But this was more pretence. Marriage formed no part of her plans. Even in her short life she’d seen enough. Knew that husbands ruled, and heaven help any woman caught by circumstance or, even worse, love. She’d never succumb to it. It was a romantic trap set for the foolhardy. That was when the bars truly fell, clanging into place for ever.
She shivered, wrapping her arms round her waist. She had her plan. What she needed was to find Alexis. To ease the constant ache of fear in her chest. To prove her agreement with Christo was good for something.
Time for the next charade.
She stood, smoothing her palms over her clothes, relieved that at least she didn’t have to deal with the teasing caress of silken lingerie sliding over her body. Or the hot gleam from Christo’s eyes which had taunted her for the past three nights.
That man pretended too. His appearance of a tightly reined-in gentleman was an act. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her as she’d lain on the couch in his room. As if she was a meal set out for his pleasure. All that dark hunger had tempted Thea to spread herself out and be devoured.
But it would never happen. He’d used her for his own ends and she’d take what she could from him, no questions.
Having her own room was a win, and in her life she’d had too few. It wasn’t as big as Christo’s, and was all soft neutrals—a blank, pale canvas like her life so far.
Thea dreaded leaving its silence and safety, but she padded down the hall with book and pencil in hand, her toes sinking into the velvety carpet. The doors to his suite were closed when she arrived. She raised her hand and knocked.
‘Come.’
His deep, low voice slid over her like a rush of warm water. Thea hesitated, then took a steadying breath and entered the room.
Christo sat on the couch in jeans and a T-shirt, the clothes soft and well worn. His shirt looked bound to the sculpted muscles of his chest and biceps. The jeans outlined his powerful thighs. Her stomach flipped with a curious disappointment. But no, she definitely didn’t miss the expanse of bronzed skin and naked torso he’d subjected her to as he’d slept on his huge bed.
Out of suit trousers and bespoke shirts he looked young. Thea supposed he was—though at thirty-one Christo was hardly Greece’s youngest billionaire. And, unlike his usual stern poise during the day when his employees were present, tonight there was something almost approachable about him, with his hair raked through and messy, a few strands falling across his brow.
The observation tugged low and warm in her belly, pooling in a way that made her shift on the spot. But it was something on which she refused to dwell. Instead, she did a prancing little twirl.
‘I wasn’t sure how to dress.’ She waved her hands between them as she looked down at her black leggings and oversized grey top. ‘For this...assignation.’
His eyes met hers, then took a meandering journey over her silhouette. Even though her body was hidden under formless clothes it was as if he could see right through them.
‘What you wear is immaterial, since the aim of newlyweds is to get out of their clothes as quickly as possible.’
All she envisaged was searching hands and naked limbs entwined. Breathless sighs and a deep, unrelenting ache.
She shut out the errant thoughts and flopped into the overstuffed armchair opposite. ‘Charming.’
The corners of his mouth tilted in a lazy smile. ‘If you pretended to be more of an adoring wife, I’d show you how charming I could be.’
She ignored the invitation. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘You could try to look happy about it.’
She tossed her head, meaning to look resolute, but the move seemed somehow childish.
‘Never.’
‘Never is a long, cold time to be alone.’ He ran his thumb over the full curve of his lower lip.
Such a decadent mouth for a man...
‘I’m used to being alone,’ she said.
Christo’s eyes tightened for a heartbeat, almost in a wince, then it was gone.
‘So am I.’
She dismissed him with a bored, practised glance and tucked her feet under her, opening the book Anna had purchased for her that afternoon. The request had earned her a bemused look, but she’d assured Anna that Christo loved doing puzzles in his spare time. When Anna had cackled out loud at this revelation, she knew she’d found a friend in the house.
Thea grinned.
One down. Six letters.
The tallest mountain in Europe.
She scribbled the answer.
‘Crosswords?’ Christo chuckled, deep and low.
The sound rolled over her, making her thighs clench.
She shrugged. ‘Your suggestion.’
He tossed down the papers he’d been studying. ‘I’m flattered you listened. So you’re planning on becoming an obedient wife? Lucky me.’
‘I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.’
‘Ah, so my luck’s running out already?’ he said, sprawling on the couch.
Thea nibbled the end of her pencil and a dark and slumberous look swept over Christo’s face. She ignored the awareness of it prickling at the base of her spine.
‘Now hope is all I have left,’ he added.
‘Whilst you’re hoping for something which won’t happen, you can help. Two across. Eight letters. “A large Patagonian rodent that lives in communal groups.”’
He stretched back, hands behind his head. His shirt shifted to expose a glorious slice of golden etched abdomen.
‘Capybara.’
She pencilled in the word, which fitted. ‘How do you know that?’
‘I’ve tasted it.’
‘What?’ she squeaked. ‘But a rodent’s a rat.’
‘More like a guinea pig. No tail.’
‘Well, having no tail obviously makes all the difference.’
‘Not my fondest culinary memory, but I was in South America on business and politeness dictated I sample it.’
Christo smiled. A wicked, glinting thing.
‘I didn’t realise I’d find crosswords so enjoyable. What’s our next clue?’
He was teasing her. It lit up his face with a mischievous sort of amusement. She tried hard not to smile herself. She shouldn’t be having fun. She shouldn’t. Reality would intrude soon
