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Did you really think he wouldn’t know what a liar you are?
She could feel the flush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. She’d suspected he knew that she’d lied to him about her virginity, but since he hadn’t called her on it, she’d told herself that maybe her suspicions were wrong.
Sadly they were not wrong.
She wanted to deny it, tell him she wasn’t lying, but, with that black gaze holding hers, she knew that would only be making the hole she was digging for herself even deeper.
‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘I was a virgin. But I’m not lying about wanting you. We had sex and it was great, but I don’t necessarily need to revisit it.’
He said nothing for a long moment, still studying her. Then he took a few casual steps in her direction and every muscle in her body tightened in response, her heartbeat thumping hard in her head.
‘Don’t you?’ His voice was just as casual as the slow way he approached her. ‘Are you sure you couldn’t be tempted to revisit it?’
He wasn’t being threatening. His hands were in the pockets of his trousers, his posture relaxed, and yet... She could feel the intense sexual energy he was radiating and it made her go hot with reaction. There was a pulse of heat between her thighs, a dragging ache. She couldn’t seem to get a breath.
‘N-no,’ she said, hating the way she stuttered and how breathy her voice sounded. ‘I mean... I’m... I’m sure.’
His black gaze settled on hers, full of intent and a dark hunger that she knew he was letting her see on purpose. It made the ache inside her get worse. ‘There’s no purpose in lying, Elena,’ he murmured. ‘Because I can see what I do to you. I know what I do to you. I was there, remember? I heard the way you called my name as you climaxed. Twice, wasn’t it?’
She knew she should look away, turn and walk from the room, get out of his vicinity somehow, but she couldn’t seem to move. She was caught in his gaze like a deer in the headlights of a car, utterly frozen. And not just caught by her own need, but by the need she saw in his face too. Need for her.
‘I’m not the only one,’ she said huskily. ‘I do the same to you.’
‘That’s true.’ He moved again, coming even closer, until he was mere inches away. And she could smell him once again, salt and sun and masculine spice, so delicious. He wore a deep blue silk tie with his black shirt, the colour highlighting the tanned olive skin of his strong neck, and suddenly all she could think about was undoing that tie and taking it off, pulling at the top buttons of his shirt and uncovering his skin. Tasting the hollow of his throat the way he’d tasted hers.
‘In which case...’ He reached out, putting one long finger beneath her chin, tipping her head back, and she didn’t pull away, trapped by the force of her hunger and by the sheer charisma of his presence. ‘Why not give us what we both want? Marrying me wouldn’t be all bad, Elenitsa. You’d get the island, the company, and, while I have no plans to live here, I could certainly spend some time consummating our marriage.’
Her heartbeat got louder and louder. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his. The heat from his finger beneath her chin felt as if it were burning into her, the warmth of his body and the scent of him making every part of her go weak with hunger.
Would it really be so bad? No, it’s not love, but then you don’t love him. You don’t need him to stay here on Kalifos, either. And you’d be fulfilling Aristeidis’s last wish, which is to make sure you’re provided for.
It was true, she would. Aristeidis had wanted to give her a family and it seemed petty of her to deny him that just because Atticus unsettled her and because she was holding out for love. Especially after Aristeidis been denied a reconciliation with his son. Also, she hadn’t been there when he’d died; she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. Surely she couldn’t refuse to fulfil at least one of his dying wishes. Besides, they didn’t even need to be together for ever, since the will stipulated they had to stay married for only five years. She could find the love she wanted with someone else after that.
‘I... I don’t know.’ Her voice had become so husky, giving her away. ‘Do you even want to consummate our marriage?’
His hard mouth curved and abruptly she could see the desire that burned hot and strong in his gaze. ‘I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to. For the record, there isn’t one person on this planet who can force me into doing what I don’t want to do.’
Something about that half-smile made her breath catch. He’d been nothing but focused and very intense since the day she’d met him, and she wouldn’t have thought he’d even known what a smile was, but it seemed that he did. And it was mesmerising. She couldn’t stop looking at it.
‘Yes,’ she heard herself say. ‘I think I already know that about you.’
His thumb moved, tracing her bottom lip, pushing gently against the softness, making her heart beat even faster. ‘Good. Then you’ll know that there isn’t anything I’d like better than to give you a suitable wedding night.’
She swallowed, her bottom lip feeling acutely sensitised. ‘Atticus...’
He gripped her chin and bent his head, his mouth brushing over hers, and her brain blanked, the electricity of the kiss making even the air around her crackle and spark.
His fingers tightened and he kissed her again, as if he couldn’t help himself, his mouth lingering, coaxing her to open. And she did, unable to stop herself, letting him deepen the kiss.
He tasted so good and she was tired of grief, tired of looking into the future and seeing nothing but loneliness, nothing but having no one and nowhere to call home, no connections with anyone or anything. She wanted this, the heat of his mouth and the glory of his touch. The need she saw in his eyes. And she could stay on Kalifos, which was home to her, and where she had a purpose.
So why not marry him? Why not have this? She could have him. He would be her husband for a few years and he’d give her children. She’d have a family in the end. It was what she’d always wanted and what Aristeidis had wanted for her too, so why not?
Elena opened her mouth, let the kiss get hotter. Let him tip her head back further, explore her deeper. She kissed him back, the rich taste of him filling her head, dark chocolate and mint. It felt like balm to her wounded soul, and she found her hands lifting, reaching for him.
Abruptly, though, he released her, lifting his head and looking down into her eyes. ‘Is that a yes?’ His voice was rough, and she could hear the edge of demand in it.
She swallowed, her fingers itching to touch him, her whole body aching with desire. Part of her didn’t want to give in so easily, though, still half angry with him over so many years of silence, a silence that she hadn’t thought she’d care about and yet apparently still did. Angry, too, that he had the power to unsettle her, to make her feel vulnerable when she didn’t want to be.
