Hostage to Love (Entangled Suspense) (16 page)

Her gaze raked over him. He wore a pair of white cotton drawstring pants and nothing else. Her heart stopped, then trebled its tempo, her eyes eating up the gorgeous sight of his hair-roughened torso.

Memories of kissing and touching his golden flesh rose in her mind, and she stifled a moan as he drew closer and deposited a tray laden with coffee, croissants, sliced ham, and orange juice on her lap.

“
Kalimera, matia mou
,” he drawled. He fisted his hand in her hair, kissed her on both cheeks before fusing his mouth to hers.

Helpless to resist, she opened her mouth and tasted him, her senses dizzy with joy at the utter chaos he wrought in her. Her unbidden groan of disappointment when he lifted his head after a few moments made him smile. She clenched her hands on the sheet, fighting the urge to clutch the back of his head and continue the kiss. She needed her wits about her if she was to make sense of their situation.

“Good morning, Nick,” she responded instead, her voice hoarse with want.

“You need to eat, so I will resist the urge to crawl back into bed with you.” His voice teased, but his hungry gaze started a trembling in her belly that made her want to shove the tray aside and jump him. She didn’t know whether to cry or sigh with relief when he moved away and sat down on the bed near her feet.

He poured a glass of orange juice and passed it to her, halting when he saw the note clutched in her hand.

“You read my note?” he asked, his gaze direct.

She nodded. When he raised his brow, she looked away, reluctant to face the questions in his eyes. Dropping the note beside her tray, she accepted the glass from him and took a hasty sip.

“What time is it?” She needed something innocuous to fill the heavy silence.

A mocking smile twisted his lips, as if he recognized her delay tactics. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat back. “It’s almost ten o’clock.”

“
Ten!
” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept this late.

He shrugged. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. But now you
are
awake, I think we need to have that talk—unless you want to extend our truce another seven days?”

Biting her lip, she shook her head. “No, I think it’s time we put all our cards on the table, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’ll leave you to have your breakfast and shower. Come and find me in the study when you’re finished. Okay?” Intent eyes glanced at the rings once more before coming back to rest on her. He wasn’t really asking as much as demanding.

Grateful for the brief reprieve, she met his eyes.

“Sure. Give me twenty minutes.”

He nodded and stood. Leaning forward, he delivered another searing kiss and picked up his coffee. She followed the solid lines of his body as he sauntered to the door, and desire flooded her as she recalled the feel of him as he’d pleasured her during the night.

When the door shut behind him, she set her glass down. She stared at the rings she’d worn with such pride when they were first married. Although initially overwhelmed by the size of the diamond, she’d fallen in love with it. And on their wedding day, when the simple platinum band had joined it, she’d felt complete.

The intense pain of her heartbreak when she’d taken it off on the day she’d walked out was still a vivid memory.

Setting the tray aside, she got up.

Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed in white capri pants and a matching tank top, her hair brushed and left loose about her shoulders. A quick lick of gloss over her lips, and she was ready. Standing back from the mirror and examining her image, she noted that the bruises of her ordeal in Africa had faded, leaving her skin an even golden hue. She had more gold in her hair, too, now that it wasn’t being bleached silver by the harsh Nawakan sun.

You’re dithering, Belle
…

She squared her shoulders, picked up the rings and the breakfast tray, and left the room.

Her heeled mules were a welcome change from the mohair slippers. Her footsteps echoed down the tiled hallway as she headed toward Nick’s study after depositing the tray in the kitchen. Demetra and the maids were nowhere in sight, and she recalled that Fridays were shopping days, which meant she was alone in the house with Nick. Yannis and the women would’ve taken off in the launch first thing in the morning and wouldn’t return until mid-afternoon. Demetra liked to go early to the market in the bustling town of Mykonos to get the best produce and the freshest catch of fish.

Belle opened the study door and entered, renewed pleasure coursing through her at the sight of Nick. A dark green shirt now covered his upper half as he leaned against the window and stared out at the view.

