Powerful Greek, Unworldly Wife. Sarah Morgan

had dinner three times and you haven’t told me a single thing about yourself?’

      ‘Do you realise that we’ve had dinner three times and you haven’t eaten a single thing?’ Skilfully steering the conversation away from the personal, Leandro smoothly released the zip on her dress and she sucked in a breath.

      ‘You don’t mess around, do you?’

      ‘Let’s just say I’ve had enough of verbal foreplay,’ Leandro purred, sliding the dress over her shoulders in a practised movement. He frowned slightly as his fingers brushed hard bones rather than soft flesh.

      ‘People pay good money to see this body of mine up on the screen.’ She scraped her nails gently down his arm. ‘And you, Leandro Demetrios, are getting it for free.’

      Hardly, he thought, looking at the earrings she was wearing. Earrings he’d given her at the beginning of the evening. ‘Shame you’re not sold by the kilogram,’ he said idly, ‘because then you wouldn’t cost me anything.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Assuming his remark was a compliment, she smiled. ‘You, on the other hand, would cost a woman a fortune because muscle is heavier than fat and you have to be the most impressively built man I’ve ever met. And you’re so damned confident. Is that because you’re Greek?’

      ‘No. It’s because I’m me. I take what I want.’ He took her chin in his fingers, his eyes steely. ‘And when I’ve finished with it, I drop it.’

      She shuddered deliciously. ‘With no apology to anyone. Cold, ruthless, single-minded…’

      ‘Are we talking about me or you?’ Leandro removed the diamond clip securing her hair. ‘I’m confused.’

      ‘I’m willing to bet you’ve never been confused about a single thing in your life, you wicked boy.’ Smiling, she dragged her finger over his lower lip. ‘Tell me something personal about yourself. Just one thing. This latest story about you being the father of that baby—is it true? The papers are full of it.’

      Not by the flicker of an eyelid did Leandro reveal his sudden tension. ‘Are those the same papers that accused you of being a lesbian?’

      ‘The difference is that my people issued a stern denial—you’ve said nothing.’

      ‘I’ve never felt the need to explain my life to anyone.’

      ‘So does that mean it isn’t your child?’ She lowered her lashes. ‘Or are you such a stud you don’t even know? You’re not giving anything away, are you? Tell me something about you.’

      ‘You want to know something about me?’ Leandro eased her dress down her painfully thin body and lowered his mouth to the base of her throat. ‘If you give me your heart, I’ll break it. Remember that, agape mou. And I won’t do it gently.’ The warmth of his tongue brought a soft gasp to her lips and she tipped her head back with a shiver.

      ‘If you’re trying to scare me, you’re not succeeding.’ Her eyes were dark with arousal. ‘I love a man who knows how to be a man. Especially when that man has a sensitive side.’

      ‘I don’t have a sensitive side.’ Leandro’s voice was hard as he lowered his forehead to hers. For a moment he stared into her wild, excited eyes, his breath mingling with hers. ‘I don’t care about anyone or anything. Lie down in my bed and I’ll guarantee you fantastic sex, but nothing else. So if you’re looking for happy ever after, you’ve taken a wrong turning.’

      ‘Happy ever after is for movies. It’s my day job. At night, I prefer to live for the moment.’ Squirming against him, she lifted her hand and stroked his rough jaw. ‘I should make you shave before you touch me, but I like the way it makes you look. You are so damn handsome, Leandro, it shouldn’t be allowed,’ she breathed, lifting her mouth to his. ‘My last leading man needed satellite navigation to find his way round a woman’s body. I have a feeling you won’t suffer from the same problem.’

      ‘I’ve always had a very good sense of direction.’ Leandro backed her against the door and the actress gasped her approval.

      ‘Oh, yes…’ Panting, she wrenched at his shirt, sending buttons flying. With a low moan of desire she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. ‘Your body is incredible. I’m definitely going to get you a part in my next movie. I want you now.’

      Having reached the part of the evening that interested him, Leandro scooped her up, strode purposefully towards the bed and then froze because his bed was already occupied.

      The woman sat glaring at him, her eyes a fierce blue in a face as pale as his dress shirt. She’d obviously been caught in the rain because her thin cardigan clung to her body and her long hair curled damply past her shoulders like tongues of red fire.

      Given the state she was in, she should have looked pathetic, but she didn’t. She looked angry—the blaze of her eyes and the angle of her chin warning him that this wasn’t going to be a gentle reunion.

      It was as if a small, unexploded firework had landed in his bedroom and Leandro felt a dart of surprise because he’d never seen her angry before—hadn’t known she was capable of anger.

      He’d been on the receiving end of her injured dignity, her silent reproach and her agonised pain. He’d witnessed her disappointment and contempt. But a good healthy dose of oldfashioned anger had been missing from their relationship.

       She hadn’t thought that what they had was worth fighting for.

      His own anger bubbled up from nowhere, threatening his usual control, and the emotion caught him by surprise because he’d thought he had himself well in hand.

      Unfinished business, he thought grimly, and was about to speak when the actress gave a shocked squeak and tightened her grip on his neck.

      ‘Who’s she? You bastard! When you said you were going to hurt me, I didn’t expect it to be that quick,’ she snarled. ‘How dare you see someone else while you’re with me? I expect my relationships to be exclusive.’

      Surprised to realise that he’d forgotten he had the actress in his arms, Leandro lowered her unceremoniously to the floor. ‘I don’t do relationships.’ Not any more.

      ‘What about her?’ Balancing on her vertiginous heels, the actress shot him a poisonous look. ‘Does she know that?’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ Leandro was watching the girl on the bed and his humourless smile was entirely at his own expense. ‘She wouldn’t trust me as far as she could throw me, isn’t that right, Millie?’

      Her eyes were two hot pools of blame and he ground his teeth. Fight me, he urged silently. If that’s really what you think of me, stand up and scratch my eyes out. Don’t just sit there. And don’t walk out like you did the first time.

      But she didn’t move. She sat in frozen silence, her eyes telling him that nothing had changed.

      The actress made an outraged noise. ‘So you do know her! Surprising. She doesn’t look your type,’ she said spitefully. ‘She needs to fire her stylist. That natural look is so yesterday. This season is all about grooming.’ She snatched her dress from the floor and held it against her. ‘How did she get in here, anyway? Your security is really tight. I suppose no one noticed her.’

      Nothing killed sexual arousal faster than female bitchiness, Leandro thought idly, regretting the impulse that had driven him to invite the actress home. The woman’s tongue was as sharp as the bones poking out through her almost transparent flesh.

      ‘Well? Are you going to throw her out?’ The actress’s voice turned from sultry to shrill and Leandro studied the girl sitting on his bed, noting the flush on her cheeks and the accusation in her eyes.

      He met that gaze full on, with accusation of his own.

      Silent