‘I was hungry.’
‘Of course you were, agape mou,’ he agreed, silkily. ‘Hungry enough to pick at your food with marked indifference and then to push it around your plate? But your face is pale and your eyes strained, so I suggest you retire to the bedroom and take an afternoon nap. It’s been a long day.’
His words made sense because Tamsyn was tired. But the memory of that petal-strewn bed kept flickering into her mind and she knew she couldn’t keep skirting round the issue. In London she’d told him there was to be no sex and he needed to realise she meant it. But she couldn’t discuss the subject here—not with Manalena poking her beaming head around the door and asking if they’d like coffee.
Her husband declined the offer, his drawled response bringing an instant smile to Manalena’s face as she remained in the doorway, watching them. And when Xan walked around the table and held out his hand towards Tamsyn, she found herself taking it. She told herself she was doing this for the housekeeper’s benefit and maybe she was. But she couldn’t deny that she was enjoying the sensation of Xan’s strong fingers encircling hers, as he led her upstairs towards the master bedroom. Of course she was. Because in those few moments she felt safe. As if nothing could ever harm her so long as she was with this powerful and charismatic man.
And that was nothing but an illusion. She was nothing but a bought bride, to be disposed of as soon as possible.
She was shivering as he closed the bedroom door behind them, acutely aware of the intimacy of the enclosed space. She ran her fingertips over the wilting bouquet she’d placed on a nearby table and then, when there was no room left for prevarication, looked into his face. ‘Where am I sleeping?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Judging by the amount of petals which seem to have been offloaded onto the bed, I’d say right here.’
She shook her head, hating the sudden hot prickle of her breasts. ‘I told you I didn’t want any intimacy, Xan, so therefore it makes more sense for me to have my own bedroom.’
‘And if I were to grant you your wish, that would bring into question the validity of our marriage,’ he answered coolly. ‘Which kind of defeats the whole purpose of you being here.’
‘So we’ve got to share a bed?’
‘It’s a very large bed.’
‘I can see that for myself. But it doesn’t matter how big it is,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t want...’
‘What don’t you want, Tamsyn?’
She stiffened as she heard the soft mockery in his voice. Was he going to make her spell it out? And if he was, so what? She was no longer the shrinking little virgin who had given herself to him one starry desert night, even if right now she felt like it. This man knew her like no other. He had kissed her lips and suckled her breasts. He had shown her how he liked to be touched and stroked and had then thrust deep inside her hungry body. He had seen her vulnerable in the midst of her orgasm. Had heard her stumble out his name in a choking cry as she tumbled over the edge. Surely that gave her the right to say what was on her mind. ‘Sex,’ she managed, her cheeks growing hot.
‘It isn’t obligatory to have sex with me.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not planning to demand my conjugal rights, if that’s what you’re worried about. Like I said, it’s a big bed.’
‘And you think it’s possible for us to lie side by side and, and...’ Her voice tailed off, unable to articulate the confusion of her feelings which were compounded by the sheer depth of her inexperience. Did he guess that? Was that why the look he slanted her seemed almost compassionate?
‘I think it’s possible,’ he said slowly. ‘It won’t be easy and it certainly won’t be enjoyable, but in the end the decision is yours, Tamsyn. Yet all you have to do is say the word and we could have one hell of a honeymoon.’
Her cheeks grew even hotter. ‘I don’t know how you can be...so...callous.’
‘And I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it. You think every time a couple have sex, there has to be some great big emotion underlying it?’ His cobalt gaze seared into her. ‘Didn’t it ever occur to you that sexual gratification is just one of life’s fundamental pleasures, Tamsyn?’
Tamsyn was aware of a sudden emptiness. A disappointment. As if he’d just burst some invisible bubble. As if the stories women told themselves about happy-ever-after really were a myth. ‘And that’s all there is to it?’ she asked, in a smal
l flat voice.
He shrugged. ‘It exists for the procreation of children, but that’s not going to be an issue for us, is it?’
‘No,’ she agreed, unprepared for another unexpectedly painful clench of her heart. ‘It’s not going to be an issue.’
‘Don’t take it so personally,’ he advised softly. ‘Sex doesn’t have to be about love.’
‘I realise that. I may be relatively inexperienced, but I’m not stupid!’ she declared. ‘I’m not looking for love but if I was, you’d be right at the bottom of my wish-list, Xan Constantinides!’
Her words sounded genuine and Xan gave the ghost of a smile because she really was surprising. Up-close contact with his enormous wealth didn’t seem to have blunted her determination to do things her way, nor to subdue her feisty nature. She was behaving like his equal and that was doing dangerous things to his libido. He was used to female subjugation and was finding the lack of it a powerful aphrodisiac. Lust pulsed through him, hot and potent. She was such a contradiction in so many ways. Tough and outspoken—and yet at times he was certain he’d detected a glimpse of frailty beneath her waspish exterior. And didn’t that intrigue him? Make him wonder what had put it there?
He stared out of one of the windows where he could see Orestes tending to the violet blooms of an exotic flower and he thought about the fortnight ahead, realising that this fabricated honeymoon would drag like hell unless he could find something pleasurable to fill the time. And sex with his fiery new bride would certainly while away the hours in the most delicious way.
She hadn’t moved from where she’d been standing and he reached out to touch his fingertip against her mouth, instantly feeling it tremble. He could see her throat constricting and her eyes briefly closing as if she was trying to fight her own desire. And that turned him on even more, because he wasn’t used to women fighting their attraction to him. ‘You still want me, Tamsyn,’ he observed thickly. ‘And it’s the same for me. I want you so much that I’m aching just thinking about it.’
He could see the uncertainty flickering in the depths of her green eyes. ‘Nobody’s denying the desire, Xan. Doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything about it though.’
‘Why not?’