The Andreou Marriage Arrangement (6 page)

A DJ set discs spinning at one end of the ballroom and provided a mix of music. A time of the evening when some
of the older guests began to leave, and the younger set filled the adjoining floor-space.

‘Shall we?'

Dance? With him?

She had, on a few occasions in the past. Way past, when her life had been uncomplicated and she'd viewed the future as a journey of discovery.

Following her separation from Seth, the only male she'd chosen to dance with had been her father…occasions when she'd felt protected,
safe
.

Loukas and
safe
didn't equate.

In the name of heaven,
get a grip
. She was in a room filled with people, and she was being too ridiculous for words.

‘Sure, why not?' she managed simply.

Except being held by him was far from simple. Even in killer heels she was conscious of his height, his restrained strength and his sexual energy.

One hand lingered at the base of her spine, and she barely controlled a faint shivery sensation as his thumb brushed a gentle pattern over the delicate bones.

If he sought to soothe, the caress had the opposite effect, and she dug her lacquered nails into his hand in a silent plea to desist.

A fruitless exercise as he drew her close, splaying the hand at her spine to hold her there.

Worse, the DJ selected a slow, seductive number and the lights dimmed low, providing a level of intimacy that made her want to pull away from him.

She tried, without success, and everything within her coalesced and became one highly sensitized ache. It made her want something she'd thought she once held in her grasp…only to be cheated as her emotional dreams were smashed into a thousand pieces.

Please
, she silently begged. I can't do this.

I want my life back…the one I carefully rebuilt for myself. No emotional ties, no room for disappointment and heartache.

‘I think we've managed a sufficiently convincing display,' Alesha offered evenly, and wondered if Loukas had any idea of the effort it had cost her not to tear herself away from him.

‘You've had enough?'

Enough of
what
? Being held intimately close to him? Playing pretend? Why not go for broke and include
both
, with emphasis on the former?

He sounded mildly amused, and she deliberately stood on his foot.

‘I'm so sorry,' she said sweetly.

‘No, you're not.' He eased her to the edge of the dance floor, then began leading the way to their table.

The ‘goodnight' thing took a while, and it was a relief to leave the ballroom and descend the stairs to the hotel foyer.

The concierge summoned their car, and within minutes the Aston Martin appeared in the forecourt.

Alesha slid into the passenger seat, fastened the seat belt, then she eased her head against the cushioned rest and closed her eyes.

Home, bed. And, mercifully, a restful sleep.

Except home was no longer her apartment, and it was late, which meant Loukas probably was unlikely to run an electronic check of the world markets before heading for bed.

‘Headache?'

Her eyelids lifted and she turned towards him. It would be so easy to say
yes
, and she almost did. Except honesty had her shaking her head.

The night cast the car's interior with a shadowy light, throwing his profile into stark angles.

He was something else. Sophisticated, powerful…yet beneath that persona lurked a man she found difficult to fathom. Content, apparently, to enter a loveless marriage and sire progeny sans emotional involvement.

What was it with that?

She knew all the issues. Hadn't she agreed to them? Although
agree
didn't enter the equation. Choice had weighed heavily against her.

A situation that pushed her to the edge and kept her there.

‘You handled the evening well.'

His silky drawl curled round her nerve-ends and pulled them to breaking point.

‘While you excelled.'

‘A compliment?'

She looked at him carefully. ‘Of course. What else?'

‘I doubt your foot's deliberate aim was accidental.'

‘Really?' Alesha managed sweetly.

Loukas smiled. She was a refreshing change from the women who formed part of his business and social entourage. Women who knew how to please and were forthcoming in offering to share his bed.

Easy pickings, he reflected without shame. Aware few, if any, had any thought beyond the advantages of his wealth, the gifts, the travel, the media attention his presence gained.

It was after midnight when he garaged the car and reset the security system.

Alesha made for the staircase, reaching their suite ahead of him, and she slipped off her heels, removed her ear-studs and reached for the clasp holding her pendant in place.

Stiff, it still refused to release, and she muttered an unladylike oath beneath her breath.

‘Let me.'

She hadn't heard him enter the room, and she held her breath as his fingers brushed her nape. Within seconds he freed the recalcitrant clasp and dropped the pendant into her palm.

