His presumptions tonight disgusted him. What had he been thinking? He’d dared Thea to wear that dress. To show everyone the woman he saw each day. Show her magnificence. Show she was a force of nature, alive and powerful in a flash of arterial red.
She’d cut every man off at the knees when she’d walked into the room. His baser parts had brimmed with pride at having her by his side as she’d threaded her arm through his. Yet he’d brought the enemy into his home. Drawn her father and brother to her and hadn’t been there to stop them.
It haunted him. Her standing there, surrounded. Demetri clasping her arm in that brutal grip. Volcanic heat clawed his gut. He flexed his fingers. How dared anyone lay their hands on her? After all she’d confessed, the least she was due was his protection and he couldn’t even give her that properly.
He unbuttoned his shirt. Shrugged it off. Poured a cognac. He’d let another burn, that of the amber liquid, scorch away the guilt.
The celebrations had been a success. He’d done his duty by Atlas. Raul could assess the rest. Demetri and Tito’s arrogance had overcome their good sense. It showed they could be caught out if watched closely enough.
He gulped from the glass, downing the contents in one mouthful. He’d try to sleep—a futile activity since Thea had entered his house. He’d wake to visions of smooth skin and breathless sighs as he immersed himself in a soft, warm body. The dreams were fevered, formless things, but he knew who he was with. Who shared with him the pleasure they unleashed. Thea. Always Thea.
He had no right to her. But the feel of her supple body in his arms tonight, her head on his chest as she melted into him...
Even as he’d been soothing her he’d been craving her. The only one he desired. Of all the women who’d sought him out over the years, he coveted the one who didn’t want him. The relentless hunger of it ached inside him.
You’re married to her.
No! He had to shut out that voice, whispering the impossible. Her trust had been betrayed by too many. He still had some honour left. A thin shred, which frayed a little more every time she came near, but he’d protect it. Try to stitch it up with more resolve than he’d ever shown in the past when he’d seen something he wanted to reach out and take.
She’d leave this marriage untouched. This constant ache was his penance for every selfish deed of his past. He would be better. For her.
A tentative knock sounded at the door. It opened a crack and the soft music of her voice filled the space. ‘I want to thank you.’
His heart plummeted as Thea drifted into the room, still dressed in the glittering gown he’d chosen. The soft lace accentuated her hypnotic curves. His goddess. A dream that couldn’t be. Thea had loaned him her life just for a short while. She wasn’t his to keep.
Yet seductive whispers of Kiss her... filled his head. He shut them down.
‘You’ve nothing to thank me for.’ The words were ground out like broken glass, cutting with each utterance. He did want her thanks. He wanted it all.
‘You stood up for me.’
Her eyes gleamed bright in the soft lamplight. His desire to comfort her overwhelmed him. To wrap her up tight and stroke away her pain. All dangerous ideas designed to get her into his arms again.
‘It was no more than anyone would have done,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘You know that’s not true.’
He noticed the marks on her skin from Demetri’s rough fingers. She’d bruise. Cold, dark certainty chilled through his veins. He’d break the man who had done that to her.
He took a step forward. Stopped. ‘Your arm—’
She shrugged it off. ‘I’ve had worse.’
Her acceptance crushed him. The things she’d endured... ‘You’re safe now. Your father and brother will never hurt you again.’
She looked up at him with warm amber eyes. The fire from them beat any drink in a glass.
‘I know.’
She’d invaded his senses. He wanted to immerse himself in her scent of sweet spice. Touch her... Touch those red marks on her arm.
He reached out and stroked them. Her skin was smooth silk under his fingertips. Her pupils dilated and she blinked, long and slow. Her lashes feathered her cheek. A lick of heat curled deep inside him and clenched tight.
‘I trust you, Christo.’
Her voice brushed feather-soft against his skin. Take her... He’d sweep her into his arms. Ravish her plush scarlet lips. Replace pain with gasping pleasure.
Christo glimpsed her reflection in the mirror behind them. That sinuous flock of birds soared across her spine. He would never forget that one of those birds had been tattooed there for him. He was required to atone for it.
‘You shouldn’t,’ he said, though still every part of him yearned to protect her. For ever.
He removed his hand from the warmth of her and clenched his fists by his sides. Relegated himself to a life of cold. ‘I do what advantages me and no one else.’
Was she cold too? Goose bumps bloomed on her arms. Her lips parted. Her eyes were alight, blazing and fierce. The silence stretched the space between them till every part of him screamed to fill it. Her thoughts were so loud he could almost hear them.
I see through you.
To the child he’d once been. Unloved. Unlovable.
She cocked her head. ‘Who’s the liar now?’
Aching hunger gripped his gut. He couldn’t give her what she deserved. Love. It wasn’t an emotion he felt and she needed someone to cherish her. She contained too much life and passion to be kept by a man like him.
Yet how he longed to release it all. To scorch himself clean. He abhorred any man who’d seen her before. He wanted to be her past, present and
