His Ring Is Not Enough

by Maisey Yates

  If there was one thing she’d learned about Ajax since their marriage a couple of weeks ago, it was that he lived in his head. To look at him, you wouldn’t think it.

  Tall, broad, muscular, he looked like a man who dealt in the physical. Like the promise of sex and sweat. But he was controlled by his mind. And he liked it that way.

  And she didn’t want him calculating his way through their marriage consummation. It would give him too much control.

  One thing she did know: as strong as her feelings for him had been when she was a teenager, she hadn’t loved him. There was a certain freedom in that. The kind of freedom that made her feel that maybe she didn’t have to guard herself as closely as she’d thought.

  She’d never really known Ajax. She’d imagined who she’d thought he might be because of polite conversation they’d made. Because he’d smiled at her, accepted her gifts. But she knew better than that now. You couldn’t love a man you didn’t know.

  Of course, not loving him didn’t mean not wanting him.

  She did. She was so attracted to him her teeth ached. Among other things.

  And she didn’t want his restraint. She wanted him just as vulnerable as she was. Just as raw. Now her being a virgin put her at a massive disadvantage but she was just not going to think about all the thin sexy beauties, possibly including her sister, who had graced his bed. No, she was not.

  Anyway, he wanted her. She’d seen the look in his eyes.

  She’d picked the bikini as a challenge, and as a test, for her own benefit. Because the last thing she’d wanted was for him to get her naked and for her to see shock and horror over her shape. She looked all right, but she didn’t have that popular stick shape happening. She wasn’t a runway model. She wasn’t even a swimsuit catalog model, in spite of the boobs.

  But he’d seen, and he wanted.

  There was victory in that.

  Now she planned on taking his control while his defenses were down.

  Her evil plan to seduce the Greek billionaire was in full swing. And when she did...when she did maybe she could exorcise the feelings inside of her. Maybe it would give her some power. Or maybe it would just dull the intensity of feeling she had around him.

  Even without the feelings, she was the backup bride. The second choice. The less-beautiful, less-written-about, less-celebrated Holt heiress.

  She loved her sister. She truly did. And having to share media adoration, or rather split it 70/30 was fine. But to let Rachel have her husband’s heart? That just felt unfair. She didn’t love him. He didn’t love her. But she did not want him to love someone else. Seemed reasonable to her.

  But tonight, tonight wasn’t about crushes. Or love. Or being second best. Tonight he was going to want her. And that was just about control. And sex.

  As soon as he came back from the very urgent business he was taking care of down in the resort’s main building.

  She reached into the neckline of her dress and leaned forward, giving her breasts a quick boost. Hey, she knew her greatest assets, and she wasn’t above trying to display them to their best effect. Basic seduction technique. She was pretty sure. She’d never seduced anyone before.

  But then, she’d never been in a loveless, or any other kind of marriage, either. So all new territory.

  She looked in the mirror and let out a slow breath. Yeah, she looked...almost not like herself. Lots of eye makeup, her breasts putting on a great show over the neckline of her dress, a dress that was super skintight. She was just going to go with the bombshell look. And yeah, when she turned sideways, her stomach didn’t look totally flat, but oh well.

  She was her. And she was going to seduce the man with what she had. Because she wasn’t like the other women he probably preferred. But not even a good pair of control-top panty hose would make it so.

  And when she was naked they wouldn’t have helped anyway. No point in false advertising, not when he was going to be seeing the woman behind the curtain, so to speak.

  Anyway, the bikini had showed him what he was getting. And the look in his eyes...it was burned into her mind. It was what was giving her confidence now.

  The front door to the villa opened, and she turned. She could see him in the doorway, his silhouette clear through the curtain that partitioned off the living area.

  “You’re back,” she said.

  “Yes.” She couldn’t see his face in detail, and his voice was monotone. His expression was, in all likelihood, monotone, too, and probably wouldn’t give her any more clues than his voice. “Are you ready to go out?”

  She swept the curtain aside. “Not really.”

  “You look ready.”

  She put her hands on her hips, on the dress that was practically shrink-wrapped to her curves. “This isn’t the kind of thing I normally wear out.”

  “Why not?” He looked her over, appraising, and a rush of heat went through her body.

  “Because...well, it’s just not.”

  “Are you going to change?”

  “Are you going to play obtuse?”

  He nodded slowly. “Perhaps.”

  “Don’t.” She crossed to him, until she was standing close enough to him that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “It doesn’t suit you. You’re not the kind of man who can pull it off. You’re far too experienced.”

  “Experienced? I don’t know if that’s the word I would use,” he said, his expression like granite. “Jaded? Maybe.”

  “Either way, playing dumb isn’t your game.”

  “Perhaps not, but you do make it hard to think.”

  “Do I?”

  Ajax stood, his hands at his sides, fighting the urge to pull Leah into his arms, to strip off the chains that held him, once and for all. To say to hell with control and simply take what he wanted, what he was starving for.

