by Kali Anthony
Tell that to her terrified heart.
She stopped and took a few deep breaths, catching the scent of citrus blossom drifting on the warm air, reminding her of a day when all she’d wanted to do was run. Well, she wasn’t running away now. Instead, she strode to the front door, which opened as she reached it.
Anna.
Thea pulled her into a tight hug. ‘I hope I haven’t made things difficult for you by coming?’
‘As I said when you called, you’re worth the trouble. Anyway, nothing could make things more difficult than they are now.’
Anna led her into the bright foyer and closed the door behind them.
Thea unzipped her jacket, the cool air of the house washing over her. ‘If anything happens today, you’ll always have a job with me.’
Anna waved her hand, a tightness pinching her eyes. ‘I’m not worried about my job... I’m hoping you can help Mr Callas.’
At his name, Thea felt a shock of adrenalin spike through her.
‘How is he?’
‘Unforgiving. Of himself, mostly. But there’s more. Your room...he got rid of all the furniture. Curtains. Tore up the carpet. It’s all bare. He refuses to allow us to speak of you. It’s like you were never here.’
Thea’s stomach heaved, pain knifing her deep inside. Did he really want her out of his life so badly? Maybe it had been a mistake coming here. Her hands curled into fists, the nails cutting into her palms. No. Fear wasn’t going to win. She wouldn’t run from this.
Thea flexed her fingers. ‘Take me to him.’
Anna gave a tight smile. ‘He’s shut in his office—as usual.’
They walked in silence up the stairs. Past the magnificent paintings she’d first seen all those months ago. Then, this place had pressed in on her like a prison. Now, a feeling of calm washed over her. She’d come home—if only Christo would see that too.
Anna glanced back at Thea as they stood outside his closed door. She mouthed Good luck, then turned back and knocked.
‘Come.’
That voice. Stern and uncompromising, it slid through her like fire in her blood. Her body trembled—but not from fear. From the agony of being away from this man for so long.
Anna opened the door and Thea slid past her, not giving Christo any time. He looked up at her, his eyes blank. Then confused. Then—
‘What the hell are you doing here? Anna!’
The door had already snicked shut. Anna had sensibly gone.
‘Don’t blame her. I can be very persuasive when I want.’
He unfurled from his chair. All muscle and towering height. Funny, she’d never been intimidated by that. She noticed his clothes hung slightly looser. His trousers a touch lower on his hips. He wore a business shirt, top buttons open. Lean. Hungry. Predatory.
He canted forward, palms on the desktop. ‘Answer my question.’
Oh, he’d give her nothing. She’d have to work hard for everything today.
She loosened the tie in her hair. Ruffled her hands through its long waves, flattened by her helmet. He watched, those green eyes tracing its fall over her shoulders, moving down to the split of her unzipped jacket, her heavy studded belt, to her boots and back.
When his eyes met hers again they were wild and dark. She smiled. ‘You offered me my rings. I didn’t want them then, but I do now.’
He stood back and his shoulders dropped. What was that look on his face now? Like a cloud passing over the sun? It could have been relief or disappointment. He turned towards the safe hidden in a cupboard behind his desk. She saw nothing but the broad expanse of his shoulders, narrow hips, standing stiff and severe.
‘You should have called...’ Christo’s voice scored down her spine, rough as fingernails.
‘I was told you were unlikely to speak to me.’
‘You could have left a message.’
‘It was the right time to visit.’
The safe cracked open. He withdrew a box, turned and placed it on the desk in front of him.
‘I shouldn’t be surprised. You said you liked shiny things.’
She shrugged. ‘Being a young, single millionairess, it’s all about the sparkle.’
‘You don’t need those to do that.’ He nodded to the box. ‘You’re the belle of every ball.’
A glimmer of hope lit deep inside. She raised her eyebrows. ‘Keeping an eye on me?’
‘People say things...’ Christo’s throat worked as he swallowed. He shook his head. ‘You have what you came for.’
No, she hadn’t. Not yet.
She wiggled her fingers. ‘I should put them on. Would you do the honours?’
He stared at her outstretched hand. The white line her rings had left was only recently faded.
His lips narrowed. ‘What’s this game?’
‘No game. Not afraid of a few diamonds, are you?’
Christo grabbed the box, wrenched it open and snatched out the rings. He stalked round to her. ‘They mean nothing,’ he said as he reached for her hand. ‘Not now.’
His fingers shook as he slid the rings onto hers. Once they were in place he snapped back as if he’d been burned. Oh, Christo. So strong. So hard. Denying himself what he truly wanted.
Thea held up her hand and looked at the glistening gems. They appeared to be newly cleaned.
‘That feels better. You didn’t do that before. Put the engagement ring on my finger.’
They were close now. She could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he breathed hard, the throbbing pulse at his throat.
‘There was nothing romantic about our arrangement.’
She smiled and his eyes dropped to her mouth. His lips parted, then closed. He still desired her, but out of some misplaced nobility he believed that what he’d done was right. It was time to prove how wrong he was.
‘I know your secret. You’re a romantic man at heart. You crave it, if only you’d admit that to yourself.’
