by Kate Hewitt
‘Absolutely not,’ Anna returned firmly. ‘This is for the two of you. You need to get to know each other,’ she added meaningfully, and Milly briefly closed her eyes. Alex would eventually twig to Anna’s obvious attempts at creating romance, and then what would she say? He would no doubt be coldly scornful of such attempts, and Milly didn’t think she could bear his contempt.
Yes, Anna was being young and sentimental, but she was a teenager and she’d had so little love in her life. Milly couldn’t bear not to go along with it, even if the thought of Alex’s reaction made her stomach cramp.
Anna ran to fetch Alex, and he strolled out onto the terrace with a bland look on his face, taking the table for two in his stride, although he didn’t look particularly pleased about it. Anna had, of course, disappeared.
‘I’m sorry about my sister,’ Milly began awkwardly when they were both seated. ‘She means well, really...’
‘At least she’s pleased,’ he replied shortly.
‘Yes...’
‘She reminds me of my sister, how she used to be,’ Alex said, then looked away, clearly wishing he hadn’t shared so much.
‘Your sister?’ Milly searched his face, startled by this admission, just about the last thing she’d expected in this moment. ‘I thought you only had your stepbrother, Ezio.’
Alex’s mouth compressed. ‘I do. Daphne died some time ago.’ He began to dish out some salad on both of their plates, clearly unwilling to say anything more on that painful subject.
‘I’m sorry,’ Milly said quietly. ‘That must have been very hard.’
‘It was.’ The two words were clipped, a hint of a warning in them. Don’t push it, Milly, she told herself. At least Alex had offered something personal, even if he hadn’t quite meant to. The door had cracked open just a little, and every so often she would push it a little further open. With time and patience, she might get to know him.
And is that all you want from your husband?
Milly chose not to pay attention to that mocking little voice. She wouldn’t even know how to begin to answer that question.
* * *
Alex gazed out at the tranquil sea, the sun blazing down, and then turned back to the woman seated across from him. His wife. Milly had changed from her lovely wedding dress to a simple sundress in pale green, the skinny straps showing off her shoulders. She did have freckles there. Alex found his gaze skimming to them again and again, the dusting of gold urging him to press his lips to each one. Something, of course, he had no intention of actually doing. No doubt Milly would be horrified if he did.
It had been well-meaning of Anna to dress up their day a bit, although Alex could tell Milly was uncomfortable with it, something that irritated him even though he knew the reaction was unreasonable. Hell, he was uncomfortable, too. It was just a meal, but it wasn’t what they’d agreed to. Nothing about this day felt the way he’d expected it to.
He’d viewed the ceremony as nothing more than a hurdle to get over, a hoop to jump through, and yet the words the priest had spoken had oddly moved him, as had the ancient rituals he and Milly had participated in—crowned with laurel, their eyes meeting over the common cup as they drank... He’d known marriage was binding, but he’d seen it as nothing more than a legal contract.
The ceremony in the tiny church had made him realise it was something sacred, and the thought humbled him. Scared him a little, too. What if he couldn’t protect Milly? What if he hurt her?
‘Alex?’ Her voice, as well as the light touch of her fingers on his, startled him out of his dark thoughts. ‘You suddenly started frowning rather ferociously.’ Her lips trembled as she tried to smile. ‘Is...is everything all right?’
‘It’s fine.’ Alex forced a quick, tight smile to his lips, feeling his scar pull across his cheek, reminding him yet again of the limitations of their life together. The limitations Milly wanted as well as him. ‘My mind was elsewhere. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ Her forehead was crinkled in concern, her gaze scanning his face. He looked away, angling his face so his scars were less visible. Even now, especially now, he didn’t want her to see him like this.
‘Well, I’m glad Anna isn’t scaring you off,’ Milly said with a light laugh. ‘She’s so excited about everything...and I think she’s read too many romance novels.’
‘She thinks our marriage is romantic?’ Alex turned back to her, arching an eyebrow. ‘Have you told her the truth?’
