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Appalled at himself, Castor grabbed what was left of it—and it was disturbing how much strength even that took—and let her go, shoving himself away from her.
He was breathing hard—too hard—and before he knew what he was doing, he’d put a hand through his hair and had begun adjusting his clothing like a prim Regency miss who’d just been taken advantage of.
Glory was leaning against the wall, her eyes dark, her cheeks flushed, her mouth full and red from the effects of that kiss.
She looked shell-shocked and he was gripped by a sudden, sickening doubt that she hadn’t wanted this, that he’d taken advantage of her, that the company he kept had stained him irretrievably and he couldn’t be trusted.
Yet before he could get a word out, she said, ‘I’m so sorry, Castor. I shouldn’t have done that.’
For a second he could only stare at her, not understanding what she was apologising for when all of this had been his fault.
‘Why are you sorry?’ He knew he should temper his voice, make it gentle, make it warm and charming. But there was no charm left in him. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed you up against the wall, and I shouldn’t have asked for that kiss. And I should be the one apologising.’
Glory looked stricken. ‘Why? What happened? Did I do it wrong? It was probably terrible. I’ve never kissed anyone before so no wonder—’
‘Wait.’ He held up a hand, trying to understand what on earth she was talking about. ‘What do you mean “it was probably terrible”?’
She was making small fluttering gestures with her hands as if she didn’t know what to do with them. ‘I...well... It’s just that it was no wonder you pushed me away. I’m not very good at this.’
‘You think I ended the kiss because it was terrible?’
Her cheeks had gone even redder, making those pretty freckles stand out. ‘Isn’t that why? You didn’t want my...uh...what I was trying to sell you earlier and then I just kind of k-kissed you and—’
‘Stop,’ he ordered and even though he knew it was probably better for both of them if he let her believe he hadn’t been moved by that kiss, he couldn’t lie to her like that. ‘Let me be clear. I didn’t end that kiss because I wanted to. I ended that kiss because I wanted to keep going.’
Her mouth opened, her gaze wide and shocked, as if she didn’t quite believe what he was saying.
‘And now,’ he went on. ‘Since I have a fair few things to organise, I’ll let Corinna see you home. I’ll be in touch, Glory Albright.’
Then before she could speak, he turned and strode from the room.
Before he changed his mind and continued where they’d left off.
CHAPTER FIVE
GLORYSPENTTHEnext couple of days half thinking what had happened in Castor Xenakis’s mansion was a dream. That she hadn’t really gone there offering to sell him her virginity. That he hadn’t got angry and refused her, before suddenly turning around and asking her to marry him for...reasons he then wouldn’t tell her. And that she hadn’t taken his hand, risen up on her toes and kissed him.
A kiss that had set her entire world on fire.
It was too bright a memory. Like the sun, she couldn’t look at it directly without being blinded by the heat of that moment.
His mouth on hers. The demand of it. His hands in her hair, exerting the most delicious pressure. The feel of his body, hard and strong and so hot. The way he’d kissed her, as if he wanted to consume her whole...
It was everything she’d ever imagined and her entire being shivered in response.
Then he’d looked at her like he’d never seen anything like her in his entire life. As if she was something totally new and different and he didn’t know what to make of her.
She’d liked that. She’d never been new and different to anyone before, still less a man as experienced and worldly as him. And yes, she’d liked thatverymuch indeed.
She’d been delivered home that night in a sleek black car driven by one of Castor’s staff members, and as she’d stumbled into the run-down apartment she shared with Annabel, she’d felt oddly like Cinderella. Except the car had disappeared into the LA night instead of turning back into a pumpkin, and her dress and shoes remained, looking as cheap and tacky as they had when she’d put them on at the beginning of the evening.
She’d told Annabel before she’d left that she was going out with friends, which her sister had been vaguely suspicious of since Glory didn’t really have friends, but luckily Annabel had been asleep by the time she’d let herself inside, so she didn’t get the third degree about her evening.
Half bracing herself for it the next morning, it was a relief to find Annabel too distracted about some email she’d just received to be concerned about Glory’s night out. The email had apparently informed her that she was the lucky recipient of a special grant from a charity who helped cancer patients achieve their baby dreams with subsidised IVF.
Glory blinked in surprise as Annabel relayed all of this, because she’d never heard of such a charity. But as Annabel went on excitedly, Glory realised that there was only one person who could have organised it.
Castor. And he was making good on his promise.
