The King's Captive Virgin

‘You really do want it all from me, don’t you?’ She was horrified. ‘I might not have had boyfriends, but I’ve had other relationships—real friendships. With patients, with friends at work. I care about people.’

‘And I don’t?’

‘You devote your life to your people, to your duty. But, no, you don’t care about anyone. I pity you.’

‘You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I’m not one of your patients with

some piece missing.’

‘There’s a big piece missing. In your chest.’

He laughed mirthlessly. ‘So now I’m heartless as well?’

‘Yes.’ Because if he had any kind of heart—any kind of conscience—he wouldn’t be asking this of her. He would understand why this was so abhorrent.

‘Is it so awful to want to protect you? To care for you?’ He cupped her cheek with tenderness, despite the frustration in his voice. ‘The secrecy I’m proposing is because I care about you.’

How dared he make it seem that he was offering this for her?

‘But you don’t want to care about me—that’s the point.’ Her anger lit. ‘This isn’t about me at all. This is about you controlling everything in your life.’

‘I can’t control this,’ he growled.

She closed her eyes. ‘I refuse to be my mother. I’m not settling.’ She couldn’t wait for a man who was never going to give her what she needed. ‘We don’t want the same things. We don’t feel the same things.’

‘What is it you feel? Desire? For the first time in your life? And you’re going to go and feel it with the rest of the world now? No man can give you what I can give you.’

‘But I don’t want the little you’re willing to give me.’

‘Not this?’ He hauled her close against his furiously hard body. ‘You’re going to lie to my face and tell me you don’t want this?’

Oh, she wanted it. She wanted it almost more than she wanted to breathe. But she would slowly suffocate and starve, because it wasn’t enough to sustain her. She’d become bitter and lonely and poisoned by disappointment and emptiness. She’d become sick. Just as her mother had.

‘Stop, Giorgos,’ she breathed, begging him for reprieve.

He too was breathing hard. In his eyes she saw it—intention. She knew what he longed to do, the way he would touch her. The way she would touch him back. One blink, one word, and it would happen. She couldn’t let it happen.

And he saw.

He blinked something away and stepped back, but not before a parting trail of feather-light fingers down her arms. Torturous...uniquely devious. And then his hands dropped. The farther he stepped away, the more she wanted him to come back.

‘This is what you want?’ His disbelief was audible. ‘To go back to feeling nothing?’

She stayed silent because she couldn’t lie.

Never could she accept the little he was offering. He didn’t even understand just how little it was. Their affair hadn’t helped her embrace her sensuality—it had served only to form an addiction that worsened every time he came near.

‘I only want to protect you,’ he said.

‘That’s a lie.’ She lashed out. ‘This is about protecting yourself.’

‘You know I don’t want you to suffer the way—’

‘You could change,’ she snapped. ‘You could do things differently. You could raise expectations and the public would go with you. You lead—they follow. But you’re too busy punishing yourself for things that happened long ago. And you don’t want me enough to fight your need to maintain tradition. To fight for me. Not even to try to support me through it. You don’t trust me. And you don’t love me, Giorgos. And, no, I know you never said you would. But unless things change you’ll never love anyone.’

‘And you will?’ His anger rattled. ‘You think you’ve got it together more than I do? You’ve shut yourself off from finding any chance of love. You won’t even go out on a date.’

‘You’re right—I won’t. But now I know I need to change. And I need to change this—right here. If I’m too busy with you I can never have the chance to meet someone else. To meet the man who is right for me. Because it’s not you, Giorgos. It’ll never be you.’

She dragged in painful breaths and kept pushing.

‘And that wasn’t a challenge to your arrogant ego—that’s just the truth. Because you were right—this wasn’t just sex for me. I could have loved you. But you won’t let yourself be loved. Not by me, or your sister, or anyone. You’re not protective—you’re arrogant and superior. You don’t think anyone can handle things the way you can. But you handle nothing of true value. You use your guilt to hide from having an actual life, with real relationships. You have so much more to offer your people. So much more to give of yourself if you’d only set yourself free... But you’re too much of a control freak and you’re a coward. The truth is you have no intention of loving anyone—least of all yourself.’

She broke off, staring at him. She’d gone too far. He was deathly pale, but the wildness in his eyes burned. His breathing was loud and ragged. Slowly the ice returned to his expression. And slowly, with excoriating pain, she realised he wasn’t going to argue with her. He wasn’t going to fight. This had to be over. She had to leave. Now.

