themselves free from her plaited hair. He felt the painful twist of lust deep inside him as he glared at her. ‘Maybe that’s because you make me feel like a sixteen-year-old boy again—with all the corresponding doubts and insecurities.’
‘Doubts and insecurities?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t think so. You were born knowing how to handle a woman.’
‘Except perhaps for you,’ he said. ‘You were my one failure in a long and glittering career.’
Exasperated, she shook her head. ‘You see? Even when you’re making what might almost pass for an apology, you’re turning it into some kind of macho boast!’
‘I am what I am, Lex.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I am Greek and to be macho is woven into my DNA. I thought that’s what you liked. Don’t you remember telling me that my mastery turned you on?’
Lexi bit her lip. Yes, she’d said that, and more. Much more. Things which now made her wince. But at the time she had meant them. After years of having to cope and be strong for other people, she had fallen for a man who was just as strong. Someone who was looking out for her for a change. For once it had been blissful to let someone else take charge. To let someone else make all the decisions. She just hadn’t realised that she needed to keep her own strength and that it was wrong to rely on Xenon’s. That once you gave someone else permission to take control of your life, you ended up weak and helpless. So that she seemed to have no reserves left to cope with the misfortune which had befallen them.
‘I was younger then,’ she said. ‘And naïve.’
‘And now?’
She reminded herself that she was a grown-up and not some simpering girl. She was a woman who had found her own way in the world. Just because an incompatible marriage had thrown her temporarily off course, that didn’t mean she needed to hurl herself straight back into it. And hadn’t she made a deal with him? Wasn’t she doing this for Jason? For the baby brother who’d had such an unspeakable childhood?
She fiddled with her plait, and shrugged. ‘Now I’m just doing the best I can.’
Xenon felt a sudden wave of remorse wash over him because in that moment she seemed as fragile as he’d ever seen her. ‘You look tired,’ he said.
‘I am.’ The sudden compassion in his voice disarmed her. She saw the anxiety in his face and some stupid moment of weakness made her want to reach out to him. ‘There’s no need to look so stricken, Xenon. I was just as complicit as you in what just happened. And I’m not denying that I enjoyed it—I don’t think I’d get away with a lie that big.’
His blue eyes burned with intensity. ‘So share my bed tonight.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t. You know I can’t. It would cause too many problems and open up too many wounds. And we can’t risk that kind of pain again, for both our sakes.’
His narrowed gaze was thoughtful. ‘Then you’d better go upstairs and get some rest,’ he said. ‘And I’ll see you later at dinner.’
She straightened her dress and looked up. ‘We’re having dinner?’
‘Of course we are. We have to eat. Now go,’ he repeated roughly, forcing himself to turn away from her. Because her body was sending out a siren song so loud that it was almost deafening him. And he couldn’t trust himself not to pull her back in his arms and finish off what they had started.
‘LEX.’
‘Mmm?’
‘Wake up.’
Lexi stirred and stretched. She didn’t want to wake up. She had been in the middle of a dream—the kind you never wanted to end. A beachy type of dream with warm sand and the sound of the waves swishing against the shore. And there had been a man beside her. A man holding her tightly and kissing her and melting away all the cold sadness which was locked away inside her.
Her eyes fluttered open to find Xenon bending over her, and as his silhouette imprinted itself fuzzily in her line of vision she felt a sinking feeling of resignation. Because he was the man. Of course he was. Even her dreams were dominated by him.
Still a little groggy, she sat up and groped for her glasses and the room shifted into sharp focus as she put them on. She was in the rose room—a sumptuous suite of soft petal shades, with tall windows which overlooked the park. She had never actually slept here before, but it was still filled with memories she’d rather forget. Because she’d made love with her husband on this canopied bed. He’d straddled her over there, on that velvet chair. They’d done it on the carpet, too. In fact, they’d made love in pretty much every room in the house.
And they’d very nearly done it again.
She remembered that brief, erotic encounter on the sofa earlier and she felt the pounding of her heart; the heated rush of blood to her face as she recalled the intimate touch of his hands on her after so long without it. She shouldn’t have let it get that far and she shouldn’t have shown him how much she still wanted him. But how could she fail to want him when he was so damned gorgeous? When, even now, all she could think about was all the pleasure he had given her in the past and the way she used to choke out his name with disbelieving joy. She needed to remember the pain instead. To protect herself with the memory of how much he had hurt her.
She pushed her mussed hair back from her face and sat up, trying not to focus on the powerful thrust of his thighs, which were distractingly close. ‘What time is it?’
‘Seven o’clock. You’ve been asleep for a while.’ He studied her rumpled appearance. ‘Do you want to get changed for dinner?’
Of course she did, even though the fact that he had been the one to suggest it made her want to rebel. He’d grown up in the kind of world where even families changed for dinner and ate formally. The first time she’d met his mother she’d mistakenly thought that, because they were all on a relaxed Greek island, it might be okay for her to wear a denim skirt and a T-shirt to dinner. Big mistake. Her mother-in-law had been decked in silk and pearls, her disapproval freezing the warm Greek air as she had studied the laid-back appearance of her new daughter-in-law.
Lexi glared at him, realising that she was going to be subjected to that level of disapproval all over again. His mother had been frosty enough towards her when they’d been newly-weds. What was her attitude likely to be towards a wife who had left her precious son? ‘I’d like to know what the plan is,’ she said. ‘When are we going to Rhodes?’
‘Eager to get there, are you, Lex?’ His blue eyes mocked her.
‘Not really. But the sooner it’s done, then the sooner I can erase this whole ghastly incident from my mind.’ She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wondering if her words carried the lack of conviction she felt inside. Walking over to the dressing table, she picked up a hairbrush. ‘I can’t believe I’m back in this damned house,’ she muttered as she stared at her pinched reflection in the mirror.
‘Can’t you?’ Xenon watched as she began to pull a brush through the tumble of her hair and suddenly he realised he had missed this indefinable intimacy of married life. Watching his wife get dressed—an experience almost as erotic as seeing the whole process later
