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  Walking back to Rebecca, he set one snifter by her elbow. When he looked at her … he wanted to shout, to beg, to demand, to plead. As a result, his voice was clipped and hard.

  “You came to Athens with me, not with Dimitri or any other man.”

  She didn’t touch the snifter. She was certain her hands would shake so hard that it would slip out of her grip. “Is that a Greek custom?” It amazed her—and bolstered her confidence—to hear how calm her voice was. “Forbidding a woman to speak to another man?”

  “Speak?” He could still see the way Dimitri had bent his head close to hers. Dimitri, who was smooth and practiced. Dimitri, whose background would very likely mirror Rebecca’s. Old money, privileged childhoods, quiet society. “Do you allow every man who speaks to you to hold you, to touch you?”

  She didn’t blush. Instead, the color faded from her cheeks. She shook, not with fear but with fury. “What I do, and with whom I do it, is my business. Mine.”

  Very deliberately he lifted his snifter and drank. “No.”

  “If you think that because I came here with you you have the right to dictate to me you’re wrong. I’m my own person, Stephen.” It struck her even as she said it that it was true. She was her own person. Each decision she made was her own. Filled with a new sense of power, she stepped forward. “No one owns me, not you, not anyone. I won’t be ordered. I won’t be forced. I won’t be pressured.” With a flick of her skirts, she turned. He had her again quickly, his hands on both of her arms, his face close.

  “You won’t go back to him.”

  “You couldn’t stop me if that was what I wanted.” She tossed her head back challengingly. “But I have no intention of going back downstairs to Dimitri, or anyone else.” She jerked her arms free. “You idiot. Why should I want to be with him when I’m in love with you?”

  She stopped, her eyes wide with shock, her lips parted in surprise. Overwhelmed by a combination of humiliation and fury, she spun around. Then she was struggling against him. “Leave me alone! Oh, God, just leave me alone!”

  “Do you think I could let you go now?” He caught her hair in his hand, dragging it back until her eyes met his. In them she saw triumph and desire. “I feel as though I’ve waited all my life to hear you say those words.” He rained kisses over her face until her struggles ceased. “You drive me mad,” he murmured. “Being with you, being without you.”

  “Please.” Colors, shapes, lights were whirling in her head. “I need to think.”

  “No. Ask me for anything else, but not more time.” Gathering her close, he buried his face in her hair. “Do you think I make a fool of myself over every woman?”

  “I don’t know.” She moaned when his lips trailed down her throat. Something wild and terrifying was happening inside her body. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me.”

  “Yes, I do.” He pulled away just far enough to look down at her. “From the first moment I saw you, I knew you. Needed you. Wanted you.”

  It was true. She knew it, felt it, but she shook her head in denial. “It’s not possible.”

  “I’ve loved you before, Rebecca, almost as much as I do now.” He felt her go still. The color fled from her face again, but her eyes stayed steady on his.

  “I don’t want you to say what isn’t real, what you’re not sure of.”

  “Didn’t you feel it, the first time I kissed you?” When he saw the acknowledgment in her eyes, his grip tightened. He could feel her heart thundering, racing to match the rhythm of his own. “Somehow you’ve come back to me, and I to you. No more questions,” he said, before she could speak. “I need you tonight.”

  It was real. She felt the truth and the knowledge when his mouth found hers. If it was wrong to go blindly into need, then she would pay whatever price was asked. She could no longer deny him … or herself.

  There was no gentleness in the embrace. It was as it had been the first time, lovers reunited, a hunger finally quenched. All heat and light. She gave more than she’d known she had. Her mouth was as avid as his, as seeking. Her murmurs were as desperate. Her hands didn’t shake as they moved over him. They pressed, gripped, demanded. Greedy, she tugged the jacket from his shoulders.

  Yes, he’d come back to her. If it was madness to believe it, then for tonight she’d be mad.

