strolled over to the extensive drinks cabinet.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.
About to refuse, I stopped. It would buy me time to ease my nerves. ‘Mineral water, thanks.’
He poured my drink, then a single malt whisky into a crystal glass, handing mine to me before taking his time to savour his first sip.
The feeling that he was waiting, biding his time for…something threatened to overwhelm me, even while my senses skittered with alien excitement. Slowly it grew hotter, more dangerous.
His gaze raked over my wedding dress for a charged few seconds. ‘Now we do whatever you want. It’s your wedding night after all,’ he drawled.
I got the feeling he was testing me. For what, I didn’t know. And I wasn’t sure I was ready to find out.
‘The modern art pieces all over the house. Did you pick them yourself?’
His eyes widened fractionally, as if I’d surprised him. ‘Yes,’ he bit out. Then, on a softer note, ‘Good art rarely loses its value.’
A layer of my nerves eased as I nodded. ‘And pieces from emerging talent only appreciate with time.’
He strolled to the massive fireplace in the living room and leaned one muscular shoulder against the mantel. ‘Masterpieces from the greats are all well and good, but modern art has its place too. They should be appreciated side by side.’
Just as he had placed them all over the house. I took a sip of water, settling deeper into my seat. ‘I agree. Does that theme echo in all your properties?’
‘Yes, it does.’
Before I could express pleasure in the thought, the gleam in his eyes arrested me.
‘Is this how you wish to spend your wedding night, Calypso? Discussing art?’
The nerves rushed back and my hand trembled. ‘What if it is?’
‘Then I suggest you might want to be in more comfortable attire than that gown?’
Again, his eyes raked me, sending heat spiralling through me.
‘Is this a ploy that usually works for you?’
One corner of his mouth lifted before his eyes darkened. ‘Like you, I’ve never been married, so we both find ourselves in strange waters. Either way, the dress is going to have to come off one way or the other.’
‘And if you don’t like what is underneath…?’ I dared. ‘Will you send me back?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Is that what you’re hoping for?’
Was it? I could have sworn my answer would be yes until actually faced with the question. But the word stuck in my throat, refusing to emerge as he sauntered towards me, taking a moment to discard the crystal tumbler so both his hands were free to capture my shoulders when he stopped in front of me.
‘What I’m hoping for is that you will stop dishing out those enigmatic smiles and tell me what you meant earlier,’ I said.
He frowned. ‘You’ve lost me,’ he drawled.
‘When you said if we were to consummate this marriage? Are you incapable of doing so? If so perhaps you should get one of your staff to show me where I’m to sleep.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think you just issued me a challenge,’ he drawled, in a voice that ruffled the tight nerves beneath my skin.
His scent filled my nostrils, his calm breathing propelling my attention to his sculpted chest, to the pulse beating steadily at his throat. To the magnificent vitality of his skin and the sheer animalistic aura breaching my tightly controlled space. Screaming at me to notice his masculinity. And not just to notice. He drew me with a power I’d never known before. I didn’t just want to breathe him in. I wanted to touch. Explore. Taste.
That sensation was so strong I stepped back, eager to diffuse it.
The hands that held me stemmed my movement, and hard on the heels of my immobility came the realisation that I wanted to stay right where I was. But I didn’t want him to know that.
‘Well? Are you?’ I taunted.
A mysterious smile tilted one corner of his lips before his hands slid down to my elbows. ‘It should be easy enough to prove, matia mou.’
Just like that I was hit with the reality that this was my wedding night. That I was all but taunting him into…possessing me.
The thought sent a shiver through me. Coupled with something else. Something way too close to the forbidden desire that had coursed through me when I’d allowed myself to dream of this day some time in the dim and distant future, when I was out from under my father’s thumb and free to have a boyfriend. A lover. A husband.
But how could that be? The man I’d imagined bore no resemblance to this formidable man, who wore arrogance and power as if it were a second skin. Theos, even his frown was attention-absorbing.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked.
I shook my head. Like everything else in this stunning villa, the temperature was perfect, blending with the early summer breeze.
‘Then what’s wrong?’ he rasped, his eyes turning speculative again, as they had when I almost gave myself away on the dance floor.
The pain had thankfully receded, but other questions loomed just as large. The subject of my virginity and how that would factor into things, for one.
I pushed it away, seizing on another pressing need. ‘I want you to tell me exactly what your agreement with my father is.’
One eyebrow rose. ‘Isn’t that a case of shutting the barn door after the horse has bolted? What’s the point of rehashing the subject?’
It was time to come clean. ‘I… I may have let you operate under the assumption that I know what’s going on.’
Surprise flickered through his eyes before they narrowed. ‘Are you saying you don’t?’
‘Not the exact details, no.’
Scepticism flared. ‘You expect me to believe that? When you walked willingly by his side up the aisle?’
‘Tell me you’ve never done something against your will and I’ll call you a liar,’ I replied.
The flare of his nostrils confirmed what I suspected—that this marriage was as much without his approval as it was without mine.
‘Assuming it was solely your father who pushed for this, what steps did you take to stop him?’
None. Because my protests, like everything else, had fallen on deaf ears. I didn’t say the words out loud, his timely reminder that, despite the promise I’d made, my mother’s fate was in my father’s hands, stilling my tongue. My hesitation gave Axios the answer he needed.
