Husband for the Holidays

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

E LOISE WAS STILL distracted by that glimpse into Konstantin’s psyche as she followed him out to the sitting room.

He let in the jeweler who introduced himself as Girard Pascal. He was somewhere in his thirties and very handsome in a tailored blue suit that set off the dark brown of his complexion. One of his bodyguards stayed outside the door while the other entered and swiftly checked each room before stationing himself against a wall near the door.

The reason for the precaution was obvious once Girard unlocked his case and set out his trays containing millions of euros’ worth of diamond jewelry.

“Oh, my.” Eloise couldn’t help sinking onto the settee, dazzled by the array.

“I can make a custom piece if you don’t see anything that suits,” Girard offered.

“By tomorrow night?” Konstantin asked as he lowered beside her.

“That would be difficult.” Girard closed one eye. “I can definitely resize any of these by tomorrow, though.”

“We’ll need that. Look at these piano fingers.” Konstantin picked up her hand to caress her fingers, then perused the selection. He chose one and slid it onto her finger.

“What do you think?”

Her heart started to thud even before she got a proper look at it. So many long-suppressed notions were raging back to life, all as vivid and insubstantial as the flash of rainbows from the marquis-shaped stone. It had to be five carats and was surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds. More were set down the sides of the platinum band.

Konstantin left her hand draped over his, lightly grasping her curled fingertips as he tilted their grip, allowing the ring to shoot out its sparks from all angles. It was unique and extravagant and yes, a little loose, but so beautiful, Eloise could hardly speak.

“No? Something else?” Konstantin started to release her.

Her fingers instinctually tightened to keep hold of his hand.

His dark gaze lifted to crash into hers, reaching deep into her soul and wrapping around all those deeply embedded dreams of hers.

If she went through with marrying him, she would give up every vestige of herself to him. She knew she would. She would offer her heart and he would take it and could very easily break it. So very easily.

But there was another hidden, hopeful part of her that wanted to think maybe, just maybe, this was the chance she’d always yearned for. That this could be a real marriage to the only man she’d ever wanted.

“You’ll wear this one?” Konstantin prodded gently.

She knew what he was really asking. Will you marry me?

She nodded before she realized she was doing it, then her husky voice caught up. “I will.”

Her fingers trembled as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

As he sent Girard away to size the ring, Konstantin experienced a conflicting tide of reactions. Intense satisfaction was the primary one. He had always seen marriage as an encumbrance, but the rationale for this one kept growing. Along with balancing the karmic scales, he would gain a partner who would suit him in many ways—including sexually.

Contrary to what Eloise seemed to think, he did want her. Very badly, in fact. His desire was like a panting beast inside him, ready to run her to ground if necessary.

Which gave him pause. These overly strong responses she provoked were the reason he’d avoided her. He had known since that long ago Christmas that she was far too capable of disarming him when he least expected it.

He would have to be careful, he cautioned himself, and keep a cool head. But even as he turned back to an empty sitting room, and heard a rustle from her bedroom, his libido leaped with intrigue, frying his brain cells.

No. When he arrived in the open door, he found her rifling through the bags that surrounded the bed.

“Call the maid to unpack everything,” he told her.

“I’m looking for the jeans I was wearing this morning. Ghaliya said they would be returned. Good grief, Konstantin.” She abandoned one bag and picked up another. “This is more damage than I ever did on a back-to-school shopping spree in Paris.”

“What of this soiree of your mother’s tomorrow? She said it wasn’t fancy. I’ll wear a suit?”

“She meant it’s not white tie. You’ll need a tuxedo. I’ll call Ghaliya and tell her I need a gown. Are we really doing this?” she asked with distress, looking up from the bag she was searching.

“The party?”

“Marriage.” She rubbed her eyebrow. “I mean, I guess the engagement will give us time to see if we actually work, but that comes with certain risks.”

“Such as?”

“The ones my mother warned me about. If we...” She waved at the bed. “I don’t want to be in my father’s situation, where I have a baby with someone who has all the money so I get cut out.”

“That will never happen.” What kind of man did she think he was?

“You don’t want children?” She dropped her hand to her side, seeming shocked. Disappointed?

“I meant that I can’t see us being in such a bad place that I would refuse to let you see our child. I’ve never given much thought to having any, to be honest. Not beyond the fact I’ve been told that I should, as part of my succession plan.”

“Who stands to inherit now?” She picked up a different bag and set it on the bed.

“I have a foundation that administers to a number of charities.”

“You don’t have any other relatives?” She paused. “Who’s your emergency contact?”

“My assistant.” It had seemed perfectly reasonable until he saw her appalled expression. “Now I’ll have you.” It was another point in the pro column for marriage. “Why? Where do you stand on children?”

“I’ve always wanted at least two.” She hitched her shoulder self-consciously. “So they would be friends the way Ilias and I were.”

A pang struck inside him, similar to nostalgia, but different. It was a glimpse of a future that he suddenly wanted. Which wasn’t like him. He didn’t yearn . Especially for something so nascent and fanciful. He brushed the vision aside.

“We can start on that whenever it suits you.”

She had found the jeans and paused in shaking them out. She looked to the bed with consternation. The tension around her eyes denoted genuine apprehension.

