Contractually Wed

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

A POLLO HADN ’ T MEANT to leave her to the curious, even aggressive in Camilla’s case, clutches of his family. He had just decided to bring her home, right before they had descended on them en masse.

But after, even though he’d taunted her that he wanted his wedding night, he’d sent her to his family home with his chauffeur, claiming a work emergency. Long past midnight, he had returned to his penthouse.

Whatever he thought he was escaping by sending Jia away, duplicitously no less, smacked him in the face when he walked in. From the vast sitting lounge where she’d spread around her sketching papers to the kitchen where she’d abandoned spice tins and tea boxes and chocolate hampers, to the large media room where her video game equipment lay scattered about, she had already stamped the space with her presence.

The silence without her was different from the one with her, and he realized how companionable even that had become between them. As if they were an old couple, married for fifty or so years, easy with each other in everything, like his grandparents were. Even the bathroom—week two she’d begun using the one attached to his bedroom, claiming a woman needed the more luxurious one—didn’t remain untouched. There was a box of tampons on the black granite.

He’d found her sobbing one evening, hair in a messy updo, pillows clutched to her chest while watching some old Bollywood flick. When he’d demanded to know what had upset her so, she’d stuffed more chocolate into her mouth and bit out that she always cried like that on her period and would he please leave her alone. He had sat by her, pretending to be absorbed in the colorful movie that he didn’t even understand, and then fascinated when she started explaining the convoluted plot, forgetting her usual frosty silence.

None of his sisters had ever complained or sobbed or made such a mess of themselves on their periods, he’d thought. But then, when had he had time for any of them, either growing up or after their father had died. For all he claimed to do for his family, he’d had very little to do with his own for the past two decades. Something Mama hadn’t missed pointing out in the three minutes they had talked to each other.

Several hairbrushes, a bottle of perfume and tubes of lipstick surrounded his sink, mocking him. He almost lifted the bottle of perfume to sniff it like some lovesick fool when he caught his reflection and stopped.

Walking back into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of wine and then discarded it. Even the damned wine reminded him of her. Remembering Jia got headaches from red wine, he’d already asked his housekeeper to stock more whites.

Then as he moved through his bedroom shedding his clothes and donning sweats, the source of his restlessness finally hit him.

I’m sorry for everything my father did to your family , she’d said.

No one could doubt her apology had been heartfelt, not Camilla. Not him. And yet, her words and her expression haunted him, holding up a mirror into which he didn’t want to look.

He’d thought telling her that his marrying her wasn’t meant as a punishment would be enough. But was that true of his intentions, or the impact it had caused on her life? Knowing her now, knowing how he’d uprooted her from her family, without even her familiar things, knowing he’d thrust her into the center of his family, knowing how prejudiced they would be against her, what was it if not punishment?

For close to two decades, he’d worked himself to the bone, neglecting his relationship with his mother and sisters, neglecting his own happiness and comfort, pursuing wealth and connection and power, with one goal in mind.

To ruin Jay Shetty’s company and his peace as he’d ruined theirs. To push him toward despair as he’d done to Apollo’s father. And along the way, he’d deemed it okay to include the old man’s family. He’d known Rina didn’t wanted to marry him but he hadn’t cared much about it because all it took was for her to naysay her own father, right?

Not his problem.

But now, when he remembered the ache in Jia’s face when they had all argued about her family as if she wasn’t standing right there, her easy, blunt honesty and her apology as she faced up to what her father had done when she’d been no more than a child, her flirty answers so that the coldness of their deal wasn’t exposed to his family... Apollo wondered at the sanity of what he had done. Wondered suddenly about all the possibilities of a future that he had stolen from Jia.

Did she have a boyfriend back home? A lover who was even now mourning her loss? What were her dreams, other than rescuing her useless family? Why didn’t she work for some other company instead of letting her brother pass off her work as his own? Why the desperate effort to save a family who seemed undeserving at best and loathsome at worst?

He knew nothing of her hopes and fears. But more importantly, with the little he did know, Apollo didn’t want to give her up.

She was Jay Shetty’s daughter, she owned the stock that Apollo needed, and she was one of the most innovative young architects he’d ever met, and keeping her as his wife would be a lifelong, painful thorn in the old man’s side. Especially since he would make sure that Jia shifted her allegiance completely toward him.