“Hi,” she murmured, her heart performing a wild tango when he straightened and came toward her.

“Hi, yourself.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Mmm, you smell delicious,” came the muffled voice buried in her hair.

“That’s my shampoo,” she responded in a stupidly girlish, breathless voice that made her cringe. As usual, his proximity wreaked havoc on her senses.

“No, it’s all you, baby,” he insisted, kissing along her jaw till he reached the corner of her mouth. “And I bet you’ll taste even better here.” Without giving her time to respond, he took her mouth, tilting her head just so for better positioning.

She groaned, lost in the kiss for a long moment, then reluctantly pulled back. “Nick, you’re not being fair. We need to talk, remember?”

He moved against her, reluctant to let her go, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Well, you can’t present me with a delightful offering such as yourself and expect me to hold back.
That’s
not fair. Besides, all’s fair in love and war, as the saying goes.”

She had no protection against the pain his words brought. “But in our case, it’s more all war and no love, isn’t it?”

Like a puff of wind, the easy banter vanished. He froze, and she felt his tension vibrate through her. He dropped his arms and moved away to gaze out the window again. Rigid silence reigned for a long moment before he turned back to her.

“I see you’re not wearing your rings. Care to tell me why?” His tone was empty, devoid of all emotion.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you kept them.”

His jaw clenched. “Well, I did. And I want you to put them back on.”

“Just like that?”

“Why not? Don’t you want to get back together?”

There was no doubt about it, she wanted her husband back, but— “I do, but I’m not sure we have what it takes. Unless—”

“Unless?”

“Unless we deal with a few things. Find a middle ground we can both be satisfied with.”

But she didn’t doubt they had a monumental battle ahead of them. Nick’s need for control was ingrained. In bed and out of it, he liked to be in charge. Convincing him to relinquish some of that control…well, she really didn’t know where to start. But for the sake of her sanity, they had to try.

Her fingers tightened around the bands in her hand. “Just because we slept together doesn’t mean anything’s changed since last night.”

“Oh, I think we did a lot more than
sleep
last night,
glikia mou
.” She couldn’t decipher his expression with the sun behind him, but the hard bite accompanying his words told her she probably shouldn’t take his calling her
his
sweetheart
as a term of endearment.

She stood her ground, determined not to be cowed by the menacing vibes now emanating from him. “Yes, I am fully aware of what we did, Nick. And while the sex was gr—” she faltered as his head reared back and he inhaled sharply.

“
Sex
? You call what happened between us last night just sex?” The note of incredulity in his voice shocked her.

“Well, what would you call it? Lovemaking? How can you call it lovemaking when there was no love involved?” She saw his jaw tense again, but he remained silent, confirming her belief. Pain ripped through her at the chronic absence of that one important word in their relationship, but she ploughed on.

“Anyway, we’re not here to discuss last night. We’re here to discuss this.” She opened her hand to reveal the rings. “And why I took them off in the first place.”

“Yes, Tinkerbelle, let’s discuss exactly why it is you left, shall we?”

She pursed her lips at his use of her full name, even whilst a small part of her unwillingly admitted he’d been right yesterday at the pool when he said she liked it when he called her Tinkerbelle. She was sure the sexy huskiness of his voice, the way he seemed to caress the word, had a lot to do with why she allowed him to call her by her much-loathed name when everyone else was forbidden to use it.

She shook her head to dispel the unwanted thoughts. “You know why I left. Aside from the control issues, I want children. Or at the very least a child.”

He paled, his gray eyes darkening to slate. “I can’t give you a child, Tinkerbelle. I’m not equipped for fatherhood.”

Belle was glad his desk was nearby, because when she swayed, she was grateful for its solid strength. “You
can’t
father a child?” she whispered, stunned.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with the equipment. Not as far as I’m aware, anyway.”

“Then what is it?” she recovered enough to ask.

He was silent for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he sighed. “I’ve never thought of myself as part of a demographic, but to put it simply, my childhood was a hot mess. I can think up a bunch of technical terms a psychologist would use, and they would be right. I can’t bring that baggage into any child’s life. Trust me, you wouldn’t want me to.”

