‘If you’re not cruel, we can divorce.’
Her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears. The room folded in, its walls seeming too close. Her vision faded around the edges as her pulse sped to an inhuman speed.
Not here, not now.
She breathed through the moment until everything came back into focus.
‘My father hasn’t long to live. Twelve months at most. So his doctors say.’ He looked down at his hands, now clasped in front of him. ‘I don’t have time to divorce and remarry. When he dies, I’ll grant what you want.’
‘Why me?’
She wanted to know why she’d been chosen as a piece in this game. Her father hadn’t told her, other than giving her a list of information he required about Atlas Shipping.
‘You were available.’
‘And you say you’re not a cruel man? If that’s all it needed, no doubt there were any number of women who would have thrown themselves at your feet if you’d asked.’
‘I need you, Thea.’
His words were rich and silky and they wound around her like treacherous ribbons, tying her to the spot. She should get up...shout, rage. But she couldn’t. Her skin prickled uncomfortably. She unzipped her jacket as perspiration slicked the back of her neck.
Christo went on. ‘You’re clearly a businesswoman, so I don’t expect you to agree to this undertaking for free. Your funds will be increased and returned.’
Freedom. At a price.
She could leave now—assuming Christo let her, and that was in some doubt—but she had little doubt that if she walked out tonight, she’d go with nothing.
The curl of fear gripped her again. She’d witnessed her mother being turned against by family and friends because of her choice to escape Tito Lambros. The man she’d never loved. Even as a child Thea had recognised her mother’s deprivations. Maria had always looked so thin and starved...of everything.
She’d never forgotten her mother’s words of advice. Don’t do what I did. Ensure your future above all things.
And if she left, where would she go? Elena’s father and Thea’s father were friends. She’d be returned to Christo and then...
No. There was only Alexis. Surely he’d done what he’d promised? Taken his money and left Greece?
The fear that he might not have began to throttle her. Dark visions chasing her and biting at her heels.
‘You’re thinking too hard, Thea.’
Christo’s voice dripped calm patience. He was trying to seduce her into a deal with the devil. She was trapped. Exchanging one silk-lined prison for another.
‘How can I trust you?’ she asked.
He relaxed in the chair, a slight smile tilting his lips. He saw victory in his sights—she was sure of it. She wanted to keep him talking so she could think.
‘All that I ask is we stay married until I inherit Atlas Shipping in full.’ He stood and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. ‘I’ll have our negotiations committed to a formal document. A post-nuptial agreement, so to speak.’
He shrugged the crisp cotton from his shoulders, grabbed his suit jacket, her envelope and account numbers, and then turned.
‘I’ll give you a few moments to think about it.’
Thea froze. All she could do was watch as he strolled into a huge walk-in wardrobe. Transfixed by his broad, powerful shoulders. The way his back muscles flexed and moved with every step.
Somewhere in the depths of the room she heard the rush of a shower. Imagined hot water running over the ridges and hollows of Christo’s tanned skin, taut over muscle...
Thea shook herself, lifting the spell. She needed to speak to Alexis.
Grabbing her phone, she texted.
Bluebird
Their code if she needed help. The one word he’d never ignore.
She waited for a response. Something. Anything.
No answer came.
She clenched her fists. Concentrated on the bite of her nails into her palms as she slowed her breathing.
‘Have you decided?’
That deep velvet voice rolled over her, interrupting her dark thoughts. Christo wandered into the room wearing only long black silk pyjama pants, slung low around his narrow hips, where they seemed to have found an unsettling home. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his elegantly muscled torso. A sprinkling of hair on his chest arrowed down his body in a line between the ridges of his abdomen, before disappearing underneath the waistband of his pyjamas.
‘What are you doing?’
Her voice came out a little too high. She took in a breath. The intoxicating scent of warm soap and clean male skin teased her senses.
Christo raised his eyebrows. His hair clung damp to his head. A few drops of water still sparkled on his shoulders. ‘It’s been a long and exciting day. I’m preparing for bed.’
‘Put on some clothes. This...’ she flapped her hand about in his direction, averting her eyes ‘...it’s impolite.’
‘Since I usually sleep naked, I consider the way I’m dressed to be the height of good manners. What’s your decision?’
Out on the streets with nothing, there would be little she could do to help her half-brother, if that’s what he needed. Here, she had a chance. Some resources even without her money. She would put up with anything to ensure Alexis was safe. She owed him that much.
‘I agree.’
She hated the smug curl of Christo’s sensual mouth as she spoke.
‘There are other conditions,’ he said.
Thea narrowed her eyes. Of course there were. ‘And they are?’
‘This must, in every way, appear like a real marriage.’
‘How does a “real marriage” appear?’
She had no idea. Her mother had left the brutality of the marital bed when Thea was young. She had no memories of anything other than the beautiful, broken woman Maria Lambros had become.
‘We’re happy newlyweds. Being faithful to each other is one condition. I’m sure you can use your imagination for the rest. You talked about marrying for love before.’
He walked to the huge bed, threw back the covers and lay down in masculine splendour, patting the space next to him.
‘I said I wasn’t sleeping with you!’
‘I assumed you meant sex,’ he said. Thea