  The taste of her, just the taste of her, was making his head swim and his blood boil. He nipped at her lip, then sucked until he heard her helpless whimper. He wanted her helpless. Something fierce and uncivilized inside him wanted her weak and pliant and defenseless. When she went limp in his arms he dived into her mouth and plundered. Her response tore at him, so sweet, so vulnerable, then suddenly so ardent.

  Her hands, which had fluttered helplessly to her side, rose up again to pull at his shirt, to race under it to warmed flesh. She could only think of how right it felt to touch him, to press against him and wait for him to light new fires inside her.

  With an oath, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  The moon was waning and offered only the most delicate light. It fell in slants and shadows on the bed, dreamlike. But the vibrating of Rebecca’s pulse told her this was no dream. There was the scent of jasmine from the sprigs in the vase beside the bed.

  It was a scent she would always remember, just as she would remember how dark and deep were the color of his eyes.

  Needful, desperate, they tumbled onto the bed.

  He wanted to take care with her. She seemed so small, so fragile. He wanted to show her how completely she filled his heart. But his body was on fire, and she was already moving like a whirlwind beneath him.

  His mouth was everywhere, making her shudder and arch and ache. Desires she’d never known sprang to life inside her and took control. Delirious, she obeyed them, reveled in them, then searched for more.

  They rolled across the bed in a passionate war that would have two victors, touching, taking, discovering. Impatient, he peeled the dress from her, moaning as he found her breasts with his hands, his lips, his teeth. Unreasoning desire catapulted through him when he felt her soar.

  Her body felt like a furnace, impossibly hot, impossibly strong. Sensations rammed into her, stealing her breath. Mindless and moaning, she writhed under him, open for any demand he might make, pulsing for any new knowledge he might offer.

  Finally, finally, she knew what it was to love, to be loved, to be wanted beyond reason. Naked, she clung to him, awash in the power and the weakness, the glory and the terror.

  He raced over her as if he already knew what would make her tremble, what would make her yearn. Never before had she been so aware, so in tune with another.

  She made him feel like a god. He touched, and her skin vibrated under his hand. He tasted, and her flavor was like no other. She was moist, heated, and utterly willing. She seemed to explode beneath him, lost in pleasure, drugged by passion. No other woman had ever driven him so close to madness. Her head was thrown back, and one hand was flung out as her fingers dug into the sheets. Wanton, waiting, wild.

  With her name on his lips, he drove into her. His breath caught. His mind spun. Her cry of pain and release echoed in his head, bringing him both triumph and guilt. His body went rigid as he fought to claw his way back. Then she seemed to close around him, body, heart, soul. As helpless as she, he crossed the line into madness and took her with him.

  Chapter Nine

  Aftershocks of passion wracked her. Stunned and confused, she lay in the shadowed light. Nothing had prepared her for this. No one had ever warned her that pleasure could be so huge or that need could be so jagged. If she had known … Rebecca closed her eyes and nearly laughed out loud. If she had known, she would have left everything behind years ago and searched the world for him.

  Only him. She let out a quiet, calming sigh. Only him.

  He was cursing himself, slowly, steadily, viciously. Innocent. Dear God. She’d been innocent, as fresh and untouched as spring, and he’d used her, hurt her, taken
her.

  Disgusted with himself, he sat up and reached for a cigar. He needed more than tobacco. He needed a drink, but he didn’t trust his legs to carry him.

  The flick of his lighter sounded like a gunshot. For an instant his face, hardened by anger and self-loathing, was illuminated.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Still floating on an ocean of pleasure, she blinked her eyes open. “What?”

  “Damn it, Rebecca, why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t been with a man before? That this—that I was your first?”

  There was an edge of accusation in his voice. For the first time, she realized she was naked. Her cheeks grew hot as she fumbled for the sheet. One moment there was glory; the next, shame. “I didn’t think of it.”

  “Didn’t think of it?” His head whipped around. “Don’t you think I had a right to know? Do you think this would have happened if I had known?”