‘You misunderstand me. I gave you everything you wanted. Go.’
His words were a plea, wounded and raw. And at his pain her bright, blinding love for him burst inside.
‘You gave me money. I want something more.’
‘There’s nothing for you here.’
‘Everything’s here. I’ve come for your heart.’
Thea dropped to her knees in front of him. Looking up, she took his hands in hers.
‘Because I love you with all of mine.’
Christo watched her kneel before him. All sorts of visions flickered through his head. Of dark nights, a warm bed and Thea. Always Thea. He’d attempted to exorcise the house of her short existence there, but even after removing everything from her room the ghost of her still haunted it. Her smell, her shadow was everywhere. Turning every day into a prison, a purgatory from which there was no escape.
‘What madness is this?’
His voiced grated out, raw and ragged. He tried to pull his hands away but she held firm, gazing up at him with her cognac eyes. That look slid inside his veins. His one true addiction was setting him alight.
‘Courage, Christo.’
He stilled. Courage? He was looking at the bravest person he knew. Him...? He was the coward who’d driven her to this. On her knees, begging him. The guilt of it clawed in his chest.
‘You wanted your freedom,’ he said.
Still she held tight. The heat of her infernal fingers scorched him. The light in her eyes reached into his dark places. Damn her. It would take him an age to recover from this.
‘You touched me and I discovered what freedom was. It’s inside myself, not outside the walls which surrounded me. It’s loving with all that I am and all that I have. I’m free with you.’
When he looked at her face he saw it shining from within. Love. It poured from her and into him. How could she feel this w
ay when he had nothing to give? And yet the pain of her absence cut through him.
He fell to his knees in front of her. ‘I told you never to kneel. You should kneel to no man.’
‘I’m not kneeling to any man. I’m kneeling to the man I love. The man with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. For better. For worse. Though I can’t imagine anything worse than the pain of this time without you.’
‘What are you asking?’
‘Marry me.’
Time stopped. In this room, on his knees, looking into the soul of the woman he now knew he’d loved for months. She was handing him her heart. Did he have the courage to accept it and honour her the way he should?
‘I don’t know that I’m worthy.’
‘You prove yourself worthy every day. I see it. Your staff see it. The only person who doesn’t believe is you. So answer my question.’
He cupped her face in his hands. This incredible woman. He’d give her anything to ensure her happiness. Even his cracked and broken self. Because she wanted him. Believed in him.
He’d punished himself enough over the years, absorbing his parents’ disapprobation. But why accept their opinions about him when he rejected their judgement on everything else? Perhaps he did deserve the love Thea showed him now.
There was only one way to find out.
‘I zoí mou, s’agapó. My life, I love you.’
He’d fight every day to keep that smile on her face. He stood, pulling her with him. Holding her tight. Accepting all she offered.
‘Yes. Was there any doubt of my answer?’
She nuzzled into his chest. ‘Life’s full of doubt. But I see you like you saw me. Only a man who truly loved me would have let me go.’
And only a woman who truly loved him would have asked for him back.
‘My brave, beautiful Thea.’
‘I must be brave. It seems I have a wedding to plan.’
She ran her hands through his hair and all he could think about was the bedroom down the hall and staying there for days.
No, she deserved more.
He grabbed his phone and called the harbour master. ‘Yanis—ready the yacht. I’m travelling tomorrow. First light. With my fiancée.’
Thea raised her eyebrows.
‘You can plan the wedding,’ he said, ‘but I intend to start the honeymoon early.’
He swung her into his arms and she squealed with laughter. ‘I was right when I said you were a romantic.’
‘It’s all for you, Thea,’ he murmured, brushing his lips across hers.
She cupped his face in her hands. ‘No, not for me. From now on it’s for us.’
He smiled at this woman who would hold his heart for ever.
‘Always.’
EPILOGUE
WHITE MUSLIN CURTAINS billowed in the warm breeze from the Aegean. Each time they parted Christo caught a glimpse of the azure blue sea surrounding their island. Exquisite, but nothing matched the woman sprawled with him, replete on the rumpled sheets. Her bare skin like honey against the crisp white cotton.
Their trip here had been an escape after visiting Maria’s grave on Karpathos. Tidying the space, leaving flowers. For him, comforting his wife. Such a strong woman Maria had borne in Thea, it left him in awe. That day at the cemetery Christo gave a silent word of thanks to the mother-in-law he’d never known, for giving him such an incredible young woman to cherish.
Six months on from their honeymoon on this island, and he was still immersed in the fulfilment of every day. The magnificent whitewashed mansion had become their haven and escape where they relived their renewed vows and commitment to one another. With Raul and Elena as witnesses, it was all they’d needed, standing barefoot on the golden sand here and declaring their love. Nothing more, nothing less.
There was a rustle beside him. He remained still, lying on his stomach as Thea sat up. She leaned across his body, her long hair trailing over his back sending goose bumps of pleasure shivering across his skin. Her warm breath ghosted over his right shoulder blade, before she dropped her mouth in a gentle kiss. Right over where he now had his own tattoo, of a bluebird like hers.
‘Did it hurt?’
