by Penny Jordan
Because I haven’t agreed to marry you, she almost said, but she suspected it didn’t matter. He’d do it regardless. “You’re a soft touch when it comes to kids, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what that means, but having Nic disappear on us was a trauma I don’t want to drop on my own son.”
Oh, right. She swallowed, watching him run a fingertip along his eyebrow. She wondered if he was looking for another argument to persuade her to marry him.
“Theo.” She sat heavily in the middle of the sofa.
His head came up, expression patient.
Her heart grew achy and she had to look at her fingernails. “I don’t want to string you along wondering what you have to do to convince me to marry you. I’m not hesitating because I’m afraid of going to bed with you.”
She bit her lips, keeping her head down while stealing a quick peek upward, noting that she had his attention, one thousand percent. He was virility personified, all his masculine features sharpened, his wide shoulders tense and defined beneath his crisp white shirt.
“Actually, I am a little nervous about that. I’ve had a baby since the last time and it’s not like I’ve had a lot of practice...” She swallowed.
“We’ll be amazing, Jaya. Just like last time.” His voice reverberated deep in his chest.
If she hadn’t been sitting, she would have fallen, he made her so weak. She grasped for the words she needed to say. “I’m not afraid you’d be violent or disrespectful, either. I know I could trust you about most things.”
“But not all things.” Tone cracked with a jag of disbelief, he recoiled in hurt.
She swallowed, knowing this would be difficult.
“You didn’t call me back,” she said in a small voice. “I know you said you wouldn’t, but...” She tried to shrug off how foolish she felt, how bare this fantasy of hers left her. “I thought I was different. I thought you liked me.”
His face transformed in slow degrees, falling from intense focus on her to inward comprehension, into lost hope and finally, self-hatred.
“I don’t expect you to love me,” she rushed to say, even though it tore open something inside her. “But I always wanted to marry for love.” Such a girlish dream, so romantic and silly. That’s the message she’d always received, but she still wanted it. “I need something between us that’s not just practicality and hormones. Those things aren’t a real bond. They’re not something you fight for. But if you had any feelings for me at all...”
He did his thing where he froze. Not shrinking. He didn’t cringe, but he braced himself. Like he refused to show how vulnerable he felt, while at the same time expected great pain. “I don’t understand why you’d want me to.”
Careful, she urged herself. He wasn’t being arrogant or callous. He probably, genuinely didn’t understand. She heard the barest inflection on me in his statement and knew this was more about his low opinion of himself than lack of regard for her.
Licking her lips, choosing her words with care, she said, “Everyone wants to be liked. Don’t you?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter to me either way.” Because he’d been reviled by someone who was supposed to love him. The abraded edges of her heart frayed and stung.
“What about your sister? Surely it matters to you that she loves you?”
His shoulder jerked, almost like he was deflecting a blow. “I’m sure she values my loyalty. I take satisfaction in knowing she can count on me.”
He only took what pride he gave himself, would never ask for a smidgen more even from a woman he’d take a bullet to protect. How utterly abandoned he must have felt to mold himself into someone so inaccessible.
“Well, I want to be liked,” Jaya said with one hand cupped in the palm of the other, trying to project calm control when emotion tore at her throat. “I’d like whatever attraction you feel toward me to be for more than whatever parts of me fit into lingerie. Because I think you’re a very good-looking man, but when I say I’m attracted to you, I mean that I like you, Theo.” Love, a voice inside her contradicted, but it was such a huge admission to be in love that she pressed it back into her subconscious, not quite ready to be that vulnerable.
Still, as she lifted her gaze, she was absolutely defenseless, like he must be able to read that her feelings were so much stronger than she was admitting, but she didn’t want to scare him, only let him see she was sincere.
“Jesus, Jaya,” he whispered in a ragged breath, looking away.
His image swam before her brimming eyes, but she thought she’d seen a flinch of great anguish, like her words had touched a very raw part of him. He rubbed his hand across his jaw.
“For God’s sake, why?” he expelled with disbelief.
Oh, you poor, poor man. She rose and went to him, unable to sit so far from him when he was hurting so much. Cupping his head, she forced his tortured expression to face hers.
“Why do I like you? You’re a good man, Theo. When I told you about my assault, you didn’t ask what I was wearing or whether I did something to encourage it. You never once lost patience with those babies even though they kept us up half the night. You protected your little brother when you were barely old enough to—”
“Shh, don’t.” He pulled her into his chest, crushing her so tight she could barely draw breath. His heart pounded against her breast and she felt his swallow where his damp throat was pressed to her temple. His breaths moved harshly in his nostrils as he tried to regain control, holding her against the rise and fall of his shaken breaths.
She let herself soften into him, hoping her signal of acceptance would penetrate.
His own arms loosened a fraction and she wound her arms around his chest. Their embrace became mutual. Tight and close, man and woman. He cupped the back of her head and rubbed his chin on her hair.