Anything less than complete surrender was unacceptable to him in his wife, on principle. But even more, from the woman he was fast becoming obsessed with.

All the fun, parties, peace and comfort, and even sex, that he’d given up in his twenties and most of his thirties, he would make up with her. The prospect of spoiling Jia and himself, of glutting himself on her, with her, breathed new life into his burned-out soul.

As he pushed his muscles beyond endurance on the rowing machine in the state-of-the-art gym—one place Jia hadn’t invaded because she claimed she was allergic to sweat—he shifted his view of this marriage he’d insisted on.

Whatever he had taken away from Jia, he was sure, was small and pathetic enough that he could replace it. He’d drown her in wealth and recognition and laurels for her work, lavish her with gifts and luxury, so much so that all that fierce loyalty she showed her undeserving family would soon be his.

He would have all of her, and he would make her happier than Jay ever had and that would be the best revenge.

Two days later, it was midafternoon when Apollo stepped out of the chopper he’d called in at the last minute. Usually, he enjoyed the two-hour-long drive from his headquarters in Athens to the eco-friendly mansion he had built for his family nearly eight years ago.

It was one of his favorite projects, a contemporary but warm design set on fifteen acres of land—a gift to his mother. Although she’d never been as happy or receptive about the gift as he’d expected her, even needed her, to be. Neither did he forget that she wouldn’t have even moved in if not for Camilla, who, after a nasty divorce that had left her with nothing, had wanted her boys to have a good life.

Christina, whose partner, Fatima, was a world-renowned artist and traveled quite a bit like him, had been the least challenging about accepting gifts from the wealth he had amassed. Among all of them, she was the outdoorsy one, and the idea of living on fifteen acres of land, surrounded by her family, held great appeal for her. Being the compassionate one, she was also the one who had tried to understand what had driven Apollo for so long, though she never quite supported him either.

Chiara, whose husband had failed at several businesses, had three children, and Apollo was more than happy to support her and her family.

And yet, he hadn’t visited the estate more than twice, and not once in the last two years.

As he walked the gravel path heading up to the mansion, he felt a strange elation in his gut, as if his return this time was more significant than it had ever been before. Was it because he had finally reached his goal of defeating the man who had ruined his family’s happiness? Or was it simply a need to see the woman who had occupied his thoughts for the last two days?

Whatever it was, Apollo decided he would accept the feeling, as another gift after his long struggle.

As soon as he crossed the threshold and walked into the large living area with its high ceilings and exposed beams, he heard her laughter—deep, husky and without reservation. Pleasure drenched him, a fist of need tightening his gut.

Sunlight streamed through the high windows, dappling the light furniture and dark hand-stained wood floors in beautiful contrasts. The scent of delicious food emanated from the open kitchen, where he could see his mother, Christina and Chiara fighting and shouting and slaving over the stove. Chiara’s husband was chopping vegetables.

Apollo had to take a small detour to see past the pillars into the cozy great room. Up on the opposite wall, the huge plasma screen TV showed off some role-playing game in high-definition color. And standing behind the coffee table with controllers in hand were Jia and Camilla’s sons on either side of her, whooping and squealing and shouting as they killed some many-pronged creature on the screen.

A short distance from them, caught between the kitchen and the living room, was Camilla, watching the trio with naked envy on her face. Apollo remembered his mom telling him that Camilla was having a hard time connecting with her sons, who were now sixteen, and were starting to ask more and more questions about their papa.

As if aware of Camilla’s gaze on her back, Jia turned and beckoned his older sister, holding out the controller. One of Camilla’s sons joked about his mother not knowing anything except handling a spatula in the kitchen. Jia paused the game and told him off with no hesitation.

Only then did Apollo allow himself to look at her properly.

His wife , it seemed, had an allergy to clothes and, Christos , he was determined to fix it. Cutoff denim shorts that covered her ass, thank the saints, but showed off her long, toned legs. Paired with a teeny-tiny crop top that left inches of flesh between the hem and the shorts, she looked like she could be an older girlfriend that one of his nephews was forever trying to show off.

