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The slight tremor of her lower lip betrayed her vulnerability and stirred his protective instincts. ‘Tony, the boy from school, was my first boyfriend. His reaction to my scar knocked my confidence and I retreated from the dating scene and focused on getting good grades in my exams.’
Eleanor sighed. ‘Pappoús was so proud when I was accepted into Oxford University. He made it clear that he did not want me to be distracted from my studies, so I didn’t get involved much in student life because I wanted his approval. As a child with scoliosis I was sure that my parents couldn’t love me as much as they loved my brother and sister, but when they died I was my grandfather’s favourite. I realise now that he was controlling,’ she said ruefully. ‘He groomed me from when I was quite young to be his successor as head of Gilpin Leisure.’
Eleanor said earnestly, ‘I’m not ruthless like Pappoús, and I regret that he cheated your father out of his share of the Pangalos.’
The protective feeling that Jace could not ignore tugged in his chest when he saw the sparkle of tears on her lashes. ‘I knew within minutes of meeting you that you are not morally reprehensible like your grandfather,’ he told her gruffly. He ran his finger lightly down her cheek, tracing the path of a single tear, and then walked across the room and switched on the music system.
‘Dance with me,’ he murmured when he returned to her and drew her into his arms.
‘You want todance?’
She was stiff with tension, her eyes huge and full of uncertainty. Her defencelessness made his gut twist because he knew he must accept some of the blame for her wariness. But there was awareness in her gaze too. Desire that he easily recognised because it burned in him with the same fierce intensity.
‘Humour me, hmm?’ He urged her to move with him to the slow tempo of the seductive jazz number, sliding his hand down to her bottom to pull her closer so that her pelvis was flush with his. He heard her soft gasp when she felt the hardness of his arousal. And he ached.Theos, how he ached to carry her over to the bed, shove her dress up to her waist and thrust his swollen shaft between her soft thighs.
But Jace knew he must curb his impatience. His beautiful virginal wife needed careful handling. His wife! Odd how possessive he felt, and in a far recess of his mind an alarm bell sounded. He ignored it and continued to dance with her, hip to hip, her soft breasts crushed against the hard wall of his chest. The sultry fragrance of her perfume filled his senses when he pressed his lips to her throat and kissed his way up to nuzzle the tender place behind her ear.
Gradually he felt her relax as their bodies swayed with the music. Eleanor rubbed her pelvis sinuously against him.Don’t rush her, Jace warned himself, but he had never known desire like this, so hot and urgent. She entranced him more than any woman ever had, and he exhaled a ragged breath when he untied the front of her dress and pushed the two sides apart.
Her breasts were perfect round peaches, the creamy skin softly flushed with pink and tipped with darker nipples that swelled to hard peaks when he stroked his thumb pads over them. He pushed her dress off her shoulders so that she was naked apart from a pair of tiny panties. When he slipped his hand between her legs he felt the wetness of her arousal that drenched her silky underwear.
‘Jace...’ Eleanor’s sweet breath filled his mouth and he felt a quiver run through her as he eased the panel of her knickers aside and rubbed his finger over her moist opening until, like a rosebud unfurling, her soft folds parted to allow him to push the tip of his finger into her.
For her—all for her. He fought to bring his rampant libido under control, but his resolve to take things slowly was tested when she undid his shirt buttons and skimmed her hands over his bare chest. With a muttered curse, he scooped her up in his arms and strode over to the bed. He laid her on the mattress and rolled her onto her stomach.
She instantly tensed and tried to turn over, but he gently held her there with a hand on her shoulder and traced his other hand lightly along her spine, following the path of the thin white scar that snaked all the way down from her neck to the small of her back. She flinched, and he instantly stopped.
‘Does your scar hurt when I touch it?’
‘No. But how can you bear to touch it?’ she choked. ‘It’s grotesque.’
Jace frowned. ‘Do you often take a look at your back?’
‘I never look at it. The nurse in the hospital held up a mirror so that I could see my scar after she had removed the dressing. I was so shocked.’ There was a catch in Eleanor’s voice. ‘The nurse warned me that there was still a lot of bruising, which would fade, but the scar looked like I had been sliced in half. It’s an ugly, raised purple wound.’ She pushed up from the mattress. ‘Please don’t look at it. I hate it. I hate...my body.’
‘Eleanor,mou,’ Jace said deeply. His lungs felt oddly constricted when she hung her head and refused to look at him. A tear dripped from her face onto the black satin bedsheet and was joined by another damp spot and another. He stood up and held out his hand to her. ‘Come with me.’
‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t need you to escort me to my bedroom.’
She swung her legs off the bed, and he caught hold of her hand and led her over to the long mirror on the wall. ‘Stand there.’
‘Why? What are you doing?’
Instead of replying, Jace picked up the free-standing mirror from the dressing table and positioned himself behind her, holding the mirror at an angle so that Eleanor could see the reflection of her back. ‘Your scar is not as you have pictured it in your mind,’ he said softly. ‘It’s more than ten years since you had the surgery, and perhaps immediately afterwards the scar was more obvious. As you can see, it has faded. But, even if it hadn’t, a scar would not detract from your beauty.’
He saw her throat work as she swallowed. ‘It...it’s not as bad as I thought,’ she said slowly. ‘Not as red and lumpy as it was in the hospital.’ Her eyes met Jace’s in the mirror. ‘But I am scarred. My body will never be perfect.’
‘Your body would not beyourbody without your scar,’ he said intently. ‘You are perfect. There is a quote by a philosopher, Matshona Dhliwayo:“Scars are a warrior’s beauty marks.”You are a warrior, Eleanor.’ Jace turned her to face him and wiped away her tears with his thumb pads. ‘You are not defined by your scar, but your strength and great compassion are a result of everything you have been through.’
Eleanor was drowning in Jace’s dark gaze. She did not feel like a warrior and her stomach gave a nervous flip when he moved his hand to the zip on his trousers. She watched him undress and caught her breath when he lowered his boxer shorts to reveal the jutting, hard length of his manhood. Naked, he was a Greek god: powerfully muscular, his bronzed skin gleaming like satin in the lamplight.
‘If you keep looking at me like that, this is going to be over embarrassingly quickly,’ he growled. ‘I want to make your first time good for you.’
She bit her lip and dragged her gaze from his impressively large erection up to his face. ‘I’ve never touched a man...there,’ she admitted.
‘Theos!You’re going to kill me.’ He took her hand and placed it on his body, where the dark hairs grew thickly at his groin. Eleanor was fascinated by his masculine form as she ran her fingers lightly along his shaft and he shuddered. He felt like steel wrapped in velvet and the prospect of taking him inside her made her hesitate.
‘Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?’ Jace asked thickly. ‘I would not try to force you in any way.’
