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Take it slowly, she told herself firmly.
Slowly.
‘This sounds like a very long-term plan,’ she suggested carefully.
‘It is.’ Some of the coldness had left his face and in its place she could see conviction. And persuasion. ‘I’m talking endurance, Lucy. About putting a child’s needs first and making a promise to each other that neither of us intends to break. About commitment and stability.’
‘How can you be so sure you could find that with me?’ She stared at him. ‘When you don’t really know me. At school you were years ahead of me. I was just the school nurse’s daughter who was allowed to take certain classes with the boys. Apart from those times when you were having the wound on your leg attended to, you didn’t even notice me. We were just ships which passed in the night and, apart from that, we’ve only spent a few days together.’
‘You think that time we spent on Prasinisos didn’t provide me with the opportunity to discover something of what makes Lucy Phillips tick?’ he enquired softly.
Lucy wanted to turn away from the mocking look in his eyes but that would be an immature response to a perfectly reasonable question. Because they had been intimate—and it would be hypocritical to pretend they hadn’t.
‘I can’t deny we were lovers,’ she husked. ‘But physical intimacy during a mini-break on a Greek island is one thing. Real life is another. We’re strangers, Drakon. How do you know I wouldn’t drive you crackers before the first month was up?’
His eyes narrowed but Lucy couldn’t mistake the brief flash of surprise which had gleamed there. As if he couldn’t quite believe that she was prevaricating instead of instantly accepting his offer.
And wasn’t there a part of her which couldn’t quite believe it herself? Making out as if there were men lining up and asking her to marry them every day of the week!
‘We would have to work at it, in the way that people with arranged marriages have always done,’ he said. ‘And we will be walking into it with our eyes open—without any of the myths of love and romance which set people up for disappointment, and failure. If we refuse to have unrealistic expectations about each other, then we should succeed.’ He slanted her a smile. ‘Does that reassure you?’
Lucy thought how clever he was. And how controlling, too. That slow smile—she was certain—had been angled at her deliberately in order to pump up her heart rate and it had worked, hadn’t it? Was that the main reason he was here—because he thought of her as passive? Wasn’t it time to demonstrate that while she might be poor and unglamorous, that didn’t necessarily mean she was a complete pushover? ‘So what’s in it for me, Drakon?’ she questioned. ‘What made you think you could turn up without warning and ask me to become your wife? Were you so certain I’d say yes?’
Drakon’s eyes narrowed. He felt a certain responsibility towards her because he had unwittingly taken her virginity and had quashed his desire to see her again because he’d known he was capable of hurting her. He’d suspected that someone like her would be unable to cope with a commitment-phobe like him, even though he’d been sorely tempted to have sex with her again. But that had been back then—when his life had been free and unfettered. This was now, when he had an unexpected burden of responsibility to shoulder.
His mouth hardened. ‘I had an idea you might be tempted.’
‘Because?’
Would it be cruel to point out that without him a limited future inevitably beckoned for someone like her? But wouldn’t any future be limited compared with the one he was offering her with all the money she could ever desire? He looked once again at her bare fingers. ‘You don’t show any signs of settling down,’ he observed.
‘Not at the moment, no.’
‘So do you see yourself continuing to make ends meet as a relatively hard-up waitress?’ he mused. ‘Is that how you want the rest of your life to pan out?’
There was anger on her face now. And something which looked like pride. ‘I don’t just waitress. I actually help Caroline with all the cooking,’ she declared icily. ‘And she’s indicated that she’d be prepared to let me buy the business when she eventually retires, which is what I’ve been saving up for. The waitressing is just a means to an end.’
‘And that’s what you really want, is it, Lucy? Resigning yourself to a life of relative poverty. Of a futile wait for Mr Right, perhaps—’
‘Excuse me?’ She pulled back her shoulders and glared at him. ‘You think all women are just waiting around for a would-be husband to leap into their life?’
He gave a careless shrug. ‘I’m saying that plenty of them are, yes—at least, in my experience. But if that’s what you’re hoping for, let me enlighten you. That man is just fantasy. He’s someone who may or may not materialise,’ he said softly. ‘Whereas a rich man with whom you’re sexually compatible—a man who really needs you—he’s here. Right here.’
His words had got through to her, he could see that. Just as he could see the temptation which flickered in her blue eyes.
‘And if I were to agree...’ Her voice tailed off. ‘What kind of marriage would you expect?’
Drakon heard the uncertain note in her voice but her darkening eyes told a different story. And suddenly he found himself being sucked into a vortex of erotic recall. He remembered the softness of her thighs and the untamed bush of hair which concealed her untouched treasure. For perhaps the only time in his adult sexual life, he had been momentarily astonished—and not just because she hadn’t waxed—because what woman of twenty-eight was a virgin in this day and age? He remembered the soft gasp she’d given when he had entered her, the faint pain of her initial response quickly giving way to breathless murmurs of encouragement and then, to her first sweetly sobbing orgasm. And hadn’t that felt sublime? Hadn’t he experienced a deep satisfaction as she had choked out her pleasure against his bare shoulder, her ecstatic response filling him with a rush of primeval pleasure?
He’d made love to her countless times during those few short days—justifying his seemingly insatiable appetite with the assurance that he was simply enjoying introducing her to sex. But it had been more than that, even though he’d been loath to admit it then and was even less inclined to do so now. Her untutored eagerness had lit a strange yearning inside him—one which was being ignited right now.
He felt the exquisite throb of desire at his groin and heard the powerful thunder of his own heart. Maybe it was wrong to be thinking about sex at a time like this, but didn’t they say the life force was at its most powerful during periods of grief and loss? Wasn’t it nature’s way of sustaining the human race, as well as reinforcing that, while his twin brother might be lying cold and dead beneath the hard earth, he, Drakon, was very much alive and at the mercy of his senses?
He began to walk towards her, noticing the instinctive tremble of her lips as he grew closer, but she didn’t stop him, nor show any signs of wanting to. She just stood there, her blue eyes bright and questioning, her thick dark hair spilling out of the untidy plait which snaked down her back.
‘I would expect the usual things which marriage entails,’ he said huskily. ‘Physical intimacy, for a start. I think that’s one thing we both know we really do have in common.’
Distractedly, Lucy rubbed her toe against the rug, scarcely able to believe they were having this kind of conversation. Normally she didn’t have to deal with anything more taxing than someone asking whether there were any gluten-free sandwiches available. Yet Drakon Konstantinou had just come right out and told her they were sexually compatible—him with a vast cast of ex-lovers and her with only one! She had no experience of such things but instinct told her that his words were true.
