“Good morning,” he said, and rose to his feet. He gestured to the chair opposite his. She took it, plucked the napkin from under the heavy silverware and spread it in her lap. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry about last night—”
“That you slept curled in my arms?”
“That I got sick,” she said quickly, but the tiniest bit of color crept into her face.
So. Perhaps she wasn’t as self-confident as she appeared.
“I’m just happy a night’s sleep helped. I tried not to disturb you when I left the bed,” he said, pouring coffee for her. He glanced at her, to see what effect his deliberate use of the word ‘bed’ had made. None. None at all. Her expression was impersonal again. “You were curled so tightly in my arms that I had to disentangle us.”
There it was again. That little rush of color. She shot him a look, then buried it in a sip of coffee. She swallowed, looked up. The tip of her tongue peeped out; she swiped it over her lips. To his annoyance, he felt his body stir.
“I was sure I’d wake you when I took my arm out from around your shoulders.”
She looked straight at him. “I thought your stewardess said we’d be landing soon.”
“A change of subject, agapimeni?” His tone was pure silk. “Did you want to discuss something other than the fact that you slept with me last night?”
“We shared the same bed,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m sure you know the difference between that and what people mean when they say they slept together.” Her lips compressed. “Besides, I didn’t know I rated a change of subject. I thought mistresses were expected to comply with the wishes of their masters. That is what I will be, isn’t it? Your mistress? I mean, isn’t that what one calls a woman who warms a man’s bed?”
Damn it! He was the one who could feel his face filling with heat. What a hell of a little speech, and had she deliberately waited until Thalia was in earshot? His stewardess had been with him for years; if asked, he’d have said nothing could rattle her but hadn’t her eyebrows just taken a surprised lift?
Alex tossed his napkin on the table and got to his feet. Two could play at this game of control—but only one would be the winner.
“We’ll be on the ground soon,” he said coldly. “And then there’ll be plenty of time for me to make my wishes clear—and for you to make absolutely certain you comply with them.”
The last time Maria had come to Aristo, the only time, had been in early December, the start of the Mediterranean winter.
The plane had taxied to a jet way; she’d disembarked along with scores of other travel-weary coach passengers and sleepwalked through the terminal to a luggage carousel where she’d waited for her suitcase to thump its way toward her. Then she’d headed outside and waited in line for a taxi.
Arriving in the kingdom with a prince of the Royal House of Karedes was very different.
Alex’s jet landed and taxied to an area far from the busy terminal. Two men wheeled a staircase to the door. The captain and co-pilot left the cockpit and saluted as she and Alex moved past them; Thalia dropped a little curtsy to Alex and smiled at her.
“Enjoy your stay, miss.”
Alex slid his arm around her waist. “I’ll see to it Ms. Santos enjoys every minute.”
Was she the only one who heard the ironic undertone in his words? She couldn’t tell; Thalia’s face showed nothing but Maria felt a tinge of heat wash into hers.
No, she told herself fiercely, no! She would not let him take control again. Determinedly, she shrugged free of his encircling arm and went down the stairs.
In December, the Aristan skies had been a brilliant blue and the day unseasonably warm. Now, in early February, the air held a distinct chill. Just as chilling was the sight of the uniformed chauffeur standing at attention beside a black limousine even more imposing than the one that had ferried them around New York.
A shudder went through her, and Alex immediately took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“I don’t need that,” she said, trying to shrug it away, but he clasped the collar, brought the edges together and, in doing so, drew her closer.
“But you do, agapimeni,” he said, smiling though the smile never reached his eyes. “Besides, didn’t you just tell me the first rule a mistress must follow is compliance?”
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” Maria said coolly. “I’m not your mistress yet.”
His eyes grew darker than midnight.
“You will be, glyka mou,” he said huskily. “And very soon.”
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and hooked it behind her ear. His gaze fell to her lips. Was he going to kiss her, despite the people watching from the top of the stairs and the chauffeur waiting beside the car?
If he did—if he did, she would stand straight and still within his arms and give him nothing in return.
“Did you hear what I said, Maria? An hour from now, you’ll be in my bed.”
Her pulse rocketed. It took all her strength to respond with what she hoped was a cool smile.
“Thank you for the warning, Your Highness. It’s always helpful to be prepared for something unpleasant.”
To her amazement, Alex laughed.
“Very nicely done.” His hands swept into her hair and he tilted her face to his. “But a sad little lie.” His smile faded. “Tell me how unpleasant it is after I have you undressed,” he whispered. “Say it when my mouth is at your breast, when it is between your thighs. Tell me then, glyka mou, and I might just believe you.”
She felt her nipples peak, felt the swift rush of desire spear low in her belly. He seemed to know what effect his words had because he bent his head and gave her a quick, possessive kiss.
“Get in the car, agapi mou,” he said, and the look of satisfaction on his hard, beautiful face made her wonder who she hated the most, Alex or herself.
The car moved swiftly through the streets of Ellos.
Alex was on his cell phone, talking softly as buildings flashed by. She recognized the small hotel she’d stayed at, the busy street where she’d first met him. The romantic restaurant he’d taken her to, the little park where he’d kissed her.
He’d told the truth, she thought, and drew a shaky breath. He’d have her in his bed very soon. His apartment was only a couple of blocks away.
But the car didn’t take the turn that would have brought them there.
Where was he taking her, then?
She threw him a glance. He’d put the phone away; he sat with his arms folded over his chest, looking distant and formidable, and she decided she’d sooner die than ask. Besides, what did it matter? Maybe he had rules for this kind of thing. Or maybe he didn’t want her in his apartment. Maybe there was another woman there already. Or maybe he preferred to keep his women in a hotel.
The limo swooped up a ramp and onto a highway. A sign in both Greek and English flashed by.
To the North Coast Beaches and the Bay of Apollonia.
Beaches? Bays? She was a city girl. Streets, noise, traffic were her natural habitat. Beaches and bays sounded foreign. Isolated.
“Aren’t we going to your apartment?”
She spoke without thinking, regretted it almost immediately, but Alex had