‘Thanks.'

His eyes were dark, slumbrous, as he laid a finger beneath her chin and tilted it. ‘So…thank me.'

The wayward pulse at the base of her throat began its rapid thudding beat, and her eyes flared as he lowered his head down to hers.

‘Don't—'

Whatever else she meant to utter didn't find voice as his mouth took hers in a kiss that grazed her lips with sensual promise, warm, caressing with deliberate intent as he sought her response.

One hand shifted to cup her nape while the other slid to the base of her spine and he drew her in against him.

Awareness flared as he deepened the kiss, his tongue an erotic force that sent the blood sizzling through her veins, flooding her inner core with a piercing sweetness until she became lost…wanting,
needing
on some subliminal level to superimpose a different image from the cruel taunts she'd received beneath Seth's hands.

It would be so easy to close her eyes and let whatever happen…
happen
.

She felt him reach for the zip fastening on her gown, sensed the slow slide as the silk slithered down her body. All she wore was a satin thong brief, and the breath hitched in her throat as he cupped her breasts and began exploring their contours, stroking each tender peak until she became powerless against the pleasurable sigh emerging from her lips.

His mouth possessed her own…persuasive, evocative, as his hand shaped her waist, then slid low to seek her swollen clitoris.

Unbidden, she arched against him, unaware of the sensual sound she made as he skilfully brought her to climax, held her there, then he probed her silken heat in readiness for his possession.

It was the intrusion that brought her to a shuddering halt, and she froze, catapulted into a stark reality where past and present images merged and became one.

Panic born from fear lent her strength as she wrenched her mouth from his own, before she railed her fists against his shoulders in a bid to be free of him.

The air in her lungs escaped in tortuous gasps as he released her, and she could only look at him in shocked dismay.

Her lips parted, but no sound emerged, and she hugged her arms together, emotionally bereft and unable to control the way her body began to shake.

Dear God.
She wanted to run and hide, except escape wasn't the answer.
Hell
…what could she say?

Any explanation would take her to a place she didn't want to go. Yet how could she not?

Her eyes widened as Loukas lifted a hand, and she instinctively took a protective backward step…a reaction that brought his narrowed gaze.

He caught the stark fear evident before she successfully masked it, and he fought against a silent rage as he reached for his discarded jacket and placed it carefully round her shoulders.

‘I'm sorry.' Her voice was little more than a whisper as she instinctively caught the edges and hugged them close, barely registering the jacket was way too large on her slender frame.

Not nearly as regretful as he felt, Loukas perceived. For more reasons than the one she presumably referred to. The ache in his groin would subside…eventually. Her issue with intimacy was something else.

It placed a different emphasis on her previous short marriage, and he silently damned the man who'd clearly mistreated her.

‘I should have—' she began, only to have him place a gentle finger over her lips to still anything further she might have uttered.
Warned you
, she finished silently, stricken with a host of ambivalent emotions, the overriding one being a mix of guilt and shame.

‘Don't,' he said quietly.

She wanted to escape into the en suite, don nightwear, then slip beneath the bedcovers and summon sleep. Except her feet refused to obey the command of her brain.

‘I'll go sleep in another room,' Alesha offered, and felt the light brush of his fingers over her lips.

‘No.'

How much would it take to lie in a bed barely a few metres from his own, and not be vividly aware of how close she'd come to the sexual act?

To recall in intimate detail the touch of his mouth on her own, the trail of his hands, and how he'd aroused her emotions to fever pitch.

Until she'd freaked out.

Oh, dear God.

How could she have come so
close
…only to freeze like a frightened virgin?

She almost wished he'd overridden her physical protest and consummated the marriage. Then she'd have got past the dread, the fear…
hell
, the stark memory of that last night beneath Seth's vicious hands.

At the very least, she owed Loukas an explanation…

Oh, please, she derided silently. Like he wouldn't already have reached the right conclusion?

Hadn't she consulted therapists and talked the talk until she knew every angle? Every possible scenario?

She'd thought she'd conquered her fear of intimacy after Seth…but then she'd never tested it. Preferring to lead a celibate life, and refusing to date.

