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He stared at the empty doorway, his heart still pounding, dazed with lust.
Seducing her was going to require more effort than he’d thought.
Theo took a deep breath, gripping his hands against the desk. He wanted her. Badly.
And he would have her. They had their whole honeymoon ahead of them. Seducing his wife was now his one and only goal.
Theo intended to be utterly ruthless.
CHAPTER SIX
FLINGINGOPENTHEblue shutters, Emmie stuck her head out the window and took an invigorating breath of sea-salt air.
Beyond the whitewashed walls of the tiny Greek hotel, which was really just a few guest rooms above a taverna, she could see the sapphire Aegean sparkling in the morning sun.
Past the fishing boats in the bay, she saw a yacht on the horizon. Was it Theo’s, coming to collect them? She hoped not.
This sleepy village was off the beaten path, far from Mykonos or Santorini. Lyra was just a small rocky isle with limited ferry service and no nightclubs or mega resorts, with more grazing sheep than tourists. The island had just one village, also named Lyra, with a few scattered two-story hotels, quiet beach coves, and tavernas overlooking the harbor, where fishermen with stubbly beards and low-slung caps brought in that day’s catch with nets on their rusted boats.
And it was all so wonderful, so beautiful and glorious, that it made Emmie’s heart hurt with joy.
She turned away from the window, back to their small room. The innkeeper’s wife had grandly called it the honeymoon suite, but maybe that was because space was so tight in here, honeymooners were the only ones who’d want it. Seeing her husband sleeping in the small bed, her heart twisted as tightly as the sheets tangled at his feet.
They’d slept together last night.
Justslept.
She’d barely managed to push him away in New York. Refusing him, when she wanted him just as badly, was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But she couldn’t give in, not without falling for him all over again. And he was not just out of her league: she knew that giving her body to a man who had no capacity for love would only end with her heart bleeding on the floor.
When the driver had taken them to the airport outside New York City and they’d boarded his jet, she’d waited a little breathlessly for his reaction. Would he punish her with the silent treatment? Give up his vow of fidelity and start texting some more accommodating woman? Or, worst fear of all, would he try to seduce her on the spacious white leather sofa of the jet’s cabin, when she had nowhere to flee?
If so, she honestly didn’t know how long she could hold out, not against him, not against her own treacherous, desperate desire.
Instead, Theo had done something she’d never expected. He’d neither punished her nor pressed his sensual advantage.
He’d acted like a friend.
Theo had been solicitous of Emmie’s comfort, asking the flight attendant for food and drinks that he thought might tempt her. When he’d suggested that they change out of their wedding clothes intosomething more comfortable, she’d braced herself—until he’d come out of the back room of the jet’s cabin wearing a faded rock-concert T-shirt and slim-fitting sweatpants. He actually wanted her to becomfortable.
So a little nervously, she’d changed out of her wedding dress and high heels into comfy leggings and an oversize hoodie emblazoned with the name of her community college. They’d washed down hors d’oeuvres and a charcuterie platter with sparkling water and soda and watched a mutually agreed-upon movie. Nervous of rom-coms, she’d argued in favor of a female-led comedy, and he’d let her talk him into it. It was only later that she realized his negotiation had been only pretense. He’d let her choose.
Midway through the movie, sated and sleepy, she’d fallen asleep. She’d woken over the Atlantic to find Theo sleeping beside her on the white leather sofa, his arm protectively over her shoulders, his cheek resting on the top of her head.
They’d arrived at Lyra yesterday, coming by speedboat from the nearest airstrip at Paros, a few islands over. She’d closed her eyes, feeling the sun on her face and wind through her hair, then heard her husband’s apologetic voice beside her.
“The yacht is stuck in Athens till tomorrow, I’m afraid. We’ll have to manage at the local hotel tonight.”
He’d looked so regretful, as if he really feared he was disappointing her, that Emmie expected to find Lyra an abandoned ghost village and the local hotel a dilapidated shepherd’s hovel.
Instead, she’d discovered a charming Greek village clinging to the edge of the sea, full of kind, friendly people. Waking ten minutes ago, she’d felt refreshed, reborn, after a night of deep, delicious sleep as her husband had held her in his arms.
Held her. Just held her.
Maybe this marriage was going to work after all.
As long as their partnership was based only on comfort, support and friendship—
But as she looked back at the tiny double bed in the small room, her eyes forgot they werefriends...only friends...just friendsand unwillingly caressed the length of his powerful tanned body half-hidden beneath the tangle of sheets. The muscles of his chest stood out starkly, the morning sunlight gleaming over his thick biceps and thighs, hardened from his gym habit.
