Revelations of His Runaway Bride

Heat flared in Christo’s eyes. She wished it was for her, but she knew it was for the hope he’d described. Still, there was more she needed to tell him. The information her father had requested took on more significance now.

‘There’s something else,’ she said. ‘He demanded I get him information about Atlas. Shipping details. Ports of docking and unloading. Names of the captains on each vessel’s journey.’

‘Interesting...’ Christo said.

It was. Most of those details were publicly available. She’d only investigated out of curiosity. Her father didn’t need her to find out anything. A shipping broker could have done the job as easily.

‘And did you give your father the information?’

Christo’s voice was cool, his face impassive. He didn’t trust her, even after what she’d divulged. A pang of hurt scored her insides.

‘Never! That’s why they said Alexis stole money. To ensure my compliance.’ Her voice cracked.

Christo wrapped his arms around her again, drawing her tight to him. ‘Thea. I’m sorry. Raul will find him.’

Unless her father got to Alexis first.

She slumped into Christo, exhaustion washing over her. The night was going to be long, and all she wanted was to stay like this for ever. In Christo’s arms. Where, for once, everything felt natural and right. But there was no ‘for ever’ for them—only now. And if that was all she had she’d take it. Because this wasn’t Christo’s fault—or hers. They were both pawns in a rich man’s game.

And as she nestled into Christo’s chest, soaking up the heat into her frozen heart, she knew. The blackmail... This marriage... It wasn’t about a debt. Her father wanted Christo’s ships.

CHAPTER TEN

HE’D FAILED. NOT on all measures tonight. But on the most important his failure had been acute—because he’d failed Thea.

Christo dropped his head, stared at the floor. A piece of lint was attached to his shoe. He kicked off the polished black leather. Tore at his bow tie and tossed it on the couch. The taint of bile rose in his throat.

His presumptions tonight disgusted him. What had he been thinking? He’d dared Thea to wear that dress. To show everyone the woman he saw each day. Show her magnificence. Show she was a force of nature, alive and powerful in a flash of arterial red.

She’d cut every man off at the knees when she’d walked into the room. His baser parts had brimmed with pride at having her by his side as she’d threaded her arm through his. Yet he’d brought the enemy into his home. Drawn her father and brother to her and hadn’t been there to stop them.

It haunted him. Her standing there, surrounded. Demetri clasping her arm in that brutal grip. Volcanic heat clawed his gut. He flexed his fingers. How dared anyone lay their hands on her? After all she’d confessed, the least she was due was his protection and he couldn’t even give her that properly.

He unbuttoned his shirt. Shrugged it off. Poured a cognac. He’d let another burn, that of the amber liquid, scorch away the guilt.

The celebrations had been a success. He’d done his duty by Atlas. Raul could assess the rest. Demetri and Tito’s arrogance had overcome their good sense. It showed they could be caught out if watched closely enough.

He gulped from the glass, downing the contents in one mouthful. He’d try to sleep—a futile activity since Thea had entered his house. He’d wake to visions of smooth skin and breathless sighs as he immersed himself in a soft, warm body. The dreams were fevered, formless things, but he knew who he was with. Who shared with him the pleasure they unleashed. Thea. Always Thea.

He had no right to her. But the feel of her supple body in his arms tonight, her head on his chest as she melted into him...

Even as he’d been soothing her he’d been craving her. The only one he desired. Of all the women who’d sought him out over the years, he coveted the one who didn’t want him. The relentless hunger of it ached inside him.

You’re married to her.

No! He had to shut out that voice, whispering the impossible. Her trust had been betrayed by too many. He still had some honour left. A thin shred, which frayed a little more every time she came near, but he’d protect it. Try to stitch it up with more resolve than he’d ever shown in the past when he’d seen something he wanted to reach out and take.

She’d leave this marriage untouched. This constant ache was his penance for every selfish deed of his past. He would be better. For her.

A tentative knock sounded at the door. It opened a crack and the soft music of her voice filled the space. ‘I want to thank you.’

His heart plummeted as Thea drifted into the room, still dressed in the glittering gown he’d chosen. The soft lace accentuated her hypnotic curves. His goddess. A dream that couldn’t be. Thea had loaned him her life just for a short while. She wasn’t his to keep.

Yet seductive whispers of Kiss her... filled his head. He shut them down.

‘You’ve nothing to thank me for.’ The words were ground out like broken glass, cutting with each utterance. He did want her thanks. He wanted it all.

‘You stood up for me.’