Tonight was the closest she'd allowed any man to come…and look how that had ended? Disaster
plus
.

Even thinking about it filled her with shame…and guilt.

Move forward.

Sure
, like that would happen any time soon given her reaction just now?

She shivered beneath the warmth of his jacket, and she lifted one hand, then dropped it back to her side with an awkward gesture. ‘I need to—' Escape. Move away from him and the almost electric tension filling the room before—
what
? She said something foolish? Trite?

Go
, a silent voice bade. And she did, heading into her en suite without a backward glance.

She took care to close the door carefully, then she removed the jacket and laid it over a chair before crossing to the vanity.

Studiously avoiding the mirror, she removed her make-up, brushed her teeth a little too vigorously, then she pulled on sleepwear, took a deep calming breath…and re-entered the bedroom.

And found it empty.

There was a sense of relief as she crossed to the bed she'd occupied the previous night, and she slid between the sheets, dimmed the lights, then closed her eyes.

To sleep, hopefully.

Except images filled her head, past and present, merging into a scrambled mix that entered her subconscious with tortured clarity, rendering her helpless as the mental reel spun out.

L
OUKAS
dragged a hand through his damp hair and reached for a towel.

A shower had eased some of the muscular tension, but not the slow-burning anger existent, for there was a part of him that wanted to physically harm the man whose mistreatment had seeded fear in the woman he'd married.

There was a word for it. And legal redress.

The question was whether Alesha had pressed charges.

Possibly not, in a bid to avoid publicity.

His eyes narrowed as he pulled on boxers…nightwear he rarely donned. The women he'd bedded were comfortable with their nudity, as well as his own.

What in hell had Alesha's ex done to turn a confident outgoing young woman into someone who had serious issues with intimacy?

Rape…physical abuse?
Both?

His hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of her being subjected to either.

And paused momentarily to wonder why it affected him to this degree.

Had Dimitri known of his daughter's mistreatment?

Subdued lighting greeted him as he re-entered the bed
room, and his gaze swept to the slender form beneath the covers of the bed adjacent his own.

Was she asleep…or merely contriving to give that impression?

Loukas slid between the covers of his own bed, closed the lights, then lay quietly as he reflected on his every move since their arrival home from the fundraiser.

She had kissed like an angel…and he was willing to swear her reaction to his touch had been genuine.

Until she had panicked and fought against him with a desperation born of fear. Hardly the action of someone who'd sought counselling and emerged whole.

It was a while before he slept, and he came sharply awake at a soft beeping sound that had him reaching for the security sensor unit.

The glass door leading onto the terrace was unsecured, and the heat sensor detected a human form occupying a chair.

He moved quietly to his feet, checked the adjoining bed and discovered it empty.

The luminous dial on his watch showed it was several minutes past three.

Alesha? It had to be, and he extracted jeans and pulled them on, then added a tee shirt, before going in search of her.

With sure movements he crossed the gallery and ran lightly downstairs.

Subtle garden illumination provided sufficient light for him to see the slight feminine form curled up on one of four cushioned cane sofas nestled around a glass-topped table.

He made a point of ensuring she heard his approach, and he caught the quick movement of her hands as she brushed each cheek before turning towards him.

Tears?

Somehow the thought of her needing to retreat out here to cry alone touched a place in his heart he'd previously considered beyond reach.

The night air held a faint chill, and he sank down onto the sofa beside her.

‘Unable to sleep?' He kept his voice light, and caught the slight shake of her head.

‘I didn't mean to wake you.'

‘The security sensor,' Loukas corrected. ‘It beeped an alert when you opened the external door.'

His features were shadowed in the half-light, and in the distance the city breathed life with its coloured neon billboards, street-lighting…casting a dappled reflection over the dark inner harbour waters.

In a few hours the indigo sky would begin to lighten as dawn emerged, providing colour and substance to the new day.

‘It's peaceful out here,' Alesha offered, aware her voice was edged with tiredness. Hardly surprising since she hadn't slept at all. Yet she didn't feel inclined to move.

Nor did she particularly want to converse. The silence of the night, the solitude it offered, acted as a soothing balm, and most of all she simply wanted to close her eyes and let it wash over her, cleanse a little and ease the ache deep inside.