Under the anime T-shirt, which Apollo realized belonged to his nephew, her colorful tattoos peeked out. Her hair was in a messy bun again. Stubborn strands kept falling into her face, which she pushed away with the back of her hand. Sunlight picked out the golden highlights in her hair, just as it shone on her skin.

She looked good enough to eat, and he was ravenous for a bite.

He walked into the lounge and landed a soft slap over his nephew’s shoulder. The monster thingy that Jia had almost killed on-screen ate her little elf avatar in one quick gobble, while she watched horrified, unmoving.

His other nephew groaned and burst into broken English about how they’d almost had him and why had Auntie Jia suddenly lost focus.

Grinning, Apollo leaned his head over her still, tense shoulder and grabbed the controller from her. She jerked as if his touch scalded her. He threw the controller to his nephew who caught it with nimble fingers. Then Apollo grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him.

She stumbled once as they passed the enormous kitchen and his mother and sisters called out greetings to him. He waved at them, barely adjusting his stride.

When they reached the open, hanging stairs past the corridor, Jia seemed to come to herself and dug in her feet. “What happened? Where are we going?”

“Which one is our bedroom?” he said, going down one step so that he could look at her. The steps were made of wood and hung unsupported on one side, opening out into the other living room, while the glass walls on the opposite side gave magnificent views of the wild gardens outside.

Industrial-size pendant lights cast a soft glow as evening slowly gave way to pitch-black night.

“The big one with the attached suite on the second floor,” Jia added almost automatically. “Your mother said they saved it for you and your wife.”

“Perfect. Come.”

“Why?” she said, watching him with wide eyes. Her mouth was soft and pink and reminded Apollo of how much he liked sweet and tart strawberries.

“There’s something I would like to show you.”

Doubt shone across her face. “In the bedroom?”

“Ne.”

“And it can’t wait?”

“ Ohi.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood to see anything. You send me here with them, ignore me for two days and then show up here, demanding I...pay attention to you? No! I was in the middle of a game and then Maria was going to show me how to cook this dessert I love, and Christina and I planned to watch a horror flick, and Chiara said she’d do my nails. I’m not pushing all that off because Your Arrogant Highness has decided he wants to show me something.”

“Fine,” he said, leaning closer. Christos , just the scent of her was enough to twist him into a mass of need. The red rose undertone to whatever she used...it had begun to linger on his clothes, around the sheets and towels, and damn if he hadn’t begun to chase it all across his penthouse like a junkie. “I’ll simply order them to not do any of those things with you until you attend to me.”

“Attend to you? You’re not my bloody—”

“I have a wedding gift for you.”

Her eyes widened and her lovely mouth fell open. She was all lean, taut curves but her mouth...it was wide and lush and utterly sensuous. And he loved how she melted when he licked it, how she jerked when he nipped it. “You do?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s what you want to show me?”

“Among other things.”

She blushed then and it was the most glorious sight Apollo had ever seen. Her gaze slipped to the small gift bag in his hands and then back to his eyes, via a lingering detour at his mouth. Her soft exhale coasted over his lips, taunting.

The little frown was back between her feathery brows and he swallowed an impatient curse. Only now did he understand what a distrustful creature she was. Just like him. “Why can’t you show it to me in front of everyone?”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you. But if you prefer—”

“No, they’re already teasing me because I made up all that stuff in your office,” she said, stepping down and then walking up with him.

He hid his grin. “ Why did you make up all that stuff? Why hide the reality of what this is?”

“Your mother and sisters...” A soft, almost wondrous note entered her voice. “I could tell at one glance how lovely and kind they are. How much they adore you. My family already thinks I’ve betrayed them. There was no point in letting yours see what a monster you are.”

“I thought I was a villain, not a monster.”

“Interesting that you see the distinction.”

He laughed and like clockwork, her gaze clung to his mouth.

“Tell me.”

A breathy sigh. “A monster can’t help acting on his instincts.”

“Ahh... I’m growing in your estimation.”

She shrugged, just as they reached the landing and then started up the second set of stairs. “This home... Maria told me you designed and built it. For her.”

It was his turn to shrug.

“I spent the first day just exploring all the clever little nooks and crannies. Every inch of it gets natural light. And, oh, my God, that office on the ground floor... You used the wood from the trees that were cleared to make space for the home, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “We used every inch of it that we took from the land.”