‘I’m going,’ she muttered, with as much dignity as she could muster, and walked out of the room.

He didn’t answer. Certainly didn’t follow her.

She showered and dressed again, in plain jeans and a tee, only to discover when she emerged from her suite that he’d left for his appointment early. Of course he had.

It was almost another two hours before he returned. Two hours in which she’d had time to plan. And pack.

He didn’t come and find her when he returned. She waited for almost half an hour and then ventured to his lair. He was behind his desk, looking as remote as he’d looked that very first day. He watched silently as she approached him.

‘I’d like to return to the city,’ she said quietly.

‘I’ve said I’m sorry,’ he said stiffly.

‘I know you are. But we both know this is over. We got carried away.’ She lifted her chin proudly, but couldn’t look at him directly. ‘I’ve handled all those cameras on me. They’ve got the only story they’re going to get. The interest is only going to die down from here—especially when Eleni and Damon return. I’ll be perfectly safe.’

‘I insist upon security for you.’ He glanced at a sheet of paper on the pile before him. ‘I’ll make the arrangements.’

Kassie walked out of the room. Just a crush. Self-delusion was the only way to maintain sanity through this.

Less than an hour later she locked her hands tightly together in her lap and stared hard at them. She refused to look out of the window as the helicopter flew high, taking her far from him. She refused to cry.

Just a crush. She’d be over it in no time.

CHAPTER NINE

SHE WAS NEVER going to get over it. Three days had passed since she’d left him at the Summer Palace. Three days of no contact. No respite from her bleeding, smashed-up heart. The only way she’d coped was by going to work and pouring everything into her future there. But she could hold it together only so long.

When she returned home it hit all over again. He’d struck where it hurt most, by asking her to be his secret mistress. She’d been terrified of being wanted but not loved—as her mother had been all her life: wanted but left waiting, hoping, believing...and it never happening.

Her father hadn’t given her mother what she’d deserved. Her mother had loved him wholly, unconditionally, giving him all the best of herself and accepting so little in return. And then, when she’d needed him most, he’d spurned her.

All her life Kassie had been so angry with her mother for that weakness. But now she understood just how much courage it took to love someone—how much bravery was required to put yourself on the line. Now she understood how deeply her mother had loved, however misplaced that love and trust had been, and she could take some pride in her ability to be able to love so deeply and so completely. Kassie could do that.

But her mother had refused to believe she could love that way again. Refused to end it with John Gale and try to start again. And there was the mistake Kassie wasn’t going to repeat.

Inadvertent

ly, it was exactly what she had been doing before, by not even trying, not even dating. But if she’d learned how to love once, surely she might again? She had to overcome this heartbreak, choose to live. And eventually choose to love again.

It would take even more courage to risk her heart and try again. But the next guy who asked her out... She was going to say yes.

* * *

Furious, Giorgos stalked the length of the palace and back again. And again. That last argument replayed round and round in his head. His anger didn’t diminish—it just grew.

He’d asked her to be with him in a way he’d never asked another woman to be. But she had pride, didn’t she? So much pride. And she had a career. She had a life.

He could give her a better one.

His arrogance mocked him. So too did the newspapers that littered the desk in his private suite.

‘The physiotherapist’—the press referred to her that way. They’d investigated her, all right—honing in on the shy, natural way she’d talked to those guests at the sculpture unveiling. Then they’d dug out tales of her rapport with her patients—puff pieces that filled the gossip rags. They’d taken the illegitimate half-sister of the Princess’s new husband to their hearts. ‘Kassiani the Caring’ had replaced ‘Eleni the Pure’ on the covers of the magazines.

Why did they insist upon putting the women in his life on damn pedestals for worshipping? Making them out to be more than human while at the same time treating them as less than human—as only two-dimensional.

Yet wasn’t he every bit as guilty of that? Of thinking that neither Eleni nor Kassie could handle all that he thought he had to handle?

He studied a clipping about Kassie talking to the guests at that sculpture unveiling. So natural and poised, able to talk to anyone. She’d chosen not to let herself get physically involved with anyone before, but he’d been the one battling emotional frigidity. Where she was warm and giving he was ice, refusing to open up. And in doing that he had denied her too. When she deserved so much more.