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Something flashes in Marco’s eyes. Does he know I’m lying? Does it even matter?
“Well, even if it wasn’t,” he murmurs, “after tonight, it would be.”
I smile before I can stop myself. It’s a beautiful compliment. “Th-thank you.”
He puts his hand to the small of my back and leads me to the door. “Although, it must be said, as beautiful as you are tonight, I prefer you in a dress.” I stiffen, opening my mouth to snap at him, tell him to go fuck himself, or just make a smartass comment, but I don’t get the chance before he’s speaking again. “Of course, that’s just because it’d be easier to push it up past your hips and bury my head between your legs,” he continues as we walk outside. I stumble with his words, not quite believing he just said that out loud. I look up at the steward who is holding the door open for us. He clearly heard what Marco said, but he’s refusing to look at me and I’m glad.
“Maybe it’s for that reason, I’m wearing pants,” I mutter back. “More protection.”
Marco laughs, and I have to admit, he has a really great laugh. “You don’t need protection from me, Helena.”
“So you say.”
The chauffer is holding the door open to the limo. I slide in with practiced ease. I need to get control of myself. It would appear my date is planning on keeping me on my toes. Once I’m settled, Marco gets in too. The once roomy feeling cab is almost claustrophobic now.
I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.
Chapter 12
Marco
Two things occur to me as we walk into the restaurant in Athens. First, Helena is beautiful every day, but tonight she is breathtaking. Christ, just watching the way her ass moves in those pants makes my cock ache. Secondly, I should have rented the fucking place out because every son of a bitch in here is eye-fucking her. I’ll be lucky if I haven’t killed half the men in the restaurant before the night is over.
We make it to our table by the back wall as instructed. Two bodyguards flank around us and settle against the wall behind us. I ignore the waiter and pull out Helena’s chair on my own. Once she sits, I lean down, putting my finger under her chin and pulling her face up so that she’s looking at me. I press our lips together. It’s quick, closed mouth, and nowhere near how I want to kiss her, but it sends a message to the fuck-heads around us that she’s mine and it gets Helena used to my touch.
When I get Helena settled, I feel her eyes on me. I smile. She looks dazed, and I hope that bodes well for us tonight. It’s already better than having her yell that she’s going home. I need to make her realize that she is home. I’m learning as much as she is. I’ve spent my life trained to care for Melina and not get very close. The same is doubly true for Helena since our engagement. I’m finding women are very complicated creatures.
I sit down across from her, but it’s almost against my will. I want to be closer to her. I frown. Needs that I never knew I had—never allowed myself to have—boil to the surface. It’s a strange feeling, because after years of living my life in a cage, I’m free. For the first time in my life, I’m free and I want to let my wants and needs free too. I don’t want to hold back.
She’s perusing through the menu while I contemplate my new reality. I can’t say how long we’re like this. Time seems to slow as I sift through my thoughts. I don’t suppose I’ve allowed myself to think about the fact that I’m free of my father’s torment yet. Tonight, the truth seems monumental, however. Especially with Helena sitting across from me.
Dare I show her the man I really am? I’ve given her glimpses. Can I allow myself to let go of the restraints that I’ve kept myself in just to make sure those close to me survived?
“Have I displeased you?” Helena asks, jolting me from my thoughts. She puts her menu down and stares at me.
“Why would you say that?” I ask.
“You’re staring at me rather…” She pauses as she struggles to find the word and then adds, “Intently.”
“Intently?” I laugh.
“That sounded better than angrily, or like you wanted to choke the life out of me.”
I frown, not liking that an idea like that entered her mind. “I would never touch you like that, baby.”
“Then, what was that look for?” she asks.
“I don’t like you being over there. It’s too far away from me.”
She blinks. Then, her gaze moves around the room. She takes in the sleek and modern décor that is a mixture of stark black and splashes of gold. Expense and opulence drips and oozes around us. It’s supposed to, however, because this restaurant caters to the rich and the famous. I hate the place, quite honestly. My father loved it. I’m not sure why I chose it. Perhaps it was habit. It was most likely because I figured this was the type of place that Helena was used to and I wanted to show her she could still have the life she imagined with me. Idly, I wonder what she would think if I confessed that I’d rather be at the house with just the two of us. Hell, maybe a hotel with room service. There are too many memories at the house and the darkness there still chokes me.
