‘Time was short and I’d already had enough trouble persuading your gaolers to let me see you, let alone permit a wedding on the premises.’
Her head swam and she shut her eyes. She’d walked into a nightmare. If only she hadn’t given in to the compulsion to see him again, the man she’d believed for years had given his life to save hers.
‘It was a real marriage or nothing,’ he continued, his voice like rough velvet against her abraded nerves. ‘As you very well knew.’
Her eyes snapped open. They were back to that again. He was a man of such persistent suspicion. For a fleeting moment Tessa wondered what had made him so distrustful.
‘I knew none of this. Nothing at all until just now.’
She watched the shimmer of disbelief glaze his eyes and his jaw harden impatiently. There was no way she’d ever convince him. He was determined to believe she’d somehow deliberately trapped him into marriage.
If the idea weren’t so fantastic, and so appalling, she’d be laughing her head off. Her snaring some uppity billionaire with an ego the size of South America! As if!
‘Why didn’t you say something at the time?’
‘What?’ He shook his head. ‘You wished me to apologise within earshot of the celebrant and the prison guards that our hasty plans had changed? That we’d have to make do with a real wedding and worry about dissolving the marriage later? You really think they’d have let us proceed?’ His dark brows arched in mock-surprise.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the spinning sensation that accelerated when she met his glare. If she could just sit here alone. Get her breath. In time she’d work something out. She was a survivor. She had years of practice keeping herself alive. A furious Greek tycoon with an ego problem and a marriage certificate were nothing after what she’d been through. Right?
Tessa clenched her fists, trying to dredge up some energy to deal with this situation. But she was exhausted.
‘Here, drink this!’
She opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, filling her vision with his wide shoulders and massive chest. His accusing eyes.
A skitter of sensation scudded down her spine. Trepidation? Anger?
Or something else?
‘No, thank you. I don’t need—’ she spluttered as he pressed a small glass against her lips and a rocket of aniseed fire blasted into her mouth and down her throat.
Her eyes streamed and she gagged.
‘And again.’ His fingers fastened around her chin, tilting it up towards the glass. His hand was warm and easily encompassed her jaw. Against the tempered strength of his hold she felt appallingly vulnerable. Her pulse raced beneath his touch.
She blinked and met his gaze. It was implacable, as relentless as the large hand holding her steady while he tipped another mouthful of liquid between her lips. Heat scorched all the way down to her belly and she shuddered.
‘No more.’ Her voice was a hoarse gasp. ‘What is that stuff?’
‘Ouzo. Fierce but effective. It’s an acquired taste.’
Tessa wondered who’d be desperate enough to acquire it. But he was right. She wasn’t numb any more. Delicious warmth spread through her veins and her stiff muscles relaxed. A strange lassitude invaded her body.
Abruptly he moved away and she almost sighed in relief. She couldn’t think when he loomed like that, vibrating dark impatience and animosity.
‘Here.’ His voice was rough as he pushed a plate into her hand. It was laden with food. She hadn’t even noticed anyone come to the door with a tray.
Could that be caviar on the tiny buttered squares of bread? And there were shrimps, savoury pastries, a whole range of delicacies. She swallowed as her salivary glands kicked into gear.
‘Eat.’ His tone was brusque as he turned away, his stiff back and rigid shoulders eloquent of dismissal.
‘I have things to do, but I’m sure you’ll make yourself at home in my absence.’ No mistaking his sarcasm. ‘Just don’t think about leaving this room. There will be a guard stationed right outside.’ His voice was silky with threat and she shivered, guessing he’d like nothing more than to ‘deal’ with her if she disobeyed him. His anger was so fiercely controlled she imagined he’d welcome an excuse to unleash it.
He didn’t even glance at her as he left. The door closed with a decisive click and Tessa slumped bonelessly into the sofa cushions.
Where did he think she’d go? Did he think she’d prowl through his home? All she wanted was to collect her pack with her passport and the last of her cash, and leave.
But what was the point? They needed to sort out a way to dissolve the marriage—she and Stavros Denakis.