold and ruthless stranger when he had decided he no longer wanted the relationship. Oh, Eva believed Markos was more than capable of being cold and ruthless—she had seen him being exactly that with Jack earlier this evening—she could just no longer see Markos behaving that way towards a woman. No doubt that was another no-no his Aunt Karelia had instilled in him!
Besides which, the cruel and callous Markos her cousin had described him as being at the end of their relationship would never have had the patience or the inclination to deal with Eva’s tears tonight. He would have run a mile in the other direction.
Which left Eva precisely where?
Trusting her own intuition?
She had done that in her life once before, with dire results.
No, that wasn’t quite true of the events of seven years ago. At twenty-two, her marriage to Jack had seemed to her like a good way of escaping the vicious circle of her parents’ relationship. But she was twenty-nine now, with a successful career and a life of her own. This attraction she felt towards Markos was based on that maturity and success, not on an imagined youthful idealism.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Markos had been watching the play of emotions across Eva’s expressive face for the past few minutes after switching on the bedroom light, realising that she was so lost in thought she hadn’t even noticed they were now in his bedroom and he was standing beside his king-sized bed, still holding her in his arms.
She gave him a startled glance as she took in the intimacy of their surroundings, and then that surprise was replaced by a warm and inviting smile. ‘Nothing of any importance,’ she assured him huskily.
‘Sure?’
‘Very sure,’ she confirmed determinedly.
It sounded to Markos as if she had made her mind up to something—to do something—and was determined not to allow anything to make her change it.
All of which confirmed to Markos that the decision he had made a few minutes ago in regard to making love with Eva tonight was the right one.
‘Could you pull back the bedcovers?’ He lowered her slightly so that she could turn back the brocade cover and the duvet, before lowering her completely onto the bed. Her arms fell from about his neck as he straightened slightly to look down at her. Her hair was an ebony tumble against the cream silk sheets. ‘Roll over,’ he encouraged gruffly as he took the black bag gently out of her hand and placed it on the bedside cabinet.
‘Roll…?’
Markos allowed himself to chuckle softly at the doubtful expression on Eva’s face. ‘Do not look so worried, Eva; my only intention is to unzip the back of your gown, not to force some strange sexual practice on you.’
Her cheeks were slightly flushed as she glanced at him over the bareness of her shoulder once she had rolled slightly away from him. ‘Maybe force wouldn’t be necessary.’
Markos drew in a sharp breath even as he bent down to slowly lower the zip at the back of her black gown. That breath stayed caught in his throat as he took in the creamy perfection of Eva’s long, naked spine, and revealing the top of a pair of silky black panties.
Markos clenched his hands into fists in an effort to stop himself from touching the creamy length of Eva’s bared flesh now so temptingly revealed to him, and a nerve pulsed in his jaw as she rolled over to face him once again, allowing him to lower the gown down over her breasts and the slenderness of her waist, curvaceous hips and long silky legs, before discarding it completely.
Those black silky panties were now the only item of clothing she wore—a perfect foil for the creamy naked swell of her breasts. Full and pert breasts, tipped with rose-coloured nipples, which were swelling, hardening, under the heated intensity of Markos’s gaze.
Eva was beautiful everywhere—so very beautiful—and in a way that made Markos ache just from looking at her, from breathing in the sensuous perfume of her skin.
‘Markos?’ Eva looked up at him uncertainly.
His nostrils flared as he breathed out deeply, before bending slightly so that he could pull the covers gently over Eva’s tempting nakedness.
Her eyes widened. ‘What are you doing…?’
Markos sat on the side of the bed, securing those bedcovers beneath her arms as he reached up and smoothed the silky hair back from her temples. ‘I would very much like to kiss you goodnight, if that is agreeable to you?’
‘Goodnight…?’
Markos gave a gentle smile. ‘I believe you have already suffered enough excitement for one evening, don’t you?’
Eva would hardly call the time she had spent at Jonathan’s house earlier this evening exciting—nor the bursting dam of emotions that had followed it! Nor would she compare either of those things to the thrill of just imagining making love with Markos…
‘I don’t understand.’
He gave a shake of his head, his eyes dark. ‘This evening was a less than happy one for you, and I believe it would be wrong of me to now take advantage of you. As such—’
‘But I’m perfectly okay now,’ she protested.
‘You are not okay, Eva,’ he insisted flatly, his fingers still lightly soothing against her brow.
But she was okay—more than okay, actually—so much so that she couldn’t even begin to describe the euphoria she felt at being free from the past. ‘Perhaps you’re the one that’s changed your mind about wanting to go to bed with me after I made such an idiot of myself earlier this evening?’
‘I have not changed my mind in the slightest in regard to wanting to make love with you, Eva,’ he assured her. ‘But, as I have already stated, I would prefer not to take advantage of the fact you are feeling less than your usual feisty self.’
Eva looked up at him searchingly. The sincerity of the expression in his eyes and face was unmistakable. ‘Such gallantry isn’t doing a thing for your reputation as a womaniser, you know,’ she teased huskily.
His expression hardened. ‘The thing to remember about reputations is that they are formed by people other than the person whose reputation is under discussion.’
Yes, they were. And the man Donna had described to Eva wouldn’t have shown a moment’s hesitation in taking ‘advantage’ of her.
Which
