Husband for the Holidays

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

E LOISE WAITED IN the bed while Konstantin brushed his teeth, telling herself this was no different than sharing the flat with her roommate where she took the sofa and her roommate had the murphy bed that came down from the wall.

This was very different, though.

This is what marriage would be like.

Routine intimacy. A shared bed during the most vulnerable time: sleep.

Going to bed together after a fight.

Not that they’d fought. No, it was worse than that. She had thrown herself at him and he’d turned her down again . They’d spoken in stilted tones after her bath, agreeing they should get some sleep. She’d waited until he was in the bathroom to take off the robe and put on her T-shirt and underwear to sleep in, then she’d climbed into bed and was trying to fall asleep by sheer willpower, hoping to be unconscious by the time he joined her.

The door opened and the light went off. Konstantin found his way to the bed. She didn’t know what he was wearing. Behind her, the covers lifted and the mattress dipped. The blankets settled and he exhaled.

She stared blindly at the paisley pattern she couldn’t really see in the wallpaper, trying not to move, but how was she supposed to sleep? She used to think about sharing a bed with him all the time . Sharing her body .

What diabolical biology made her obsess over him this way? She’d had plenty of offers from men over the years, but the kisses she’d invited had been pleasant rather than moving, the caresses more ticklish than erotic. No one had ever made her react the way she did to Konstantin, even though all she had with him were fantasies. She didn’t even know how to make love. She’d never done it outside her imagination and that had always been with the man in this bed.

She tried not to let her mind wander down those avenues, tried not to move, even though she wanted to look at the clock. She distracted herself with trying to predict what would happen tomorrow. She berated herself for not making more of an effort when she’d first gone back to university, then spent some time listing all the solves for the world’s current events. Nothing made her less aware of the man beside her.

Was he asleep? Or awake like her?

She couldn’t sleep. She felt ripe. She felt as though her skin were thin and sensitized, her blood flowing fast beneath it. Her erogenous zones pulsed a signal of yearning, calling out to him, inviting his touch.

Then, miraculously, his hand was between her thighs, both soothing and inciting. His hot body surrounded hers; his lips caressed her nape. He said something against her ear that she didn’t catch. She was too enthralled with the way he was sliding his touch between her folds. She was soaked and throbbing with arousal. His finger slid and teased and drew her closer and closer to climax, making her moan.

“Eloise.”

She snapped awake to the silver light of early morning. Konstantin loomed over her, propped on his elbow. His hand on her shoulder flattened her to the mattress.

“Are you having a nightmare?”

“No.” Her voice was throaty with the lust still gripping her.

He was close enough that she saw the way his pupils exploded, swallowing up the dark chocolate of his irises with inky black. His nostrils twitched and his gaze dropped to her mouth.

She reacted purely on instinct, not sure if it was dream or reality, but she rolled her hips toward him, reaching across to find his waist—his naked rib cage and the indent of his spine, inviting him closer.

With a noise that was half agony, half aggression, he dropped his head. His mouth capturing hers the way it had in Athens so long ago, with such ferocity she should have been alarmed, but she only curved closer while his hand swept behind her, drawing her even more fully under him.

If this was a continuation of the dream, she didn’t care. The feel of him was glorious. His smooth back was beneath her splayed hand. His heavy chest crushed her aching breasts. His tongue sought her own, spearing excitement through her.

When his naked leg brushed hers, she moaned in supreme pleasure and luxuriated in the feel of his leg hair against the inside of her thigh and calf. He reacted by pushing his knee with more purpose between hers, pressing the ironlike tension of his thigh firmly against her mound.

Stars of sensation shot through her. She clamped her thighs on his, rocking her hips to increase the pressure, arching and rubbing, thrilling when his hand ran to her bottom and clenched into her cheek, possessive and encouraging her to keep rolling and writhing—

Climax struck. It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t already been halfway there in her dream, but here she was, thrust into the explosive joy of orgasm. She might have scratched his back. She definitely moaned long and loudly into his mouth.

His whole body went taut. For long seconds, he held her in place, letting the waves of orgasm wash over her.

When it began to subside, he slowly, almost tenderly, lifted his mouth from her panting lips. He brushed a strand of hair off her eyelashes and asked in a lust-soaked voice, “Are you even awake?”

Reality crashed over her with such mortification she groaned, “No. I mean, yes, but—”

He was already leaving the bed, swearing as he threw back the covers and locked himself in the bathroom with a firm click of the door. The shower came on.

She rolled her face into the pillow and kicked her feet against the mattress, wishing she could run to the other side of the world.

Eloise was going to be the death of him, she really was.

Konstantin came out of a shower where he’d had to— had to —take himself in hand and relieve the urgency gripping him.

He found the room empty. Damn it . He knew he shouldn’t have touched her. Even as he had kissed her, a voice in his head had been bellowing that he should stop.

