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He stared at her outstretched hand. The white line her rings had left was only recently faded.
His lips narrowed. ‘What’s this game?’
‘No game. Not afraid of a few diamonds, are you?’
Christo grabbed the box, wrenched it open and snatched out the rings. He stalked round to her. ‘They mean nothing,’ he said as he reached for her hand. ‘Not now.’
His fingers shook as he slid the rings onto hers. Once they were in place he snapped back as if he’d been burned. Oh, Christo. So strong. So hard. Denying himself what he truly wanted.
Thea held up her hand and looked at the glistening gems. They appeared to be newly cleaned.
‘That feels better. You didn’t do that before. Put the engagement ring on my finger.’
They were close now. She could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he breathed hard, the throbbing pulse at his throat.
‘There was nothing romantic about our arrangement.’
She smiled and his eyes dropped to her mouth. His lips parted, then closed. He still desired her, but out of some misplaced nobility he believed that what he’d done was right. It was time to prove how wrong he was.
‘I know your secret. You’re a romantic man at heart. You crave it, if only you’d admit that to yourself.’
‘You misunderstand me. I gave you everything you wanted. Go.’
His words were a plea, wounded and raw. And at his pain her bright, blinding love for him burst inside.
‘You gave me money. I want something more.’
‘There’s nothing for you here.’
‘Everything’s here. I’ve come for your heart.’
Thea dropped to her knees in front of him. Looking up, she took his hands in hers.
‘Because I love you with all of mine.’
* * *
Christo watched her kneel before him. All sorts of visions flickered through his head. Of dark nights, a warm bed and Thea. Always Thea. He’d attempted to exorcise the house of her short existence there, but even after removing everything from her room the ghost of her still haunted it. Her smell, her shadow was everywhere. Turning every day into a prison, a purgatory from which there was no escape.
‘What madness is this?’
His voiced grated out, raw and ragged. He tried to pull his hands away but she held firm, gazing up at him with her cognac eyes. That look slid inside his veins. His one true addiction was setting him alight.
‘Courage, Christo.’
He stilled. Courage? He was looking at the bravest person he knew. Him...? He was the coward who’d driven her to this. On her knees, begging him. The guilt of it clawed in his chest.
‘You wanted your freedom,’ he said.
Still she held tight. The heat of her infernal fingers scorched him. The light in her eyes reached into his dark places. Damn her. It would take him an age to recover from this.
‘You touched me and I discovered what freedom was. It’s inside myself, not outside the walls which surrounded me. It’s loving with all that I am and all that I have. I’m free with you.’
When he looked at her face he saw it shining from within. Love. It poured from her and into him. How could she feel this way when he had nothing to give? And yet the pain of her absence cut through him.
He fell to his knees in front of her. ‘I told you never to kneel. You should kneel to no man.’
‘I’m not kneeling to any man. I’m kneeling to the man I love. The man with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. For better. For worse. Though I can’t imagine anything worse than the pain of this time without you.’
