The Virgin's Secret (11 page)

Angel shrugged awkwardly. He sounded surprised, as if he hadn't meant to give her a compliment. ‘Thank you.'

‘You haven't been making jewellery since you left college because…?'

Angel jumped in. This was a very tender point for her. ‘I haven't been making jewellery because I don't have the facilities.'

Leo shook his head. ‘But you've been working, surely it's possible to rent a workspace?'

‘The equipment and the raw materials I need are too expensive.'

Leo sat back. ‘You must really resent having had to resort to menial work.'

Angel blinked. In that moment she realised that she'd never resented having to work; she'd only missed the fact that she'd had to put off her dream. It had been very simple: she'd had to be there for Delphi. Necessitating that they stay at home to cut down on living costs. She shook her head. ‘I had no choice.'

Leo found himself wondering uncomfortably why Angel
hadn't just resorted to hanging out on the vibrant Athenian social scene in order to try and seduce a rich husband from her own social sphere. Evidently her sister had done just that… But then just as quickly he found himself quashing the curiosity when he found it inevitably led to wondering how she'd remained a virgin. A virgin didn't go out to seduce rich husbands.

She wasn't a virgin any more; she was
his
. Something deeply primitive and possessive moved through him. Ruthlessly he pulled Angel over until she sat in his lap. She resisted him, but he caressed her back through the flimsy silk. He'd seen her sitting alone at their dinner table earlier, and had had to restrain himself from going over and claiming her. The only thing that had stopped him had been the weakness he'd felt that would show, especially when Ari Levakis had been quizzing him as to why on earth he'd taken her as his mistress. So he'd let her sit there, but had been burningly aware of her every second, of the proud way she'd held her head—defiant, almost.

It hadn't sat well with him, and when Angel had said those things to him he'd felt shame clawing upwards. Not an emotion he was used to when it came to women.

No matter why he was with Angel, he'd had no conscious intention of ignoring her in public. His plan had been humiliation, yes, but that would come when he had had enough of her and ejected her from his life, making it very clear she'd been just a temporary addition. It would come from knowing that Tito Kassianides would be confronted with pictures splashed all over the tabloids tomorrow of his daughter in bed with the enemy.

In truth, he'd been shocked to hear her say that she'd already been the subject of gossip; clearly Athens was in a league with New York and its wildfire gossip circuit.

Angel still resisted him on his lap, looking resolutely out of the window. He stroked her back and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her arm. He felt the first tiny signs of her relaxing and smiled. His caressing hand pulled her in closer, until she fell against him, yet still she was tense. His other hand rested on her thigh and then started to move to where her legs were pressed tightly together.

With gentle force he pressed his hand against her
mons
. He could feel heat coming through the silk, and the inevitable hardening of his own arousal. He moved subtly and heard Angel's indrawn breath as she felt him push against the thin barrier of her dress, against the globes of her bottom.

He reached up and pulled her chin around to face him. He didn't like the look in her eyes: it was too
naked
. Too full of things he didn't want to know. So he pulled her head down and kissed her, hard, and with a deep groan of triumph felt her sink into him completely, her lithe body pressing into his, enflaming him so much that by the time they reached the villa he was aching to bury himself inside her.

 

By the end of that first week the whole world knew that Leo Parnassus had taken Angel as his mistress. Paparazzi were camped at the gates to the villa. Every night they'd gone out, either to a function or just for dinner, and the response had been a growing hysteria.

Headlines screamed out of newsstands:
‘Parnassus and Kassianides bury seventy years of enmity between the sheets.'
And other headlines, more snide, with suggestions of Leo Parnassus being paid
in kind
. It was awful. It was exactly what Leo had planned.

One morning, when Angel had gone down to breakfast and
had been surprised to see Leo there, she'd asked nervously, ‘What about your father—won't this hurt him?'

Leo had looked at her sharply, and then with a hard look had said, ‘My father is aware of the situation, but he has no say in who I choose as my lover.'

