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He frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘Because you’ll only...distract me. Give me five minutes.’ And she closed the door in his face before he could get another word in.
She managed to get the zip down and then carefully stepped out of the gown, making sure to put it back in its protective garment bag and hang it back in her wardrobe. She half expected Atticus to ignore her and come in anyway, but he didn’t.
Finally, pulling on some soft yoga pants and a white cotton T-shirt, she went back over to the door and opened it wide, standing aside to let him enter. ‘Now you can come in.’
He went past her into the room, his gaze narrowing as he looked around, as if she’d been hiding something from him and he wanted to know what it was.
‘I don’t have a lover stashed under the bed or in the wardrobe,’ she said tartly, still feeling vulnerable and not liking it one bit. ‘If that’s what you’re worried about.’
His black gaze settled on her and once again she felt the build-up of electricity, the intense static charge of their attraction in the air around them. Surely it shouldn’t still be so intense by now? They’d slept together every night for the past week; she couldn’t still be so hungry for him, could she?
‘No.’ His voice had deepened with a very male kind of satisfaction. ‘That’s the very last thing I’d be worrying about.’
Excitement and annoyance knotted inside her. Excitement at his presence and annoyance at his arrogance, as if he was completely and utterly confident that the last thing she’d have was another lover somewhere.
He was right, though, she didn’t. In fact even the thought of being with another man left her cold, which he didn’t need to know since he was already arrogant enough as it was.
‘I might have another lover,’ she said, unable to help herself. ‘You don’t know.’
‘I do know and if you want me to prove it, I’d be happy to.’ He was already taking a step towards her, flames in his eyes, but she held up her hand, discomfited by the sudden burst of desire she felt.
She had to give him some boundaries somewhere, otherwise she’d let him have everything he wanted, and she wasn’t starting off their marriage like that. In fact, come to think of it, she really should talk to him at some point about what their marriage would look like, especially since they were supposed to stay married for five years.
She didn’t want him thinking she’d give in every time he wanted her. She wasn’t that available.
Elena was just about to open her mouth to tell him not now, when he stopped his advance towards her. ‘As much as I’d like to put your bed to good use, that can wait. I have something to give you.’ He put his hand into the pocket of his trousers and brought something out of it. A small black velvet box.
She stared, the thick weight of emotion in her chest getting even thicker, even heavier, because that was a ring box. Why would he be giving her a ring box? She’d got one of the best ring designers she could find to design their wedding rings and he knew that. So this couldn’t be a wedding ring.
‘What is it?’ she asked after a couple of moments.
Atticus merely continued to hold it out to her. ‘Open it.’
Slowly, she took the box from his hand and lifted the lid. A man’s heavy golden signet ring gleamed against the black velvet.
Aristeidis’s ring.
Elena lost her voice completely, staring at the ring then meeting his gaze.
The expression in his dark eyes was very direct. ‘Aristeidis wanted you to marry me so that you could be taken care of, and it seemed appropriate, since he isn’t here, that you have his ring as an engagement ring. Unless you’d prefer something more feminine?’
Another rush of emotion took her, so intense she couldn’t have spoken even if she’d wanted to. Helpless, pathetic tears filled her eyes, her vision swimming, and she had to blink them back fiercely, because she didn’t want to cry in front of him, not again.
‘I’ll have something else made if you don’t like it,’ Atticus went on, frowning as if he’d spotted her tears. ‘You shouldn’t have to buy your own engagement ring at least.’
It was clear he thought she didn’t like it, when in fact the opposite was true. It was Aristeidis’s ring, the one she’d hoped to have passed on to her when his will had been read, but she’d thought Atticus might want it. It was a man’s ring after all.
‘How did you know?’ Her voice was way too hoarse and the question revealed more than she wanted it to, but she couldn’t help it. ‘How did you know I wanted this?’
Atticus’s dark gaze flickered, the frown disappearing. He studied her for a long moment. ‘He meant a lot to you, I know that. He brought you up, he was a father to you. And you meant a lot to him. I think he would have wanted you to have his ring and I can’t think of a more appropriate occasion than to have it as an engagement ring.’
She was shocked that Atticus had thought about it. That he’d thought of her and Aristeidis, of what he’d meant to her and she to him, and had come up with a gesture so lovely and so meaningful that her heart ached with a bittersweet grief.
‘He wanted to give me away at my wedding,’ she said huskily, staring at the ring. ‘And I wanted him to.’
Atticus was silent a moment, then he came towards her and took the box from her shaking hand, extracting the ring. He put the box back in his pocket and then took her hand.
