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“Oh, yes,” he said slowly, silkily, the words reaching into her veins and turning the ice there to lava. “You will be my wife in all ways, and what’s more, you will enjoy it.”
She swept her eyes shut, wishing she could refute that, wishing her body wasn’t so damned traitorous. “I’m not interested…”
“Liar,” he laughed, the sound discordant. “You fell into my bed last night, and you will do so again and again. Whatever else you might feel, do not lie about the desire that is between us.”
Her eyes slammed into his and she couldn’t reject his assertion, because he was right. There was lust there. So much lust.
“So?” He demanded. “Is it to be marriage, or not?”
Her eyes were loaded with bitter distress. “You give me no choice.” She swept her eyes shut, the words hurting her soul. “If I had any other option, believe me, Xavier, I wouldn’t go within ten feet of you ever again. But we share a son and I will always, always do what is best for him.”
He shook his head. “You’ve proven yourself wrong there – keeping him from his father was never going to be right for Joshua. That decision was motivated by self-interest alone.”
“How can you –,”
He shook his head and he spoke over her. “Let us argue over dinner. I have not eaten and now that our marriage matter is sorted, find I am ravenous.”
She darted her tongue out, licking her lower lip to moisten it. “I don’t have any food in the house,” she said truthfully. Usually she would have done the grocery shopping on that day, but she’d been too distressed by his ultimatum to think straight.
“Then we will order in,” he said with a shrug. “What do you like eating?”
She heard his question, but she was falling through the cracks of time, being sucked back four years, to a hotel room in central London, to a time of simplicity and hope.
“You’re telling me this doesn’t have every bit of the food pyramid represented?” She asked, pointing to an enormous bowl of strawberry ice cream with fresh-chopped bananas on top.
“Protein?” He teased, watching as she lifted a spoonful to her mouth and ate it, her eyes shut on a wave of appreciation.
“Eggs,” she answered, her mouth full.
“Grains?”
“Thickened with wheat syrup,” she grinned.
“Dairy is obvious,” he said, shaking his head. “But I still don’t think it’s an alternative to dinner.”
She pouted. “Nor do I, but seeing as we’re already throwing out the rule book this weekend, let me have this little indulgence too.”
He walked towards her and cupped her face in his hands. “I will let you have anything you want, querida. Ask me for it and it is yours.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Okay.” She pushed up, standing so that their eyes were more level. “Try this.” And she scooped some of the ice cream and banana towards his mouth.
He arched a brow. “You have a man in your power who happens to be both wealthy and utterly under your spell, who has said he will give you anything you want, and you choose to squander your wish on ice cream?”
“Are you like a genie?” She teased, hovering the ice cream right near his lips. “Is this a one time wish scenario?”
“No.” His eyes held hers. “Consider it a long-standing offer.” And her heart had twisted and her lips had lifted and she’d pushed the ice cream into his mouth to hide the happiness his words had spread through her.
“Delicious,” he agreed. “But I think I prefer to watch you eating it.”
“Elizabeth? Dinner?”
“I don’t want to eat with you,” she said, frowning, the memory hovering on the periphery of her mind so that it was hard to reconcile the man before her – so stern, his face scarred, his expression somber – with the charming man who’d promised to grant her any wish, any time.
Something in the region of her heart panged to contemplate what she’d lost – the enormity of that.
