Wedding Night With Her Enemy. Melanie Milburne
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shining brass sign and expressed how he wanted Draco to aim high, to dream big and bountiful, to make something of himself so he wouldn’t have to struggle the way he had done. When his father had been killed in a boating accident four weeks later, Draco had been left to fend for himself.
But his father’s words had stayed with him, motivating him, fuelling his drive and determination. He’d clawed his way out of poverty, working several menial jobs while trying to get an education. At nineteen, he’d part-owned a business, and had gone on to own it fully when the partner had retired. He had gone from strength to strength after that, building and expanding each company he acquired. He was a self-made man and he was proud of it.
No one could say he wasn’t a prize catch.
Not now.
And who could be a better wife for him than Allegra Kallas—the daughter of the businessman who owned the corporation his father had singled out that day with such aspiration? Acquiring the company would be a symbol of Draco’s success. A token of the dreams and hopes his father had had for him and that he had now fulfilled in his father’s honour.
Draco watched her sipping her champagne, sitting there on one of the plush leather sofas. Her long legs were crossed, one racehorse-slim ankle moving up and down in a kicking motion—the only clue she was feeling agitated. Her expression had gone back to her signature cool mask of indifference, which was another thing that secretly turned him on. He was amused how she took that schoolmistress tone with him. When she tried to stare him down with those flashing, unusually dark blue eyes, it made him hard as stone. Harder. He could feel the throb of it even now.
He’d wanted to kiss her. Of course he had. What man with even a trace of testosterone wouldn’t want to feel that lusciously soft mouth? He’d tasted those sweet, hot lips once and couldn’t wait to do it again. But he knew if he moved too soon it could shift the balance of power. He wanted his ring on her finger. He wanted her hungry. He wanted her begging. He wanted her to be honest about her lust for him. For lust after him she did. He should know the signs because he was experiencing them himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off her generous and supple mouth. Couldn’t stop thinking about that mouth opening over him, drawing on him, sucking him till he blew like the volcano Santorini was famous for.
Draco met her eyes across the space that separated them. She raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, that starchy, English aristocratic, ‘I’m too good for the likes of you’ spark in her eyes making him want to carry her off fireman-style and show her just how good he could be for her. ‘Another drink to celebrate our engagement, agape mou?’ he said.
Her mouth was puckered like the drawstrings of an old-fashioned purse. ‘Don’t call me that. You know you don’t mean it.’
He pushed away from the window where he had been leaning. ‘Here’s the thing—we have to act like a happy couple, even if in private you want to play pistols at dawn.’
Her chin came up to a defiant height. ‘No one’s going to believe it, you know. Not us. We’re known to positively loathe each other.’ Her cheeks went a shade darker. ‘Especially after that night in London in December.’
He smiled at the memory. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt that tingle of attraction. More than a tingle. A shockwave that had left him buzzing for hours afterwards. ‘Ah, yes. It wasn’t one of your best moments, was it? I was only trying to help and what did I get? A glass of red wine poured in my lap. Hardly the behaviour of a grown woman.’
Her jaw looked as though she were biting down on a metal rod. ‘You provoked me. And it was either have that wine in your lap or splashed in your face, and your throat cut with the glass.’
He tut-tutted and shook his head at her as if she were a wilfully disobedient child who consistently disappointed him. ‘It seems I may have to teach you how to behave. That will be fun: Wife Behaviour for Beginners.’
She sprang off the sofa as if something had bitten her on the behind, throwing him a look that would have stripped tarmac off a road. ‘You think you’re so smart, manipulating me into this farce of a marriage, but I’ve got news for you. I will not be a doormat. I will not be treated like a child. I will not sleep with you. Do? You? Understand?’
Draco loved it when she got angry with him. She was always so buttoned up, cool and controlled. But with him she showed the depth of passion in her personality others didn’t see. She was feisty, a firebrand with a flaying tongue and a whip-quick wit. He enjoyed their verbal sparring. It was a big turn-on for him. Few women stood up to him or challenged him the way she did. He liked that she had spirit. That she wasn’t afraid to lock horns with him.
He would much rather she locked those gorgeous lips on his, but all in good time.
‘I understand you’re a little apprehensive about sex, but I can assure you, I’m excellent at it.’
Twin pools of bright pink flared on her cheeks. ‘I am not apprehensive about sex. I have sex—I have it all the time. I just don’t care to have it with you.’
How he wanted to make her eat every one of those words and lick them away with that hot little tongue of hers. He wanted that tongue all over his body. He wanted. He wanted. He wanted. It pulsed through him like an ache. He’d been too long between relationships. It had been weeks—no, months—since he’d had sex. He’d been too busy, distracted by work and the dire financial situation Cosimo Kallas was in, to bother about hooking up with anyone.
But now he was ready.
He was so ready he could barely keep his hands off those slim hips, from pulling her against him so she could feel how ready. ‘You will share my bed even if you don’t share my body to begin with. I won’t have my household staff snickering behind my back at my inability to consummate my marriage.’
She glared at him so hotly he thought the champagne in his glass was going to boil. ‘If you so much as lay one finger on me, I’ll scream loud enough for them to hear me in Albania.’
Draco gave an indolent smile. ‘I can guarantee you’ll scream, glykia mou. You certainly won’t be the first. Most women in my bed do.’
Her mouth went into a flat line and her hands clenched into tight little white-knuckled balls. Her whole body seem to vibrate like a child’s battery-operated toy. ‘I’m surprised you want to wait until we’re married. Why don’t you throw me to the floor and have your way with me now?’
‘Tempting, but alas, I’m a civilised man.’ He swept a hand behind him where he’d entered the room earlier. ‘See? No knuckle marks along the carpet.’
Her caustic look showed just how uncivilised she thought him. She swung away and put herself behind one of the sofas, as if she needed to barricade herself. ‘I suppose you’re only making me wait to ramp up the torture quotient.’
‘The sort of torture I have in mind will be mutually pleasurable.’
She shook her hair back behind her shoulders in a haughty manner. The silky swing of it always fascinated him. It was like the swish of a curtain. ‘I find it hard to understand how you could want to bed a woman who hates you. It seems a little kinky to me.’
‘You don’t hate me, Allegra. What you hate is how you can’t get your way with me. You need a strong man. Someone who will allow you to express that passionate nature you keep under wraps all the time. I’m that man.’
She gave one of her derisory laughs. ‘Hello? We’ve actually had a women’s movement during the last century. Didn’t you hear about that or were you too busy clubbing mammoths and dragging them back to your cave?’
Draco’s groin tightened at her witty come-back. She always gave as good as she got, which was another reason he thought her perfect wife material. He didn’t want a doormat. He didn’t want someone who didn’t have the spirit to spar with him.
He wanted her.
It was as simple as that. Since he’d seen her in London he had lost interest in other women. He had found the dating