‘Well...’ He watched with dispassionate curiosity as Milly’s face coloured. ‘Sort of. She’s...’ She swallowed, and his gaze was drawn to the sinuous movement of her throat. ‘She’s hoping we fall desperately in love.’
He schooled his face into a bland expression even as her words blazed inside him, igniting what...? Hope? Horror? It was, of course, an impossibility. ‘I hope you disabused her of that notion,’ he remarked coolly.
‘Of course I did.’ The words came with such vehemence that Alex had to look away. He was an idiot to think for a moment that Milly might have been thinking or wanting something else—something he had no desire for, in any case.
‘Right. That’s settled, then.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ Milly stared down at her plate, and Alex watched her, wondering what was going on in her head. Was she relieved? Or was she already regretting their impetuous marriage, realising the price she’d paid was too high? Tonight loomed in front of them, heavy with expectation.
He knew he shouldn’t care about her feelings, and she certainly didn’t care about his. And yet the ceremony circled in his head—the words of the priest, the common cup, their hands joined in a lover’s knot of fingers. It had meant something, at least to him. Far more than he’d ever intended it to.
‘All right, you two!’ Anna called out gaily as she came out on the terrace, brandishing a platter that held what looked alarmingly like a traditional wedding cake.
‘Anna...’ Milly half rose from her chair, her flush starting all over again, her eyes wide with dismay. ‘Where did you get that...?’
‘Halki is amazingly well supplied,’ Anna answered blithely. ‘And Yiannis helped me. It’s been such fun.’ She placed the platter with the cake on the table between them with a flourish. ‘It’s traditional wedding cake, with honey, sesame seed, and quince.’ She made a face and Milly managed a little laugh although she still looked uneasy. ‘I’d rather have chocolate.’
‘How on earth did you get a wedding cake on such short notice?’ Milly said. She slid Alex an apologetic glance, which he ignored. A cake wasn’t going to make a difference to anything.
‘The bakery had one in the window,’ Yiannis supplied. ‘It seemed ordained.’
Ordained. Fated. Words of romance rather than business. Yiannis was as much of a sentimental fool as Anna, both of them wanting to turn today into a fairy tale. It wasn’t going to happen. The only fairy tale in which Alex had a role was Beauty and the Beast, and with him it wouldn’t have a happy ending.
Still, for the sake of form, he managed a small, tight smile. ‘You are both too kind,’ he said, and he gave Yiannis a repressive look over the top of Anna’s head. Enough. His driver gave a short nod.
‘Cut the cake,’ Anna instructed. ‘Both of you at the same time. For good luck.’
‘Is that a thing?’ Milly said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, and Anna just shrugged, innocence personified.
‘Fine.’ Alex rose, reaching for the knife Anna had brought along with the cake. He glanced at Milly, and then motioned to the knife. Hesitantly she took it, and then he wrapped his hand around hers, just as he had when they’d walked into church.
Together they cut into the cake, the knife sinking through the soft icing and sponge underneath, her hand slight and warm under his. As soon as they’d finished, Anna and Yiannis both clapped, and Milly yanked her hand away, and Alex stepped back.
�
�I have work to do,’ he announced, watching Anna’s eyes round with dismay. His wife, he noticed, looked relieved. Without another word he strode from the terrace. Milly had a short reprieve, he acknowledged grimly; they still had their wedding night to get through.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NIGHT HAD FALLEN. Milly stared out at the darkening sky, her belly a flutter of nerves. After Alex had retreated to his study Anna had insisted Milly have an at-home spa day, running her a bubble bath and doing her nails.
Considering she’d just had a host of treatments two days ago in Athens, Milly had hardly seen the need, but she hadn’t wanted to disappoint Anna. She loved being with her, and, in any case, she’d needed a distraction as the wedding night had loomed closer.
As the sun had begun to set, Anna had announced that she was staying the night with Yiannis and his wife in the village, making Milly protest.
‘Anna, you don’t...’
