Irresistible Greeks: Red-Hot and Rich: His Reputation Precedes Him / An Offer She Can't Refuse / Pretender to the Throne. Emma Darcy
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buildings and the lush green park.
‘I seem to recall you said you thought of Lyonedes Tower as just another tall building blocking the view,’ Markos reminded her as he joined her at the window.
Eva gave a wince at this reminder of the bluntness of her conversation when they first met. ‘I may have been a little…impolite to you at the party on Saturday evening.’
‘May have been?’ he taunted softly.
‘I was impolite,’ she conceded.
‘Any particular reason why…?’
‘Does there have to be a reason?’ Eva glanced sideways at Markos, totally aware of how close he was now standing to her. Close enough for her to inhale the heady combination of the lemon soap and sandalwood aftershave. Close enough that their arms were almost touching. Close enough that Eva was now fully aware of the heat emanating from Markos’s body.
Close enough that Eva could barely breathe for wanting to close that short distance between them and lose herself to the feel of those sensuously chiselled lips devouring her own.
Instead she rushed into speech. ‘I behaved badly—unprofessionally—and I apologise.’
He arched dark brows. ‘Does that mean you’ve reconsidered and are now willing to give me—and my reputation—the benefit of the doubt…?’
‘I’m not sure I would go that far,’ she said warily.
‘Liar,’ Markos murmured huskily. He’d seen the way those luscious golden eyes had darkened to amber, the slight flush appearing in Eva’s porcelain cheeks. Her lips were slightly moist and parted. As if waiting to be kissed.
As if she realised that was Markos’s intention, Eva took a step back and away from him. ‘I really do have to go now. If you’ve changed your mind about considering my designs—’ She broke off as Markos took another step forward, until they were now once again standing so close they were almost touching. She gave a determined shake of her head. ‘Markos, if you’re trying to intimidate me then I think I should warn you—’
‘Warn me of what…?’ Markos murmured throatily, even as he raised one of his hands to cup the warmth of her cheek, before moving the soft pad of his thumb over the softness of her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath against his fingers as he parted those lips in preparation for his kiss.
His own arousal intensified at the feel of that sensual warmth against his skin. His shaft was hard and pulsing, demanding…
Eva’s eyes were wide, deep amber pools as she stared up at him. ‘I should warn you—’
‘Yes…?’ Markos prompted softly, holding that wide and startled gaze with his own as his head began to lower towards hers.
She breathed softly. ‘I really should warn you—’
‘Warn me later, hmm?’ he dismissed gruffly, before finally claiming those full and pouting lips with his own.
Eva totally forgot what it was she wanted to warn Markos about as his other arm moved firmly about her waist and he pulled her in tightly against the heat of his body, angling her face up to his before his mouth finally took possession of hers.
Markos’s kiss was everything that Eva had known it would be—not in any way a gentle exploration, but an instant explosion of the senses, taste, smell, feel, and it felt so good to be against the hard heat of his body as they kissed hungrily, deeply, lips devouring, tongues duelling.
Eva tightly gripped Markos’s shoulders, her legs feeling weak as he crushed the ache of her breasts against his chest. Heat pooled between her thighs as she felt the hard throb of his arousal pressing insistently against her.
The sky could have fallen at that moment, the building collapsed around them, and Eva wouldn’t have noticed, too lost in the heat that consumed them both as Markos’s hands moved down to cup her bottom and pull her in more tightly. He ground his erection against and into her even as their mouths drank greedily of each other.
Eva was on fire, her inner ice melting, and her fingers became entangled in the dark hair at Markos’s nape as she returned that heat, needing, wanting—
She wanted Markos Lyonedes…!
‘OH, I’m terribly sorry! I had no idea…!’
Eva wrenched her mouth free of Markos’s to push against the hardness of his chest in an effort to free herself as she heard that startled gasp from the other side of the room. Her cheeks were aflame with embarrassed colour as she turned to see the middle-aged woman who had shown her into the office earlier—obviously Markos’s secretary—now standing in the open doorway, her eyes wide with shock at having interrupted them in a moment of intimacy.
Eva’s efforts to free herself proved totally ineffective as Markos’s arms tightened about her. ‘Let go of me!’ she said fiercely under her breath.
His only answer was to give her an amused glance before turning to look at the woman still standing in the doorway. ‘Are you ready to leave for the day…?’
The woman looked flustered. ‘I was about to, yes. I—Yes.’
In stark contrast, Markos appeared completely at his ease as he nodded. ‘Thanks, Lena, I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Mr Lyonedes. Ms Grey.’ The woman Markos called Lena didn’t meet either of their gazes before she quickly turned and left the room, closing the door briskly behind her.
‘I asked you to let go of me!’ Eva instructed, agitated as she once again pushed against the solid muscle that was Markos’s chest. That particular moment of madness was definitely over.
‘Do I have to?’
‘Yes!’
‘Why?’
Eva glared up at him. ‘Because I asked you to.’
He regarded her with amused green eyes. ‘And do you always get what you ask for?’
Sometimes Eva got a lot more than she asked for! For instance, she hadn’t asked to be attracted to this man. Just as she hadn’t asked to enjoy his experienced lips moving so surely and sensually against and over her own. Or to feel her heart almost leap out of her chest as she recognised her own desire to feel and taste the hardness of Markos’s obvious arousal throbbing against the heat of her thighs. All of them were emotions Eva had believed herself to be incapable of feeling. Emotions she didn’t want to feel!
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you…’ she murmured, before reaching behind her to grasp one of his hands, bringing it forward before bending the wrist up at a painful angle as she slipped deftly out of his arms before releasing him.
‘Ouch!’ Markos frowned as he grasped his pained wrist. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’ He eyed her with bemusement once he was sure nothing was broken.
‘Self-defence classes.’ She briskly straightened her jacket before checking that her hair was still neatly secured at her nape, sincerely hoping that Markos couldn’t see that her hands were trembling as she did so. ‘A necessary evil since I moved to New York.’ She shrugged unapologetically.
‘Hmm.’ Markos grimaced as he once again leant back against his desk. ‘You never did tell me the reason you moved to New York.’
She raised dark brows. ‘Probably because that’s another one of those things I consider personal.’
Markos regarded her from between narrowed lids for several long seconds. ‘There was obviously a man involved,’ he finally murmured speculatively.
She gave a derisive laugh. ‘What a typically arrogant male conclusion.’
He