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That smile reappeared. ‘There is a third option, but I won’t risk you running away from me again should I mention it.’
Her face flamed and his smile turned into laughter. And wasn’t it just the most insulting icing on the cake that every cell in her body seemed to scream in delight at that sound?
‘Very well. I will curate my time accordingly, and give you the six months.’
Undisguised triumph leapt into his eyes.‘Ehfaristo, yineka mou,’he rasped. He started to reach out.
Fearing another touch, another caress would be too much, Imogen cleared her throat. ‘What do you want to do first?’
Without answering he rose and went to the yacht’s intercom. She watched him press the button that connected him to the captain and proceed to have a conversation in Greek she didn’t understand.
That done, he turned and strolled back towards her, the swagger in his walk wreaking utter havoc with her breathing.
‘I’ve just asked the captain to plot a chart for a few destinations. First stop, Montenegro. I’m in the mood for an adventure.’
That was the first in the series of alarming surprises in store for her that day. Once she’d sent the required emails informing her assistant and senior staff of her intended vacation, she went downstairs to her cabin, intending to change into a swimsuit to join Zeph for a mid-morning swim.
Her walk-in closet was empty. Every scrap of her belongings was gone, down to the dental floss she’d used last night.
Marching into the master suite down the hall, she knocked and received a deep-voiced, half-amused summons.
‘You had my things moved?’ she demanded, unwilling to look at the bed she’d rolled around in only a handful of hours ago or—after one heart-stopping glance at him—the man who was wearing swim shorts and nothing else.
Of course, she caught his eloquent shrug from the corner of her eye. ‘I anticipated your agreement and acted on it. You can choose to be affronted or chalk it up to expediency.’
‘But we were...we had separate sleeping arrangements before.’
His nostrils pinched. ‘Yes.Before.It doesn’t work for me any more.’
‘Why not? Because of appearances? You didn’t care about what the staff thought before.’
Something lit at the back of his eyes, too impenetrable for her to work through, and it was gone before she could figure it out. ‘A lot of things happened before that I’m seeking to alter.’
Her heart lurched. What did that mean? Imogen felt like ten kinds of coward for not being strong enough to insist on an elaboration. Not because she wasn’t yearning to know, but because she was alarmed by the possibility that the answer he gave, if it wasn’t the right one, might bruise her.
Her mouth worked, as if she’d love nothing better than to rip into him for his assumption. Something in Zeph’s belly jumped, hot anticipation swirling through his veins. He was almost sorry when she waved a dismissive hand. Because a small part of him also wanted that interrogation, just so he could work his way through why he’d given the instruction. Yes, he wanted his wife in his bed. But he suspected it went beyond that. An intense, unfamiliar need knotted in his belly that had nothing to do with sex. That compelled him to act in a way that clearly—if his wife was to be believed—was unlike him.
And that need wouldn’t be denied.
‘I’ll let it go, this once. Please don’t make it a habit.’ Her gaze, compelled by his unrelenting masculinity, skated over him again. ‘And just so we’re clear, we still won’t be having sex.’ Desperate words ripped from desperate senses that mocked her even as she said them. But she was proud of herself for drawing that line. Because stepping over it would be the last word in lunacy.
Wouldn’t it?
He curbed a smile, wisely guessing it wouldn’t be welcome. ‘Understood, wife.’
Her nostrils pinched in a quick inhale. ‘All this is one giant joke to you, isn’t it?’
‘Not at all. I just don’t see the need to expend energy on fighting when we could be using that energy efficiency elsewhere.’
‘Like sex, you mean?’ she threw at him. Or attempted to. She failed when her cheek flared bright red again and her eyes grew that stormy shade he’d come to associate with her arousal.
Oh, yes, his wife wanted him as much as he wanted her.
But not yet. ‘Eventually,’ he responded, much to the chagrin and disappointment of his raging libido.
Her widened gaze said his answer had thrown her too. She cast her gaze around, lingering on the bed before flitting away. ‘Then...what do you have in mind?’
Zeph stifled a groan.
