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When she met his eyes, blazing anger had turned them dark. His mouth was a picture of distaste. “You thought I cheated on you. You thought I had the morals of an alley cat. YouthinkI’m still that feral dog who’s loyal to no one. And instead of asking me about it, instead of...” He sucked in a deep breath, his self-control masterful.
She saw a flicker of the teenage Aristos in his eyes, though he hadn’t learned to control his temper as well then.
The Aristos that had found himself off the streets but in an equally ruthless and confounding world all of a sudden. The Aristos that had been found lacking in every way by the tutors Leo had hired to whip him into shape to be his heir. The Aristos that had been alternately horrified and bemused by the fact that the very family he’d craved all his life could include conniving cousins, and vulture-like aunts. The Aristos that had been full of raw vulnerability and reckless stunts, the Aristos that had delighted in making her laugh.
The Aristos she’d tried for years to erase from her mind, her heart, her memories even. But he’d been her first love. Maybe the only man she’d ever loved.
“So that’s what you think of me.” He was standing half-naked in front of her and yet he’d never been more wrapped in armor, more inaccessible to Mira. “A man who goes back on his word, a man who has no loyalty. A man who would make a mockery of you and our marriage the first chance he gets. A man who doesn’t even deserve a chance to defend himself.”
“Our marriage was...isa convenient transaction, Aristos.” Mira had never hated her hard heart more than at the moment. Never hated her inability to let herself be vulnerable and open.
How many precious things had she lost in her life because she’d never gotten over her mother’s abandonment of her? Because her father had disappointed her again and again and again by never being even remotely interested in her existence? When did strength morph into brittleness that blinded one to all the good things in the world?
“We never...”
“If it was only a transaction, why did you run?”
And there was the crux of it. The small kernel of truth she’d been refusing to face for months. Even now, a part of her wanted to hide from his relentlessly prying gaze and from her own self. But she also wanted to touch him and kiss him and soothe his ruffled feathers and claim just a little of him for herself.
Something real.
He had given her that even in the midst of the ridiculous contract. But she’d been too stupid to see it, to take it. To know it.
Lifting her chin, she faced him. “Because I realized I did want it. Even if it was all a sham, I wanted it to be real for as long as it lasted.”
“You had it,thee mou, and you threw it away.”
An echo of something unsaid lingered in his words but Mira couldn’t see it.
Before she could recover, he moved away from her, as if he couldn’t bear to be near her. Something urgent and panicky filled her veins. She’d never been so wrong in her life. Never been so dependent on someone for her own peace of mind. A part of her wanted to slink away with her tail tucked between her legs, say it was over before it began.
The other part that had read and reread Thaata’s note won.
His suitcase was flung open on the island in the closet and he’d pulled on black boxers by the time Mira gathered enough nerve to reach him.
One night...she kept chanting to herself. She’d live for this one night first and then sort out the rest.
She froze on the threshold though. For long minutes. She’d gotten an eyeful of his lethally honed body before but in sparse moonlight. But now... Heat flushed her from within, a sudden outpouring of desire. Her skin felt two sizes too tight.
His boxers hung low on bony hips—really, the man should be eating constantly for all the energy he burned through in his extreme lifestyle—and her eyes traced the dark trail of hair that ran down from his abdomen and disappeared into his underwear. Happy trail, wasn’t that what Yana called it? Aptly named since Mira could happily explore where that led for hours.
Every bit of him was pure muscle. Including the sculpted V at his groin.
Her gaze moved up from that spot—a favorite of hers now—to his hard abdomen and then higher to his lean chest, smattered with springy chest hair. The man even had a sexy Adam’s apple, if that was possible. Mira licked her lips, myriad images of all the things she wanted to do with him flashing vividly in her mind.
Aristos had stilled too. And had caught her thoroughly shameless appraisal of him. But there was no knowing smirk dancing on his lips, no challenging glint in his eyes. No mocking taunts, no using their situation to touch her and taunt her and inflame her senses. And suddenly, she wanted that Aristos back.
She wanted him back,period.
“No, it’s not shameless,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head.
“What’s not shameless?” he asked, instead of throwing her out, and Mira thought maybe there was a chance she could save the night at least.
“Me ogling you is not wrong or shameless,” she replied, some of her confidence coming back. “You’re mine to look at. Naked or otherwise.”
Now where had that bold possessive declaration sprung from? And yet, she was damned if she’d take it back.
One arrogant brow rose in his face, but no warmth dawned in his eyes.