There was a psychological process she needed to travel, a series of steps that would lead her from the dark back into the light, and it was better she took them alone. Then she could sleep.

‘Go back to bed,' she said quietly. ‘I'm fine.'

Sure she was.

‘Please.'

It was the
please
that reached him, but he merely looked at her. ‘I'm not going anywhere.'

Okay, so she'd pretend he wasn't there.

Difficult, when his presence acted as a compelling entity impossible to ignore. He radiated innate strength and vitality…a dramatic mesh, even in repose, that made her incredibly aware of him.

Fool
, she denounced in silent self-castigation. Why…
why
did you go into orbit, when you'd mentally conditioned yourself to have sex with him?

Now you've created a wedge…oh, call it as it is…an emotional physical
chasm
so deep and wide, it'll be almost impossible to breach.

There was a part of her that felt inclined to urge him to take her to bed and…just
do
it.

Sure. Like he was going to risk her freaking out again? What man would be willing to risk rejection after being so convincingly repelled?

How could she explain that as much as she'd wanted his possession…somehow at the crucial moment Seth's angry image had superimposed Loukas' own.

‘Did your ex rape you?'

His voice was quiet, steady…yet she flinched from the words, and it took a few long moments to gather herself together.

‘Rape conjures up a picture involving violence.'

Loukas took hold of her hand and threaded his fingers loosely through her own. ‘Sex between consenting adults should be consensual. Not a demand or used as a punishment.'

The shadows helped. His closeness provided security. And he deserved to know some of it. All of it, eventually, but for now some of it would be enough.

‘Seth played a convincing part,' she began quietly. ‘He fooled me, but not my father, who was against the marriage from the start.' She couldn't look at him. ‘It began almost as soon as we were married, with insults at first—about my lack
of spine in demanding a substantial salary package, perks. When I refused to comply, he became…rough.'

Loukas kept his voice even, in spite of the anger building inside him. ‘He hit you.'

‘Yes.'

‘More?'

‘Some,' she admitted, and heard the breath hiss between his teeth.

That any man could hurt her…dammit,
harm
her physically and emotionally enraged him. Yet if he showed any sign of it, she'd retreat even further behind the barrier she'd erected in self-protection.

She needed time to trust him, and he could give her that…even if it killed him to do so.

Meanwhile, it wouldn't be difficult to discover the date of her first marriage, and uncover any hospital records…if any of her injuries had required hospital attention.

It became a matter of importance he discover as much as he could about what had transpired during her brief marriage. Better that, than push her for details she was reluctant to share.

For how else could he help resolve her issue with intimacy without all of the facts?

‘If it's okay with you,' Alesha managed quietly, ‘I'd prefer not to go into it any more tonight.'

This morning, he amended.

So where did they go from here?

With extreme care on his part.

The immediate agenda had to be a return to bed.

Soon the sky would begin to lighten, the birdlife stir and twitter with sound, and car engines would herald workers begin their trek to commence an early shift.

Dawn's break would bring men and women out for their early morning run, and the day would begin.

Sunday indicated recreation and relaxation for some. The beach, time spent cruising the inner harbour waters, following cultural pursuits, entertaining guests, sporting activities.

Maybe she'd give Lacey a call and suggest they share part of the day together. Shop a little, linger over a latte at one of their favoured cafés.

There was pleasure in the thought, and a sense of encroaching drowsiness…something she fought, unaware of Loukas' thoughtful gaze as her eyelids slowly drifted down.

For several long minutes he viewed her softened features, noted her even breathing, then he rose quietly to his feet and carefully lifted her into his arms.

She didn't stir, and he carried her easily into the house, reset security, then he took her upstairs to their room.

He breathed in the clean smell of her hair combined with the soft drift of her perfume, and tamped down the stirring of desire.

Feelings he hadn't expected to experience, born from an emotion he consciously chose not to explore.

The covers were thrown back on the bed Alesha had occupied, and she uttered a faint protest as he relinquished his hold.

With easy economical movements he shed his jeans, tee shirt, snapped off the bed-lamp and slid into bed beside her.

