Not Just the Greek's Wife. Lucy Monroe

      “No, but I would appreciate hearing the words.” He almost sounded humble.

      Which was enough of a shock for her to acquiesce that much. “I’m not in a relationship.”

      “Good.”

      “I assume you aren’t in one either?” Not that she thought for a minute they defined the word the same way.

      They certainly hadn’t agreed on what it meant to be married.

      “No.”

      “Then we can continue without guilt.”

      “Ne. We will continue.” That single slip into Greek to say yes indicated more than his body coiled tightly with sexual tension, or even his hard-on, that Ariston was not in absolute control.

      And then the tension snapped and the whirlwind that was her tycoon lover for the afternoon swept over her with touches and kisses and bodies rocking together until she spread her legs, silently begging him to enter her.

      He grabbed a condom from the pocket of his slacks and she tried very hard not to think why he might carry those around. “Help me put it on.”

      She nodded, and with trembling hands, did exactly that. He groaned as her fingers rolled the condom down his generous length.

      Stilling above her, he implored, “Don’t move. Not your hand, not your body. Nothing. Please.”

      It was as out of control as she’d ever seen him and she did as he asked. His eyes shut, his head thrown back in repose, he took several deep breaths, letting each one out more slowly than the last.

      When he looked down at her again, his azure eyes were dark with desire. “Now.”

      “Yes.”

      He pressed inside her and her body convulsed around him. Not in climax, but in absolute pleasure and relief at finally being connected to him in this way again. For her, it was a moment so profound, she could not speak.

      He did not look as if he needed words, but seemed lost in his own passion, and for that she was grateful.

      Even more so when that passion took them on another journey to fulfillment, this time her orgasm gripping her entire body in contractions so intense that though she opened her mouth to scream again, no sound came out.

      He muffled his own shout of completion in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, kissing her over and over again between words like Yes, and So good, and Fantastic.

      Afterward, they cleaned up in his office’s en suite, neither speaking, but the silence between them not really awkward at all.

      It should have been.

      She should be having all sorts of regrets, but she wasn’t. She’d wanted this and had enjoyed it far more than even she had thought possible.

      She realized he wasn’t feeling quite so sanguine when he looked up from buttoning his shirt, his expression clearly chagrined. “I did not intend to jump you in my office like that.”

      “I’m not complaining.”

      “Yes, well …” He seemed at a loss for words at her response.

      “We’re both adults, Ariston. Whatever else was between us, the sex was always good.”

      “Better than,” he agreed firmly.

      She found herself grinning, really grinning, for the first time in a very long time. “Much better than.”

      “Have dinner with me tonight.”

      Without thinking, she reached out to straighten his tie. “Okay.”

      They still had to talk about the company and his shares and what he planned to do with them.

      “Good.” He stepped back, forcing her hands to drop away. “Jean can give you restaurant and time details. We can discuss whatever it is you came here to see me about then. We seem to have used up our time with other things.”

      “I’ll stop by her desk on the way out.”

      “I will see you then.” He left the bathroom and was back into full business mode, even taking a call when she followed him a few moments later.

      She’d needed time to collect herself.

      So the silence hadn’t been awkward, but she wasn’t giving him five stars on postorgasmic afterglow either.

      He took a sip of what had to be cold coffee by now and grimaced. A small tendril of satisfaction unfurled in her. Ariston wasn’t picky about the temperature of his coffee, just the taste.

      And right now he was suffering through her favorite. Whatever the reason for that, it made her feel just a little like she was getting her own back.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ARISTON set the phone down, the need for pretense gone now that Chloe had left his office.

      Feeling unsettled in a way that was totally alien to his nature, Ariston cursed volubly in Greek. Just like the first time around, nothing was as it seemed with Chloe.

      None of the motives he’d attributed to her actions during their marriage withstood the revelations she’d made in his office. And damn it to hell, he hadn’t intended to have sex with her. Not yet.

      No matter how much he’d enjoyed it and knew the pleasure to be reciprocal, he didn’t like being out of control. And he had been. He didn’t like deviating from the plan. And he had done.

      Frustration and a touch of something he absolutely refused to acknowledge, but someone else might label fear, went through him. He took a deliberate sip of his coffee and the unwelcome flavor pouring across his tongue hit him as another testament to his loss of control.

      With another low curse, he threw the cup against the bulletproof glass of his oversize office windows. The sound of shattering crockery was a lot more satisfying than his own thoughts.

      Jean opened the door almost immediately. “Is everything all right in here?”

      “Is she gone?” Ariston demanded.

      “Yes.”

      “You gave her instructions for where to meet for dinner?” Plans he’d made before Chloe ever set foot in his office this morning.

      “I did.” Jean looked at the broken china cup and coffee spilled against the window. “I know you don’t like that blend, but was that entirely necessary?”

      “Have maintenance in to clean it up when I’ve left,” he instructed without answering her gentle gibe.

      She nodded, her expression revealing concern he had no desire to see. “Do you need anything?”

      “Just privacy.” The words came out harsher than intended, but he wasn’t about to apologize.

      Jean, being the highly efficient and intelligent PA that she was, closed the door with a soft snick, disappearing on the other side.

      His meeting with Chloe ran over and over in his mind, his superior brain having difficulty aligning newly discovered realities with beliefs he had held for two years.

      She hadn’t confirmed it, but he now believed there was a strong possibility that his wife had walked out on him because of the divorce papers her father had told her about.

      Divorce papers Ariston had drawn up in his absolute fury at discovering Chloe’s deceitful actions.

      Actions that no longer fit into the scenario Ariston had first assigned to them, but behavior that was no less a heinous betrayal of both his grandfather and himself regardless of what had motivated it.

      How else could he see her use of birth control when one of the major reasons for their marriage contract was to provide his grandfather with the certainty of the next generation of Spiridakous?

      Ariston