Constantine's Defiant Mistress

‘Nothing is wrong,’ he said coolly. ‘Why don’t you sit down?’

He indicated the long window seat, which was scattered with squashy embroidered cushions, and Laura sank down onto it, wondering why he was talking to her in that strange tone. And why he hadn’t kissed her. ‘Why are you acting like this?’ she asked, bewildered.

‘I’m not acting like anything,’ he ground out. ‘I’m just wondering why you ran back to your room without saying goodnight to any of our guests?’

‘Because they weren’t my guests, they were yours!’ she returned. ‘They weren’t here to see me, but you—and your father—and your son. I only had curiosity value as the woman who had given birth to him. Once they had seen me, I was superfluous to requirements.’

‘Not to some of the male guests, you weren’t!’ he snarled. ‘They could hardly stop undressing you with their eyes!’

‘Well, you have only yourself to blame for that, Constantine,’ she hissed back. ‘Since you’re the one who bought me the dress!’

‘And I don’t know why I did!’

‘Oh, yes, you do,’ she contradicted hotly. ‘Because I just wasn’t good enough, looking the way I normally look. You were afraid that I’d show you up!’

‘I didn’t want you to feel awkward.’

‘You don’t think I felt awkward with half a million pounds worth of diamonds strung around my neck?’ She glanced over at the leather box. ‘And can you please take them away with you? Just having them in the room makes me nervous.’

‘Laura, why are you being like this?’ he exploded.

Why, indeed? Because he made her feel cheap? As if the real Laura could only be tolerated if she was dressed up to look like someone else? Because he would never love her as she wanted to be loved? She raked her loose hair away from her face and looked at him in the bright moonlight which flooded in from the unshuttered windows.

‘Being like what? You’re the one who’s burst in here with a face like ice!’ she returned. ‘So have you come here for something specific? Because I’m tired and I’d like to get to sleep.’

His eyes narrowed—it was the first time she had not melted automatically into his arms, eager for the closeness of his body.

‘Yes, I came here for something specific,’ he said, and his mouth hardened as he bit the words out. ‘To ask you once again to marry me.’

It was ironic, thought Laura fleetingly, how something which you had only ever pictured in your wildest dreams should dissolve when it happened in real life. This was different from the last time he’d asked her—when they’d barely known each other. Because now they did. Now they were lovers who had shared time with one another—so that him asking her to marry him could be given proper consideration.

A proposal of marriage from the man she loved—supposedly the one thing her aching heart longed for. And yet it had been delivered with all the warmth of a giant chunk of ice floating in an Arctic sea.

She drew in a deep breath. ‘Presumably to legitimise your son?’

He looked at her. Hadn’t they been through too much for him to dress up the truth with niceties? He shrugged. ‘Of course.’

Laura could have wept—or hurled the nearest object at his hard-hearted head. But since that happened to be the diamond set she didn’t dare risk it.

He sensed her displeasure. ‘Of course there would be more to our marriage than that.’

‘There would?’ she questioned hopefully.

He nodded. ‘We have shown that we can live compatibly, ne?’ His voice softened into a tone of pure silk. ‘And in bed—or out of it—we are pure dynamite together, agape mou. You know that.’

Yes, she knew that—but wasn’t that the most frightening thing of all? To have physical chemistry up there as one of the main reasons for being together. Because didn’t everyone say that it faded in time? And then what would they be left with? A cold shell of a marriage. Already she could imagine the reality of such a marriage, and an icy chill made her begin to shiver, despite the heavy warmth of the night.

‘No,’ she said.

‘No?’ His voice was incredulous, and he took a step forward. ‘How can you say no when you know that it is what Alex would want,’ he said, his voice dangerously soft. ‘What Alex wants.’

Her fingers flew to her throat and she stared at him in fear. ‘Have you asked him? Gone behind my back to get him to side with you?’ she demanded hoarsely.

His mouth twisted. ‘You think me capable of such an act, Laura? No, I have not—but you know that what I say is true. The boy loves it here—you have only to look at him to see how much he has blossomed since he arrived.’

Guilt shafted through her heart. Hadn’t she thought the very same herself—and had he guessed that? ‘But that’s…blackmail,’ she whispered.

No. It was fighting for what was truly his—something which he had discovered meant more to him than all his properties and ships and the international acclaim he enjoyed. His son meant far more to him than the continuation of a bloodline…young Alex had crept into his heart and found a permanent home there. Was Laura prepared to ride roughshod over their son’s wishes purely for her own ends?