‘What?’ he demanded, even as he smoothed the shimmering fabric of her gown back over the rouged breast.
She jerked back, as if her swollen flesh was too tender for his touch. He knew how she felt—his aching erection was so hard it hurt.
He shielded her, grateful for the darkness, as he buttoned his jacket to cover himself.
‘What is it, Dimitri?’ he asked, managing to temper his voice, and not take his frustration out on his staff.
‘Sir, Prince Andreas is looking for you both. He wishes to…’ He could hear the embarrassment in the young man’s voice. ‘He asked me to locate his daughter.’
The swift shot of shame came first. Had Dimitri seen what they had been doing together? But then anger flared.
Who did the prince think he was dealing with? Theo Caras wasn’t a street rat any more… But as his outrage consumed him, right behind it was the knowledge he had been moments away from releasing himself from his pants to thrust deep inside her. If he hadn’t been so absorbed in watching her go over first, Dimitri would have caught him taking the prince’s precious daughter against a wall.
He raked his fingers through his hair, aware of her ragged breathing as she tried frantically to repair her dress.
‘Tell the prince we will be with him shortly,’ he said, his voice vibrating with barely concealed contempt now.
Dimitri nodded and headed back through the grove of lemon and olive trees, where the guests had begun to dance to the world-famous DJ who had been hired to finish the evening.
Damn, anyone could have wandered past the tree line and seen them.
But why should he be ashamed of what they’d done? It had been mutual, their chemistry explosive, and she’d begged him to touch her, not the other way around.
What did disturb him, though, was his spectacular loss of control.
He never denied his sexual needs, but he’d also never taken a woman against a wall, especially one he now suspected mightnot be quite as experienced as he had assumed, from the deep flush on her cheeks.
‘It seems your father wishes to know how your seduction is progressing,’ he said, only half joking. But then his usual cynicism returned.
He’d found her honesty about her father’s intentions tonight refreshing and surprisingly forthright. But now he was wondering if that had been a trick, to lure him into doing exactly what he’d just done—fall on her like a starving man… And prove her father right, that a man like him could not be trusted to treat any woman with restraint.
And what if someone had seen them together, or, worse, photographed them? While this segment of the roof garden was not immediately visible to the rest of the guests, it was visible from the street below, and the upper floors of the buildings that rose from the port area. And those bastards had telephoto lenses—just ask Xander.
A new wave of anger consumed him at the thought of his brother. While Theo had never been ashamed of his actions, he knew Xander would have been unhappy if pictures of Theo screwing his former fiancée had ended up in the press.
Because Xander wanted them to have class.
A class that Theo now realised he not only lacked but couldn’t even fake where Princess Freya was concerned.
He had no intention of offering this woman marriage, but how did he explain treating her like a whore?
She blinked, her gaze still glassy. Was that shock? Or stunned afterglow? Or was her dazed expression now just another part of her clever act to garner his sympathy and cooperation?
What infuriated him was that he had no idea what her motives were any more. All he knew was the pain in his pants was not going away. And just looking at her—the dishevelled hair, the rouged patches on her chin and her cleavage where hisstubble had burned her skin—was still turning him on to the point of madness.
The knowledge that whatever her motives, he still wanted her—with a feral hunger that reminded him of the boy he’d been, starving for so many things he could not have—only disturbed him more.
Because he’d spent a lifetime satisfying his needs so he would never be starving again. But he could not have this woman in the way he wanted, without being tricked into marriage.
She pressed her hand to her hair. ‘I should… I sh-should go to my father.’
The hitch in her voice made him feel like a brute.
She had asked him to touch her. Was she regretting that now?
He grasped her wrist as she attempted to pass him, annoyed by the need to protect her—when his hunger for her was already so problematic.
‘Wait, we should return together,’ he managed.
