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I feel my shoulders fall. “What do you mean?”
“There’ll be terms to this deal.”
“Like what, a contract?”
“Now that you mention it.” He bobs his head. “Could be a good idea. Don’t want you backing out of your word to give me her will.”
My eyes flash to his. “I wouldn’t do that.”
He makes a noise that plainly states he doesn’t believe me.
I feel so defeated, I just want to cry. “Can we finish this in the morning? I really am tired.”
He studies me for a long moment, and I think he’s going to refuse me. But then he moves, nabs my suitcase and carry-on, and starts to walk down a wide hall. Figuring he’s taking me to my room, I follow.
five
Olympia
It shouldn’t have been a good night sleep, but it was.
It might have taken me a hellishly long time to actually fall into sleep, what with thinking of Remira raging at my absence, and what that absence means for her living situation. Even worse, though, was the thought of Darius. The engagement party had been big and ridiculously grand. It was being hosted on one of the more luxurious Taviera Cruise Ships, and it had been packed with North Carolina’s upper class. They’d all been eagerly awaiting the spectacle that was to be the celebration of my engagement to Darius Taviera, and Darius had been ready to stand as the center of attention for the week the ship was to sail. So, the fact that the bride-to-be never showed—well, I just know the man is pissed. More than pissed.
If I know Darius, and after the last few months of him whispering all the terrifying, painful things he planned to do to me once I was officially his, I do know Darius—so I know he’s seething in the worst way.
So, the falling asleep part had been hard, but once asleep, the night had been a dream.
Now, as I slip a loose sweater over my sleep tank to face the devil I know is in the kitchen, because I can hear him banging around like he’s trying to wake me, I crack the bedroom door and walk out, feeling anything but at ease.
The house is bursting with a warm orange glow from the rising sun, and it takes everything I have in me not to cover my chest with my arms in a defensive fold. Keeping them at my sides in a practiced stance of indifference as I move into the open living space is the fakest thing I’ve done since coming here. But the smile I flash in response to the deep glower Cole shoots me, tops it by a mile.
“Morning,” I chirp cheerily, my finger pointing to the pot of coffee behind him. “Coffee?”
I’m going to be happy if it kills me, dammit.
He makes a noise that can be described only as a grunt. I take it as an offer to ‘come get it’, which I do. My heart is no longer calm in my chest as I round the island to stand next to him. “Cups?”
He doesn’t reply, forcing me to start opening cabinets until I find them. Thankfully, I spot them on the second cabinet, which just happens to be the one he’s standing in front of. When he makes no move to shift away, I rise onto my tiptoes and stretch my hand into the cupboard, reaching for the second shelf as I curse my lack of height. The brush of my breasts against the bare skin of his arm is entirely unintentional and has fire shooting through my core as I hook my finger through the loop of a mug, dropping down to the flat of my feet with fire in my cheeks.
I’m really regretting not donning a bra as I reach for the coffee pot, too aware of the sudden heaviness in my too big breasts—and even more, the way my hardened nipples brush against the fabric of my clothes.
I might be innocent, but I’m smart enough to know the man is trying to throw me off.
He might be able to affect my body, but I’m determined to show him that I’m unaffected by being, well, affected.
Gosh, I’m a mess.
With my coffee poured, sugar and cream mixed, my mission to show him I’m unmoved clear in my mind, I push back my shoulders, so my aroused breasts are even more on display to the man, as I take my first sip of yummy morning nectar.
Like I hoped, his eyes drop to my breasts, his mouth tightening into a scowl.
It’s not the only thing that tightens. My core feels as though it’s in stitches.
I lean back against the island opposite him, crossing a lazy ankle over the other and watch as his eyes drop to my mostly bare legs. My deep blue silk pyjama shorts leave very little to the imagination.
My eyes tell him to shove it as I take another sip of my coffee. Then I push him with a, “Well, I slept like a baby. That bed is great.”
He makes another noise that has me stifling a laugh. Honestly, these next fourteen months might be fun if this big bear of a man continues being so darned easy to poke.