‘You’ve asked me this before.’ He felt her smile against his skin. ‘Many times.’ And each time he answered with the truth, she’d kiss all of him better. Inflicting her own kind of agony with her lips and hands. Now, it was his turn to smile. She bent down and kissed the upturned corner of his mouth.
‘Tell me again,’ she murmured, tracing the tattoo’s outline with her clever fingers. He closed his eyes, allowing her to explore for a while, even though his body had other ideas which involved him being far more assertive, and preferably inside of her.
‘Excessively.’ He’d wanted to experience a little of what she’d gone through. Anyhow, the pain had been worth it to honour Thea, and nothing compared to her past hardships. It was also a reminder of what bound them together. The bluebird a symbol of joy, not suffering.
There’d be no more suffering, not if he could help it.
‘My darling, brave husband.’
‘I’m hardly brave.’ He shrugged. ‘My wife leaves me in her shadow.’
‘You have your own fine attributes.’
Christo looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. ‘Well endowed?’
Thea tossed back her head, hair tumbling in unruly waves over her glorious, naked torso. Her throaty laugh sending a lick of pleasure right through him. It was his mission to hear it every day, because of him. He made sure she laughed loud and often. How he loved the sound.
‘Now you’re digging for compliments,’ she said, the laughter warming her voice. ‘When you know the answer to that question.’
Her skin flushed a beautiful pink. She’d perfected the art of looking seductive and coy all at once, and it never failed to intoxicate him. Their lovemaking left Christo in a constant state of deep, bone-numbing satisfaction. But it wasn’t only in bed that his life had reached the status of perfection. It was in the day-to-day. A true partnership of hearts and minds. The simple things like cooking a meal together. Helping raise money for her women’s refuge. Choosing colours for a nursery which wasn’t needed yet, although they’d talked of children. Thea assured him it was good to be prepared and he relished her joy in the task. Who knew there were so many different shades of yellow? He’d come to learn them all.
Having her in his life and in his arms completed him in ways he’d never thought possible. The ultimate privilege. Anything seemed achievable, because of her. ‘Now you’re being elusive about my attributes.’
‘Well,’ she said, looking up at the ceiling as if thinking hard. Nibbling on her plump lower lip in a way which heated his blood. He shifted on the mattress, rolling onto his back. ‘My husband’s protective.’
‘About you, of course.’
‘And dogged.’
‘Mmm...’ His pursuit of her father and brother had been relentless and deserved. He wouldn’t lower himself to even mentioning them in Thea’s presence any more. The legal tangle they were mired in over stolen antiquities filled enough newspapers. The scandal complete. If Thea chose to read about what befell them, that was up to her. He hoped she forgot they’d ever existed.
‘You’re modest too,’ she said. A smile of amusement hinted on her lips. He’d kiss that smile away soon enough. Christo stroked his fingers lazily over the skin of her thigh, her own responding goose bumps teasing his fingertips.
‘Now my wife exaggerates.’
He sat up and wrestled a giggling Thea underneath him, before her body melted soft and pliant on the cool sheets. She wrapped her arms round his neck, threading her fingers into his hair. ‘You’re loving.’ Her eyes gleamed the rich fire of cognac in candlelight. ‘And lovable. Never forget that.’
How could he, when they told each other each day? Wh
en they showed it with their bodies and hearts and souls. He believed it now, the ghosts of his childhood well and truly exorcised.
‘I’m loved.’ He brushed his lips across hers as she drew him into a kiss. ‘I love you.’
And Christo relished the lifetime of days ahead, to show Thea exactly how much.
Coming next month
ITALY’S MOST SCANDALOUS VIRGIN
Carol Marinelli
Dante’s want for her was perpetual, a lit fuse he was constantly stamping out, but it was getting harder and harder to keep it up. His breathing was ragged; there was a shift in the air and he desperately fought to throw petrol on the row, for his resistance was fast fading. ‘What did you think, Mia, that we were going to walk into the church together? A family united? Don’t make me laugh…’
No one was laughing.
‘Take your tea and go to bed.’ Dante dismissed her with an angry wave of his hand, but even as he did so he halted, for it was not his place to send her to bed. ‘I didn’t mean that. Do what you will. I will leave.’
‘It’s fine. I’m going up.’ She retrieved the tray.
‘We leave tomorrow at eleven,’ he said again as they headed through to the entrance.
‘Yes.’
She turned then and gave him a tight smile, and saw his black eyes meet hers, and there was that look again between them, the one they had shared at the dining table. It was a look that she dared not decipher.
His lips, which were usually plump and red, the only splash of colour in his black and white features, were for once pale. There was a muscle leaping in his cheek, and she was almost sure it was pure contempt, except her body was misreading it as something else.
She had always been aware of his potent sexuality, but now Mia was suddenly aware of her own.
Conscious that she was naked beneath the gown, her breasts felt full and heavy, aware of the lust that danced inappropriately in the air between them. The prison gates were parting further and she was terrified to step out. ‘Goodnight,’ she croaked, and climbed the stairs, almost tipping the tray and only able to breathe when she heard the door slam.
