landed her in trouble with men before. She’d been inspired by her parents’ relationship. They had met on a blind date, had a whirlwind romance and had been inseparable until the day they’d died. Older and wiser now, Iliana knew not to project what she wanted onto a man. She had to have her eyes open to who he was and accept him, flaws and all. Who was the man in front of her? A violent dictator—ruthless, blunt and drop-dead sexy.
Demetrius’s home was another surprise. It was a large, rambling three-story house, not as ornate as she had expected. It looked well maintained but in need of softening. He had no flowers in the garden, no curtains in the windows, nothing to add contrast to the gray stone exterior.
The sedan circled to the back of the house. To her right was what might have been a beautiful, lush garden many years earlier. Some plants were overgrown; other patches of the garden were bare. A large stone wall surrounding the space was beginning to crumble. Didn’t that bother Demetrius? He was detail oriented and precise. Wasn’t he concerned about the state of his home? As president of Icarus, his residence should reflect his power and wealth.
They parked behind the house, and Demetrius opened the car door and climbed out. He took her hand and helped her out of the black sedan. Heat surged between them. Now that they were out of the public eye, could she step closer, rub against him, make it clear she was interested in moving their relationship forward, at least the physical aspects of it?
She lost her nerve. He placed her hand on his arm and led her into the house.
Much like the exterior, the inside was plain. Little furniture, white walls, clean, but it didn’t look occupied. “You live here?” she asked.
“Yes.”
This was his primary home? “It looks bare.” No knickknacks, no artwork and nothing on the table or sofa.
“I haven’t had time to decorate. I’d like my wife to do that.”
It wasn’t the first time he had commented about tasks he wanted a wife to perform. She was certain he didn’t mean to offend her, although it struck her as presumptive to assume a woman would have time or interest in remodeling a home. “What if your wife doesn’t want to decorate your house?”
He shrugged. “Then, she can hire someone to do it the way she likes. Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t view my wife as my servant or believe that her role is to please me. My intention in allowing her to decorate is for her to find our home comfortable and pleasing.”
It was all she could do to keep from swooning. Though she and Demetrius had trouble communicating, sometimes his words blew her away. Her parents had put her first in their lives, but since they had died, no one made her the top priority. No one went out of his or her way to please her.
“Show me your favorite room in the house,” Iliana said.
Demetrius’s lips twitched. She half expected him to deny her request. “Follow me.”
She followed Demetrius up two flights of stairs to the top floor. At the end of the hallway, he opened the double doors. This had to be his bedroom. His favorite room was his personal sanctuary, and she was inside it. A surge of happiness swept over her and she was genuinely pleased he had brought her here.
Unlike the plainness of the rest of the house, this room was beautiful. It was him. Dark wood furniture, blue bedding and geometric-patterned curtains worked together and made the room flow. It was charming and distinctly Demetrius.
She sat on the bed and gave it a few test bounces. “Harder than I like.”
“I’ll have it replaced,” he said.
He was nothing if not confident. “I don’t plan to sleep here,” she said.
“I don’t plan for you to sleep there, either, but I do intend to have you in my bed,” he said.
His words made her hot and excited. Her insides clutched with yearning. “Come here. Please.”
He strode to her and knelt on the floor in front of her. He took both her hands in his and kissed her palms. To have a powerful man like Demetrius acquiesce to her made her, in turn, feel powerful.
He watched her with such absolute focus that she felt like the only person in the world who mattered to him in that moment. Maybe she was. “I’ve fantasized about having you in my bedroom and about what I would do to you when I finally got you here.”
They had flirted, they’d had long conversations, but they hadn’t allowed their relationship to cross over into a physical one. Their attraction was the one part of their relationship that had been consistent. Consistent and persistently drawing her to him. She had daydreamed about him, about this moment, and now she couldn’t think about anything except him. “Then, do it to me. Show me.” He would be confident and talented in bed. She knew it.
His eyes blazed sex. Taking the relationship from zero to sixty was rash, but Iliana didn’t know how long this would last. She had kept his attention, and he had pursued her. They were alone together in his room. Why fight it? Iliana knew the difference between sex and intimacy, and while she preferred the latter, in this blistering moment, she wanted the former with Demetrius.
“When I’ve thought of you at night, when I’m alone, I’ve imagined you touching me and I know you will be very, very good,” she said.
He grinned. “You know right, but I will show you.”
She expected him to pounce on her, but instead he stood and drew her to her feet. He walked her to the large window overlooking the gardens.
He stood behind her and moved her hair to the side. He pressed his lips to her neck and ran his hands down her sides. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. He had been restrained every other time they were alone, and it made her want him that much more.
When he reached her waist, he unsnapped her pants. She had a moment of panic. What underwear was she wearing? She couldn’t recall what she had slipped on that morning. She hadn’t been anticipating taking a lover that day.
“Relax. What are you worried about?” he asked.
“I think I’m wearing green underwear.”
Demetrius laughed and plucked the back of her pants. “Yes. It seems you are.”
She felt a flush over her cheeks. Normally sleeping with a man for the first time required careful preparation—manicure, a facial and some primping. No special arrangements had been made today. But she had the feeling with Demetrius, this could be now or never. He had said the word marriage to her, but Iliana couldn’t process that on any real level. Achy, needy desire swelled inside her. She couldn’t slow the build of lust and wanting in her body. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“There is nothing you could do now to disappoint me. Except maybe leave.” He slid her pants down her legs and let them fall to the floor around her feet. She stepped out of them. He tugged her shirt over her head.
Demetrius spun her around. He growled as he swept his eyes down her body. “You are glorious and perfectly feminine.” He touched the side of her face gently, tracing his thumb down her cheek.
Then he moved quickly and deliberately, bringing her against his body and kissing her. His lips seared her to the core. She moved against him, feeling his hardness through his
