The Virgin's Secret by Abby Green Page A

of him so she had to hurry to keep up with his much longer strides.
    He brought her into a huge bathroom, switched on the light, and rummaged around for something in a cupboard. Angel could see that it was a first aid kit, and blustered, ‘Oh, no, don’t. Let me—’
    â€˜Sit down and be quiet.’
    Angel was forced to sit down on the closed toilet seat, and she watched incredulously as Leo knelt before her and inspected the cut. And then he brought her finger to his mouth and sucked it deeply.
    Angel’s breath stopped. She tried to pull back, but he was too strong. Finally he let her finger go and said tersely, while inspecting it again, ‘I want to make sure there’s no glass in it. It’s a deep cut, but I don’t think you need stitches.’
    Thoroughly bemused, and feeling as if reality as she knew it had morphed out of all existence, Angel watched as Leo expertly and gently cleaned the cut and placed a tight plaster around the top of her finger.
    Then, just as perfunctorily, he led the way back downstairs, this time into a drawing room adjacent to the other side of the hall. She saw someone scurrying out of the study with a dustpan and brush. Leo let go of her hand and Angel scooted over beside a couch, sitting gingerly on the edge because she didn’t think she could stand.
    Leo poured a measure of something dark and golden— like his eyes —into a glass and brought it over. His mouth was set in a grim line. Angel accepted it with both hands, while avoiding his eyes. She didn’t drink much alcohol at all, but right now she welcomed the prospect of its numbing quality.

CHAPTER THREE
    L EO watched Angel take the glass in both hands, a curiously child-like gesture that made something in his chest twist. He wanted to wring her pretty neck. But he also wanted to flatten her back against the couch and finish what they’d started in the study. He could still remember how it had felt to roll his tongue over her small tight nipple, the way she’d arched into him, and he had to use iron will right now to control the rush of response.
    He had not meant to ravish Angel standing in the study like that. The impulse to kiss her had been born out of his inarticulate rage that she had such a visceral effect on him, especially when he knew exactly who and what she was. But the kiss had got out of control very quickly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so consumed, to the extent that he’d shut out every clamouring voice in his head. Until she’d said Leo with that husky catch, and her hips had jerked against his hand, and he’d emerged from what had felt like a trance.
    He’d touched down in Athens barely three hours ago and was still reeling slightly at facing the reality that he’d willingly upended his life. Feeling acutely vulnerable again, Leoturned and strode back to the sideboard, to pour himself a drink and try and gather his scattered thoughts. They’d scattered as soon as he’d taken the call from the security guard and seen who was at the gate. For a disturbing second he’d almost believed he was imagining her.
    And yet he couldn’t deny that he’d felt a rush of pure sensual excitement at seeing Angel approaching the house. It had eclipsed the disappointment he’d felt that her effect on him hadn’t grown less in the interim.
    Her guilt had been obvious from the moment she’d gone straight to the kitchen entrance rather than come to the main door. And then, when he’d seen her creeping through the house like the little thief she was, something hard had solidified in his chest.
    He hated to admit it but he had thought that perhaps he’d judged her too swiftly. Seeing the evidence of her avarice in front of his eyes tonight had made a fool of him again . She was no innocent. Hadn’t years of witnessing hardened New York socialites in action taught him anything?
    As he poured himself