‘It’s your wedding night, Milly. The last thing you need is a little sister in your space.’ Anna had made a face. ‘And truthfully, I kind of don’t want to be here, you know?’
‘It’s not...’ Milly had decided not to finish that sentence, mostly because she hadn’t known how, and Anna had patted her shoulder.
‘I’ll be fine. I’ve been having so much fun these last two days, Milly, you have no idea.’ Tears had filled her eyes and she’d blinked them away as she’d offered her a heartbreaking smile. ‘Honestly, I feel like I have a life suddenly, instead of hiding away, just waiting for things to happen.’
‘I’m glad you’re here, Anna.’ Milly had pulled her sister into a tight hug. ‘Really glad.’
Anna had hugged her back before easing away with a bright smile. ‘But I’m not going to be here tonight. So have fun.’
Fun didn’t seem the right word, Milly thought as she paced the living room alone, dressed in a simple navy shift dress, yet another one of her outfits from those brought to her at the hotel.
She felt as if she were crackling with nervous energy, about to combust. Where was Alex? She hadn’t seen him in hours, and yet she had no idea what she would say when she did see him. What she would do. And more importantly, more alarmingly and, yes, excitingly, what he would do.
Her mind blanked every time she started to think about it, even as her nerve-endings became hyper-aware and her heart began to thud, and that molten-honey feeling trickled through her, igniting aches she’d never felt before.
‘Good evening, Milly.’
She whirled around to see Alex standing in the doorway, dressed in a white button-down shirt open at the throat and dark trousers. His hair was spiky and damp from a recent shower, his lean jaw freshly shaven. As always he angled his face so she couldn’t see his scarred side, but, regardless, he was devastatingly handsome, and she felt herself go weak at the knees, swaying a little at the sight of him.
‘H-hello.’ Her voice came out breathy with nerves and inside her black flats her toes curled. Scars or no, he was so beautiful, and she was so plain. Did he desire her at all? She could tell nothing from his carefully bland expression. ‘Anna has gone with Yiannis and his wife for the night,’ she blurted, willing herself not to flush. ‘To give us some privacy.’
‘So Yiannis told me. That was very considerate of them.’
‘Have you known Yiannis long?’
‘Since I was a child.’
‘You have roots here,’ Milly observed. ‘Yiannis, the villagers...’
‘Yes.’ He glanced away. ‘We came here, as a family, when I was young. Holidays every summer, some of the happiest memories I possess.’
‘And the villa...?’
‘I’ve had it for ten years. Now come.’ He spoke flatly as he held out one hand and Milly stared at him, trying not to tremble. This step felt as momentous as the one she’d taken before, into the church. There would be no going back.
His eyebrow lifted as he remained with his hand outstretched. ‘Are you scared?’ he asked, a hint of gentleness in his voice.
‘A little,’ she confessed.
His mouth tightened and he nodded. ‘I will do my best to make this as quick and painless as possible.’
Which made it sound as if she was about to endure some awful medical procedure, and she hardly wanted that. Everything inside Milly shook.
‘That’s kind of you,’ she said, because she was overcome with nerves and she didn’t know what to say. She could hardly ask him to make love to her, could she? To kiss and touch her like the hazy images that kept flitting through her head and making her dizzy with desire?
Just the thought of admitting how she felt, opening herself up to such vulnerability, made her tremble in a whole other way. She couldn’t do that. Now, more than ever, was a time to protect herself.
Alex’s mouth twisted, tightening his scar. ‘It’s the least I can do, Milly. I’m sorry...’ He paused, then shook his head. ‘Never mind. This is the way it is.’ He reached for her hand, his fingers sliding over hers and then tightening imperceptibly, drawing her to him. Milly’s heart thudded in her chest.
They hadn’t even kissed. They’d barely touched. And yet very soon they would be committing the most intimate act a man and woman could together, an act that would unite them for ever. She was terrified, and yet within that fear was a lick of excitement, an ember of need waiting only to be fanned into flame, if Alex would just show her some modicum of tenderness, of desire...
