The music in the club thumped like a heartbeat. It was making Alexandra’s head pound. She was done. This was her last night.

Dareios had won.

He’d proven he didn’t care what she did. She could seem to sleep with everyone and anyone. She could party all night, dance half naked in the Metaxourgeio fountain, and be photographed hanging off beautiful men and he wouldn’t so much as call to ask about her.

She gave a sigh, downed her drink, and started for the door. She’d sent the limo home hours ago. She’d have to call a taxi. Half way across the dance floor a man caught her wrist.

He spun her around and grinned. “I know you!”

She shook her head. She’d worn a shimmering gold dress and a golden necklace. The high-waisted dress fell in smooth pleats that flew out as he’d caught and turned her. She had her hair in a long, loose braid over one shoulder. “No, you don’t,” she said.

He grinned again. He had on a black suit and an open-necked black, silk shirt. Letting go of her he put his fingers to his mouth like fangs. “Now do you remember me? From Milan? I was Dracula and some masked man made off with you—but I saw you later, sitting with him.” He touched her hair. “I like you better as a blonde.”

She started to turn away, but he caught her hand and pulled her to him. “You still owe me a dance.”

Pushing on his chest with the heels of her hands, she leaned away. He smelled of whiskey and sour breath. “I owe you nothing.”

And then a hand closed on her shoulder, another hand gripped the man’s wrist, and Dareios stepped between them, peeling away the man in black’s hand from her. “Excuse me, but it seems you are bothering my woman.”

“Yours?” The man in black glanced at her and then at Dareios. “Sorry. Word of advice. You should keep a better eye on her. She’s too pretty to leave on her own.”

“She is. But no woman should have to put up with you, my friend. Now do us all a favor and leave. You’re stinking drunk.”

Muttering, the man in black turned away. Dareios turned to Alexandra, and her heart thudded faster. She swallowed and lifted her chin, hoping she wasn’t showing that she was still shaking inside. “Yours am I? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his arms. “Dance with me.”

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll ask again, and again, and again until you say yes.”

She fought down a smile. “Is that what you plan to do as well to make me yours?”

He grinned. “No, for that I was thinking of taking you back to my place where I can better prove just how much we do belong to each other.”

She pressed her body against him. “Let’s go now. I’ve been waiting for almost a month for you to realize that.”

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her with him and out of the club. Standing on the street, Alexandra shivered. The night had gone chilly. Dareios put an arm over her shoulder and gave the valet his ticket to get his car. She snuggled into him. This was right—having Dareios close to her. This was good.

When they got back to his apartment, she didn’t wait for him to get the door closed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He managed to kick the door shut, and then he started to undo her clothes.

She pulled at his, all the time keeping their mouths fused. He pulled her with him onto the thick rug. Naked now, she gasped when he pushed into her. It was shocking—and wonderful. Bracing on his palms, he pushed in again. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to open wider for him.

“You…are…mine,” he said with every thrust.

“Yes…yes,” she whispered. And then she came apart. She could feel him spurting hot into her and she gave a sigh. He collapsed next to her, and she could hear his ragged breathing matching her own. She traced a small circle on his chest and asked, “What are we going to tell Antonio?”

Dareios kissed her forehead. “I’ll think of something. But it had better be soon. And I think it better involve a wedding.”

She propped herself up on one elbow. “What about you not being able to settle with one woman? What about—”

He put a finger on her lips. “I was being an idiot it seems. As to one woman—you are more than that. You’re everything I’ve ever needed and I never knew it. You’re certainly almost more than I can handle.”

She smiled. “Am I?”

“I said almost. And now, let’s plan what we’re going to tell your brother.”

Leaning down, she traced a finger over his chest and to his nipple. “Are you certain there isn’t something else you’d rather be doing?”

With a groan, he pulled her down to him.