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‘So.’ Alex walked to an elegant chair patterned in striped silk and sat down, the tumbler of whisky dangling from his fingers, his face angled away from her so she could only see his unmarked side. ‘Tell me your terms.’

‘I don’t actually want to talk about terms. Not yet.’ Carefully Milly crossed to the sofa perpendicular to him and sat down. ‘I just want to talk.’

Alex lifted the glass of whisky to his lips and took a long swallow. ‘Talk?’ he repeated tonelessly. ‘About what?’

‘About each other. I want to get to know you, Alex, if just a little, and have you get to know me. I... I don’t want to marry a stranger. Even business deals can be amicable.’ She pleated her fingers in her lap, her heart jumping around in her chest. ‘Can we do that?’

* * *

Alex took another sip of whisky as he considered Milly’s question

. Could she get to know him? Could he get to know her? It all sounded so innocuous, so sweetly innocent, and yet...

He was darkness inside, and if she saw that...if she felt it...she might change her mind. She almost certainly would. Never mind the scars on his face, there were worse things for her to discover, things he was able to hide. Yet refusing might make her reconsider. He had to walk a very fine line between friendliness and honesty, darkness and light.

‘All right.’ Alex forced a smile to his lips, and felt the familiar tug of his scar on the corner of his mouth. ‘Let’s talk.’

Silence pooled between them, stole the air. Alex waited it out, watching Milly as she struggled with what to say, where to look.

‘Where did you grow up?’ she asked at last.

‘Here in Athens. Next?’

Her lips twitched, her eyes flashing with annoyance at his abrupt manner, but the truth was he didn’t know how else to be. He’d long ago lost the ability to make small talk, if he’d ever had it. He’d learned to watch himself from an early age, and since the fire he’d become even more private and remote. He could not imagine changing. He had neither the desire nor the ability.

‘Do you have any brothers and sisters?’ Milly asked.

He clocked the present tense and answered it accordingly, already feeling far too raw, exposed by these seemingly innocent questions. ‘Just the stepbrother, Ezio, from whom I’m trying to save the business.’

‘You were close to your stepfather?’ Milly recalled, and everything in Alex tightened. Already this was too difficult. Too much. His fingers clenched on his glass, knuckles aching.

‘Yes. Now let me ask you some questions.’

‘All right.’ She settled herself back against the sofa, her slender hands resting on her knees. She looked lovely in the simple wrap dress, the burgundy colour picking up the dark honey strands in her hair, the gold glints in her eyes. Alex’s gaze took in the simple tie at the waist that held the dress together and he imagined giving it one firm tug and seeing it come undone.

Heat flared inside him, dangerous and alarming. How could he desire her with such fierce need? He’d picked Milly James as a prospective wife because she was convenient, not beautiful. And she wasn’t beautiful, in the conventional sense. If anything, she was exceedingly plain, with her brown eyes and hair, her slight figure. And yet right now he wanted her more than he’d ever expected—not just as a wife, but as a woman. That was unfortunate, because he doubted very much that she wanted him in the same way.

‘Where did you grow up?’ he asked, shifting to ease the ache that had started in his groin.

‘All over. London, Paris, Buenos Aires for a bit.’ She gave a small shrug. ‘A few other places.’

‘That sounds rather exotic.’

‘If you like.’

She sounded guarded, which made him curious. ‘Is there a particular place you’d call home?’

‘Your villa on Naxos,’ she replied, surprising him. ‘It’s an oasis of peace compared to some of the other places I’ve lived.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘Yes.’ She glanced away, something in her shuttering. It seemed she had secrets as well, or perhaps just pain. He felt a flicker of empathy, the last thing he’d expected to feel.

‘And your stepsister?’ he asked after a moment. ‘Where does she live?’

‘Rome.’

‘Not too far, then. Do you see her often?’ As far as he was aware, she hadn’t taken off any time since being in his employ.

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