Angel had swallowed nervously, unaccountably concerned for the much elder man she could remember seeing at the party in the villa; he'd looked so
frail.
‘But still, it can't be easy, when he's spent his whole life wanting to avenge his family name.'

Leo had just replied with silken emphasis, ‘Which is exactly what I'm doing. My father, above all things, is a strategist. If he knew for a second what you'd done, what a threat you are, he would endorse my methods wholeheartedly.'

Angel had still felt miserable to think of how his father might be feeling, and had been reminded again that whenever Leo spoke of him it was clear that little love was lost.

And then Leo had asked casually, ‘Have you spoken to
your
father yet?'

Angel had blanched and shaken her head. She knew from Delphi that her father was home and in a near constant state of violent inebriation, cursing her volubly. His trip to London had been spectacularly unsuccessful. Angel knew a lot of his bluster was just that. And she wasn't scared for Delphi's safety. Her father had only ever lashed out at her, Angel, with his fists, in those moments when she reminded him too much of her mother.

She'd shaken her head again. ‘No, we haven't spoken.' Angel sent up a silent prayer. At least when Delphi was married she'd be moving in with Stavros and Angel would be free to live elsewhere. And lick her wounds from the fall-out of her association with Leo.

Leo had looked suspicious. Angel had done her best to ignore him.

Now, Angel sighed as she looked in the full-length mirror of her dressing room. She was tired. And she had to admit that she was still shell-shocked. She felt as though from the moment she'd met Leo again, that fateful night in the study, she'd not had a chance to draw breath.

He consumed her utterly. In the nights he taught her body how it could respond so powerfully to his; but she was still shy, still mortified at her reaction to him. And her days were filled with vivid flashbacks to moments that took her breath away, making her body heat up and melt all over again.

She quite literally could not remember what it had been like not to know this man, not to know his hard features, the faint line of the scar above his mouth which still tantalised her.

She tried to clear her mind of him and twisted in front of the mirror. The dress she wore was the most daring one yet. It was strapless and mostly gold, ending a few inches above her knees, where the gold tapered off into silver. Her waist was cinched in with a gold belt, and gold hoop earrings and strappy sandals completed the outfit.

Something defiant had made her pick it out of the myriad clothes that now filled the walk-in closet, along with a glittering array of stunning jewellery. When she'd seen the jewellery her heart had twisted. How she longed to make her own again. She'd always found the designs of others too garish for her tastes, preferring delicate chains and subtle designs. Like Lucy's butterfly necklace.

She heard a sound, and whirled around to see Leo, leaning nonchalantly against her door, already dressed and ready to go. She felt vulnerable at having been observed. This was how it seemed to be going. He'd be gone every day to work when
she awoke, her body heavy after the rigours of a long night of lovemaking. Then he'd come home and get ready, only coming to fetch her when she too was ready. Minimal conversation. Minimal emotional involvement.

She'd noticed Leo tensing beside her last night, at an art gallery opening, when a couple had started a passionate and very public row. When Angel had glanced up at him in response to his hand tightening on hers, she'd been surprised to see him looking slightly mesmerised, and yet grey underneath his tan. Eventually he'd turned from the scene, with disgust etched all over his face. Angel hadn't been able to understand his reaction; it had seemed totally disproportionate to what was really just a domestic fight.

She found that the memory and the concern she'd felt now made her feel even more vulnerable. She didn't care about what made Leo tick. She only cared that he was facilitating her sister's happiness.

She drew on all the confidence she could and put a hand on her hip, cocking her head. ‘Well? Is it suitably mistressy for you?'

Leo's jaw clenched, and Angel's belly quivered.

‘Don't push me, Angel.' His eyes dropped then insultingly, lingering and assessing. He looked at her again, and all her bravado had melted.

He just said cuttingly, ‘Yes, it's perfect. Exactly the kind of thing the press will be expecting you to wear. Let's go.'

I
N THE
car on the way down to Athens, Leo fought back waves of anger and irritation. The sight of Angel's smooth thighs out of the corner of his eye was nearly too much.