She knew she was attracted to Alex on a basic, physical level. Her body responded to his; even the expensive, woodsy scent of him enflamed her senses, stoking that ember. Yet Alex seemed completely unaffected by her as he led her away from the living room, up the stairs, towards his bedroom, striding along like a man intent on getting the job done.
But why should he desire her? In her head she heard Philippe’s mocking voice. ‘How could I want someone like you?’ And she tried to drown it out. She didn’t want to think about Philippe now of all moments.
Alex opened the door to his bedroom and then sucked in a surprised breath. ‘What...?’
Milly peered inside, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the creamy candles flickering on various surfaces, a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket by the bed.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she mumbled, heat flooding her face as she thought of how this would look to Alex. ‘This is Anna’s work. Obviously.’
‘Obviously?’ he queried sardonically, and her blush intensified.
‘I wouldn’t do something like this.’ Heaven forbid he think she was trying to make the mood romantic.
‘Of course you wouldn’t.’ She couldn’t gauge his tone as he strode into the room and began to snuff out the candles with the tips of his fingers, causing a sizzling sound with each one.
‘Can’t...can’t you leave at least one?’
‘I prefer the dark.’
‘Please...just one. I don’t want to trip over my own feet.’
He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the last candle. The air was full of the scent of acrid smoke. ‘Fine,’ he said shortly, and turned away. The room was lost in shadow now, the single candle barely piercing the darkness, the shutters closed against the starlit sky.
Milly stared at him through the gloom, her heart still thumping. ‘What now?’
‘What now indeed?’ He let out a hard little laugh. ‘Why don’t we have a glass of champagne?’ Alex reached for the bottle and popped the cork with quick efficiency; there was, Milly thought, nothing remotely celebratory about the sound. He poured a flute full and thrust it to her. ‘This will help.’
‘Help?’ She took the flute and sipped at the crisp bubbles. ‘You make it sound like medicine.’
‘An anaesthetic, perhaps,’ he drawled before draining his own glass.
‘For what? Some procedure?’ Her voice trembled. ‘Is that how you see this?’ She gestured to the
empty bed, neatly made up and heaped with pillows.
‘Don’t you?’ Alex challenged, his eyes piercing through the darkness.
‘I... I don’t know,’ she admitted. She felt bound by her own fear. She wasn’t brave enough to admit she wanted more, that she felt something for him, not when he was seeming so forbidding. ‘Surely it’s meant to be somewhat pleasurable.’ She let out an uncertain laugh. ‘You know more than I would, Alex.’
‘It’s been a long time since I’ve had that kind of pleasurable experience,’ he told her sardonically, then he sighed. ‘I’m only trying to make this easier for you, Milly.’ He nodded towards her glass. ‘Drink up.’
She did, gulping the champagne far too fast so her head started spinning even more. She’d never had much tolerance for alcohol, and she felt it now, her stomach seething both from the champagne and nerves. She watched, her eyes widening, as Alex began to unbutton his shirt.
‘What...what are you doing?’ she practically yelped.
‘Undressing. The marital act requires a certain amount of disrobing.’ His mouth twisted in something like a smile. ‘Are you shocked?’
‘Surprised,’ she corrected, her gaze drawn to the sculpted muscles of his chest as he undid the buttons of his shirt with the same brisk efficiency with which he’d opened the champagne. He was beautifully proportioned, the candlelight burnishing his impressive physique in gold.
‘Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible, shall we?’ he remarked. ‘The sooner you become pregnant, the better it will be for both of us.’
She stared at him in dismay, her mind swirling from both his words and the champagne she’d just guzzled on an empty stomach. His hands went to his belt buckle and Milly couldn’t keep from making a little sound of—something. She didn’t even know what she felt. Her body responded to his, but her mind and heart were both in active rebellion. This had to be the most unromantic wedding night she could have ever conceived of...and yet that was why she was here, wasn’t it? To conceive.