  Somehow, in all of this, Leah had started to become an obsession. A desire he couldn’t shake or ignore. Somehow, the feelings he’d had for Rachel on what would have been their wedding day had been consumed by the flame of need he felt for Leah.

  Sweet Leah. Who had grown into a sharp-tongued temptress with curves that called to fantasies pushed into the darkest corners of his soul. Fantasies that had never been given the chance to play in his mind, not completely. They’d hovered around the edges of consciousness, a mist that he’d kept from creeping in. But now he was overtaken by it.

  It was easier to simply let it flood in now, block the path. Block the view of everything behind and everything ahead.

  He’d never felt like this. Had never been a slave to his desires in the way he was now. He’d experienced sexual arousal—of course he had. But the truth was, he hadn’t had sex in seventeen years. And desire, adult desire, a man to a woman, was utterly foreign to him. He’d ensured that it was.

  Because he’d always believed, since he’d been awakened to the reality of who he was, what he was capable of becoming, that he had to wait until he could be sure he would have control. That it was in the right context.

  That the woman was not simply there, allowing herself to be used in exchange for something. That the woman wanted it.

  But in this moment nothing mattered. Because there was something about Leah that made the past feel not just foggy, but nonexistent.

  He wanted to drown in that feeling. Be baptized in it. Come out clean and new.

  An illusion, he knew it, but he wanted to cling to it. Just for a while.

  She reached up and traced his cheek with her fingertip, her whiskey eyes on his. Tempting him in a way alcohol never had.

  He wanted it. Wanted to taste what he’d denied himself for so long. To let the memories of the women in his father’s mansion burn so that there was only this. Sweet, heady and clean. He wanted everything, and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t get it
fast enough.

  Seventeen years of self-denial, and on his worst night, with need, repressed and hot coursing through him, he had never felt this close to the edge. Had never felt anything this urgent. But now he was shaking, felt like he needed her more than air. He tried to look at her and see the girl she’d been, tried to look and remember why there was a time he hadn’t wanted her. Now he wasn’t certain if there had been a time.

  How could he have ever not seen this? How could he have ever not wanted?

  A whisper of something, desire, fear, washed over his skin. And a memory. A memory of a girl who always left him gifts. Who told him everything that was happening in her life. A girl who had made his heart, a heart he’d put on ice years ago, feel warm in a way no one else had.

  Not even the woman he’d thought he’d loved.

  He touched her face, softly, then traced her lower lip with his thumb. He had never touched a woman like this before. With reverence. With respect.

  The memory of past encounters left him ashamed. Women in his old world, in his father’s world, had been treated as objects. Some men had, too. But it was the women he’d had experience with. Women who had probably only said yes to him because he was the boss’s son. Because they didn’t want to find themselves thrown out of the mansion with no access to drugs. Or worse, sold off to another corner of the world with a “master” who would be less kind.

  And his last encounter with a woman...it had been so rough. Horrifying in the end. The haze of drugs clouding him badly. He’d had more that night than he’d had before.

  And why not? His father had given them to him. A birthday present. And it was so rare that his father ever paid any attention to him.

  Why not enjoy his gifts? The fruits of their labor, his father had said. The evidence of just how good their product was. It wasn’t the first time he’d sampled the drugs. He was human, a young man with endless access to excess, and he’d taken it. But not the variety or amount he’d had the night of his birthday.

  And his father had encouraged him to sample their other product. Women. Yes, he’d dabbled with the prostitutes that were around the mansion before. But never the women his father had taken into human trafficking. He’d barely seen any of those women before.

  You can break her in, boy. A virgin, I think. A gift for you. She might say no, but she doesn’t mean it. I’ve paid her well to spread her legs. She’ll give it up whether she wants to or not.

  He pulled back from Leah and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Not ever. He’d atoned for that particular sin, or he’d at least done his best to make it right. He could still remember, though. Her face. Her fear. The tears. But as soon as he’d realized...as soon as he’d gotten a moment of clarity...

  And then they’d both escaped. He’d seen her back to her family, mostly untouched. The only scars on her, the only man to try to do anything to her had been him. Her scars were created by his hand. But at least...at least he’d stopped.

  Control had won in the end. And he had to see that it always did.

  Leah was his wife. Leah had made vows. Leah wanted to be here. She hadn’t been kidnapped. She hadn’t been sold.

  Wasn’t she? For shares in her own company? For the ownership of Holt?

  No. It wasn’t the same.

  It wasn’t.

  “Tell me you want me,” he ground out, his voice rougher than intended. “Tell me.”

  Her eyes opened, her expression dazed. “I want you.”

  “With my name.” He was desperate to hear it. Consent was essential. Not consent under duress. Not consent that was heavy with the weight of duty. He required desire.

  She touched his face. “I want you, Ajax. What other man would I want?”

  “Why did you marry me?”

  “For Holt. For my business. And for you, because you worked too hard to lose it all.”