When he'd first seen her in the dress he'd wanted to march in and rip it off her. To find something much more suitable, something that might cover her from head to toe. To his utter shock and ignominy, it had only been when she'd turned around and been so provocatively cocky that he'd realised his desire to change it stemmed from somewhere very ambiguous.

He'd suddenly been uncomfortable with the idea of her going out and looking so obviously like his mistress. When that was exactly what he wanted. The fact that he'd had to remind himself of that fact struck hard now. Also, more worryingly, sleeping with Angel for the past week had done nothing to diminish her effect on him. Every time he slept with her, thrust into her lissom body, his desire increased exponentially. He'd also been growing acutely aware of the attention Angel garnered from other men, attention she
appeared
not to notice, but he didn't trust her for a second.

He was embarking on a new path, taking up residence in
his ancestral home, not to mention taking control of a multi-million-dollar organisation while keeping track of his own business concerns in New York. He had a million and two things to occupy his time and energy, not least of which was being vigilant and mindful of the vulnerabilities of his company in its time of transition.

He couldn't help feeling, with the space that Angel took up in his every waking moment, that he was being incredibly stupid. Willingly taking his enemy into his bed, where she was fast proving to have more control over him than he cared to admit.

The only way Leo knew to counter these doubts was to exert his own control, and right now he only wanted control of one thing: Angel. With a growl he ordered the driver to put up the privacy partition, and turned to reach for Angel in the exact moment that she turned to him with a question in her eyes.

The minute she saw him a delicate flush bloomed in her cheeks. He saw her eyes dilate and, without speaking a word, he pulled her over to straddle his lap. He pushed her short dress up over her thighs so that her legs could move more freely.

Leo gripped her waist then, moving her strategically, so that she could feel where he ached most. He was rewarded with a gasp, but Angel's eyes were curiously unemotional, as if she had locked herself away somewhere. To his utter consternation Leo found that thought repulsive. How dared she try and hide herself from him? She was
his
—mind, body and soul.

What ensued was a battle of wills more than an act of lovemaking, although it was that too. Explosively, with ruthless intent, Leo drew down his zip and pulled Angel's panties aside, and surged up into her moist heat.

He wouldn't let her look away. Every time she turned her face he ruthlessly brought it back. She closed her eyes, but he ground out, ‘Open your eyes, Angel,
look
at me.'

And she did. With defiance blazing. It only served to make their lovemaking even more intense. Eyes locked. Angel clearly knew that Leo wanted something of her, and she was determined not to give it. Finally the moment came, and Leo could bear it no more. His body was screaming for release, Angel's moans had got more and more fractured, and he could feel the start of the spasms of her orgasm. He knew as soon as he felt it that he couldn't last. And he didn't.

For a long moment in the aftermath Leo's head rested on Angel's still covered breast. Their bodies intimately joined. He felt every last pulsating clench of her body around his. But it was only when he felt her hesitate for a second and then bring her hand up to stroke his hair that he realised he'd won that particular round. Curiously, though, he felt no sense of victory.

 

That night, at yet another function—Angel wondered desperately how much anyone could endure of this endless posturing and preening and networking—she was trying desperately not to give in to the temptation to tug her dress down over her legs, feeling exposed and angry with herself for choosing it now. She'd been too angry to change when Leo had declared that it was
perfect.

What had happened in the car on the way there… She still burned at knowing she'd just let Leo do that. She'd done her best to remain aloof. But that was near impossible.

She'd learnt her lesson that first morning after they'd slept together. When he'd been so cold. Each night since then he'd come to her bed and they'd made love, but within minutes of finishing he'd get up and walk, naked, back to his own room.
No hanging around. No nice words. No cuddles or, God forbid, tenderness. No whispers in the night, talking of inane things, which was how she'd always imagined it might be with a lover.

‘You're a million miles away, Angel.'