Not even a sunbeam could match the brilliance of her smile. “It’s the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen, Apollo. Like, if I was given a choice where to live the rest of my life, it would be here.”

He was stunned enough to stare at her. This time, the pleasure that filled him was...different, almost insidious in nature, creeping and settling into places and pockets he hadn’t realized were empty in him.

“What?” she demanded as he continued to stare at her. “No one can deny you’re a brilliant artist. Although, you haven’t done anything like this in the last few years, right?”

“Something like this?” he said, awed at this woman who so easily saw through to his burnout that no one, not even Christina, had seen.

“This place is kind of magical. Your latest designs are much more...commercial and soulless.”

“Ouch,” he said, laying a hand on his chest.

“Tell me about how the solar panels work. All the glass must make it cool in winter but I saw that there’s no central heating.”

It was the last thing Apollo had expected her to ask him. No one in his family had realized how special this project was to him. Which was why Mama’s almost instant rejection and continued refusal had hurt so much. “My father was the one who did the initial designs,” he said, finding his voice suddenly rusty.

Jia smiled, running her hands over the dark wood banister. “I thought it had an old-world charm to it. You know, I’ve looked at some of his plans for the eco-cabins they were designing back then. I found them in the archive’s office...” She slowed down when he didn’t respond. “My mother used to talk about him sometimes. I was curious enough that I went to the archives.”

Shock suffused him enough that he simply stared. When a regretful look came into her eyes, he hurried on. “I didn’t realize they were still there.”

“She hadn’t been exaggerating. Your father was...had a very unique touch.”

He gave her a nod, unable to speak past the sudden lump in his throat.

“So this home...you modified the initial plan?”

Apollo told her, at length, as they walked up the second set of stairs. With each word he said, and each step they took toward their suite, and each memory he unlocked, some hard, petrified thing in his chest cracked wide-open. And he found himself breathing deep and long, as if he’d been only half-alive until now.

It was easy, and a strange kind of wonderful, to talk to Apollo about the design of the house.

Jia had never fallen in love faster or deeper in her entire life. It was as if the house was a physical culmination of all the dreams she hadn’t even allowed herself to feel.

The high ceilings, the exposed wood beams and pillars, the open expansiveness of the plan...even the hand-stained hardwood floors and the lighting fixtures, every inch of it spoke of the attention and love he’d poured into the house. More than anything else, it spoke of the man and the beat of his heart.

Which had then made her feel foolish because Apollo Galanis had no heart and what was more proof than the fact that he’d not only kept her identity secret for three weeks among his staff, but then dumped her with his family, while he did God knows what for two days.

And now here he was, demanding attention, dangling a gift in front of her face just when she was determined to hate him all over again. Or better, become indifferent to him.

She walked into the vast bedroom suite, which had glass for ceiling and three walls, enchanted by it all over again when she realized he’d fallen silent behind her.

“You like the house, then?” he said so softly that for a second Jia wondered if she was imagining the sliver of vulnerability in it. But his eyes remained hard and inscrutable. There she was again, projecting her own feelings into his words.

“I do,” she said, wanting desperately to find that sliver again when she shouldn’t. “Is there a reason you haven’t let anyone photograph it?”

Leaning against the closed door, he shrugged.

Jia didn’t miss that he did that when he didn’t want to answer a particular question.

When he lifted the small bag in his hand, excitement beat a thousand wings in her belly. The unnerving intensity of his gaze as it swept over her, up and down, sent a shiver through her. “Is it a guilt gift or pity gift?” she said, brazening it out.

He cocked a brow, arrogance dripping from the very gesture.

“Guilt because you did something you shouldn’t have in the last two days. Pity because you ignored me and feel sorry for me.”

He threw his head back and laughed with such abandon that she felt helpless against the sensuality of it. A river of longing ripped through her. She stared at the corded column of his throat, the deep grooves around his mouth, the way his thick, rigidly cut curly hair flopped onto his forehead.

He looked...heart-meltingly gorgeous and he was hers, that foolish voice whispered. When his laughter died down, it still colored his eyes, making them warm and deep.

“Well, which is it?”

“I want no one but you, Jia. I’m committed to this marriage.”