“People hate to see me coming,” he said after a long time. “I criticize how they’re doing things, ask for paperwork they can’t find, make them account for items they think are insignificant. You always smiled at me, no matter what I asked for. I was never an imposition to you. That’s so rare for me.”
He combed his fingers through her hair while she closed her eyes against a sharp sting, feeling dampness gather on her lashes and keeping them hidden in his shirt, certain he’d stop holding her if he knew how moved she was.
“Do I like you?” he continued. “I don’t have friends. I don’t know how that works. I wish I could say I loved you, that I could give you everything you want from a man. Knowing you want love tells me I don’t deserve you.”
She hitched in a breath of protest, but he was continuing, arms tightening a fraction to keep her in place.
“But I’m not selfless enough to give you up. I want you in my life. Not just because my mouth waters when I think of you naked. Hell, you can feel how I’m reacting now, but there are a lot of beautiful women out there. There’s only one you. You are special, Jaya.”
She hugged him hard, biting her lips because they were quivering. “Thank you for saying that.”
“But it’s not enough, is it?” He slid heavy hands to her shoulders and eased her back a step. “You do deserve better.”
Here was the crossroads again. She couldn’t know if marrying him was the right choice unless she made it and looked back on having lived with it, but she couldn’t hurt him by rejecting him. All she could do was remember how perfect they had been once and believe that, with time, they could surpass it.
Without breathing, courage gathered into a tight knot in her middle, she picked up his hand to cradle it against her cheek. “You’re going to have to trust me when I say that I would be honored and privileged to be your wife,” she quavered.
He searched her gaze, a small frown pulling his brows. “Are you saying—”
She nodded, unable to help smiling when
he was so plainly taken by surprise. “I would like to marry you, Theo.”
The flash of male triumph that streaked into his fierce visage might have frightened her if there wasn’t a helping of relief beneath it, endearingly softening his ruthless expression. In the next instant, he shuttered himself so thoroughly, she wondered if she had seen any reaction at all.
“Thank you. We’ll get a ring in the morning.”
And the CFO was back, armed with his tasks. Nevertheless, she’d seen behind the curtain and knew there was something there, even if it wasn’t very clearly defined.
“I don’t need a ring,” she dismissed, and reluctantly let her hands drop. She didn’t know how to bring herself out from intense emotional intimacy to distance with the swiftness that he did. A chill made her cross her arms and self-protect.
“I want to do this properly,” he insisted, then grimaced. “I suppose that means we should wait until our wedding night. How long does it take to plan a wedding?”
“Wait for what? Oh.” She ducked her head to hide that she was blushing, partly because she was dense enough not to have got his meaning right away, but also because she was disappointed. “We don’t have to,” she murmured.
“I want you to be sure.” He pushed his hands into his pockets, but she could see he was still aroused. He was trying not to touch her, she realized, and glittering delight bounced through her at her effect on him.
“I am sure.” She lifted her face so he could see she wasn’t teasing, but she didn’t know how to flirt or invite. Arousal was still too new.
“Sure about all of it,” he clarified with a rueful look. “Given our track record, I’d knock you up by midnight. As you said, this is your first proposal. I won’t trap you.”
A small smile touch her lips at the prospect of him forcing a shotgun wedding, but another thought occurred and it was a big one. “Do you want more children?”
His expression blanked in surprise. “I haven’t given it any thought. Hell, last week I didn’t want any. Today...I don’t know. Being a single child sounds lonely for Zephyr, doesn’t it? I mean, Demitri is a complete pain in the ass, but I can’t imagine not having him around.”
“It’s open for discussion, then?” she confirmed. This was a deal-breaker for her.
“Yes,” he said firmly. “But let’s give ourselves a chance to get to know one another again first.” His gaze feathered over her cheek and lit on her mouth.
He knew how to say things that both flattered and intrigued. Despite his sweetly suggestive remark, however, a very somber mood came over him.
Her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
“Not one thing.” He cupped her face and kissed her with startling tenderness. “You’re very lovely, Jaya. How long until I can call you my wife?”
“I don’t know.” Her heart turned over and already she wondered if she’d done the right thing. “A few months?”
He grimaced.
“Unless you want a small wedding,” she rushed to say. “That could be arranged in a week or two.”
“I want to do this right.” His hands fell to her shoulders and he looked over her head, his expression weighted by heavy thoughts. His hands massaged, but distractedly. Like he’d slipped miles away from her. “You’ll want your family to come.”
“My parents, yes, but it doesn’t have to be a big deal. I’ve never dreamed of being the center of a society wedding. I can’t imagine you have, either.” She nudged his stomach playfully.
“More like suffered nightmares.” His mouth twisted with aversion. “But we have business associates in New York and relatives in Greece who should be invited.”
“Big weddings are expensive.”
“Do not worry about the cost.” He stepped away to state decisively, “We should be able to make a strong statement in six weeks.”
“A statement?” she repeated.
“As opposed to a splash.”
“Okay.” She tried to read his inscrutable expression.
“You should get some sleep. I’ll listen for Zephyr,” he said.
“You’re staying up to work?” The way he shut her out was not the way she thought an engagement should start.
