‘Sex doesn’t have to be about love.’
‘I realise that. I may be relatively inexperienced, but I’m not stupid!’ she declared. ‘I’m not looking for love but if I was, you’d be right at the bottom of my wish-list, Xan Constantinides!’
Her words sounded genuine and Xan gave the ghost of a smile because she really was surprising. Up-close contact with his enormous wealth didn’t seem to have blunted her determination to do things her way, nor to subdue her feisty nature. She was behaving like his equal and that was doing dangerous things to his libido. He was used to female subjugation and was finding the lack of it a powerful aphrodisiac. Lust pulsed through him, hot and potent. She was such a contradiction in so many ways. Tough and outspoken—and yet at times he was certain he’d detected a glimpse of frailty beneath her waspish exterior. And didn’t that intrigue him? Make him wonder what had put it there?
He stared out of one of the windows where he could see Orestes tending to the violet blooms of an exotic flower and he thought about the fortnight ahead, realising that this fabricated honeymoon would drag like hell unless he could find something pleasurable to fill the time. And sex with his fiery new bride would certainly while away the hours in the most delicious way.
She hadn’t moved from where she’d been standing and he reached out to touch his fingertip against her mouth, instantly feeling it tremble. He could see her throat constricting and her eyes briefly closing as if she was trying to fight her own desire. And that turned him on even more, because he wasn’t used to women fighting their attraction to him. ‘You still want me, Tamsyn,’ he observed thickly. ‘And it’s the same for me. I want you so much that I’m aching just thinking about it.’
He could see the uncertainty flickering in the depths of her green eyes. ‘Nobody’s denying the desire, Xan. Doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything about it though.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because....’ She moved away from him then, wriggling her shoulders restlessly as the little white wedding dress shimmied provocatively over her bare thighs. ‘It seems wrong to have sex just for the sake of it.’
‘Says who? Why does it bother you so much?’
She stared at him and suddenly her eyes were very bright. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Oh, but it does. I’m interested in why you’re such a fundamentally old-fashioned young woman at heart.’
Tamsyn gave a careless shrug which didn’t quite come off, because it was difficult to remain indifferent to her past when he was looking at her so piercingly.
‘I didn’t realise I was.’
‘Psychologists usually say it something to do with your parents and your upbringing,’ he said wryly. ‘So let’s start with that.’
This is what she’d been trying to avoid telling him. But what difference did it make if she told him about her mother? This part of her life wasn’t the part she had buried in a deep, dark place which she never ventured near.
‘I don’t remember my birth mother, because I was just a baby when she gave me and Hannah up for adoption,’ she said baldly. ‘But nobody wanted to adopt us because we were too much of a handful. Or rather, I was. Apparently it’s quite common for abandoned babies to grow into troublesome children.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s why we put up with so much from our foster parents, despite all their failings.’ She shrugged as she met the question in his eyes. ‘There was a terrible atmosphere in the house, mainly because my foster father used the grocery money to fund his card games, or to buy dinner for one of his many mistresses. We were terrified that if we complained we’d get split up. And neither Hannah or I could bear the thought of that.’
There was a silence during which she thought he was about to let it go. And didn’t she want him to let it go?
‘So what do you know about your birth mother, Tamsyn,’ he prompted softly.
Tamsyn swallowed. If she told him he would judge her and she didn’t want to be judged. Because that’s what the girls at school had done, once they found out about her mum. They’d picked on her and bullied her and the strong skin she’d grown had been as a direct result of that. But talking about it would reinforce the certainty that there could never be any kind of future between her and Xan. And it might stop him from probing further—keeping him away from the stuff which was really unpalatable.
She shrugged. ‘From what I understand, she was pretty liberal with her body. She liked men. A lot. And she wasn’t that careful about contraception. Hannah and I have different fathers and apparently there’s a younger brother out there, who we’ve never met.’
‘And your father?’
‘I never met him.’ She moved away. ‘And if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss it any more.’
‘Of course not.’ He nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming with perception. ‘It’s no wonder you hung onto your virginity for so long. No wonder that behind that spiky exterior beats the heart of someone who only ever wanted to be a good girl. But you don’t have to spend your whole life paying for the perceived sins of your mother, you know, Tamsyn. It won’t make the slightest difference if you deny yourself pleasure, just for the sake of it.’
‘You mean, now I’ve actually lost my innocence, I might as well capitalise on it?’
‘That’s one way of looking at it. If you could stop being so damned stubborn and think about the possibilities open to you, you might be able to see some of the benefits.’
‘What kind of benefits?’
He gave a slow smile. ‘Well, for a start I could teach you how to enjoy your body. I could show you just how sublime sex can be. Wouldn’t you like that, Tamsyn? Wouldn’t you like to walk away from this marriage knowing how to please a man, and how best you like to be pleased?’
Tamsyn shook her head because she hated his logic. For making it sound as if sex was just another new skill to learn—a bit like when she’d studied to be a silver-service waitress. His words reminded her that she was only here for a short while and soon she would be on her own again—back to her nomadic existence. It made sense to tell him no and to stick to her self-imposed celibacy.
So why couldn’t she silence the memory of what it had been like to be naked in his arms...how he’d made her glow and shout with pleasure and then tremble helplessly in his arms? Why not concentrate on how empty she’d felt afterwards, when he’d left her and gone away? ‘It seems so...cold-blooded,’ she breathed.
‘Does it?’ he said softly, as he walked towards her.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘On the contrary,’ he husked, pulling her roughly into his arms. ‘I would describe this as nothing but hot-blooded.’
The first kiss knocked some of the fight out of her and the second had her hungry for more. And when he cupped his trembling hand over her thrusting breast, Tamsyn moaned with pleasure.
Because it felt good. Way too good to resist. She knew she should tell him no. That being physically close again would put her in danger of something she couldn’t understand. But how could she refuse something which felt like this? When he was sliding his hand up the filmy skirt of her dress and caressing the shivering skin of her inner thigh?
‘Xan,’ she moaned, as his finger edged inside her panties and she writhed with pleasure as he found her wet heat.
‘You like that,’ he observed thickly.
She was too het-up to reply, but maybe she communicated her need to him. Maybe that was why he halted his intimate caress and picked her up, carrying her effortlessly over to the bed. He unzipped her dress and dropped it to the floor, before laying her on top of the petal-strewn cover.
‘I see you wore white lingerie for your wedding day,’ he observed thickly, tracing a slow finger