would prefer to see her. At least, she had imagined that men preferred such things. She had no experience with them, and suddenly she regretted it. She hadn’t. Never. Until now. Now, she was married to Kairos. She was his princess. She was his wife. And she had no idea how to please him.
They had two weeks to adjust to the idea of marrying each other, and during that two weeks he hadn’t touched her. He had waited, because he’d said there was no point in doing anything differently. Not when it was so close. Not when he had the chance to do right by her.
She had told him, of course, that she was a virgin. In case he found the idea appalling in some way. In case he disliked the idea of being with a woman who had no practical experience. He had not been appalled. But it was then he’d insisted they wait.
So here she was, a bride dressed in white, and all that it symbolized, married to a man she didn’t love. A man who did not love her, about to find out what all the fuss was about.
She might not love Kairos, but she was attracted to him. In her mind, this was ideal in many ways. She didn’t love him. But she respected him. She cared for him. She was attracted to him. They had everything pleasant going for them, and nothing outrageous or unpleasant. Nothing that would turn them into the kinds of screaming monsters her parents had become under the influence of love and passion.
And so she waited. Waited for him to close the distance between them. But he was in no hurry. Finally, he crossed the room, a dark silhouette. She could see him working his tie, removing his jacket, his shirt. She could see nothing of his body, but she could tell that he was naked by the time he reached her. It was then that he kissed her. Cool, slow. Different to how she had imagined.
His skin was hot, but his movements were chilled and deliberate. He divested her of her gown quickly, making no ceremony of it. His touch was skilled, easily calling out a response in her as he teased her between her thighs, stroked his thumb over her nipples. But it was happening quickly, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Didn’t understand her part in it. And he gave her no hints. He had her on her back quickly, testing her readiness with his fingers. Sliding one inside her first, then another, stretching her. He did this for a while, as though he were counting the time. As though he had read a textbook on how to make a woman’s first time hurt as little as possible.
Then he settled between her thighs and pushed into her quickly. She gritted her teeth against the pain, biting her lip to keep from digging her fingernails into his skin. She didn’t have an orgasm.
He did. Of course he did.
He withdrew quickly after that, moving into the bathroom and starting a bath for her. Then he returned, ushering her in, waiting until she was submerged in the water before meeting her gaze. “I imagine you want some time alone.”
No. She absolutely did not want time alone. She wanted him to hold her because she was pretty sure she was going to break apart. He had changed something deep inside of her. And he hadn’t finished. She was shattered, but she wasn’t remade.
“Yes,” she heard herself saying, not sure where the response had come from.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
* * *
She snapped back to the present, to this moment. To this kiss that bore no resemblance to anything that had occurred on that night. He had accused her of changing, but he wasn’t the same either.
He kissed her neck, down to her collarbone, retracing that same path with the tip of his tongue. She found herself tearing at his shirt, her heart thundering hard, every fiber of her being desperate to have him. Desperate to have him inside her again. Like that night in his office. That night when the promise that had been broken on their wedding night was finally fulfilled.
I feel nothing.
His words from that night reached between them, hit her with the impact of a slap.
She pushed away from him, breathing hard. “Don’t.”
“You want to,” he said, his words cutting and far too true.
“So? We don’t have to do everything we want.” She, of all people, truly shouldn’t. “Anyway, I know from experience that sex with you produces a host of regrets.”
“Do you regret being pregnant?”
“How can you not regret it? You’re going to find a new wife.” She disentangled herself from his hold, moving away from him, over to the window, turning her focus out to the view. Out to the sea below. “Having your heir belong to the wrong woman must be an upsetting prospect.”
“Not especially. Because I do not intend to divorce you.”
“Why?”
“You are having my child. There is no reason for me to marry another. None at all.”
“So, you’re suggesting we simply...ignore our marriage?”
“If you prefer. I should like to reach some kind of agreement with you, but you have been very unreasonable lately.”
“And you have been a cold fish for the last five years.”
She found herself being tugged back up against him, his lips crashing down on hers. He gripped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, his dark eyes blazing into hers. “Did that feel cold to you?” he ground out after they separated.
“You contrary man. Why do you only want something once it’s been taken from you?”
He drew back as though she had slapped him. “I...”
“You can’t deny it. And you don’t have an answer.”
His expression went blank. “If you regret the pregnancy, perhaps you should simply turn custody of the child over to me.”
Everything inside of her screamed at the thought. “You misunderstand me,” she bit out. “I don’t regret having a child. I regret having your child. It would have been better for me to wait to get pregnant until I could find a man that I actually wanted to spend my life with.”
He took a step back, his eyes filled with rage. His face, normally so controlled, normally schooled into such a careful, neutral expression, telegraphed every bit of his anger. “Such a pity then that it is my child you carry. Dinner is served in an hour. If you do not join me you can starve.”
“Are you going to lock the kitchen?”
“I may yet. Do not test me, Tabitha, for you will not like the result.” He turned, walking out of the room, slamming the door hard behind him.
He had commanded that she not test him. And so that was exactly what she intended to do.
KAIROS COULD NOT fathom his own behavior. But then, he could not understand Tabitha’s either. He had given her more credit than this. Had chosen her to be his wife because she was smart, faithful, levelheaded. Because she had served him as his assistant for years and never given him reason to distrust her. During his engagement to Francesca he had thought he might forge something of an emotional connection
