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He still had time. Because just before his darkness extinguished her flame he would let her go.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A WEDDING. A FUNERAL. Christo knew what came next but had been putting off the inevitable. The will had been read, his mother’s hysterics managed and the estate divided. There was no reason to cling to what couldn’t be.

Coward.

He knotted his tie, tightening it like a noose around his neck. As he did so Thea rose from the bed naked and wrapped her body around his, wishing him a good day at work in the best possible way.

He slid his hand into her soft, warm hair. The silken strands held the exotic scent that was all her. He breathed her in. Each morning their ritual was the same. He’d get ready early, in the hope of leaving without seeing her, but something would always draw him back to the bedroom where they now spent every night. She’d ignited a hunger in him that wouldn’t be sated.

Thea tipped her head back and smiled. ‘Will you be home early tonight?’ Her voice was husky, holding the promise of another indulgent evening.

How could he be in the presence of such a woman? This goddess like Aphrodite risen from the ocean? Someone who gave and gave, when all he wanted to do was take?

But he’d made her a promise. One he’d keep.

He had no knowledge of how to love. His parents had seen to that. Obsession? Yes. Sex? For sure. But Thea deserved more. Her youth and her life had been stolen from her by her father, her brother and now him. She deserved to choose a man to love—not be sold to the highest bidder for another’s benefit. To be free from her cage. To have fun and go out, with her own money and resources.

That was what she’d planned and that was what he’d give her. No matter how much the thought squeezed his heart till it almost stopped beating.

He dropped his mouth to hers and claimed it. Her lips were soft and drugging and she sighed, opening to him. His tongue slid in to taste her. Pure nectar. As sweet as honey. Her breathy sigh chased away all common sense as her body taunted and tempted him. He returned the kiss as if it was his last day on earth.

She moaned. ‘Do you have to go to work at all?’

Yes. Today was his most important day. The day when he’d try to be the man Thea deserved.

She’d thank him. Maybe not now, but in the end.

‘I have meetings. Don’t wait up for me tonight.’

One more night with her and he might not do what needed to be done.

He pulled Thea in for a last, lingering kiss. The bright glow of her beauty warmed him. When he let her go that light would be gone. Darkness would take over again. It was what he knew, so he’d welcome it like an old friend. They could reacquaint themselves over a bottle of cognac in a lengthy future of lonely nights together.

He called his driver and left for his first and most important destination of the day.

The ostentation of the Lambros Bank’s headquarters disgusted him. But it was where the story of Christo and Thea would end. When he’d called for a meeting Tito and Demetri had asked him to come here. No doubt they wanted to impress, to instil fear. It wouldn’t work. He feared no one. Especially not these craven men. His only aim was to ensure that by the end of today Thea had everything she deserved.

He strode into the building and punched the lift button for the top floor. Their arrogance was laid out in front of him as the lift doors slid open on the pompous gilt and antiquities adorning the executive suite’s foyer. There he sat in a cold leather chair. Waiting as he knew they’d make him.

He didn’t care. It gave him a few more moments to cherish the gift of Thea. He twisted the wedding ring on his finger, felt the smooth gold warm under his touch. Still shiny and new. Witness to the privilege of being her husband. Of doing this for her.

‘Mr Callas?’ An immaculate blonde woman greeted him with a smiling mouth and unsmiling eyes. ‘They’ll see you now. Sincere apologies for the delay.’

There was nothing sincere about the look on her face. He followed her dismissive gesture through a wooden door into an office of cream marble and garish gold. Tito Lambros sat at a massive desk which looked as if it had been hewn from a solid piece of stone. As cold and hard as the man behind it. Demetri was perched on its front corner like a bird of prey waiting to strike. A large painting hung behind Tito, full of darkness and violence.

Christo raised an eyebrow. ‘Jesus casting out the moneylenders. By El Greco, I believe?’

‘I didn’t know you had an interest in art,’ Tito drawled.

Christo cocked his head, his voice full of menace. ‘I’ve acquired an eye for hidden treasures.’

‘As indeed this was. Locked away for centuries. A private collector found himself in some difficulty, so I helped. Or rather his sale of the painting to me did.’

‘A strange picture for a banker to own...’

‘You think? It’s an attempt to get rid of us, and yet we’re still here. It shows that in the end we always win.’ Tito gave a slow and evil smile. ‘I see it as a telling reminder to those who want to believe otherwise.’

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