That kiss, though. He’d waited six long years to taste her again, telling himself he’d imagined how incredible she was, but that had been every bit as potent as he recalled. As he’d feared. She’d rolled into him and slid her leg along his and those signals of receptiveness had short-circuited his brain. There’d been no thought in his head except to plunder the mouth that was opening to him. To drag her closer and feel more of her.

When his thigh had notched against the cotton of her underwear, the heat of her had scorched his thigh, hardening him to acute anticipation. He had palmed her pert ass while she rolled her hips and then she had just dissolved .

It had been exquisite and exciting as hell, but that’s also when he realized she might not be fully aware she was in bed with him.

That thought was enough of a slap to regain control of himself, if not a cold enough shock to fully douse his arousal.

Who the hell had she been dreaming of, though?

The question grated in him as he hurried to dress, only realizing as he was pocketing his phone that there was a blurred shape standing on the balcony.

He yanked open the door. “What are you doing out here?”

“Questioning my life choices.” She had her coat collar turned up around her chin. Her eyes were big enough to swallow her face. “What are you doing?”

“Going down for breakfast. Do you want to come?” The moment the words emerged from his mouth, he heard the double entendre.

So had she. A fierce blush bloomed across her face.

He turned back into the room, leaving the door open for her. Normally, he dined in the privacy of his room, but they needed space and other people and the grating whine of a child who’d risen too early.

Otherwise, they would finish wrecking that damned bed.

Eloise didn’t want to talk about it, but had the impending sense that they should. Not that she was willing to bring it up in a busy dining room. All she managed to say was that her mother would serve at least three courses at lunch so they should eat lightly.

Konstantin nodded a curt acknowledgment, then ordered pastries and coffee for them. She kept her eyes on a French newspaper she stole off a nearby table. Konstantin exchanged messages with someone in a battery of muted buzzes from his phone.

This was excruciating. While she pretended to read, she was hyperaware of him. Her body was alternating between the heat of embarrassment and the heat of arousal. She couldn’t glance at his mouth without remembering how ravenous his kiss had been. Any small shift of his body reminded her of the imposing weight of him against her. When he absently cupped his coffee, she remembered the feel of his palm branding her bottom.

He’d been hard against her thigh, his heart slamming so hard she’d felt it against her breast. She’d been feeling sexy and desired and buttery with her receding climax when he’d asked her if she was awake.

Now he was Mr. Remote again, barely speaking to her.

“Do you need anything from the room?” he asked as they were finishing their second coffee. “My car is waiting.”

“We can’t go to Mom’s yet. She’ll still be in bed.”

“You need something to wear.” His tone was somewhere between patient and patronizing.

She looked down at the clothes he’d bought her in New York. They were a fast-fashion solution to an immediate problem and the few things she’d brought from the apartment were even more wrinkled and tired. She didn’t want to go further into his debt, but knew he was right. She couldn’t turn up like this.

“I just need my coat,” she murmured.

A short time later, Konstantin walked her into a busy salon where a stylist introduced herself as Ghaliya.

“I thought I was picking out a dress, not having a full makeover,” Eloise grumbled as she saw a nail tech preparing her station for her.

“You said you didn’t want Antoine to know how much you’ve struggled,” he pointed out dispassionately, eyes on the wall of nail polish arranged in bands like a rainbow.

“What sort of look are we going for today?” Ghaliya asked brightly as she returned from hanging Eloise’s coat. “Are you attending a holiday event? A special occasion perhaps?”

“Return of a prodigal daughter?” Eloise asked with a facetious quirk of her mouth in Konstantin’s direction. He might as well have some say, since he was paying for it.

“This isn’t an apology tour. It’s a triumphant return,” he stated firmly, then frowned. “Are you going to cut your hair?”

She shot a protective hand to the ponytail at her nape. “A trim, maybe. Why? Should I?” She’d worn it short through her teens and early twenties, only letting it grow out lately because she hadn’t had the will or funds to cut it. She had rediscovered she liked having long hair.

“With your features, a pixie or a bob would be very cute,” Ghaliya said with enthusiasm.

“ No ,” Konstantin said in firm refusal.

Eloise drew her brows in question, puzzled by his emphatic reaction.

“That length suits you,” he stated, cheek ticking even as he looked away. “But do whatever you want.”

“I used to wear it short, but I prefer it long.” Eloise played her fingers against her nape, not sure what to make of his opinion.

“It sounds like you know what you want,” Ghaliya said diplomatically. “Shall we get started? Did you want to make yourself comfortable, sir? We should be finished by eleven if you’d rather come back. We’ll be across the street at the boutique by then.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Konstantin held Eloise’s gaze as though he was waiting for her to confirm she would be okay if he left.

She nodded jerkily, kind of touched that he was so considerate, but also worried by how dependent she was becoming on him. Maybe she had more of her mother’s tendencies than she’d ever realized, because the minute he left, she felt abandoned.

