Page 18 of Enraptured

CHRISTOS

SHE’S LATE.

The antique clock ticks above the fire blazing in the hearth. My butler, George, stands at attention by the door. “Shall I fetch her?”

“No. I’ll do it.”

Throwing down my napkin I stand, noticing the soup going cold. Steam rose from the tasty broth as George brought each in, but now they sit, going cold, congealing.

I take the stairs two at a time, barging in her door without knocking. My eyes focus on the oversized bed. It’s messy, unmade, a chaos of sheets and twisted blankets. I smirk. It fits the girl who slept in it. She’s barely tamed. A wild horse fighting capture, twisting and kicking from the rope lassoed around her neck.

But she’s not fighting now. She’s still. Her back faces me as she stares out the window.

“I’m not coming. Why would you think I would?” She turns away from the sunset stretching across the sky to face me.

“To please me?”

“You are definitely insane. The last thing I want to do is please you.”

“You please me…just by existing,glykía mou.”

“Don’t call me that!” She fires back in rapid Greek.

I pause, nostrils flaring, color slashing both my tight cheekbones. “Theos, you turn me on.”

“Too bad. Because the last thing you do—isturn me on.”

“Liar.” He rasps in Greek, cupping my shoulders, bending to slide his lips down my neck to nip my collarbone. My head involuntarily falls to the side, giving him more access. His low chuckle brings me back to my senses as his hands press me closer.

“So, you’re a skillful lover. So are many men. I’m young, fertile and you awoke desires I never knew I had. Bravo. Thank you. But you’ll never touch me here again,” I point a finger at my own chest, “or here.” I point to my temple. “And without those two places, this is pointless,” I gesture between the two of us.

“Keep your love. I never wanted it.” His words are a slap in my face.

“Be downstairs in five minutes, dressed properly or I’ll take every scrap of fabric from this room, making you walk around naked…andcollared. Just because it’s not here, doesn’t mean it’s not on.” His finger traces a line around my throat.

I recoil at his light touch. I’d rather wear a ball gown while eating bugs than let him collar me again.

“Fine,” I snap. “Leave so I can change.”

He saunters to the other side of the room, crosses his heels and leans against the tall bed with his arms folded waiting for me to move.

I walk into the large closet, grabbing the most inappropriate dress I can find. It’s a ball gown, I think. I don’t flick the closet light on as I change, pulling the damn thing over my head.

“You look ridiculous.”

“I don’t do dresses,” I mutter, blowing a lock of knotted hair out of my face.

“Yes. I can see that.” He shrugs, holding out a hand. I walk briskly past him, the satin dress swishing with every step.

“Utterly, bloody ridiculous.”

“This whole thing is ridiculous!” I throw my hands up, exasperated.

“It is isn’t it. Fuck dinner…we could have dessert right here.” He moves next to me.

My shoulders tense as his finger reaches out to brush down my bare arm. “You hurt me.”

“I know.”

---