The Wedding Party Collection. Кейт Хьюит
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asked in a rush.
He didn’t reply.
The taut pallor of his face scared her. She pinned on a bright smile. “Come on, fess up. It can’t be that bad.”
Or could it? Was something wrong with Soula? But, no, she’d spoken to Soula only half an hour ago, and the older woman had sounded upbeat, joking that she would be dancing soon, that certainly she would not need a wheelchair.
Could it be…? Was something wrong with Damon? Horror swept her. She thought wildly of James, of the shock after his diagnosis.
“Are you ill?” She blurted it out and could have kicked herself when his eyes widened.
“No, no. Nothing like that. I want you, Rebecca.” He blurted the words out and a blaze of colour stained his angled cheekbones. Her knees went weak at the sight of the naked emotion that flamed in his eyes. Then the controlled mask dropped back into place and she thought she’d hallucinated.
She blinked. Once. Twice. But the remote, powerful businessman remained. Unshakable, hardly the kind of man who would utter such a stark statement with so much haunting desperation.
“What did you say?” she whispered at last as the seconds stretched and the silence grew more strained.
“I want to make love to you.” His voice was flat, his face expressionless. He could’ve been talking about something mundane, something he didn’t particularly care much about.
Except she’d seen that hectic, passionate flash of emotion. And a telltale flame of fire still seared his cheeks.
Disbelief floored her. “You can’t.”
“I’m a man, you’re a woman. Why not?” A hint of amusement warmed his eyes, softening his impassive face.
“No.” She shook her head wildly.
“Yes.”
Spreading her hands apart, she shrugged helplessly. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” He challenged. “And don’t think you can come up with a reason I haven’t already thought of and dismissed.”
“But—” What was she supposed to say? He’d caught her so off guard she couldn’t even think straight. “You don’t even like me.”
He met her eyes levelly. “You’re quite right. I didn’t think I did.”
She flinched, his honesty stinging. “So how can you even contemplate sleeping with me?” There was confusion. Yet somewhere in a deep, hidden part of her, she felt the first hint of rising excitement.
Damon wanted her.
“I’m beginning to accept that I must like something about you to want you.” A ghost of a smile lit his eyes.
Outrage replaced euphoria. “Well, tough! You’ll just have to live with the wanting, because nothing is going to happen between us. It can’t.” Did he honestly think she was going to take the scraps that he was throwing to her? Did he think she was that desperate?
Probably.
And he was right. Because she had no pride where Damon Asteriades was concerned. All he had to do was snap his fingers and she came running. Just witness her presence here in Auckland. Witness her presence here in this restaurant today. She’d known it would be a bad idea to spend time with him. But had that stopped her accepting his invitation to lunch?
No. Of course not.
Where Damon Asteriades was concerned, she had the survival instincts of a moth circling a bright flame. But she wasn’t ready to be burned alive by him quite yet. No, he was going to have to work a hell of a lot harder. After all, she’d been waiting for him for what seemed like a lifetime. He wasn’t going to knock her feet out from under her with a stark statement that he wanted to make love to her. She wanted more. Much, much more.
“Rebecca, stop resisting. I want you and I’m going to have you—the sooner you accept it, the better.”
God, but he could be arrogant! “No way. I’ve been to hell and back because of you before and it’s not a place I’m in a hurry to visit again.”
He snorted. “You’ve got that wrong, koukla. You almost sent me to eternal damnation. You did everything you could to cause upheaval in my life. I meant nothing to you—I don’t believe that for a second—it was the challenge that I represented.”
You meant everything to me. You were my world, my universe, and you didn’t give a damn about me! But she didn’t say it aloud.
Instead she shook her head and laughed disbelievingly. “I’m not falling for this.”
What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to think? The man who stirred more emotion within her than she’d known existed wanted her. But he fiercely resented the need for her. She’d have to be stupid to take him up on it.
But she was incredibly tempted.
Fool!
Turning him down was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done. She cast around, struggling to find the words that would drive him away forever.
He reached over the table, covering her hand with his. “Would it help if I told you that over the past few days I’ve grown to admire you immensely? That I think you have courage and tenacity and a compassion that I am only starting to discover? That I’ve seen a caring side of you I never knew existed? That I’m starting to think that I may have judged you too harshly sometimes and that I’m sorry for that.”
His eyes glowed with sincerity and a warmth she’d never seen before. Underneath his hand, hers felt safe, protected.
Oh, God.
“That I’m starting to like you very much indeed. And that I’d like to get to know you better. Much, much better.”
Inside she’d turned to mush. His words pooled in the empty hole below her breastbone and created a warm glow. A hesitant joy started to blossom. She turned her hand upward and threaded her fingers through his.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “I rather think it would.” And she was half relieved, half frustrated when the waitress arrived at that moment with their main course.
They spent the balance of the meal exploring common interests, neither alluding to the bombshell Damon had dropped. Yet the knowledge of his declaration lay behind every glance, every exchange, and the air between them simmered.
He made her feel like a starry-eyed teenager on her first date. Ridiculous. She had to stop this. If Damon realised how bad she had it…
Rebecca laid her fork down with a clatter, glancing around to avoid meeting Damon’s eyes until she’d managed to mask the elated anticipation in hers.
The windows were covered with heavy navy drapes printed with pale flowers that should have looked awful but instead echoed the gardens outside. In the corner stood a grand piano, and along the walls hung exquisite paintings of country scenes. The high ceiling gave a light, airy feel to the place.
“You know,” she said suddenly, “this place would be perfect for the wedding.”
Damon looked around. A quick dismissive glance. Then she felt the heat as his gaze returned to her face. “You are probably right.”
She tried to ignore the pull of his attraction, focused on the idea she’d had.
“No probably about it. It is perfect!” Rebecca felt the familiar rising excitement which signified that a plan was coming together. “It would mean a smaller guest list than what your mother has planned. But it could work. This room would easily hold four hundred, and the covered veranda could seat another two hundred at least. The gardens are magnificent—Demetra would be in rhapsodies.”
She turned to Damon. The instant their eyes met, a shock of awareness arced between them. He gave a slow