  She shook her head. It was true that she hadn’t thought of it. It hadn’t mattered. He was the first, the last, the only. But now it occurred to her that a man like him might not want to make love with an inexperienced woman. “I’m sorry.” Her heart seemed to shrivel in her breast. “You said that you loved me, that you wanted me. The rest didn’t seem to matter.”

  She’d cried out. He’d heard the shock and pain in her voice. And he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Yes, he needed a drink. “It mattered,” he tossed back as he rose and strode into the other room.

  Alone, she let out a shuddering breath. Of course it mattered. Only a fool would have thought otherwise. He’d thought he was dealing with an experienced, emotionally mature woman who knew how to play the game. Words like love and need and want were interchangeable. Yes, he’d said he loved her, but to many love was physical and physical only.

  She’d made a fool of herself and she’d infuriated him, and all because she’d begun a relationship built on illusions.

  She’d knowingly taken the risk, Rebecca reminded herself as she climbed out of bed. Now she’d pay the price.

  He was calmer when he started back to the bedroom. Calmer, though anger still bubbled inside him. First he would show her how it should have been, how it could be. Then they had to talk, rationally, coherently.

  “Rebecca …” But when he looked at the bed it was empty.

  She was wrapped in a robe and was hurling clothing into her suitcase when she heard him knock. With a shake of her head, she rubbed the tears from her cheeks and continued her frenzied packing. She wouldn’t answer … She wouldn’t answer and be humiliated again.

  “Rebecca.” The moment of calm he’d achieved had vanished. Swearing through gritted teeth, he pounded on the door. “Rebecca, this is ridiculous. Open this door.”

  Ignoring him, she swept bottles and tubes of toiletries off the bureau and into her bag. He’d go away, she told herself, hardly aware that she’d begun to sob. He’d go away and then she’d leave, take a cab to the airport and catch the first plane to anywhere.

  The sound of splintering wood had her rushing into the parlor in time to see the door give way.

  She’d thought she’d seen fury before, but she’d been wrong. She saw it now as she stared into Stephen’s face. Speechless, she looked from him to the broken door and back again.

  Elana, tying the belt of her robe, rushed down the hall. “Stephen, what’s happened? Is there a—”

  He turned on her, hurling one short sentence in clipped Greek at her. Her eyes widened and she backed away, sending Rebecca a look that combined sympathy and envy.

  “Do you think you have only to walk away from me?” He pushed the door back until it scraped against the battered jamb.

  “I want—” Rebecca lifted a hand to her throat as if to push the words out. “I want to be alone.”

  “The hell with what you want.” He started toward her, only to stop dead when she cringed and turned away. He’d forgotten what it was like to hurt, truly hurt, until that moment. “I asked you once if you were afraid of me. Now I see that you are.” Searching for control, he dipped his hands into the pockets of the slacks he’d thrown on. She looked defenseless, terrified, and tears still streaked her cheeks. “I won’t hurt you again. Will you sit?” When she shook her head, he bit off an oath. “I will.”

  “I know you’re angry with me,” she began when he’d settled into a chair. “I’ll apologize if it’ll do any good, but I do want to be alone.”

  His eyes had narrowed and focused. “You’ll apologize? For what?”

  “For …” What did he expect her to say? Humiliated, she crossed her arms and hugged her elbows. “For what happened … for not … explaining,” she finished lamely. “For whatever you like,” she continued as the tears started again. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Sweet God.” He rubbed a weary hand over his face. “I can think of nothing in my life I’ve handled as badly as this.” He rose, but stopped again when she automatically retreated. “You don’t want me to touch you.” His voice had roughened. He had to swallow to clear his throat. “I won’t, but I hope you’ll listen.”

  “There’s nothing more to say. I understand how you feel and why you feel it. I’d rather we just left it at that.”

  “I treated you inexcusably.”

  “I don’t want an apology.”