  “But you made the decision. You wanted to.”

  “No one forced me. You were there. My father was there. He would never have made me do it. No one even hinted about me marrying you. I did. It was my idea.” She put her finger on his lip, traced it as he’d done to her. “And if you’ll recall, I demanded intimacy as a part of my terms and conditions.”

  “I do. But why?”

  “Women have hormones, too, Ajax, and I don’t want to go satisfying things with someone who isn’t my husband. If this marriage is real, we honor our vows.”

  “Something we agree on.”

  “You’ll be faithful to me, too?”

  “Of course.”

  “No matter what?”

  “Who would I break my vows with?”

  She let out a shuddering breath. “All my life, Ajax, I have felt like I was just behind her. Everyone who’s compared us has found me lacking next to her. And you preferred her, too. You said you loved her.”

  He was going to say something about emotion. About how he wasn’t sure he’d ever had any. He’d directed everything he had at loving Rachel because marrying her had seemed like such a good idea. But he wasn’t sure he’d truly loved her. Once she was taken away as a goal, his feelings had gone, too.

  He was sure he hadn’t loved her. He felt nothing when he thought of her now, not a twinge in his heart, not even a tug of lust. He felt more when he thought of that girl with the tear-streaked face from seventeen years earlier than he did when he thought of the woman he’d meant to marry just a few short weeks ago.

  And he started to tell her that. But it wasn’t what came out. “You are not sharing my body with any other woman.”

  Something in her expression turned feral, fierce. “Damn right I’m not. You’re married to me.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” Why was he saying this now? It didn’t matter. If he explained, he would have to give hints about his past. But it had been so long, and this was different. A few rushed, youthful couplings that had left him feeling dirty were nothing like this. “I have not been with a woman since I was fifteen.”

  Her mouth dropped open, her lips rounded into an O. “What?”

  “So it’s closer to eighteen years, in truth.”

  “That...that’s an entire legal adult worth of time,” she said, taking a step back. “I don’t believe you. Your...your abs are like...begging to be licked, and you’re telling me that no woman in the past...all that time, has ever taken them up on that?”

  “They have offered. I’ve refused.”

  She gaped for a moment, short, half words coming out of her mouth, then cutting off partway. Then she finally spoke. “No offense, but why? You’re a man. Men like sex. Men don’t usually say no to sex.”

  “No, Leah, they often don’t. And I find the atmosphere that surrounds irresponsible sexual behavior to be something I want no part of.”

  “Not all sex is irresponsible.”

  “No. It’s not. But...I always thought that it was best in the context of a relationship. As I was never in the position to have them, I...abstained. I already told you that I wanted to wait until marriage to be with Rachel.”

  He wouldn’t tell her the whole story now. Not now. Not while she still looked at him like this.

  “And you could wait?”

  “Yes. Easily. I prize my control over everything else, Leah. If I decide to do something, I do it. If I decide not to, I don’t.”

  “You should win a control trophy or something,” she said. “But then...I guess you’ve never felt very passionately about anyone.”

  “No.” It was the truth and he realized it now. If Rachel had made him feel like this...like Leah did, if she’d made him shake...could he have held himself back?

  “Because...because if you had, well...if she’d wanted you, I don’t think you would have said no.”

  “Maybe that’s true.” A disqu
ieting thought.

  “But...but now?”

  “We’re married,” he said. “This is...right.”

  “Right,” she said, her amber eyes glistening. “Why did you tell me?”

  He frowned. “Because it is honest.”

  “You’re practically a virgin.”

  “I’m not,” he said, his voice hard. “I am no innocent.”

  The conversation made him uncomfortable. Maybe that was male pride. Maybe he wasn’t as different from other men now as he’d imagined. Not as immune to the stupid things men measured success by. He knew that there was nothing greater in following your base urges. Nothing more respectable. Any man could have all the sex he wanted. Control was the real strength, and he knew it. Yet, he still felt a measure of shame admitting his status to his wife.

  “You don’t look like one, that’s for sure,” she said, looking at him closely.

  “Do I not?”

  “You’ve seen too many things. It’s reflected in your eyes.” She reached out and traced the line of his brow before pulling away. “What have you seen, Ajax?”

  He shook his head. “Things you have not. I won’t burden you.”

  “But like you said...you weren’t born the day you showed up at my father’s estate.”

  “The man I am now is. And that man is the one who’s going to make love with you tonight. Not the one I was. Not the one I might have become.”

  “But I want to know what made you who you are.”

  “No. Leah, you cannot want that. Please, the way you’re looking at me now, the way you looked at me before, I will have that for tonight. Please.”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll take what you can give. For tonight.”

  “I do not know where to begin. I look at you...and there is so much I want.”

  A deep rose stained her cheeks, but her eyes never wavered from his. “Then we may have a problem, because I look at you and...I ache. And I really don’t know where to start. Because I’m not just practically a virgin. I am one.”

  “Now that seems impossible to me.”