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“It’s not the truth.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
With a frustrated breath, he gestured to the car. “Go back to the villa.”
I obeyed. There was nothing more to say, and that line of questioning was dangerous.
As I opened the door and slid inside, I realized it was a good thing I hadn’t ended Drakos tonight. His cousin and sister would assume it was me, even if the bullet had been an accident. Our family feud would not allow them to believe otherwise.
The cab was empty with just me in it, the driver locked behind his privacy glass. I hated to admit it, but I missed Drakos’s presence. I remembered how his body had shielded me. All hardness and beautiful brutality. I shifted my legs in the car, frustrated with the tingle sparking in my core. My husband shouldn’t be arousing me, it should be the other way around.
That gave me an idea—I could play the damsel card! I scooted forward on my seat to tap the privacy glass between me and the driver, but at that moment, the car drove away. I fumed. Another missed chance. Instead of falling apart after the knife incident and then again after the shoot-out, I had shrouded myself in strength and walked away from the gruesome scene with my pride. That wasn’t attractive to a man. I should have appeared horrified and gone to Drakos for comfort. That action could have led to intimacy, thus creating more chances to end him.
Dammit! I fisted my hands tightly in my lap. “How can I fix this?” I whispered to myself.
I spent the rest of the ride playing over everything I’d done wrong and making a note to amend that response in future. It wasn’t until I entered the private mansion and looked up to the moon that I had another idea. I could thank him.
“That could work!” I breathed. I could meet him when he came home, pretend to let go of my pride, and thank him for having my back in the fight. He would like that, and it would draw him closer to me. It would also be within keeping of my character and actions.
Hurrying to my rooms to clean up and change, another thought struck me, and I froze in the middle of removing my clothing.Drakos could have left me to fend for myself.He didn’t need to come into the alley and protect me during the second wave of the attack. He could have let me die and rid himself of this contract without impugning his honor. It would have been obvious I was attacked, and he could have been cleared of the blame. That was exactly the strategy I would have used to please my father—but the butcher didn’t do that. He came to save me.Huh. Is he already falling for me?
Or maybe, a small voice in the back of my head whispered,the butcher has a shred of honor.
Chapter 19 – Talia
Irose from the mastersuite’s balcony that had a view of the moon-bathed ocean and wandered past the infinity pool and into the spacious bathroom. There, I reached for a tube of mascara and applied a fresh coat before moving back to my room.
Swinging my arms, I paced once again around my room in an effort to stay awake. Drakos still wasn’t home. It was after five in the morning, and I found it extremely hard to believe he was still taking care of the thugs. Had he been captured, or was he out enjoying some Grecian company like his sister? I huffed, refusing to admit that bothered me.
I snapped my heel against the floor and spun to face the door. I hadn’t missed his arrival, not on that bike of his, but maybe if I went to get some fresh air, it would make the wait easier?
I slipped into the hall and down the stairwell. There was a French door leading out into a quaint sitting area where Iryna had taken breakfast every morning. A brush of hot air met me as soon as I stepped outside, and I drank in the briny scent of the Aegean. The call of the ocean was strong, and I debated the wisdom of going to our private beach. Deciding I needed it, I stepped forward, called by the ethereal promise of the sea.
“What are you doing awake?” growled a voice from beyond the fruit trees.
I stifled my automatic shriek. Heart thundering in my chest, I stepped around the short trees to find the butcher sitting on a stone bench. With his arms crossed over his chest, he could have been a statue of a demigod. There was an air of danger surrounding him, and I quickly realized I’d intruded on a private, brooding moment.
