He slipped the folded bills beneath the small plate, and then rose. “That’s not what I said.”
She rose, too. “No? Because from what I heard, my job description reads obedient, self-sufficient and, above all, convenient.”
SHE WAS SO glad to be out of the restaurant and moving, even if she didn’t know where they were going. She let Damen walk in front of her, and she followed, not wanting to talk to him, wishing she could escape him, but that was unlikely since she didn’t know where they were and hadn’t brought any money with her, either.
A car was waiting at the foot of the cobblestone street, and it turned out the car was waiting for them. Damen opened the door for her and climbed in next to her.
As the car traveled away from town, she stared out the window, eyes prickling and burning. Despite the fact that it wasn’t an overly warm day, she felt hot and flustered...furious, actually. She’d always thought her father was unkind and self-centered, but at the moment Damen made her father look like a jovial Santa Claus.
She was still seething when Damen pointed out a glimmering path in the distance. “The Byzantine Road,” he said. “If we had more time, we could walk it. It’s a marble path that connects the villages of Prodromos and Lefkes.”
“What are we doing instead?” she asked.
“We’re heading to Parikia, the island’s capital. There are several really interesting places I thought you might enjoy, including a cathedral, a thirteenth-century Venetian castle, the Archaeological Museum Parou and an ancient cemetery, which has always drawn me. Not sure why.”
It all sounded fascinating and Kassiani focused on the adventures ahead, and it was only later when they were ending their day with the glass of ouzo in a beachfront taverna, she realized that the way he’d described the attractions—a cathedral, a castle and cemetery—all sounded rather grand, but nothing in Parikia was grand at all. Even the museum was quite small. But the sites were interesting and she enjoyed visiting places that weren’t teeming with tourists. The cemetery grounds were a bit overgrown, but the tombs and marble headstones were a testament to the antiquity of the cemetery.
As they sat with their glass of ouzo in the taverna, her gaze swept the little town with the cobblestone streets and gleaming white buildings with colorful blue painted doors and shutters. “It’s a charming little town, but I think I’d go mad here,” she said, turning back to Damen. “I’m afraid I’ve lived in a city too long. I wouldn’t know what to do here.”
“What did you do at home?”
“Visit museums. Go to the library. Walk along the waterfront. Read in Golden Gate Park.”
“Who did you do those things with?”
“Myself.”
“I’m sure you had friends.”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Like you, I enjoy my own company. I don’t need constant attention.”
“But you were upset that I gave you space yesterday.”
“A little reassurance after our wedding night would have been nice, but there’s no point in rehashing that, is there?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said tersely. “But I do think—” He broke off, shook his head. “I don’t want to argue.”
She didn’t want to argue, either, and yet she did wish to understand him. “Is it arguing if we are trying to clarify things?”
He reached out and captured her chin, turning her face to his. “Arguing is conflict. I don’t do conflict.”
She could feel the heat of each of his fingers against her jaw, and his voice had dropped, and his deep, husky tone sent a strangely delicious shiver up and down her back. “Because you’re a traditional Greek man, or you just have an overwhelming need to dominate?”
“Just an FYI, kitten, you are neither obedient nor convenient.”
His voice had grown even huskier, which sent a frisson of pleasure through her. “I’m sorry I can’t please you.”
His silver gaze warmed. “Perhaps you need to try a little harder.”
“Perhaps you need to work with me a little more,” she flashed. “Perhaps training a new wife takes more time than you anticipated.”
“Is that where this has gone all wrong? I’ve failed to train you?”
There was a smoky promise in his words that made her heart thump and her insides melt. She pressed her knees together, excited. “You have deck crew, and a captain and an engineer. You have a chief officer, and a second officer and a third officer. A chase boat captain. An officer on watch. Bosun, security officers, purser, chief steward, a second steward, housekeeper, chefs, cooks, laundry and spa therapists—”
“I’m fully aware of all the staff I employ,” he interrupted drily.
“But you haven’t hired anyone to train me,” she concluded. “Which means you either need to bring someone on board to teach me how to be a proper wife, or you’ll have to do it yourself—”
He dropped his head, his mouth covering hers, silencing the stream of words, and when he lifted his head again, his gray eyes glittered and dark color stained his cheekbones. “It seems it’s time to continue your training. We’ll return to the ship now.”
* * *
The speedboat was there in pretty Parikia Harbor as was the yacht, as they’d both traveled around the island to pick them up.
Kassiani tried to ignore her rapidly thudding pulse as they approached the yacht but Damen’s words echoed in her head.
Time to continue your training.
“Am I in trouble?” she asked breathlessly as they boarded the yacht and Damen took her hand and led her up the flights of stairs to the master bedroom.
“Do you want to be in trouble?”
“I am a little nervous,” she confessed.
He pinned her against the bedroom door. “Good.” And then he kissed her again, a hot, demanding kiss that made her legs tremble and her heart race. He was, without a doubt, the most exciting thing that had ever happened in her life. By the time he lifted his head, hers was spinning and her heart was racing and it felt like she had honey wine in her veins.
“When we go inside, you’re going to listen to me,” he said. “You’re not going to argue. You’re going to do exactly what I tell you.”
“Because it turns you on?”
“Yes.” His lips brushed her cheekbone, and then near her ear. “And I think it turns you on, too.” And then he reached down and twisted the doorknob, the bedroom door opening so abruptly she nearly fell into the room. He caught her by the elbow, righting her and steering her into the bedroom before closing the door hard behind them, and then locking it.
Her pulse hammered as he locked the door, and then the air left her lungs when he quietly commanded, “Take off your dress. I want to look at you.”
Heat flooded her, and she could feel herself turning pink, the blood rushing from her chest, up her neck to burn her cheeks, but she headed to the windows to draw the curtains.
“What are you doing?” he ground out.
“Closing the curtains.”
“Why?”