Angel's focus came back into the packed ballroom of one of Athens' plushest hotels. Lucy Levakis was looking at her with a teasing smile.

‘Not that I blame you, of course,' she whispered then, with a pointed glance in the direction of the two men who conversed nearby, both tall and both commanding lots of attention—mostly female.

Lucy sighed indulgently as she looked at her husband. ‘I can remember what it's like…' she said, and then, dryly, ‘Who am I kidding? He still makes the rest of the room fade away.'

Angel smiled tightly. Ari had greeted her with more warmth tonight, as if she'd passed some silent test. Angel had fleetingly and far too wistfully wondered what it might take to break through Leo's wall of mistrust. She thought of how he'd caught her red-handed in his office, and had to concede it would take a lot. A belief that she could possibly be innocent when he had no reason whatsoever to believe otherwise, and zero interest.

Angel forced her thoughts away from that now, stung that she was feeling so vulnerable. She forced herself to smile more widely at Lucy. ‘Anyone would think you two were still on your honeymoon, not going home to two small children.'

Just then Lucy got pulled aside by an acquaintance, so Angel was left on her own again, with Lucy sending back an apologetic grimace. Immediately, though, Leo turned his head where he stood with Ari a few feet away and held out a hand. With an awful lurching in her chest Angel reached out and
took it, feeling as if something slightly momentous had just occurred. Which was ridiculous. But she realised in that moment that Leo hadn't once left her on her own since that first function. While he'd not exactly been demonstrative, he'd been solicitous and attentive.

But to be faced with Leo and Ari was nearly too much. They both packed a punch, even if Leo was the only one who made Angel's pulse race and her legs turn to jelly. She tried to ignore him and smiled at Ari, shyly asking about his and Lucy's children.

Ari rolled his eyes and groaned, ‘Zoe is walking as of this week, so with her and Cosmo underfoot it's like an assault course. Just getting through the day and keeping them both alive is a feat in itself. Running a shipping fleet is a piece of cake in comparison.'

Angel smiled, inordinately relieved to see that Ari seemed to have definitely thawed towards her. She wondered if it was Lucy's influence.

Ari looked at Leo briefly, and then back to Angel, ‘Actually, I have a favour to ask of you.'

Angel nodded. ‘Sure, anything.'

‘I'd like to commission you to make a set of jewellery for Lucy. Our anniversary is in a couple of months, and since she's found out that you designed the necklace I gave her I know she'd love a complete set. I was thinking of a bracelet, and perhaps earrings to match?'

Angel felt a dart of pure pleasure go through her, and she blushed. ‘Well, I'm honoured that you'd ask… I'd love to do something…'

But then, just as suddenly, her spirits dropped like a stone when she realised that she had no way of being able to take on such a commission. ‘But unfortunately I'm not
really in a position at the moment to make anything new…I don't have the—'

‘I'll make sure she has everything she might need.'

Angel's mouth opened and closed and she looked up at Leo, genuinely stymied.

Ari was already responding. ‘Great. Angel, can you come to my office tomorrow morning and we can discuss the designs?'

Angel looked back to Ari, feeling as if the wind had just been knocked out of her. ‘Yes, of course.'

Lucy returned then, and reminded him that they'd promised to be home by a certain time. As they left, Ari gave Angel a discreet wink. When they'd gone, Angel looked up at Leo and said stiffly, ‘You shouldn't have promised Ari that I could take the commission. You've no idea how expensive it might be to make what he wants, especially if he wants it so soon. Plus, I've no workspace.'

Leo pulled her into him, and that little move set off a host of butterflies in Angel's chest. Apart from holding her hand, Leo rarely touched her more intimately in public. ‘The villa has a million empty rooms, and I've no intention of denying my friend what he wants.'

Why did her heart ache when his easy generosity to his friend was so apparent?

 

Angel stood at the door of the room, which had been found at the very back of the villa, and shook her head wryly. This was what untold limitless wealth did: it gave you a state-of-the-art jewellery-making workshop within days.

