‘We need to agree to stop all the games. All the blackmail.’
‘Nai—yes. This can be done.’
‘I’ll sign a prenup. Whatever you need. But I want to move forward from a place of equality. You have—’ she paused infinitesimally ‘—all the power. And that’s not okay. I am Amalia’s mother. If we marry, you will never have sole custody of my child.’
‘Understood. And agreed.’
‘If the current caretakers of the bed and breakfast prove themselves, and if they are happy to do so, they can continue in my absence until we hear what my mother would like to do with the business. Until then, Amalia and I will stay here in Greece.’
‘Good.’
‘I want to be able to visit Ireland and spend time there each year.’
‘Absolutely. It’s important that all aspects of her heritage are available to her. I will have brochures of possible homes here by the morning.’
‘I want to learn Greek,’ she said, taking him by surprise. ‘I won’t be cut out from conversations between you and my daughter. This marriage will only work if we communicate openly.’
‘We will find someone right away.’ Why was she agreeing so suddenly? Where was the catch?
‘And...’ Was that a blush he could see paint her cheeks? ‘And I will not be sharing a bed with you.’
‘What?’
‘This will be a marriage on paper, one with legal rights, but I will not share your bed.’
‘You exp
ect me to live like a monk, and you a nun?’ he demanded, his body crying out to reject her preposterous stipulation.
‘I have very few expectations of you, Dimitri. I just don’t want to find out about it. The possibility of it is one thing, but knowing it? I’d rather not.’
That cut him deeply. He had never made claims of sainthood and certainly had his fair share of experience, but he would never treat his wife the way his father had treated either his stepmother or his own mother.
‘Hear me now, Anna. I would never disrespect my wife, or the mother of my child in that way. Ever.’ His words were binding, the promise ringing in his own ears. If Anna was taken aback by the vehemence in his tone, Dimitri didn’t see it. ‘But if you think this marriage will be left outside the bedroom, you are very much mistaken.’
He wanted, so much, to go to her, to lean into the area of heat surrounding her body. To relish it. But he didn’t. He left the table between them, allowed her the space and clarity to fully understand his words. But despite the distance, desire was thick on the air around them and the little flare of the pulse at her neck told him all he needed to know.
‘I won’t sleep with you,’ she whispered, her voice trembling as she struggled to hide her attraction to him.
‘You would deny yourself the pleasure we shared? I still remember the cries of your ecstasy as you came apart in my arms. As you begged me for more. Deeper, harder, again and again. The way your eyes opened as I met every single one of your requests.’
The way her eyes opened now, wide but unseeing, lost in the memory his words had conjured, her sharp inhale as her body swayed towards him. His own arousal was painfully hard, pressing against the material of his trousers, and the sight of her own desire, the way her nipples had hardened, peaked against the thin silk of her dress, was the only satisfaction he had at that moment.
‘Tell me, Anna... Do you remember?’
She inwardly cursed as a shaky breath left her lungs, feeling it was as much an answer as he needed. Of course she remembered. His simple words had plunged her into an arousal that she felt in every single part of her body. The present clashed with the past as she felt his caress on her skin, relished the memory of him within her, filling her, completing her in a way she had never imagined. She felt now her skin flush, her erratic heartbeat flutter, even though he was still standing on the other side of the table. She hated that her body made a mockery of her words. Betraying her in the most fundamental way.
Yes, she wanted to cry. She did remember. She did want to reach out, to touch him, feel the weight of his punishing kisses, the way that only he made her body come alive. But it was the greater risk, the one to her heart, that she was truly fearful of. And that was why she couldn’t let herself be with him. She couldn’t let him in at all. Because if she did, she wasn’t sure that she would survive it.
‘I will make you this promise, Anna.’ His voice called to her as she struggled with the intoxicating feelings of her desire. ‘I will not seduce you with fine words and wine, I will not come to your door. Not once. And I will not touch you against your will.’
Anna jerked a breath of air into her lungs—had she done it? Had she got him to agree to her condition?
‘I won’t have to.’ Dimitri pulled his head back, just enough to meet her eyes. ‘You will come to me. You will beg me to touch you. To take you as I did that night, over and over again. You will plead with me to pleasure you, to find the release that only I have given you. And I will, Anna. I assure you that I will. But you will be the one to come to me.’
* * *
Weeks slipped through Anna’s fingers like sand. She had settled into a strange routine with Dimitri, who spent his mornings with her and Amalia at breakfast, and returned after the sun had set. She had learned to both long for and resent those hours. He hovered in the background as if he were some dark angel, waiting for her to make a mistake. He was there with her when her daughter woke in the night, watching her soothe Amalia’s tears. He shared Anna’s joy as Amalia would race along the patio, holding herself up at the plastic railing fencing off the swimming pool.