“You will show me the proper respect in front of people or—”
“Or what?”
His eyes narrowed. “Try me and find out.”
A shudder went through her but she kept her gaze steadily on his until he finally let go of her, turned away and began reading through the papers spread in front of him again.
Ivy drew a deep, almost painful breath.
She would get through this. She’d survived worse. Far worse. Things that had happened long ago, that she wanted to forget but couldn’t…
That had made her strong.
The mighty prince didn’t know it, but he would learn just how strong she was.
When they were
airborne, the steward, brave man, appeared with both juice and water as well as a stack of current magazines. Ivy thanked him, leafed through one and then another, blind to the glossy pages, thinking only about what lay ahead.
And about what Damian had said last night.
She’d refused to dwell on it then but now, after this display of power, his words haunted her.
From now on, he’d said, I own you.
She thought—she really thought he might believe it. That he had bought her. That she would go to his bed. That she would do whatever he commanded, become the perfect sex slave.
Let him kiss her breasts, as he had so shockingly done yesterday.
Let him undress her. Stand her, naked, before him.
Let him take her in his arms, gather her tightly against him while his aroused flesh pulsed against her.
Let him do all the things men did to women, things men wanted and women surely despised…except, she hadn’t despised what Damian did last night.
When he’d touched her. Held her. Kissed her. Parted her lips with his…
Tasted her, let her taste him.
Ivy turned blindly to the window.
The baby. She had to think about the baby. That was all that mattered.
It grew dark outside the plane.
The cabin lights dimmed.
She yawned. Yawned again. Tumbled into darkness…And shot awake to see Damian leaning over her.
“What—what are you doing?”
His mouth twitched. She’d seen that little movement of his lips enough to know he was trying not to smile.
“Did you think I was going to ravish you while you slept?” This time, the smile he’d repressed broke through. “I’m not a fool, glyka mou. When I make love to you, I want you fully awake in my arms.”
She was too tired to think of a clever response. Or maybe he was too close, his fallen angel’s face an inch from hers.
“I was going to adjust your seat,” he said softly. “So that you could lie back while you were sleeping.”