She strolled over to the rail, trying to look as though this sort of thing happened to her every day. She’d never had the opportunity to even look at clothes of this quality and style before, let alone wear them. In awe she fingered a silk skirt so short that it was almost indecent.

‘Good choice,’ he said cynically from immediately behind her. ‘That skirt has “slut” written all over it, and seeing as that’s what you are you might as well advertise the fact.’

She turned on him, eyes flashing with hurt, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. ‘And if I’m a slut, what does that make you?’

‘Sexually satisfied,’ he mocked, removing her towel with a single, purposeful jerk of his bronzed hand.

She gave a gasp of shock and grabbed at the towel but he held it out of reach, his eyes slightly narrowed as they swept over her naked body.

‘You really do have the most amazing body,’ he murmured, skimming a hand over one full breast. Immediately Alesia’s nipples peaked and he gave a low laugh. ‘And you really, really want me, don’t you? If we weren’t pushed for time I’d take you straight back to bed and try yet another position.’

Her face scarlet with mortification, Alesia tried to turn away from him but he swung her round to face him, his hands holding her firmly.

‘Just don’t be tempted to flirt with anyone else tonight,’ he warned. ‘You may be a slut but you’re mine alone. I never share.’


Still horribly conscious of her nudity, Alesia stared at him in disbelief, reminding herself that this man knew absolutely nothing about her. She’d never flirted in her life and wouldn’t even know where to begin. Because of her situation she’d always avoided that sort of contact with men. Had avoided relationships deeper than friendship.

Sebastien reached out a hand and grabbed a top from the rail. ‘Wear this with the skirt,’ he ordered, ‘and no bra.’

She stared at the clothes in dismay. She’d never worn anything like them in her life. ‘I c-can’t go braless,’ she stammered. ‘I’m too—’

‘Curvaceous?’ he taunted her. ‘Plenty of people out there are wondering why I married you. I intend to show them.’

Goaded beyond reason by his taunts, she turned on him. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer me to just go out in my underwear?’ Her tone dripped sarcasm and he gave a slow smile.

‘This is going to be even sexier than underwear, trust me.’

Alesia closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe this was happening. ‘You can’t make me wear that outfit.’

‘Don’t test me, Alesia,’ he warned softly.

‘Fine.’ She yanked the outfit out of his hand, grabbed a handful of the cosmetics and shot him a defiant look. ‘If you want the whole world to know you married a slut, then that’s up to you. Let’s broadcast it, shall we?’

She stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.


SEBASTIEN checked his watch and paced the length of his bedroom one more time.

Never before had he had reason to question his mental acuity, but nothing about his new wife was making sense. She was an heiress in her own right, had demanded an extortionate sum of money from him on her wedding day, a sum which he knew had already vanished from her account—and yet there were no visible signs of profligate spending. She’d led a pampered and privileged existence from the day she was born, and yet she’d been in the kitchen making her own lunch as if she did it every day. And she’d been wearing a pair of ancient jeans that no previous woman of his acquaintance would have been seen dead in. It did not add up.

When he’d married Alesia Philipos he’d expected rich, pampered, shallow and boring. In his eyes her only redeeming feature had been her incredible face and body and her apparent willingness to display it. What he hadn’t expected was complex—and his new wife was definitely complex.

Realising that she’d been in the bathroom for the best part of an hour, Sebastien stared at the closed door in brooding contemplation. What could she be doing in there that was taking so long?

Never good at waiting at the best of times, he was at the point of breaking down the bathroom door in search of an answer when the lock finally clicked and Alesia stepped back into the bedroom.

Sebastien stilled, his usually restless gaze arrested by the girl standing in front of him.

Only years of experience in controlling his facial expression prevented his jaw from hitting the ground.

Whatever she’d been doing in the bathroom all that time, the end result was spectacular.

Sarah Morgan Books | Billionaire Romance Books |