“You wouldn’t.”
“Allow me to know my own mind.”
“You get very formal in your speech when you are annoyed, did you know that?”
“It has been mentioned.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want you to be ignorant of a tell that could hinder your diplomatic or business negotiations.”
“For my country they are often one and the same.”
“For most countries, I think that’s the case.”
“You may well be right.” He continued to wash her.
“You’re still bossy.”
“It is a trait you are more than capable of withstanding.”
“You have a lot of faith in me.”
“I chose you for my princess. Of course I do.”
And though he’d rejected her it hadn’t been for reasons to do with her character. “The world is very black and white for you, isn’t it?”
“I know what I must do. I know what I want. I know how to go after both.” He settled on the large fluffy rug she kept beside the bath and then continued to wash her as if every single toe and finger needed his undivided attention.
“Am I something you want as well as something you must do?” she asked, not sure she wanted the answer.
“You can ask that after what happened not ten minutes past?”
“This is me clinging.”
Incredibly, he smiled. Lifting his head, so she could see the expression had reached his gorgeous eyes, he nodded once. “Good. Yes. I want you. Very much.”
It wasn’t love, but it was better than pure duty.
*
Maks held Gillian in his arms, her body lax in sleep, her features soft and vulnerable as they would not be awake.
The sun had risen thirty minutes ago and his schedule for the morning was tight, but he had not gotten up.
He could not help feeling like he’d narrowly averted disaster. Even more disconcerting was his inability to identify how he’d done it.
He did not know why Gillian had agreed to marry him.
No question, she’d taken their baby’s welfare to heart. And she said she still loved Maks, but neither gelled in his mind as the reason for her reversal on her stance about agreeing to marry him before she hit her second trimester.
Was it the sex?
The physicality between them was explosive, but was it enough to push her over that mental precipice she’d been balancing on?
He was grateful she had agreed to marry him without doubt, but Maks did not like when the motives of others were cloudy to him. Perhaps it was the way he’d been raised, or his position, but it was never enough to simply know, he had to know why.
His life fit into neatly ordered compartments; it always had. The one where Gillian resided had been destroyed ten weeks ago when Maks read the results of her yearly medical examination. Her agreement to marry should have created a new compartment that he could understand and rely on.
It hadn’t.
The compartment he had marked for his wife was no longer defined and measurable. And while that made him uncomfortable, he could not regret Gillian’s willingness to align her life with his.
Though he found it hard to admit, even to himself, she filled empty places in his life he hadn’t realized existed. He was not entirely convinced those places were not supposed to remain empty.
The last months had been hollow in a way his life never was before the recognition that his role and responsibilities might not be enough.
One night of incredible sex, a few days of connection and that hollowness was gone. The possibility it could return made something tighten in his chest.
He was never letting this woman out of his life again.
She thought the prenuptial agreement was for her protection, but he was as eager to have her sign it as she was to take measures to protect the future of their family. Unlike his parents, or her own, theirs would be a real marriage for a lifetime.
Sliding his hand down her arm, he let it come to rest over hers, the large square-cut diamond of her engagement ring pressing into his palm, giving him a deep sense of satisfaction.
The expensive piece of jewelry marked her as his, but not as primally, and therefore satisfyingly as the passion mark he’d left on her breast, or the slight razor burn on her neck that evidenced his passion of the night before.
The desire to own and be owned surged through him.
Yes, he was a possessive guy. He would be king; absolute allegiance was something he’d been taught to give and expect.
What shocked him was the equally strong desire for others and Gillian herself to acknowledge that he was hers. Her fiancé, soon to be her husband.
The father of her child, the one and only man she would ever expend her passion on.
“What have you woken up thinking about?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement and sleepy desire.
“What do you mean?” he hedged.
She shifted slightly so his hardened sex rubbed against her hip. “What do you think I mean?”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes. That.” She laughed, the sound so pleasing his erection jumped against her hip.
“My desire for you is nothing new.”
“No, it isn’t.” She turned so her beautiful blue eyes could meet his. “I like it.”
“I also.”
“Want to do something about it?” she asked with a comical leer.
It was his turn to laugh, the sound going from his mouth to hers as he claimed her lips with a ferocity only this woman had ever sparked in him.
Their lovemaking was passionate and drawn out, Gillian giving as good as she got, and Maks had reason to appreciate her agreement to be his wife once again.
Afterward, she cuddled in his arms, clinging as she so rarely allowed herself to do and in a way he found himself craving more with each passing day.
As much as he enjoyed the moment, he could not prolong it. His day’s schedule had been set before he’d arrived at her apartment the night before and he would already have to cancel the phone conference he had planned for before his early morning flight.
With more regret than he wanted to admit to, even to himself, he pulled away to get out of the bed. “I have to fly to Volyarus this morning.”
It was not lost on him that she made no effort to hold him back. Gillian was no doubt correct that many men like him would find that reaction a relief from their lover. He would have been one with any other lover before her, but she was more than the woman who shared his bed.
Gillian Harris was the woman he had chosen to spend his life with.
For all her claims to love him, she did not act like a woman whose happiness depended on his presence. In any way.
He did not like the suspicion that he
might find her presence in his life more necessary than she found his.
She sat up, pulling the sheet and comforter with her as she did so, maintaining a modesty unnecessary between them.
But strangely appealing nonetheless.
Was there anything about this woman he did not find attractive? Her lack of clinginess notwithstanding, he could not think of one.
“Okay.” She tucked her blond hair behind her ear. “You’d better take a shower then.”
“You could ask when I have to leave, or how long I plan to be gone.” Did she not have even the most rudimentary interest in his plans?
Her brows furrowed and Gillian’s head canted to one side. “You want me to quiz you on your schedule? Wouldn’t it just be easier to sync our calendars?”
Annoyance surged through him. “You’re very tech-oriented for an artist.”
“What can I say? I love my smartphone, but you know that.”
“Yes.” He should have gotten her the newest one on the market instead of a ridiculously expensive ring from Tiffany’s.
“Whatever you’re thinking isn’t very nice. I think you’d better keep it to yourself.”
“You think you can read my mind?” he scoffed.
“Your expression isn’t exactly stealthy right now.”
Affronted, he drew himself to his full impressive height. “My ability to hide my thoughts is second to none.”
He’d been training at it since birth.
“When you’re making an effort, yes, it is.”
“Perhaps I have allowed myself to become too relaxed around you.”
“We’re going to be married.” Her brows furrowed and her lips formed a straight line. “I don’t think I would like it if you hadn’t.”
“Oh.” He had not considered that angle. “My parents are not trusted confidants to one another.”
“We have already established that we are not going to emulate them in important ways.”
“And this is one of those ways?”
“Absolutely.”
He nodded, accepting that she expected a similar level of trust to what he gave his cousin.
Shockingly the prospect did not bother him. “I would like you to go with me.”
“This morning?” she asked, her expression not promising.
“Yes.”