On the other hand, given all that had happened since the elevator doors had opened in that New York high-rise two days ago, she desperately needed time and space away from him to process.

Ghaliya didn’t give her a chance to dwell on any of that, though. She distracted her with a thousand small decisions around hair, nails and makeup while keeping up a pleasant chatter of innocuous topics like celebrity gossip and the latest fashions.

Before Eloise knew it, she was in the boutique across the street, staring at someone who was both recognizable and a complete stranger.

Her hair had been highlighted and trimmed to create a gold frame around her face and generous waves had been pressed into it, making it look shiny and casually polished. The longer length and shape did suit her. Those old pixie cuts had made her eyes seem too big for her face, but with a subtle touch of makeup and an understated lipstick, the balance was just right.

For clothes, she chose a cashmere sweater in fern green over a wrap skirt with diagonal buttons on her hip. It left a good portion of her left leg bare, revealing her black tights and tall boots. She was trying a beret when Konstantin entered.

His imposing presence immediately soaked up all the oxygen in the exclusive shop, making the walls shrink in around her.

In an effort to move past all the awkwardness of this morning, Eloise turned and dropped her hand on her hip, throwing her weight to one side while pointing with her other hand at the hat. “Chic? Or overkill?”

The way his inscrutable gaze traveled all over her made her feel as exposed as a doe in a field, sending a small zing through her that urged her to run.

“Keep it,” he said in a deep voice. “It’s cold out.”

Practical , she noted with a twinge of letdown.

“Let me get you some jacket options,” the stylist murmured as she disappeared to another section of the small store.

Eloise turned back to the mirror and fiddled with the hat, surreptitiously glancing at Konstantin in the reflection, wondering if he was still cross with her over the way she’d behaved when they’d woken.

His gaze was caressing her butt!

A tingling sensation of his hand there had been torturing her all morning. Now a fresh rush of heat flooded into her loins as she remembered the satisfying sensation of his hard thigh pressing against the tender, throbbing flesh, tipping her into a place so delicious her mouth dried as she remembered it.

His gaze came up to meet hers in the mirror and she couldn’t make herself look away, even though she was accosted by the memory of moaning into his mouth, holding onto him as her body quaked.

Making it worse, he knew exactly what was in her mind.

“Who were you dreaming about?” he asked in a voice that sounded as though it originated in the bottom of his chest.

She flinched and was finally able to drop her gaze. “I don’t want to say.”

“Why not? I won’t be angry.”

Did he really imagine it could be anyone but him? She rolled her lips together, deeply culpable as she lifted a painful glance that was so revealing it made her cheeks and throat hurt.

She heard his sharp inhale, then Ghaliya bustled back.

“This one or...? Oh. Je m’excuse. I’ll leave you two alone,” she murmured and turned away, trying to escape whatever charged air was between them.

“No. We’re expected for lunch,” Konstantin said. “Has my assistant given you everything you need?”

“ Oui. Merci .” Ghaliya gave him a warm smile of appreciation. “And Mademoiselle Eloise has my card if she needs anything else. This one would be better, I think,” she added to Eloise, offering the shorter jacket.

Konstantin took it to hold it for her, making her feel clumsy as she threaded her arms into the sleeves.

She waited until they were in the car to say, “Thank you for all of this.” She waved from hair to shoes. She was genuinely grateful, feeling more confident and less like a petitioner begging for handouts. “Will you please send me the invoice? I know I’m a long way from paying you back, but—”

“And risk breaking your phone?” Konstantin drawled. He plucked something from the console between them and offered it. “This is for you, by the way.”

It was a new phone, one that was already activated. It was even in a pretty brushed gold case that had a designer’s initials etched into it.

“ Please don’t put me this far into your debt,” she bemoaned, tucking her fists into her lap rather than accept it.

“You’re being ridiculous. My number is in there. I expect you to use it whenever you need something.” He dropped the device into her lap.

She caught it so it wouldn’t slip to the floor, then found his number along with a second one for someone named Nemo , whoever that was. She texted Konstantin.

Please send me a copy of the invoice.

His phone dinged and he glanced at it, sighed, then sent her a flat look. “I only argue about things that matter, Eloise. This topic is closed.”

“I’ll ask Ghaliya, then.” She opened the faux snakeskin clutch to search out the stylist’s card.

“It’s a gift . What was that twelve days of nonsense you were doing? Consider it that.” He flicked his hand as though it were inconsequential.

“Goody. Seven more days of this?” She pressed her hands to her sandwiched phone and smiled with sarcastic excitement.

“Yes. Now I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Oh, this man. She bit back arguing further, though. The car was turning into the gates of her mother’s villa and the butterflies in her stomach became a swarm of bees that moved into her chest. She dropped the phone into her clutch and rubbed her damp palm onto her skirt.

Konstantin’s hand came across to capture hers. He frowned at how cold her fingers were.

“It will be fine. I promise.”

She wanted to believe him so she nodded as though she did.