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CHAPTER SIX
WHENTHEYLANDEDin Greece it had been dark, and he had instructed her to try and sleep.
She had been given more milk and honey, and she had done her best. It surprised her that she had managed to sleep. Given the time change, and the fact that she was... She felt raw. Raw and endangered.
The way that he had kissed her, the way that he had held her... And you tempted him to it.
When she had looked at his eyes, she had seen that he wanted her. And there had been something so potent in that, because it teased the thing that she feared the most. Being unwanted. And in that moment she had felt... She had felt renewed. And she had wanted to make him prove just how much he wanted her, and she had done it.
Of course, the end result had been unsatisfying.
What did he want?
He had asked her that.
And she was afraid of the answer. Desperately.
When she woke the next morning, she took in the beauty of the villa for the first time. It was nearly palatial, made entirely of white marble. Everything was bright and airy, giving way to views of the Aegean Sea. It was a blue she’d never seen before. One photographs could never display.
The house itself was lovely, but it paled compared to the natural beauty that surrounded them.
She went out onto the balcony and stared out at the sea. It was silent except for the sound of the waves, the birds, the wind.
And for a moment, she simply stood there, soaking in the fact that she was in a different country. That she was living a life she would never have thought possible. That she was experiencing something wholly different than she had ever imagined she would or could.
And she tried to let that be enough.
Because the scary thing was when she thought about what she wanted...
Constantine was what she saw.
There was a brisk knock on the door and she knew immediately that it wasn’t him.
“Come in.”
She walked in from the balcony, wrapping the white robe she was wearing more firmly around her.
“You must be the bride,” the woman said.
“Yes. I am.”
Though she could hardly believe it.
“I will be fitting you for your dress.”
“I just woke up and...”
And in came a tray with tea and cakes. It was funny how he seemed to know that she had a strong preference for carbohydrates at the moment.
The woman began preparing her fitting station, and Morgan ate, drinking her tea and savoring the sweet tartness of the lemon cakes.
Then she found herself being swathed in beautiful, draping silk. A dress that did nothing to disguise her pregnancy, yet rather seemed to enhance it, and her curves. The straps went off the shoulder, the Grecian drape of the fabrics making her look like a statue, and it went around her stomach in such a fashion as to highlight it.
“It is as he asked for,” the designer said. “And you look incredible. So bold.”
She had to admit, it was quite bold. To wear white and highlight a pregnancy the entire world thought was another man’s.
Of course, the truth was, she was much closer to being a bride who could wear white than even Constantine might think. Pregnancy notwithstanding.
