Then he held out his arm, that glimpse of uncertainty gone. She nodded, unable to speak given the lump in her throat, and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
As Giorgos escorted her into the chapel, Eleni caught sight of Damon standing at the altar. He was dressed in a stunningly tailored suit. He seemed taller, broader; his eyes were very blue. He claimed the attention of every one of her senses. Every thought. Her pulse raced, her limbs trembled. She tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t possibly be excited, could she? This was only part of the plan to secure her child’s legitimacy and freedom. This was only for her baby.
But those butterflies danced a complicated reel.
It’s just a contract. It’s only for the next year. It doesn’t mean anything...
But reciting her vows to Damon in the family chapel heightened her sense of reverence. Here—in front of her brother, in front of him, in this sanctuary and symbol of all things past and future—she had to promise to love him.
He’s the father of my child.
She could love him only for that, couldn’t she? It wasn’t a lie.
But a whisper of foreboding swept down her spine and she shivered just as Damon turned towards her. She met his gaze, almost frozen by the enormity of their actions.
But Damon wasn’t frozen. He had that slightly wicked expression in his eyes as he reached to pull her close.
The kiss sealing their wedding contract should have been businesslike, but he lingered a fraction too long. That heat coursed through her veins. She closed her eyes and in that instant was lost. Her bones ached and the instinct to lean into him overwhelmed her. Only at the exact moment of her surrender, he suddenly pulled away. She caught a glimpse of wildness in his eyes but then her lifetime of training took over. She turned and walked with him out of the chapel and into the formal throne room. There she dutifully posed for endless photos with Giorgos on one side of her, Damon on the other. She smiled and smiled and smiled. Perfectly Princess Eleni.
Her brother took her hand and bowed. ‘You make a beautiful bride, Eleni.’
Because all that mattered was how she looked and how this arrangement looked to the world? But Giorgos’s expression softened and he suddenly gave her a quick hug.
‘Take care of yourself.’ With the briefest of glances at Damon, her brother left.
A little dazed, Eleni gazed after him. It had been years since he’d hugged her. Her nerves lightened. The worst was over, right? Now she could move forward.
‘Eleni.’
She turned.
Damon stood too close, too handsome, his expression too knowing. That little respite from inner tension was over as she realised the first night of her marriage lay ahead. The beginning of the end of the thing neither of them had wanted in the first place.
‘We should take a couple of photos somewhere less formal,’ Damon suggested.
Eleni shook her head as his glance around the ornate room revealed his less than impressed opinion.
‘There’s nowhere “less formal” anywhere in this palace,’ she informed him with perverse pleasure.
‘What about outside?’ Damon eyed up the French doors that no one had opened in Eleni’s life.
‘That’s locked,’ she said.
Damon turned the handle and the door opened silently and easily on the hinge.
Of course it did.
He sent her a triumphant smile that did even more annoying things to her insides.
‘You’re the most irritating creature alive,’ she grumbled.
‘I know,’ he commiserated drolly. ‘But you still want me.’
‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, stalking outside to get away from him as much as anything.
‘This is your palace, Eleni. You’re allowed to run around in it, right?’ He was still too close.
‘You’re...’
‘What?’ he challenged, arrogance in his eyes as he wrapped his arm around her waist, stopping her flight and drawing her close. ‘What am I?’
Not good for her health.
Eleni half laughed, half groaned as she gave into temptation and leaned against him. But she refused to answer.
Damon retaliated physically. Magically. Reigniting those embers settled so slightly beneath her skin. The kiss banished the last butterflies and a bonfire burned, engulfing her body in a delicious torture of desire. This time he held nothing back, pulling her close enough for her to feel just how she affected him. Desire flared, compounded by the awareness that, this time, there was nothing to stop them.
Click. Click, click, click.
She put her hands on his broad chest and pushed, remembering too late there was a freaking photographer following them.
‘I’m the Princess,’ she muttered, mainly to remind herself.
But Damon kept her close with one arm around her waist and a light grip on her jaw. ‘I didn’t marry “the Princess”.’
‘Yes, you did.’ There was no separating who she was from what she was. She had to accept that and now he did too.
The photographer looked disappointed when Damon sent him away. As he left, thudding blades whirred overhead and she glanced up to see her brother’s helicopter swiftly heading north.
‘So now we’re alone,’ Damon said softly. ‘And not a second too soon.’
She suppressed the shiver at the determination in his tone and gazed at the rings on her finger to avoid looking at him. He’d surprised her in the chapel, sliding an engagement ring on her finger as well as a wedding band.
‘You don’t like them?’ he asked, inexorably escorting her towards that open French door.
On the contrary, she loved them, but she was wary of showing it. She couldn’t quite make out his mood. Was he angry as well as aroused? ‘How did you pick them so quickly?’
A grim smile briefly curved his mouth. ‘I had just a little longer to prepare for our wedding than you did.’
Even so, his organisational skills were impressive. ‘It’s a sapphire?’
He shook his head. ‘A blue diamond for my blue bride.’
Her heart knocked. The stone’s colour was the exact shade of the dress she’d worn that fateful night.
‘You still look blue.’ He cocked his head curiously. ‘Why? You have the support of your brother. Everything that mattered has been resolved. So why so sad?’
Because this wasn’t going to last. Because for all the foolishness in the garden, this was as much of a charade as her wedding to Xander would have been. Because she was a romantic fool. Part of her had wanted real love on her wedding day.
You can’t be a child any more, Eleni. You’re having a child.
Unable to answer his demanding tone, she walked through the palace towards her private apartment. There wasn’t a servant or soldier to be seen, as if by some silent decree
they knew to stay out of sight. And it was a good thing too. She’d seen the banked heat in Damon’s eyes. She knew he wasn’t about to show her any mercy.
Her pulse skittered, speeding up the nearer she got to her rooms. At the foot of the staircase he reached out and took her hand.
She tried to hide the quickening of her breath but she knew he could feel the slamming pulse at her wrist and she could see the tension tightening his features too.
He wanted and he would have. Because she wanted too. And maybe this ‘want’ would have to do. Maybe they could make this work. With the reluctant acceptance of her brother, with the physical attraction binding them, with the baby...maybe this could work indefinitely.
She paused at the top of the staircase, drawing in a deeper breath to try to steady her anticipation. Damon released her hand, only to swing her into his arms.
‘What are you doing?’ she whisper-shrieked, clutching his shoulders as he suddenly strode down the last corridor to her apartment. ‘You’re not carrying me over my own threshold?’
‘Indulge me.’
Excitement rippled down her spine, feathering goosebumps across her skin at his intensity. ‘I didn’t think you’d be one for wedding traditions.’ Her throat felt raspy as she tried to tease.
His grip on her tightened for a nanosecond, and then eased again.
‘I was never getting married,’ he said carelessly as he kicked the door shut behind them. ‘But seeing as that vow has been torn up, I might as well make the most of it.’
She looked into his face as he set her down, wishing she could read his mind. ‘Why didn’t you want to marry?’
He hesitated for a split second. ‘It’s not in our nature to be with one person all our lives.’
Our nature, or just his? His warning stabbed deep, bursting the warm bubble of desire.
‘You don’t believe in monogamy?’ she clarified, his harsh reality cooling her completely.
‘No. I don’t.’
So he would cheat on her.
He caught her shoulders, preventing her from walking away from him. ‘I think it traps people into a perceived perfection that can’t be maintained,’ he said quietly, forcing her to meet his gaze. ‘No one is infallible, Eleni. Certainly not me. Definitely not you.’