‘I’ll buy you some earplugs.’
Thea lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘That won’t work. He’s a beast, I tell you. Why, last night—’
His chair scraped in protest along the tiles as he stood. Jaw clenched tight. Breathing hard.
‘Enough.’ The lies and manipulation stopped now. ‘Let Anna go before you horrify her any further.’
Thea released her grip and Anna ran back into the house. He sat. Took a drink of water. Attempted to cool the anger boiling his blood.
‘What is it about the words “real marriage” that you don’t understand?’
‘The pronouncement that I had to share your room came after I’d agreed to this arrangement of ours.’ She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. ‘That was underhanded. And as far as I’m concerned it doesn’t form part of our original agreement.’
He threw up his hands. ‘You’re trying to win this argument on a technicality?’
‘No. I’d prefer to talk about what the marriages I know of are actually like. My parents didn’t share a room. What about yours?’
His parents weren’t an example of marriage to which he aspired. Not that marriage was a state he’d ever thought he’d find himself in until that final argument with his father. But he didn’t want to give her any more ammunition.
He stretched his neck from side to side. It gave an audible and satisfying crack.
‘My parents weren’t traditional in many things.’
Their relationship had been one of mutually assured destruction. His father had loved his mother. His mother had loved the Callas fortune. A pregnancy and Christo’s birth had secured her future in a neat package.
‘So why do we need to be?’ Thea flicked her hair over her shoulders and pouted.
For all her theatrics, her lips were pink and dangerously kissable.
‘If you loved me, you’d let me have my own room.’
He’d learned from childhood that love and marriage were lies. And a caring family the biggest lie of them all.
Christo dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Since I don’t love you, what you say is meaningless.’
‘That’s the problem.’
Thea leaned forward, her hands splayed on the table. Christo’s gaze dropped as the front
of her sheer top fell open.
‘If you were pretending to love me properly it’s what you’d do.’
Was she guileless enough not to know that her position allowed him a perfect view of her magnificent cleavage? All silky skin and powerful temptation? Probably not. He suspected Thea didn’t do anything without good reason and a great deal of thought.
He stared for a moment longer than he ought, then pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘You’re a manipulator.’
‘You’re heartless.’
Thea flopped back into her seat, hands clenched tight on the damask tablecloth. Her colour faded till she was as pale as the white fabric under her hands. Something about it twisted tight in his gut.
Since when had he started developing a conscience? This was a business deal like any other. Though how he was going to survive another night, let alone another year with her in his room was anyone’s guess.
Then, over Thea’s shoulder, he spied movement. He reached out to take her clenched hand in his. Her eyes widened and she tried to tug away.
‘We’re being watched by my staff,’ he said, and she stilled. He pasted what he hoped was a warm smile on his face. ‘Whilst they’re paid well to be discreet, I’d prefer to give them nothing to talk about.’
Christo rubbed his thumb over Thea’s knuckles, trying to appear affectionate and attentive. Her eyes dropped to where he stroked gently back and forth, and the barest flush tinted her cheeks. Such a beautiful colour on her golden skin. A glow kindled deep inside him.