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Rafael stuck out his arm to stop her, then leaned across to set his coffee back on the night table. “I didn’t say I don’t want to. Tell me why you’re so averse to marriage.”
“Because I don’t want to be controlled by anyone.” She looked pointedly at the arm barring her exit from the bed. “Least of all a husband.”
“I’m capable of reason. And I’ll need an heir eventually. It sounds as though you will, too.”
Her heart contracted along with her pupils, turning the room blurry at the edges. Pure adrenaline stung her veins, the kind that urged flight. She fought revealing the panic that quickened her breath and jerked her gaze free of his. She plucked at the sleeve of his robe, silently requesting he remove his arm.
He drew back and she rose to pick up the shirt he had discarded across the back of a chair. She shrugged herself into it, frantically thinking while she buttoned it.
“Having a baby purely to take control of my fortune is wrong. Let’s see how we get on,” she suggested, noticing the tremble in her hands as she rolled the cuffs up to expose her wrists. “If we’re still married in a few years, we’ll discuss children. There’s every chance we won’t be. I’m a rebellious spirit. Some would call me a hellion.”
“I noticed,” he assured her with a brief glint of amusement. “But I appreciate your candor. In fact—” he narrowed his eyes “—this would only work if we are completely honest with each other. You can’t play any of these bait and switch games with me. We need to be able to trust each other. You understand that, don’t you?” His tone was still light, but she heard the warning in it.
A shiver of premonition chased down her spine.
She trusted him. Physically. She would do some digging to be sure she could trust him with her money. With her heart, though? With her secrets? She doubted she would ever fully trust a man again.
“There’s a difference between being honest and being transparent,” she said. “I can promise to be honest with you. Faithful, definitely.” She had a bleak sense that she would never feel this same desire for any other man, so that was an easy promise to make. “But I will choose how much of myself and my past I want to share with you. By the same token, it will be your choice how much of yourself you share with me.”
“You’re starting to sound too good to be true, Alexandra.” He was still sitting on the bed and leaned back on his hands, robe gaping to expose his inner thighs. He was barely decent and so sexy, her mouth dried.
“‘Good’ is the last word people would use to describe me,” she assured him.
“I happen to know you’re very good. Come here and show me how good. Seal the deal,” he coaxed.
“I just got dressed.”
In his shirt and nothing else.
Get used to it, she thought. She was about to use him and his trappings as a shield, but she would have little protection against him.
Nevertheless, even though her heart was pounding in apprehension, her feet took her to the bed.
“You really want to do this? Marry?” She set her hands on his shoulders and her knees on the mattress, straddling his lap.
“I do.” His wide palms immediately climbed beneath the crisp cotton of the shirt, claiming her naked skin.
It’s worth it, she told herself. Whatever happens, it will be worth it for this.
Two weeks later, Rafael walked with his new bride into a Manhattan mansion.
Had he had reservations about marrying her? Probably not as many as he ought to. When they had parted after their three-day sex fest, he had promised to call her, but had thought about getting on a plane straight back to Greece. He had a lot to protect and could have made any excuse to go home and guard it.
The minute she was out of his sight, however, he wanted her back. That was the uncomfortable truth that he kept to himself as he lingered in New York.
They’d seen each other intermittently as they met with lawyers and stole a few passionate interludes. Each time, he had grown more fascinated with her. More eager to have her with him all day, every day. Every night.
There were crude expressions for this level of desire-related impulsiveness. A distant part of himself understood he was operating on pheromones and ego. She was rich and beautiful and alluring. Any man would want her, but she was clearly capable of acting in a calculated fashion to get what she wanted.
That side of her was equally fascinating to him, though. She knew how to direct her lawyers so they were very thorough in how well they protected her, ensuring she had several avenues out of this marriage that wouldn’t break her financially. This wasn’t her first rodeo, as the Americans said, which prompted him to say, “You seem to know what you’re doing in a boardroom. Why have you never put your lawyers onto your stepfather?”
“So he could spend my money fighting me? And use it to run a smear campaign against me?” She combed square nails, which were now a bubblegum pink, through her loose blond hair.
Rafael wasn’t oblivious to the sort of things men said about women, especially when they were trying to crush them in court, but she seemed to embrace the reputation of a scarlet woman, so what else could intimidate her badly enough that she would rather avoid it?
“Putting you on him will be much more effective,” she said, smoothing his lapel. “I’ve done my homework, you know. Once Humbolt realizes who he’s dealing with, he’ll start to mind his manners. Did you really steal a boat from a mafia don?”
“That is a colorful way for the press to spin my exercising a contract clause. I took possession of a ship when the repairs went unpaid.” Had he also set the man up for arrest, thereby making it impossible for him to make his payments? Perhaps. But that was between him and his very unbothered conscience.
