“Excuse me, Talia,” he mutters. “I have work to do. See you at dinner.”
As soon as he’s gone, she frowns at me. “He’ll be at dinner with us?”
I walk over to her and grip her wrist. She smells like lavender, a pleasing scent that simmers some of my rage at seeing Aris swooping in on her like a fucking hawk. “It’s a family dinner,” I explain, studying her plump lips. “My father and mother will be there as well.”
Her blue eyes widen. “I’m going to meet your mother?”
“You’re my fiancée,” I remind her with a smirk. “Of course you’ll meet her. She’s been told about you and will be helping to plan our wedding.” My voice drops to a low octave as I reach up to brush a blond strand of hair from her eyes. “You’ll respect my mother, yes?”
The unspoken threat lingers in the air between us.
Ignoring my words, she narrows her eyes at me and huffs out, “You’re sure taking this marriage debt seriously.”
Sliding my hand to her throat, I gently caress her soft skin. My thumb lingers on her fat vein that throbs wildly. I make her nervous. Good. “I’m a successful businessman. I take all business seriously,” I utter, my eyes locked with her flaring blue ones. “And, like my father, I take marriage even more seriously.”
She swallows and her throat moves against my palm. This woman is so delicate. A butterfly caught in a spider’s web—her wings about to be tied down indefinitely.
“Come now, moró mou. We have important matters to see to.”
I release her neck but not her wrist. She hesitates for a fraction of a second when I pull her with me, but I’m stronger and she’s forced to follow along. Soon, she falls into step beside me and I release my grip on her. We walk down the stone pathway between other private villas until we come to the side entrance of the hotel. Her curiosity and apparent appreciation of our hotel gets the better of her once we step inside. When we pass a painting I had flown in from Portugal recently, I sense her hesitation. She wants to look at it but is afraid to ask.
If she is to be my wife, she’ll have to tap into that bravery sooner rather than later.
Animals can sense fear. They thirst for it. Can scent it in the air. Hunt it down. Humans are no different. She wants to be hunted? I’ll fucking hunt her.
“This way, mikró kounéli.” Little rabbit.
She shoots me a venomous glare—one that’s better suited for a reptile that eats little rabbits. Her sudden flare of animosity has heat coursing through me straight to my dick. I let out a dark chuckle before guiding her to my office where Faustus and his team await.
Once inside my office, she stumbles slightly. I place my palm on the small of her back to steady her. Faustus—a world-renowned jeweler from Athens—has set up my office with his best pieces. Several men stand in corners, their black suits and impassive features meant to blend in. In reality, they’re there to keep anyone from robbing Faustus blind of his precious treasures.
“Faustus,” I greet, reaching to shake hands with the short, white-haired man.
“Mr. Demetriou.” He shakes my hand and then offers his to Talia. She’s been brought up to be a lady, apparently, because she smiles and takes his hand. “Lovely woman.”
“Thank you,” she utters. “What’s all this?” She shoots me a questioning look.
“This,” Faustus answers for me, “is the finest gold, platinum, silver, and stones in the entire world.” He grins wide at her, his white mustache stretching across his face. “Only the finest for a Demetriou.”
I can tell it’s on the tip of her tongue to argue that she’s still a Nikolaides, but she wisely keeps her mouth shut.
“Come,” Faustus tells her. “Sit.”
I sit in my desk chair while he sits in the chair next to her, opposite my desk. Faustus pulls one of the jewel-covered black trays over to her lap. As he explains the quality of each piece, I study my fiancée. Her brows are furled and her nostrils flare. She’d love to be anywhere but here, no doubt, but that’s too fucking bad. After seeing Aris with his arms wrapped around her, I’d nearly exploded with fury. She needs a heavy, priceless ring on her finger so the whole fucking world knows who she belongs to.
Touching my woman will have consequences.
Aris knows this and yet he tests my patience.
Because he’s my brother, he’s allowed a small sliver of leniency. But my graciousness toward my flesh and blood has been eliminated. I won’t cut him with words next time. No, I’ll cut him with something much sharper.
“You prefer pink?” Faustus asks her, offering her a rather large pink diamond to inspect.
Her face sours and she shakes her head. “These are all too big.”