  “Rebecca—”

  “I don’t.” Her voice rose, stopping his words, stopping her tears. “It’s my fault. It’s been my fault all along. No, no, no!” she shouted when he took another step. “I don’t want you to touch me. I couldn’t bear it.”

  He sucked in his breath, then let it out slowly. “You twist the knife well.”

  But she was shaking her head and pacing the room now. “It didn’t matter at first—at least I didn’t think it would matter. I didn’t know who you were or that I would fall in love with you. Now I’ve waited too long and ruined everything.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Perhaps it was best, best for both of them, to lay out the truth. “You said you knew me, but you don’t, because I’ve done nothing but lie to you, right from the first moment.”

  Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself to the arm of a chair. “What have you lied to me about?”

  “Everything.” Her eyes were drenched with regret when she looked at him. “Then, tonight … First I found out that you own hotels. Own them.”

  “It was hardly a secret. Why should it matter?”

  “It wouldn’t.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “If I was what I’d pretended to be. After we’d made love and you— I realized that by pretending I’d let you have feelings for someone who didn’t even exist.”

  “You’re standing in front of me, Rebecca. You exist.”

  “No. Not the way you think, not the way I’ve let you think.”

  He prepared himself for the worst. “What have you done? Were you running away from America?”

  “No. Yes.” She had to laugh at that. “Yes, I was running.” She gathered what composure she had left and folded her hands. “I did come from Philadelphia, as I told you. I’ve lived there all my life. Lived there, went to school there, worked there.” She found a tissue in the pocket of her robe. “I’m an accountant.”

  He stared at her, one brow lifting, as she blew her nose. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said, I’m an accountant.” She hurled the words at him, then whirled away to face the window. Stephen started to rise, then thought better of it.

  “I find it difficult to imagine you tallying ledgers, Rebecca. If you’d sit down, maybe we could talk this through.”

  “Damn it, I said I’m an accountant. A CPA, specializing in corporate taxes. Up until a few weeks ago I worked for McDowell, Jableki and Kline in Philadelphia.”

  He spread his hands, taking it all in. “All right. What did you do? Embezzle?”

  She tossed back her head and nearly exploded with laughter. If she said yes he’d probably be intrigued. But the time for intrigue was over. The time for t
he truth was now. “No. I’ve never done anything illegal in my life. I’ve never even had a parking ticket. I’ve never done anything at all out of the ordinary until a few weeks ago.”

  She began to pace again, too agitated to keep still. “I’d never traveled, never had a man send a bottle of champagne to my table, never walked along the beach in the moonlight, never had a lover.”

  He said nothing, not because he was angry or bored but because he was fascinated.

  “I had a good job, my car was paid for, I had good, conservative investments that would have ensured me a comfortable retirement. In my circle of friends I’m known as dependable. If someone needs a sitter they know they can call Rebecca. If they need advice or someone to feed their fish while they’re on vacation they don’t have to worry. I was never late for work, never took five minutes extra for lunch.”

  “Commendable,” he said, and earned a glare.

  “Just the type of employee I imagine you’d like to hire.”

  He swallowed a chuckle. He’d been prepared for her to confess she had a husband, five husbands, a prison record. Instead she was telling him she was an accountant with an excellent work record. “I have no desire to hire you, Rebecca.”

  “Just as well.” She turned away and started to prowl the room again. “You’d undoubtedly change your mind after I tell you the rest.”

  Stephen crossed his ankles and settled back. God, what a woman she was. “I’m anxious to hear it.”

  “My aunt died about three months ago, suddenly.”

  “I’m sorry.” He would have gone to her then, but he could see she was far from ready. “I know how difficult it is to lose family.”

  “She was all I had left.” Because she needed something to do, she pushed open the balcony doors. Warm, fragrant night air rushed in. “I couldn’t believe she was gone. Just like that. No warning. Of course, I handled the funeral arrangements. No fuss, no frills. Just the way Aunt Jeannie would have wanted. She was a very economical woman, not only in finances but in dress, in speech, in manner. As long as I can remember, people compared me to her.”