She walked in and touched the wooden table reverently, seeing the myriad tools and expensive metals and stones she'd listed for Leo all laid out. She hadn't had access to facilities
and equipment so fine even in college. It gave her a pain in her heart to know that just as quickly Leo would have it ripped out and replaced by the generic room it had once been when the time came. She sighed deeply.

‘Don't you like it?'

Angel whirled around, her hand going to her chest. ‘You scared me half to death, creeping up on me like that!' But, even so, her treacherous body was already responding to the way Leo lounged so nonchalantly against the door, hands in the pockets of his trousers, shirt open at his throat.

‘You look as if someone has just died, so the only thing I can deduce is that you hate your workshop.'

Angel shook her head, aghast that he'd seen her turmoil so easily. ‘No, I love it.' She turned away, so he wouldn't see how vulnerable she felt to be caught like this. ‘You must have spent a fortune on it.'

She turned back then, feeling more in control, and saw Leo shrug. ‘I just told them to install the best.'

Angel smiled, feeling hurt at his nonchalance. ‘Well, you got the best. I just hope it won't cost too much to rip it all out again.'

For a long moment he said nothing, and then, ‘You don't have to concern yourself with that.'

Leo felt a surge of something rip through him at her casual words. She just stood there, in jeans and a T-shirt, looking so effortlessly sexy that he felt weak inside. He heard himself say harshly, ‘Don't get any ideas about Ari Levakis, he's a happily married man.'

The look of sheer incomprehension on Angel's face made Leo want to alternately shake her for acting and kick himself for being so obvious. But something about the way Ari had visibly warmed towards Angel, evident in the fact that he'd
asked her for this commission, had sent something ominously dark into Leo's belly the other night.

He could remember the look of pure happiness on Angel's face when she'd returned from meeting Ari at his office to discuss the designs. For some reason Leo had decided to stay at home to work that day, and he'd walked into the hall when he'd heard her return. She'd been humming. But the minute she'd seen him her face had changed to wariness. She'd stopped humming.

Leo had walked over to her and all but dragged her into his study, where a passion like nothing he'd ever experienced before had made him take her on the edge of his desk like a hormonal teenager.

Now she just looked at him, her mouth looking bruised. Her eyes looking bruised. With
hurt
?

‘I am well aware that Ari is a happily married man, and I can assure you that even if I had designs on the man, which I do not, he'd be about as likely to look at me twice as you will ever believe I'm innocent of trying to steal from you.'

Leo's chest tightened. ‘Which is impossible.'

She hitched in a little breath, barely perceptible, but he'd heard it. ‘Exactly' was all she said, but with a curious resignation in her voice. Almost defeated.

 

Later, when they returned from the opening night of a new restaurant, exhaustion was creeping over Angel in earnest. That little exchange in the jewellery workshop earlier had taken more out of her than she cared to admit. She was caught in such a bind. Apart from the fact that if she was ever to defend herself to Leo about that night in the study he'd have to trust her word, at this stage she was all too aware of Delphi's wedding looming on the horizon, and how important it was
that nothing jeopardise it. Defending herself was futile. She was angry with herself for even wanting to be able to do so. For even feeling the need. As if Leo would ever show her another side of himself. She was damned because of who she was, no matter what.

She trailed Leo up the main staircase, hardly able to lift her head. She even bumped into him at the top of the stairs and gave out a yelp of fear when she felt herself falling backwards into thin air.

In a second Leo had turned and caught her, hauling her into his body. He looked down at her, frowning. ‘What is the matter with you?'

Angel shook her head. Despite the aching tiredness, she could already feel the predictable response heating up in her body. Stirring it to life. ‘Nothing, I'm just…a little tired.'

Leo continued to look down at her, until Angel started to squirm uncomfortably in his arms. Abruptly he let her go and backed away. Angel felt curiously bereft, and nearly fell down in shock when Leo just said, ‘Go to bed, Angel. I have some calls to make to New York. I'll be on the phone for a couple of hours.'