‘Annabelle, seven years ago I made a selfish decision that has completely changed your life. If we have sex right now, I have no reason to think you’re not going to regret it, and that you’re not going to think I’ve taken advantage of you.’
‘But—you’re the one who said you want this to be a real marriage.’
He rubbed his hand over his stubbly jaw. ‘I do want that. I want us to find some common ground, and right now the fact we obviously still have this chemistry is a great start. But you’re completely blindsided by all this—I’m not going to take advantage of you in what could just be a moment of indecision or uncertainty.’ He ignored her lifted hand, moving closer, so he could lace his fingers with hers.
‘I want you. I want you more than I have words to express, so believe me when I say it’s taking all my willpower to walk away from you. But it’s what I should have done seven years ago.’
Her eyes were huge, hollowed out. ‘You regret it that much?’
He shifted his head, surprised by her interpretation. But it was accurate. ‘Yes,’ he said with a nod. ‘I do. Not because that night wasn’t great. Not because I didn’t want you. But because I should have been strong enough to understand that we weren’t well-matched. You were nothing like the women I usually see. You still aren’t.’
She spun away from him, dragging her hand free. Her back was trembling.
‘I know that.’
‘No, you still don’t understand. You’re so beautiful, Annabelle, but you’re also so innocent. So inexperienced and naïve. For me, that night was just sex, and for you it was...what? Love?’
He saw her flinch. ‘Whatever I thought it was then doesn’t matter now.’
‘But it does. If we’re going to have a physical relationship, we need to define the parameters of that first. I won’t hurt you again, Annabelle. I have regretted hurting you for seven years—I can’t remember that night without a deep sense of shame. I won’t let that happen again.’
She’d turned back around and was staring at him as though he’d just said, ‘I kill kittens for fun.’
How could she not see what he was doing? That this was a sacrifice and a half? Did she have any idea how much his body was screaming for her?
‘Seven years ago, I thought you cared for me,’ she whispered, and that same sense of shame and guilt fired inside him once more. ‘I was stupid and naïve, just like you said.’
‘I did care for you, Annabelle.’
She rejected that. ‘You cared about Lewis’s sister, not about me as my own person.’
‘I cared about you enough to push you away—hard—so you wouldn’t waste any more of your time fantasising about me.’
She held up a hand again to silence him. ‘I’d built you up in my mind to be something you weren’t. I had all these ideas about you, and I know it was stupid. It was a crush. I don’t feel any of those things now.’
He wondered why that bothered him so much. Ego, he thought, with a shake of his head.
‘I’ve had seven years to wake up and smell the coffee. I get it. I was just someone for you to have sex with, nothing more meaningful. You’re someone who lives your life in a certain way. I don’t have any problem with that, and you shouldn’t feel bad about it. My expectations were just way out of step with the reality of what you were offering. But they’re not now. I get what the parameters of this are. I get that sex is probably the only thing we’ll ever have in common.’
‘And that’s enough for you?’ he asked, carefully keeping his voice devoid of emotion.
She sighed. It was all he needed to hear. He moved closer, coming to stand in front of her.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He lifted his hand to her arm, slowly running a finger down it, his gaze following the gesture, noting the goose bumps that followed in its wake. ‘Let’s take it slow and make sure you don’t get hurt this time around. Okay?’
CHAPTER SIX
ANNIE RAN HER fingers over the rows and rows of designer outfits, shaking her head as she moved around the walk-in wardrobe. Could it still be called a wardrobe when it was the size of her old apartment? she mused, pulling a drawer open and gasping when she saw that it was filled with neatly organised handbags—also boasting designer names. She shut it again quickly.
This couldn’t all be for her, surely?
Everything she’d tried on that morning and loved was there, but there was much more as well. It was as though someone had taken her impressions and used them as the building blocks of her fantasy wardrobe. There was everything from casual—jeans and yoga pants—to sophisticated and glamorous—slinky silken dresses, and even a couple of ball gowns, as well as trouser suits and blouses. It was the kind of wardrobe a teenaged Annie would have fantasised about.
With a small smile, she pulled one of the dresses up and held it against herself. Just as in the boutique, she saw how beautiful the dress was, and how much it suited her. She imagined that when she wore it she would look, and feel, a million dollars.
Speaking of which, all the price tags had been removed, which was a saving grace, because if she could easily tally up what he’d spent she’d never let him keep them. That, though, was a technicality. She could estimate the expense and it didn’t change the fact that her heart had lifted at the sight of so many beautiful things, and all for her.
Ordinarily, she might have gone to lightly chastise him, and then to thank him, but what had happened between them earlier had caused Annie anxiety all evening. Max had arrived home not long after Dimitrios had put an end to their passion so she’d been able to busy herself with the important job of helping him assimilate this dramatic change in his circumstances. Fortunately, Max was a grounded kid and—mostly—he took it on the chin. His room was enormous, and he found the idea of a nanny interesting, but having his familiar books and train set waiting for him in his room seemed to assuage any concerns he might have had.