The Greek's Convenient Wife. Melanie Milburne

subjected. It was bad enough having every other diner glancing pointedly her way without having to suffer the sardonic gleam in Demetrius’s eyes as well.

      The waiter came over to take their order and close on his heels was a photographer. Maddison’s eyes widened in alarm as Demetrius gave the photographer the go-ahead, her fury towards him knowing no bounds as he sat back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile.

      The camera flashed just as she opened her mouth to protest, which made her even more annoyed. She waited until the man had moved to the next table before she spoke.

      ‘I suppose you think that was funny?’ Her eyes flashed with venomous wrath.

      ‘What’s wrong? Don’t you like having your picture taken?’ He took another leisurely sip of his champagne.

      ‘Not under these sorts of circumstances,’ she hissed. ‘Besides, I had my mouth open; I’ll look like an idiot.’

      The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. ‘Then perhaps you should learn to keep your very pretty mouth shut,’ he advised.

      She took another piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth to stop herself from giving him the dressing down she felt bubbling up in her throat.

      ‘Come now, Maddison,’ he chided her gently when she’d gnawed her way through another two pieces. ‘Don’t pout; you’re supposed to be madly in love with me, remember? This is our first official date; try to look as if you’re enjoying it.’

      She pushed the rest of the bread away and glared at him. ‘How am I supposed to enjoy an evening in your company? You’re the most obnoxious man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.’

      ‘You never know, I might greatly improve on acquaintance.’

      ‘I doubt it.’

      ‘Never say never; it’s like tempting fate.’

      She gave him a caustic look from beneath her lashes. ‘You’d have to have a complete personality bypass for me to even consider changing my opinion of you.’

      He laughed as he picked up his champagne glass once more, twirling the stem with his long fingers as he watched her struggle to hold on to her temper.

      ‘Let’s wait and see, shall we?’ He raised his glass to her and, tipping back his head, tossed the contents down his throat.

      Maddison watched the up and down movement of his neck as he swallowed the liquid, her pulse suddenly feeling heavy in her veins.

      She tore her eyes away and stared at the food the waiter was placing before her, wondering if she’d be able to get a single mouthful past the tight restriction in her throat. She felt as if she’d just stepped into water too deep and dangerous for her, the prospect of escape disappearing like a lifeline carried out of reach with the tide.

      She felt sure Demetrius was laughing at her behind the cool façade of his too handsome face. She could see it in his eyes as they rested on her, and the way his mouth lifted up at one corner as his gaze travelled over her lazily, making her skin tighten all over with acute awareness. She didn’t want to react to him at all, but somehow whenever that brown-black gaze meshed with hers she felt as if her temperature were increasing, her heart-rate elevating and her legs weakening uncontrollably.

      She picked up her fork and tasted the delicious seafood pasta dish, sneaking a covert glance his way.

      ‘Would you like to taste some of mine?’ He offered her a small morsel on the tip of his fork, passing it across the table to just in front of her mouth.

      With the slightest hesitation she opened her mouth over his fork and took the food, her eyes locking with his as she chewed and swallowed.

      ‘Good?’

      She nodded and picked up a forkful of her own dish, leaning across as he had done for him to taste it. His eyes burned into hers as his mouth opened over the food, drawing it into his mouth slowly, his tongue coming out to trace over his lips in a single sweep that sent her blood on a riotous passage through her veins.

      She bent her head to her plate once more, forcing herself to eat every scrap in an attempt to keep her gaze from shifting in his direction.

      She declined coffee and dessert, not because she didn’t want them—she did—but she could no longer trust herself to sit opposite him without betraying how much he affected her.

      He settled the bill while she fidgeted uncomfortably under the interested stares of the other diners, angry with herself for wanting to score points off him but even more furious with him for rubbing her nose in it the way he had done.

      He took her elbow to lead her out to where he’d parked his car just beyond the world-famous sidewalk café, Harry’s Café de Wheels. A chorus of appreciative male whistles sent the colour back to her cheeks as she went past, her head high although she knew her composure was cracking around the edges.

      Demetrius held the car door open for her and she slipped under his arm, hoping he couldn’t see the bright glitter of angry tears in her eyes.

      He strode around to his side and once the car had roared into life turned into the traffic.

      ‘I’d like you to come to my office tomorrow,’ he said as he took the turn back to the southern suburbs where she lived. ‘I have another document for you to sign.’

      She gave him a worried glance. ‘More documents? But I already signed the ones you sent.’

      ‘I know but this one is different. At the cessation of our marriage I will be paying you a lump sum to compensate you for any inconvenience you might have suffered.’

      ‘I don’t want your money.’

      ‘No, I imagine not, now your brother has already helped himself to a considerable portion of it by destroying my yacht.’

      She looked down at her hands, which were twisted in her lap. ‘You make it sound as if I deliberately encouraged him.’

      ‘Didn’t you?’ He slanted a quick glance her way.