“I need to think. I’m used to having more time with my own thoughts than I’ve had in the last few days.”
“Oh. Of course.” She tried not to take that as a slight. She hadn’t initiated this chain of events. If only he’d kiss her again, so the fragile bond between them would grow another layer, rather than fade. But he didn’t.
“Good night,” she said, confidence dwindling as she went to her room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AS SOMEONE WHOSE life had changed overnight before, Jaya had learned to prefer a gradual, thoughtful approach to making shifts in her world. After her abrupt departure from India, she’d had months of notice before her move to Bali. Once settled, she’d dug in, comfortable in her role there. France had been a culture shock, but she’d had family to cushion the blow.
Nothing could have prepared her, probably not even time, for being pulled into the Makricostas’ world. First she’d had to quit her job, which had been a tough decision even though Adara emailed with three job offers “to consider when the time is right.” Then there was the travel, flitting up to London for two nights because Theo had a meeting and a thing.
“What kind of thing?” she’d asked when he’d requested she accompany him.
“A presentation. We paid to refurbish a historical building. One of the royals will be there so I’ve been elected to represent.”
One of the royals. Like this was normal.
Which meant an upgrade to her wardrobe. No longer did she own a few nice outfits. Every time she turned around, Theo was bringing in a designer or a stylist or squiring her into a shop where the prêt-à-porters didn’t even have price tags.
“I thought women enjoyed shopping,” he said at one point.
“But the cost! I’m not even working.”
He quirked a brow at her. “Do you have any idea how much money I make? How well I invest it? I never spend any.”
Except on his fleet of airplanes and helicopters. He did some flitting of his own in those, disappearing to South America and Japan for a couple of days without her. She couldn’t complain. She put off her separation from Bina as long as she could and needed the time to pack up her life, plan a wedding and look for a suitable home in New York.
The city was incredible. They spent a week there and she looked forward to living there permanently. However, the bit where Theo ensconced her in the family suite at the Makricosta Grand and visited his apartment without her bothered her immensely. It was too small for them, even in the interim, she agreed. She also understood he was a private man who liked his own space. Plus, as he pointed out oh-so-reasonably, here at the hotel she had help on tap—boy, did she have help. She used to be the one who jumped when a Makricosta rang. It was bizarre to be on the receiving end of that level of service from people a lot further up the corporate food chain than she’d ever been.
Then, just when her insecurities began to get the best of her and she convinced herself he’d be the most hands-off, distant husband, that this whole thing was a terrible mistake, he reassured her. After practically ignoring her all day in front of the real estate agent, he drew her into his arms as they closed the door of the hotel suite and kissed her breathless, saying when they came up for air, “I’ve been wanting to do that all day. You look amazing.” She happened to be wearing one of her own modest navy skirts with a canary lace top over a lemon-colored cami. Nothing flashy or fantastic.
Then, when they’d decided on a penthouse apartment a few blocks from Adara and Gideon’s, with a view of the park and a rooftop patio and pool, she’d watched him close the deal with an emotionless handshake. When the agent left them alone, an
ominous silence descended, worrying her.
She rocked Zephyr on her hip. “Are you sure? You don’t look pleased.”
“You said you loved it.” He snapped his head around.
“I do! You’re the one who went into lockdown when I said I thought this was the one and could we have one more look.”
He didn’t like it when she called him on his standoffishness. She was learning his tells and noted the tick in his brow and the muscle that clenched in his jaw. But being blunt was the only way to get him to open up enough for her to understand him and not feel closed out.
“I didn’t mean to.” He kept one hand fisted in his pocket, his mouth tense and outlined in white.
The look he flashed at her was both impatient with himself and...not distrustful, but like he wasn’t sure of her. With a cross noise, he shrugged. He kept a proud bearing, but it was like he was headed to the gallows, he was so stiff and withdrawn as he pulled his hand from his pocket.
“You know I’m the furthest thing from a romantic,” he said gruffly. “But I thought if we decided this would be home, it would be a good time to give you this, as a sort of... Hell, I don’t know.” He showed her the sparkle he held. “An official start?”
She gasped. “You picked up the ring?” They’d chosen the stones two weeks ago, but she hadn’t expected to see the finished setting until right before the wedding.
“I figured if you said yes to the apartment, you were probably going through with the wedding so...”
He was nervous!
Too awed to laugh, she rushed forward to kiss him. Zephyr got in the way, of course, little fists grabbing at Theo and catching a chest hair so he winced and pulled away long enough to take him. Then he pulled her back into him like a pirate grabbing a wench, angling her over his arm as he kissed her like he really meant it. Like he wanted to devour her because he desired her so much.
Jaya straightened her ring on her finger now, the memory of their kiss embedded into the piece as irrevocably as the oval cut sapphire. The goldsmith had created a setting that looked as if he’d cut a blond band open then twisted it, setting the rare purple stone between the scrolled ends. He’d finished the tails with ever shrinking pink diamonds. The result a piece with such femininity, it made the extravagance subtle and elegant.