“So pity, then,” she said, some unknown thing fluttering in her chest at the resolve in his eyes. “Not needed because, honestly, I like your family. I’d even say the appeal of this marriage increased tenfold when I count them all in the package.”

He placed his palm on his chest, mock-flinching. “You don’t like being ignored.”

“I don’t like that you control everything in this relationship.”

“And yet, I wasn’t the one who executed the Three-Week Frost,” he quipped with a mock shiver.

“You made up a name for it?” she said, laughing despite her intention to stay strong.

“It was the coldest I’ve ever been in my life.”

And now, she was the one melting...

He pushed off from the door with a deliberate grace that sent her heart thundering in her chest. It was ridiculous to flee because she wasn’t scared of him but she took a step back. Eyes now a molten gray, he stalked her across the vast room. When her bare feet touched the cold wood past the rug under the bed, he took a detour to turn the fireplace on. Another thing she’d noted—how he took care of the smallest thing that caused her discomfort, how he was always watching out for her.

Then he was there, caging her against the dark wood bookshelves, which lined the only wall that wasn’t glass. “Jia Galanis...scared of a little gift?”

She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin. “I’m not scared of you or anything you do.”

“Then open it.”

She took the bag, made a face at him when he laughed at her trembling hands. Her heart decided to take on Olympic speed as she pulled out a dark blue velvet box. She wasn’t a huge jewelry person but this was a gift. And she could count on one hand the number of gifts she’d received in her life. Most were before her mom had died when she’d been thirteen.

Slowly, she undid the latch on the box and there, nestled in a soft, velvety cushion was a thin, exquisitely made gold necklace with tiny, detailed leaves and a teardrop sapphire in the midst. It was exactly like the one piece of jewelry she’d coveted all her life but wasn’t allowed to have.

Tears filled her eyes and a strange urgency beat at her. The necklace almost got twisted in her trembling fingers before Apollo steadied them. When he lifted it, to put it around her neck, Jia jerked away. “I want to put it back in the box before I...break it.”

“Jia—”

“Put it back, Apollo,” she said, nearly yelling.

“Okay,” he said in a tender voice that threatened to break her apart. Then, as she watched like a vulture circling prey, he nestled it back into the box and closed the clutch.

Jia grabbed the box from him with a proprietorial jerk, opened her little backpack and shoved it inside. When she straightened, he was at her back, crowding her with his broad, lean frame. His arms came around her waist, his large palms resting on her belly, and without her meaning to, without her permission, her body relaxed into his hold.

She allowed herself the luxury of his tender embrace for a few moments. “Where did you...how...”

“I asked Rina about your interests. She’s feeling guilty enough that she stole into your father’s locker and photographed it for me. I commissioned the piece. I was waiting to pick it up before I flew here.”

She looked up sideways and his gaze caught her as easily as if she was a floundering fish. “Why?”

“I wanted to give you something that you would like. Giving you something that you’d never been allowed to touch was better. I didn’t expect to make you cry,” he added in a droll voice that didn’t quite mask his concern.

Jia hesitated, reluctant to answer the hidden question. But he’d taken a step toward making this more than a cold, business arrangement, hadn’t he? This gift and those words in his office...as much as it terrified her, she knew it was time she took a step too. At least, in her own head and heart. “That piece was my mom’s. My father gave it to her. She wore it for special occasions only. She’s...” her voice broke just at those two words “...she’s the closest thing to my heart.”

“Tell me about her.”

She shook her head.

“Jia...”

“No. Some things are too precious to taint as ammunition between us.”

He stiffened around her, his disappointment as visceral as the thundering beat of her heart. “Your wants and your fears and your dreams,” he said, repeating the words she’d thrown at him on the flight. “You guard them as if they were a treasure.”

But Jia didn’t relent. Couldn’t. “They are foolish and simple. Of no value to you.”

“This was a horrible gift, then,” he said with a scoff, releasing her.

Jia turned and fisted her fingers in his shirt, refusing to let him go. “No, it isn’t. It’s...the best gift anyone’s given me. Especially since I know my father will never let me have the original.” When he looked doubtful, she hid her face in his chest and breathed him in. He was solid and hard and warm, his heart thundering under her cheek. And now, she wanted to take a thousand more steps toward him. “I don’t want to fight with you. Not after you gave me such a...special gift.”