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‘I was just looking. You don’t like it?’
‘It’s not whether I like it, but it doesn’t quite seem like you.’
How was it that this man, who she barely knew, who she had yet to even share a bed with, seemed to know her better than Marc, with whom she had spent nearly four years?
‘What do you think would suit me best, then?’ she asked, pushing past her bruised and battered heart.
He levelled her with a gaze so considered she wanted to turn away, fearful that he might somehow divine her thoughts. Finally, as if deciding something, he took her by the shoulders and guided her to a velvet ring display on top of the counter. The old man stood behind it with an exhilarated look across his features. She was distracted by that for a moment, before looking down at the single ring held by the dark velvet folds.
‘Oh.’ She couldn’t have prevented the small sound of shock falling from her lips. It was beautiful; a thin gold band, set with bright green sapphires in a half eternity pattern. It was everything that she would have ever wanted for her engagement ring. And it was altogether too much.
The man behind the counter gently prised the ring from where it lay and gave it to Loukis, gesturing for him to present it to his fiancée.
‘I’m sure it won’t...’
She trailed off as Loukis took her hand in his, his thumb unfurling her ring finger, smoothing away the slight tremors she felt across her skin, and slid the exquisite piece down to where it fitted, perfectly at the base of her finger.
She looked up at him then. She shouldn’t have, but she couldn’t resist. The look in his eyes, the dark promise, the undercurrent of something more than just an agreed upon fake relationship, shocking them both.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ASLOUKISEXITEDthe shop, he tried to ignore the residual feelings that had been brought on the moment he slipped the engagement ring onto Célia’s finger. For a man who had been determined to avoid such a thing ever happening, he put it down to the fact he was going against his very nature. Rather than the fact that for a moment, in the shop, Célia had seemed utterly vulnerable. Without artifice or defence, her expressive amber eyes had contained too much. Had communicated too much.
He grasped her hand and placed his arm around her shoulders, persevering through the flinch he had expected, and settled her into his side, careless of the other pedestrians trying to rush around them in their haste.
He felt her head scan to one side, then the next, as much as he saw it from his peripheral vision, given that she barely reached his shoulder.
‘What are you looking for?’ he asked, curious.
‘The press. Surely you wouldn’t want them to miss this moment.’ The bitterness on her tongue was harsh, but just.
‘No press. Not today.’
‘Giving me the day off?’
‘I think you’ve deserved it,’ he said, trying to keep his voice light. ‘What would you like to do now?’
‘I get a say in the matter, do I?’
He was beginning to get more than a little frustrated, so he drew her around to face him.
‘Célia.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, it’s just all a bit too much.’
‘Which is why I wanted today to be fun.’
She huffed out a laugh. ‘Fun?’
‘Yes, you do remember fun, don’t you?’ Although looking at her reaction, perhaps she didn’t. ‘How long have you been working on Chariton?’
She inhaled, the action tempting his gaze to her breasts, but he resisted. Barely.
‘Three years, give or take. Ella and I were talking about it long before, when we were still at university.’
‘When was the last time you had a holiday? Or just took a break?’
That she avoided both his gaze and his question told him enough. He sneaked an arm around her waist and guided her back up the street.
