She became hyper-aware of every subtle touch. The way the luscious fabric of her gown fell against her as she moved. The caress of the satiny silk lining over her skin. Christo’s choice. Christo’s dress.
It was almost like his hands all over her. How much better would they feel than the silk that clothed her...? She craved it—craved his fingers exploring every curve, every secret place. The dark mystery that was Christo lit a burn deep inside her, flushing across her skin. Her nipples pebbled against the bodice of her dress, making every movement exquisite agony. She leaned into Christo’s hard body, all of her attuned to him.
He tightened his arm around her. ‘Elena’s arrived,’ he said, waking her from heated fantasies.
‘Where?’ Did he notice the huskiness of her voice? Christo gave no hint of it.
‘In the corner—near the statue of Poseidon.’
She glimpsed her friend in a yellow dress and waved, trying to get her attention through the crush of guests.
‘I’ll take you to her. You’ve done enough smiling at strangers for me.’
‘No. I’ll go myself. You’ve too many people who need to congratulate you.’
Thea moved to leave Christo, slipping from his hold. The cool air where his hand had been felt like a loss.
He raised his eyebrows, stroking his hand down her arm till his fingers entwined in hers. He squeezed. ‘You’re sure?’
Thea looked up at him, her gaze snagging on the soft warmth in his green eyes, on his full lips which quirked at the corners.
The breath jagged in her throat. She needed to leave before she embarrassed herself. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’
‘Take your time. You need some fun.’ He kissed her hand in a perfect display of chivalry and let her go.
She hurried towards where she’d last seen her friend, excited to talk to her about how her life felt as if it were achieving some form of happiness, even in this arranged marriage.
‘Thea.’
She froze. That familiar voice. Like being tossed into an icy river.
‘You’ve been ignoring your father since you married. Talk to me a while.’
The old man himself stood there, arms out wide as if wanting to give her a hug. Smiling, but not with his eyes. They were a cold, muddy brown, fixed on her like a shark seeing prey in the water. She looked around furtively, but Christo was nowhere to be seen. The blood seeped to her toes and her vision blurred.
No. She was stronger than this. Her father was the weak one, bullying women. ‘I’ve nothing to say to you.’
‘Young love! You’ve forgotten your family.’ He laughed.
The mirthless sound ran like frigid water through her veins. ‘Family? I’ve no family here.’
Tito’s eyes narrowed. There was nothing but disdain on his face now. ‘What would your husband have to say to that?’
Thea gritted her teeth. ‘He’s no part of this conversation. You sold me off for your own interests and then broke your promise to me about Alexis!’
To anyone watching it would look as though father and daughter were having a close conversation. But a war was being waged here. One she wouldn’t lose.
‘Your bastard half-brother will be interested to know how you’re playing with his future.’ Her father continued to give her that dead smile. ‘I gave you clear instructions. Where’s the information I want?’
She’d never even considered giving her father any information about Christo’s company, and yet here was more confirmation that Alexis had paid the price for her decisions. The ache of it cut deep inside.
‘Get the information yourself! You don’t own me now. You passed that privilege on to Christo and he won’t help you.’
Her father moved in close, looming over her. She wavered, the sick feeling at his proximity clawing at her throat. But she wouldn’t cower, and she wouldn’t hide. Not anymore.
‘I’m sure you could convince him to do anything you wanted.’ Her father’s hard mouth turned up in a sneer, as if he’d stepped in something bad. ‘Using your charms, your lies. It’s in your breeding, with that mother of yours.’
She took a step back, the roil of her anger burning fierce. How dared he mention Maria, when he’d tried to obliterate her memory for so many years?