Irresistible Greeks: Unsuitable and Unforgettable: At His Majesty's Request / The Fallen Greek Bride / Forgiven but not Forgotten?. Jane Porter
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never heard a whispered rumor that you were anything but.”
He looked out into the darkness, at the black ocean, moonlight glittering across the choppy surface. “I know. Because I don’t slip up. Ever.”
He had, though. He had slipped up with her. He had let go of his control, control he’d been forced to cultivate when he’d been named heir to the throne. He’d let go of it completely in those moments his lips had touched hers. Not control against physical desire, but the control he kept so tightly over his feelings.
Jessica laughed, a sad, hollow sound. “I’m certain I do. Sometimes.”
“What about you, Ms. Carter?” he said. “What are you hiding?” He turned to her, studying her face in the dim light. It seemed imperative to know her secrets. And he wasn’t certain why it would be. But just like last night, he was going to let his guard drop. Just for a moment. Just to follow that heavy, aching feeling in his chest. To give it some satisfaction.
The corners of her mouth twitched slightly. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Warmth spread through him. In him. An alien feeling. One he was compelled to chase for the moment. “And that would create an international incident.”
“It would prick my conscience as well, so maybe I should keep it to myself,” she said, a small curve in her lips. It wasn’t really a smile, though. It was too sad for that. “Better question, if you could be anything, I mean, if the whole world was open to you, what would you be?”
He frowned. “If I wasn’t in line to rule Kyonos?”
“If you weren’t royal at all. If you could have anything you desired, without obligation, what would you do?”
It was the thing he never let himself wonder. The alternate reality that wasn’t even allowed in his dreams. But he was cheating now. Cheating on his own standards for himself.
For a fleeting moment, he had a vision of a life that was his own. A life with a woman of his choosing, in a home of his choosing. With children who wouldn’t know the pain, the responsibility of a royal lineage depending on them. With love.
He shoved the image aside. “I would run my corporation,”
he said. He had a sudden image of sailing a ship around the world and wondered if he’d told the truth.
“Would you get married?” she asked, a strange tone to her voice.
“Yes,” he said, the answer almost surprising him. But in that little, warm hint of fantasy, there had been a wife. There had been kids. And it wasn’t hard to breathe. “Yes,” he said again.
“Hmm.” She turned and walked to the end of the terrace, resting her hands on the railing.
He followed her, standing behind her, watching the sea breeze tug wisps of hair from her updo, letting them fall around her neck. He wanted to brush them aside. To kiss her shoulder. Her neck. Not just because he wanted her, but to feel connected to her.
A deadly desire.
“Why do you do it?” she asked. “Why is this so important?”
She was asking for more honesty. For answers he wasn’t sure he had. “I … When my mother died things fell apart. And the one thing that seemed real, that seemed to matter, was Kyonos. It was the one thing I could fix. The one place I could … matter.”
As he spoke the words, he realized that they were true. That every change he’d made, every effort he’d put forth, had been not just about helping his country, but about finding new purpose for himself.
“What about you?” he asked, ready to shift the spotlight off of himself.
She didn’t speak for a long time. When she did, she spoke slowly, cautiously. “In this scenario, reality isn’t playing a part, right?”
“Right,” he said, voice rough. He waited for her next words, anticipated them like a man submerged beneath the waves anticipated breaking the surface, desperate to take a breath.
She lowered her head, her eyes on her hands. “I would be a wife. A mother …” Her voice broke on the last word. “And maybe I would still do this, or maybe not. I don’t know if I would … need it. But … I would be a mother.”
She pushed off from the railing. “Back to reality,” she said, trying to smile. Failing. “I’m going to bed.”
He nodded, watching as she walked past him.
I would be a mother.
There was something so sad, so defeated in the admission. It made his chest tighten, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. He’d never had someone else’s feelings inhabit his body in this way. But he was certain that’s what was happening. That the oppressive weight that had just invaded him was the same sadness that filled her.
Maybe Jessica wasn’t as happily divorced as she appeared to be. And maybe she wasn’t quite as hard as she appeared to be, either.
She was running interference for Stavros and his harem today, and she wasn’t all that thrilled about it. It was getting harder to chuck other women in his direction when she just wanted to throw herself at him.
Not happening, but still. She was so envious of her clients that she was developing a twitch.
And for heaven’s sake, she never should have said all that about being a mother. Should never have asked him what he wanted. Should never have tried to get to know him. Because it didn’t matter. It just didn’t. There was no point in suspending reality, even for a moment.
There was no escaping reality. You couldn’t outrun it. You could try but eventually it would bite you in the ass. She knew that. She knew it really, really well. She’d tried to ignore how often she and her husband went to their separate corners of the house. She’d tried to ignore his touch at night, and when she couldn’t, she tried to ignore his total disregard for her pain. She’d even tried to ignore his outright berating of her. The screaming and anger and hateful words.
No, there was no point in ignoring that kind of thing. The facts were simple. Stavros needed certain things, she didn’t have any of them.
Why was she even thinking about that crap? She didn’t have time for it. She had a gaggle of women to manage for the whole day.
She blew out a breath and slipped her oversize sunglasses onto her face, tightening her hold on her latte. She had gotten them all booked into a luxury salon in Piraeus, and they were all safely getting massaged and waxed as she stood out on the crowded, narrow streets drinking her coffee.
Stavros was coming soon. He was meeting the group of them for a quick lunch and tour around the city, and then he would be selecting the woman who would accompany him on a private date for the evening.
And it would be up to Jessica to send the other two off without making them feel like it really was some low-rent reality television show.
Jessica wasn’t used to feeling like things were out of her control. Not since that moment four years ago when she’d taken back the reins of her life. She liked to feel like she had everything managed. Like her little universe was in the palm of her hand.
It was an illusion, and she knew it, but she still liked it.
Since Stavros, she didn’t even have her illusion.
What was it about him that reminded her … that reminded her she was a woman? Not just on the surface, but really and truly. With a woman’s desires, no matter how hard life had tried to wring them out of her.
Oh, dear … right on time. The master of her rekindled sexual needs was striding toward her. Cream-colored jacket and trousers, shirt open at the collar. She did love a man who knew how to dress. A Mediterranean sex god with very expensive taste.
He also had two dark-suited members of security flanking him and discreetly parting the crowd