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One week passed, then another. Summer began to wane, though on a Greek island in the Aegean it was hard to note the difference.
Balthazar did not contact her. His messages were sent through Panagiota. They were always terse and to the point, and still, Kendra was sure she could feel the gathering storm of his temper from across the sea.
She heard the rotors first on an afternoon six weeks after he’d left her. She was curled up in her favorite spot, a swinging chair out on one of the terraces, the sun in her face and a book in her lap from the library she’d been reading her way through.
Kendra felt a kind of electricity shoot through her at the sound. She sat up, aware that if she squinted, this prison of hers bore a distinct resemblance to what she might have considered paradise when she was younger. Nothing to do but take long walks on a secluded beach and lie about reading books? She should have been delirious with joy.
Sometimes she forgot that she wasn’t. That she’d been imprisoned here, no matter how pretty it was.
That she was pregnant with the child of a man who detested her.
A man whose memory woke her in the night, still, on fire with need.
Kendra stayed where she was. She kept on gazing down at her book, even when she heard the faint sound of footsteps against the stones behind her.
And she would have known it was Balthazar even if he hadn’t made a sound. She could feel the leading edge of the storm. She could feel the wind snapping at her, the temperature drop, and far off, she was certain, the warning rumble of thunder.
She should have been scared. Instead, what charged around inside her felt a lot more like exhilaration.
“What a pretty picture you make,” came his sardonic, insulting voice. Darker than she recalled, maybe. But still, it arrowed straight to her core, making her melt. That easily. “What a shame that I know it is all lies.”
Kendra wanted to hurl the book she was reading at his head.
Somehow, she refrained.
“How nice of you to stop in, Balthazar,” she said calmly instead. “You do know, don’t you, that pregnancies keep going even if you’d prefer to pretend that they don’t? I mention this because eventually, when you deign to make an appearance, I won’t be the only one here.”
“The doctor is even now setting up an exam room in one of the guest bedrooms. He will perform a full examination.”
“A prison infirmary,” she replied gaily. “What a treat.”
Kendra looked at him then and she wished she hadn’t.
Because looking at Balthazar...hurt.
He looked like exactly who and what he was. The devil, one of the richest men alive, and her enemy.
All wrapped up in that brooding, near brutal intensity and a dark, bespoke suit that proclaimed his power to the whole of the Mediterranean.
If he was less beautiful, would she be less...thrown?
It shouldn’t matter how beautiful he is, she snapped at herself.It should only matter that he’s locked you away on this island.
“I don’t know why you bothered to come,” she continued, keeping her voice brighter than it should have been. “At this point, wouldn’t it be easier if you just stayed away? I can raise your child in shame and solitude all by myself.”
“I doubt you feel anything approaching shame,” he said, with one of those hard laughs that nearly made her shiver, though she sat in the sunshine. “And it is of no matter, anyway. I have no intention of leaving you here forever, no matter how tempting the prospect. Like it or not, you will be the mother of my child. And I am Balthazar Skalas. There are certain conventions that need to be followed.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean. More kidnaps? More insults and accusations? I can hardly wait.”
His smile then was wintry. It made something cold and bright flash over her, worse than before.
“Why, Kendra. I thought you knew.”
That he seemed to be enjoying himself made her shudder, and she knew he saw it.
He thinks he’s beaten me,Kendra thought, and found she was holding her breath.
“I’ve come to congratulate you, of course,” Balthazar told her. His dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Worse, with triumph. “As we are to be married tomorrow.”
