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PROLOGUE
POWERFUL,STRONG,SELF-MADE. Alexandros Zacharidis didn’t make mistakes, but this was one of the biggest of his life.
He pulled away from her in shock, a thousand emotions possessing him, most keenly, betrayal and shock.
‘Cristos.’
Theresa stared up at him, all wide, amber eyes, innocent pink cheeks, passion-swollen lips.
‘Alex?’ She frowned, her confusion obvious. That only angered him more. How could she not understand what he was feeling? ‘What is it?’
Dumbfounded, he stared back, hands on hips, magnificent naked body on display, so her blush grew darker. ‘This should not have happened.’
Her lips tugged downwards, lips that had been dragging across his torso minutes earlier, lower, sensually tasting him, flicking...
He groaned softly. ‘It was a mistake.’
‘I don’t understand.’ She sat up straighter. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘You were a virgin.’ The words were hissed between his teeth, his eyes barely able to hold hers. It was bad enough that he’d slept with his best friend’s much younger sister, worse that he’d been her first, and unforgivable that it had happened on the day of Stavros’s burial. He cursed in his mind, every curse he could think of, while waiting for her to respond.
Her eyes dipped down, not meeting his, and he felt a rush of frustration.
This shouldn’t have happened, but it wasn’t her fault. At least, it wasn’t only her fault. He’d approached her, drawn her into an embrace, held her close until sympathy and grief had turned into something else, a low beating drum that had pulled at them both.
‘You should have told me.’
‘I—it didn’t occur to me.’ The words were heavy, uneven, as though she was fighting off tears. He needed to stop, to pull back, to let this go, but hell, he didn’t like being surprised, he didn’t like making mistakes. This was his worst nightmare.
‘Dammit, Theresa. What were you thinking, coming here with me? You know who I am, what I am. Why would you do this?’
‘I—thought—’ Her skin was pale now, whiter than paper, as she looked around the room, as if for the answers she couldn’t provide.
‘I asked you to my room. I thought my meaning was clear. Did you come here expecting to have sex with me?’
The brutal directness of the question should have stopped him in his tracks, but nothing could. He wanted answers; he needed to understand this.
‘Cristos, I need to know.’ He stared at her until she nodded slowly, eyes haunted.
‘Yes.’
‘Why in God’s name would you do that? You were a virgin. Did you think I would welcome this “gift”? Damn it, Theresa, you should have told me you were a virgin. I’m not interested in being your first. Do you understand what this was?’
Her lips parted and now her head moved side to side, her dark, glossy hair tumbling over her shoulders. Loyalty to Stavros should have held him silent, but Alex was blinded by emotion, shock at what he’d just allowed to happen overtaking all else.
‘Sex. Just sex, something I do with women all the time, and it means nothing. Nothing. You’re just a child, for God’s sake.’
She flinched, and again he told himself to stop, to pull back, but an anger was rushing through his veins that he’d never known before. Loyalty was something Alex considered to be an unwavering trait, and his loyalty to Stavros was second to none. His best friend’s body wasn’t cold in the ground and Alex had seduced his sister?
He turned his back, stalking across the room and staring at the wall, panic rising inside of him, and a strange feeling that he might vomit.
‘Get dressed, Theresa. You need to leave now.’
He left the room without a backwards glance, ashamed in a way he’d never forget for what he’d just allowed to happen. He swore that for as long as he lived he’d never think of her again, nor the weakness that had brought him to his knees.
A month after their night together, Theresa heard from Alex. It was unexpected, and completely unsettling. His voice at the other end of the line was businesslike. None of the passion they’d shared that night came through in his call, nor did the white-hot anger he’d expressed afterwards.
‘How are you?’