“Why won’t you tell me what happened to you?” she asked softly. “I ask you, and you always shut me down.”

She knew his mother lived in the States, had left him with his father when he was a boy. Beyond that, she knew next to nothing about the woman who’d given Nick life.

His shoved his fists into his pockets, and he rocked on the balls of his feet. “Because I despise talking about it.” Then he sighed, but even though he cast her an exasperated look, she glimpsed the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. This wasn’t a subject her powerful husband was comfortable with. That was very clear. But he’d shut her out for too long. And she’d let him.
No more
.

“Tell me anyway. Please.”

“You want the sordid details? I was used as the ultimate pawn between my parents. And when my mother grew bored of the game, she left, and I was shipped off to boarding school.”

Her heart cracked open with pain for him. “Oh, Nick.”

A mirthless smile crossed his lips. “I’m not telling you this so you feel sorry for me. I’m just telling you that the reality of being an Andreakos is not one I’d wish for any child.”

“What happened to you was horrible, but we can work through it—” She stopped when he started to shake his head.

“No, we can’t. Look at what happened to you. You were targeted for abduction primarily because of your connection to me. Think how vulnerable any child we have would be.”

“We can’t live our lives like that, Nick. That’s an awful way to view life.”

“Unfortunately, we’ve both experienced the atrocities human beings are capable of—me through war and you through being kidnapped.”

“Yet I still want a baby, more than ever, because I refuse to let one traumatic event define my life. And you aren’t your parents, Nick. Even with our marriage issues, I know you would never be like them.”

His eyes darkened into stormy clouds. Lines of stress bracketed his mouth. “Aside from all that, do you have any clue how many times members of my family have been in some sort of extortion or kidnap situation?”

Frowning, she shook her head.

“More times than I care to recount. Marrying me put you in danger. It’s my duty to protect you, and, barely a year into it, I failed.”

There was that word she hated.
Duty
.

“It was also your duty to tell me all of this before we got married, or even afterward, instead of running roughshod over my wishes, or trying to distract me with sex every time I tried to talk to you.”

His eyes gleamed. “You loved the sex, baby. Almost as much as I did.”

Her stomach fluttered. “Not enough to make it worth staying in the end, Nick. Take this seriously, please.”

A hard smile touched his gorgeous face. “Trust me, I am. You want independence, and you want a baby, or we’re over. Is that what you’re saying?”

Her fingers closed around the rings. The cold stone of the diamond cutting into her flesh reminded her of what was at stake. Her soul shook with the depths of the other thing she wanted—for him to tell her he loved her—but that could wait.

“I don’t want to lay down ultimatums, but for my own sanity I can’t agree to be with you until we work through this. I gave up a lot for you when we got married. Things that were—
are
—important to me.”

There’s no need for you to work anymore. Hand in your notice.

Okay, Nick.

Tell your parents you’ll see them next week instead of today. I want you with me at the gala.

Sure, Nick.

Your Ph.D. can wait another year. We don’t have time for that now.

Fine, Nick.

She’d let him walk all over her, trample everything she was under the shadow of his overwhelming personality.
No more
.

“You need to meet me halfway,” she told him firmly.

He swore in Greek. “And if I can’t? You expect me to just let you live your life, forget that you,
my wife
, were kidnapped and held in a goddamned cave with over a dozen men with guns?” His face had hardened into a tortured mask.

Crap, this wasn’t going well
.

“What I’m talking about started long before that happened. You need to see past it—”

“Like hell I do. Oh, and don’t think for a second that I don’t intend to find out exactly what that bastard did to you.” His eyes blazed holy fire.

She swallowed, taken aback, and tried to return to the subject at hand. This might be her only chance to lay all her cards on the table, state the terms of their relationship. She didn’t want to waste it discussing Charles Mwana. Or the possibility that he was still out there, intending to hunt her down. She shivered.