With extreme care he enfolded her slender body close in against him, felt her stir, and he soothed a hand over her hair…again and again, until a soft sigh emerged from her throat and she relaxed against him in sleep, her cheek resting into the curve of his shoulder.

He could offer her safety, and hold her through the night. Be there for her, and help soothe her fears.

 

Of the many social functions Alesha had attended in the past, tonight's fundraiser took precedence, and was one in which she maintained a personal interest.

Children who'd suffered abuse at the hands of those who professed to love them. Adults, whose trust they deserved, yet failed to receive. The varying shades of grey to the deepest black, covering circumstances too grim for the average person to comprehend.

Tonight a few children's plight would be highlighted in order to touch the guests' hearts and persuade them to give generously.

Alesha chose a black bandage-design gown that hugged her slender curves and showcased delicate-textured skin. She confined jewellery to a slender gold necklace with matching ear-studs and bracelet, and black killer heels completed the outfit.

Minimum make-up, with emphasis on her eyes, she opted to leave her hair loose in a soft feminine style.

The event drew a pleasing number of guests, and she stood at Loukas' side sipping champagne, acutely aware of his close proximity.

He portrayed the man he was…sophisticated, urbane, highly intelligent, successful. And he wore the verbal labels with ease, comfortable in his own skin with little, if anything, to prove.

And he was hers.

Well, not in the truest sense…yet. She bore his name, wore his ring, and she…liked him.

Admit it, you find him stunningly attractive. Sexy…incredibly sexy, she amended. And there was a part of her that craved the intimacy she instinctively rejected.

So why did she feel as if she were treading eggshells,
aware she consciously watched everything she said, every action, in case it was misconstrued.

At work, home, and on social occasions such as this when she played the part of recently married
happy
wife.

A young woman who, by all accounts, should be ecstatic to be bedding one of the most eligible men on planet earth.

‘Penny for them?'

She tilted her head and gifted him a teasing smile. ‘Not for sharing, at any price.'

Loukas' mouth curved a little, and the hand resting at the base of her spine brushed a light trail up her back to linger at the lower edge of her nape.

Sensation spiralled through her body, and it took conscious effort to hold his dark gaze.

Dear heaven, she was almost flirting with him…for real. Not the best idea, given the tenuous quality of their relationship.

Yet it was fun, almost
safe
. Although was it? If you played with fire, you tended to get burnt.

So chill, and don't risk conflagration.

Their table was well placed, the company stimulating, and the food delectable.

The speeches held a poignancy that speared her heart, and her eyes clouded…for she could envisage so much more than the mere words conveyed. At one point her fingers tightened into a fist, and her lacquered nails dug into her palm. No one should be a victim of abuse…dear heaven, especially never a child.

Almost as if he sensed her torment, Loukas placed his hand over hers until she released her grip. His silent presence and strength comforted her and she gave him a tentative smile and returned his hold on her hand, suddenly glad he was there with her this evening.

The entertainment for the night comprised a designer
fashion showing, with elegant models parading the catwalk, followed by an auction of the garments with a generous percentage gifted to the charity.

It lightened the evening, with the auctioneer really getting into the swing of it, encouraging bidders to raise the stakes.

One gown caught Alesha's interest, a deep red silk with spaghetti straps attached to a beautiful ruched bodice and a soft floor-length tiered skirt.

Loukas indicated his bid, and escalated it by increments until it reached an exorbitant amount and the one remaining bidder pulled out.

Alesha leaned towards him and said in a subdued but scandalized voice, ‘Are you crazy?'

‘It's a worthy cause.' His voice held a teasing indolence as he brushed his lips to her temple. ‘And the gown is perfect for you.'

Oh, my. For an instant the room and everyone in it faded into nothing as his eyes locked with her own, and something violently sweet coursed through her body.

His mouth curved into an easy smile, almost as if he knew.

‘Thanks.' On impulse she pressed her lips to his cheek…at least that was her intention, except he moved and her mouth met his own, and a light kiss became something else as he savoured her briefly before lifting his head.

Colour filled her cheeks, and he trailed light fingers over the soft heat, then skimmed over one shoulder to rest at the edge of her waist.

‘Dear Alesha,' a light feminine voice intruded. ‘So nice to see you happy in your new marriage.'