Modern Romance August 2018 Books 1-4 Collection. Tara Pammi

men lust after them?

      Like a man hypnotised he found himself following her, mesmerised by the slender curve of her glittering bottom as she left the dance floor, surprised when she didn’t look back. Not once. There was no furtive side glance to check whether he was on her tail. And that was exciting, too. Her steps were determined—as if she really wanted to get away from him. This was the chase, he realised—the chase which other men spoke of but which he’d never encountered before. He could feel the tightening of his groin and hear the wild thunder of his heart, when suddenly she disappeared from sight and he was unprepared for the disappointment which flared through him. Purposefully increasing his pace, he rounded the corner and saw her—and perhaps the sound of his footsteps was enough to make her stop and turn around—a look of bewilderment on her face, as if she was genuinely surprised to see him. As if she doubted her ability to make a man follow her.

      ‘Xan?’ she said, creasing her forehead in a frown.

      ‘Tamsyn,’ he answered, and began to walk towards her, aware of her nipples pushing hard against the crystalline bodice of her dress. As he approached, he could feel the warm rush of blood pumping through his body and in that moment he felt as if he would die if he couldn’t have her.

      He had reached her now and could see her darkened pupils making her green eyes appear almost black—just as the moist tremble of her lips indicated an unspoken desire to have him to crush them with his own. And he would, he thought hungrily. He would take the wildcat Tamsyn Wilson to his bed and subdue her in the most satisfactory way possible.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      BENEATH THE FRETWORK of lanterns lighting the palace corridor, Tamsyn’s heart was thundering as she watched Xan approach, his powerful body outlined by the dark fabric of his formal suit. His face was dark too and his eyes glittered out a message of intent which started a tug of longing deep inside her. It scared and excited her and she wanted to carry on running, but something was keeping her feet fixed to the spot.

      ‘Nobody has ever walked off and left me standing alone on the dance floor like that,’ he observed huskily.

      From somewhere she found a remnant of her usual flippancy. ‘Oh, dear. Poor Xan. Is your ego suffering?’

      ‘It’s not my ego I’m thinking about right now,’ he ground out.

      Some of her composure began to slip away as Tamsyn became aware of how big and strong he looked and how it had felt to be in his arms. Hadn’t it been the most incredible sensation she’d ever experienced?

      She cleared her throat, trying to dispel her euphoric recall. ‘Look, I thought I’d made my feelings clear. I’m tired and on my way to bed. I don’t know why you’re chasing me through the corridors as if we’re a pair of kids playing cops and robbers.’

      ‘Yes, you do. You know exactly why,’ he said softly. ‘Because I want you and you want me. We’ve wanted each other from the moment we met, Tamsyn and unless we do something about it, it’s going to drive us both crazy.’

      It was one of those slow motion moments and Tamsyn felt her heart leap in her chest. Like when you heard something life-changing on the news. Only this wasn’t something which was happening to somebody else—it was happening to her. She was being propositioned by Xan Constantinides—the arrogant Greek billionaire!

      Her throat grew dry as she looked at him, trying not to drink in all his dark beauty, knowing she had plenty of options available. She could call for a servant. Or carrying on walking and even if he followed, she could slam the door in his face, because instinct told her he wouldn’t charge at it with a battening ram, even if he looked physically capable of doing so. But even as these thoughts flickered through her mind, she realised none of them were an option. Xan Constantinides might not like her very much—nor she him—but she couldn’t deny that something had happened when he’d touched her on the dance floor.

      He’d cast a spell on her. Woven some sensual kind of magic which was snaring her with invisible threads. She stared into the rugged beauty of his face, aware that this was a chance to shake off the real Tamsyn—the one who’d become brittle and defiant in order to survive. This was her opportunity to become someone else for a change. Somebody soft and dreamy and different.

      ‘You want to kiss me,’ he persisted softly. ‘You want that very badly, don’t you, Tamsyn?’

      She wanted to deny it. To tell him that he was talking rubbish and to take his ego somewhere else. But she couldn’t. She found herself lifting her eyes to his, her heart filled with foreboding and longing as she attempted a shrug which didn’t quite come off. ‘I suppose so,’ she mumbled.

      He seemed to find this amusing for his lips curved into a mocking smile. ‘You suppose so?’ he echoed, stepping forward to tilt her chin upwards with his finger. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been damned with so much faint praise.’

      This was Tamsyn’s cue for a clever retort but right now she didn’t have one because he was slowly lowering his mouth on to hers. His lips were brushing over her trembling lips and she was finding it impossible not to respond. Her hands fluttered to his shoulders for support and suddenly he was pulling her closer with effortless mastery as he deepened the kiss.

      And Tamsyn just lost it.

      She’d been kissed before—of course she had—but never like this. She’d only ever known the thrust of a tongue and the unwanted slick of saliva. She hadn’t realised that a kiss could feel like a one-way ticket to heaven. Did her dreamy gasp startle him? Was that why he drew back, before glancing both ways down the corridor and lacing her fingers with his. ‘Come with me,’ he said, his voice curiously uneven.

      ‘Come where? Where are we going?’

      ‘Where do you think we’re going?’ His eyes glittered with unmistakable promise. ‘I’m taking you to bed.’

      His masterful and slightly callous statement should have shocked her, but it didn’t. Instead it thrilled her and Tamsyn could feel her cheeks glowing as he led her through endless corridors, the click-clacking of her high heels against the marble floor the only sound she could hear above the deafening thunder of her heart. Afterwards she would try to justify her behaviour by telling herself she’d been disorientated at finding herself in a desert palace, which was only adding to the fantasy-like feel of what was happening. As if the real Tamsyn Wilson was looking down and seeing a breathlessly excited woman who couldn’t wait for the powerful Greek tycoon to take her to his bed.

      Lit by soft lamps, his suite was just as fancy as hers—only with a much more masculine feel. Strong scarlets and deep golds dominated the high-ceilinged room and on an inlaid desk she noticed a golden pen, studded with diamonds. A collection of horse paintings took up an entire wall and one in particular caught her eye—a black stallion with yellow flowers looped around its glistening neck, as it stood against a sunset backdrop of the stark desert. Xan didn’t say anything until the heavy door had closed behind them and as he drew her into the powerful warmth of his body, Tamsyn felt her heart thunder.

      ‘Now,’ he said softly, tilting her face upwards. ‘Where were we?

      For once in her life she had no smart answer. All her usual flippancy drained away from her as Tamsyn stared into the Greek’s rugged features and her heart gave a great punch of delight. Yet she didn’t have a clue how best to respond to him. Would he be horrified if he knew what a novice she was and should she tell him?

      Did it matter?

      She swallowed.

      Why should it matter—and why should she tell him? She couldn’t be the only virgin in the history of the world and there was no shame to it—even though sometimes you were made to feel like a freak just because you’d reached the grand old age of twenty-two without ever having had sex. But then, she’d never responded to a man like this before, because no man had ever made her feel like this. And was it such a crime to want to capitalise