“Giannis, if you can believe it, made us take classes. He was determined to transform Stavros and me from the little thugs we were.” She shivered as he pulled her closer. “But I’m not at all surprised that you move like every man’s fantasy.”
Her gaze flew to his, but it was only full of a wicked light. There was no judgment in his tone, implied or otherwise. It was her own shame that ricocheted through her, that led her to drop her gaze.
He tipped her chin up. “You dance beautifully, Jas,” he said so tenderly that she couldn’t help but smile in return, warmed to the farthest corners of her heart by the depth of his perception.
Stepping back, he looked at her from her hair in an elegant knot to the pendant and the elegant knee-length beige silk dress that Leah had chosen for her, all the way to her feet tucked in nude-colored pumps.
Tingling at his leisurely perusal, she reached for his hand when he frowned.
“You’re not wearing the diamond necklace. Why?”
He had spoken softly, yet the displeasure in his tone was clear. “I...”
“Let’s get out of here.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. Clasping her fingers, he tugged her off the dance floor and through the throng of guests, to a path that went away from the crowd.
After another couple of minutes, they arrived at a side door to the house, and then they were in a study that was utterly masculine from the dark brown leather sofas to a huge mahogany table to the scent of cigars that permeated it.
When voices filtered through an open window, Dmitri closed it with a firm click.
“Now.” Turning to her, he lifted her over the table, pushed her legs apart as far as the dress allowed, which was indecent enough for her, and stood between them until she was straddling him. “All I have been able to think about is this...”
He claimed her mouth with a hunger that buckled her knees. Instantly, Jasmine was lost in a sea of spiraling sensations.
With a hand on his chest, she pushed at him, and his mouth released hers and slid lower to her neck.
“Please, Dmitri, wait. I want to talk.”
“I’m not used to being denied what I want, pethi mou,” he breathed against the pulse in her neck, while his thigh lodged square against her aching sex. “And I want you, need you more than I need air.”
With that, he moved his leg and tremors spread through her lower belly. Her hands on his shoulders, Jasmine moved, needing that pressure to push her to the edge.
An arrogant, utterly masculine smile on his face, he obliged. And the satisfaction in that male gaze told Jasmine how easily and effortlessly she was playing into his arms. If she didn’t hold her own even a little now, she never would be able to in the future, she realized. However murky the future was right now.
She dug her teeth into his lower lip and pulled, until he looked up with a guttural groan. “I want to talk, so hands off, Dmitri.”
He ran a long finger over his lower lip, his eyes threatening retribution. Jasmine held her breath, knowing that she wouldn’t last a minute if he didn’t back off.
“Please.” She pouted, lowering her voice. “If you let me talk first, then I’ll do whatever you want tonight.”
He turned his neck this way and that, and his broad chest rose and fell. It was like watching a predator take a step back from his prey. “So talk. And tell me why you’re not wearing the diamond set I ordered for you?”
In the face of his ruthlessly direct question, she floundered. God, had she ever thought this man frivolous and uncaring? The intensity of his looks, his touch, even his questions spun her head. She lifted the diamond with not-so-steady fingers. “You already gave me a diamond.”
“That’s all I could afford then. Now I can—”
“It was far too expensive.” She injected some steel into her words, and when he scowled, she added hurriedly, “Really, where am I going to wear it to, Dmitri? I have no need for such—”
“You’ll have lots of occasions.” Masculine satisfaction dripped from every word. “Tomorrow morning, there will be a stylist here. Order yourself a new wardrobe, everything you want.”
“You’re just angry that I steal your shirts, aren’t you?” she quipped, trying to hide her anxiety.
He kissed her then, just a quick touch of their mouths. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything sexier than you wearing my shirt, matia mou. But I—”
“I have some really exciting news,” she said, interrupting what she sensed was another argument she wouldn’t win right now. A thread of unease began to permeate her mood, like the charge that built in the air long before the storm burst.