His mind flooded with those things she’d said about overbearing men and spiked drinks. His gut knotted up.

“If you have concerns about having sex with me, tell me so we can address it,” he said quietly.

“Oh, why do you need to know everything about me?” she asked plaintively, shaking the jeans again.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, aware he needed to proceed delicately, but that wasn’t his strong suit.

“The irony isn’t lost on me that I’ve told you flat out I don’t like to talk about myself so I can’t expect you to be an open book.” He did, though. He had a ravenous need to know everything about her, which was strange. “For what it’s worth, I’ve shared more with you in the last few days than I’ve told anyone in years.”

A little choking snort noise came out of her.

He lifted a self-deprecating shoulder. “I don’t like the memories that are in my head. Why would I put them in yours?”

Her brow crinkled with concern, which made the inside of his chest itch. He looked to the window so she wouldn’t see more than he could stand to reveal.

“If we’re going to be married, we’ll have to share more with each other than we would with anyone else.” That combination of intimacy and intensity already wasn’t comfortable. It made his nostrils sting with a sense of threat, which was ridiculous. What was she going to do? Waterboard him into revealing his favorite color? He knew how to set boundaries and would. “But I won’t force you to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“You’ll find out eventually, anyway,” she mumbled toward the floor. “So I’ll just say it.” She was blushing bright red. “I’m a virgin. Okay?”

He had one of those discordant moments where his grasp of English seemed to fail him. Was there a different meaning to that word? Because it didn’t compute with his assumptions about her.

“ How old are you?”

“It’s your fault,” she threw at him before turning her back on him to sit on the bed and work off her boots.

That took him aback. “How?”

“By being all mysterious and good-looking! You know I had the worst case of puppy love.” She kept her back to him as she stood and skimmed her legwear down from beneath her skirt. “You think boys my age held any interest for me when I had you on the brain?”

“I wasn’t trying to encourage that.”

“Yes, I know that,” she said in a supremely maddened voice. She stepped into the jeans and gave a little hop. “You rejected me enough times—”

“Because—”

“I know .” The bunched skirt was whisked away and she finished closing her fly. “It doesn’t mean I didn’t keep thinking about you. It’s not like I wanted to have sex with anyone after Ilias, anyway,” she allowed sullenly, turning to face him. “But even when I was at university...” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “When I was just this awful mess and couldn’t seem to function, I thought, Konstantin would never want someone like this, and it got me out of bed.”

Her words were a punch in the chest. He winced, breathing her name, but maybe it was a plea for her to stop because this hurt. It hurt to think of her struggling and thinking of him and he hadn’t been there .

“I know that sounds stupid, but I needed something to shoot for. I needed to believe that if I got myself together, then I would see you one day and we’d be on equal footing. You’d finally see me and want a relationship with me. Something real. I wanted you to fall in love with me. Instead, it’s this .” Her hand waved aimlessly, voice cracking. “A convenient marriage for sex because I don’t have my act together. And that sucks.”

Oh, hell. Those weren’t tears in her eyes. His stomach dropped.

She moved to the night table and blew her nose, taking a shaken breath.

“I’m realizing that I’ve been nursing a crush on a man I invented. It wasn’t you . I don’t even know you. Not really. But I do want to have sex with you. Obviously.” Her expression flexed with deep vulnerability. “And I’ve never wanted to have sex with anyone else so...”

So she would accept his terms.

She was right. There was something very flat and disappointing in this bloodless arrangement.

“But it’s happening really fast.” She had her arms wrapped around her torso, supremely defensive.

“We can wait.” They were the hardest words he’d ever spoken. Literally hard. He swallowed.

“Are you mad?”

“No.” He could use a beat to assimilate all of this, though. He didn’t have a fetish around being anyone’s first. A lack of experience with sex was no different than never having jumped out of a plane before. Or eating ice cream. It was something that hadn’t been tried before. That’s all.

But he would be the one to jump out of that plane with her. To show her how it was done. And he wanted her to love it.

“No, I appreciate your honesty.” He did. Even though it was making his head swim. “I need to make some calls.”

We can wait.

For how long? Eloise wanted to call the question to his back. How much long er ?

She didn’t have the nerve to ask, unwilling to face yet another rejection.

She barely saw Konstantin until they were ready for her mother’s party the next evening. She went back to see Ghaliya about her gown, then they dined at the restaurant where they were interrupted by someone he was loosely acquainted with. Afterward, he went to the gym to workout. She had fallen asleep before he got back.

The next morning, she had a fitting, then spent an hour on video chat with her New York roommate who was using the windfall from Konstantin to move to California. Under Eloise’s direction, her roommate whittled Eloise’s few possessions down to a small box that their neighbor agreed to post when Eloise had a permanent address.

Then she’d been tied up with Ghaliya again, having her hair and makeup done while Konstantin disappeared to pick up her ring.

When she met him in the sitting room, she was nervously petting the rich velvet of her dark mulberry gown.

“Wow.” The flicker of his gaze from her eyebrows to the hem of her gown made her prickle all over.

“It’s too much, isn’t it? Between my size and the late notice, I didn’t have much to choose from.” She never would have picked something so sexy. The soft fabric hugged her arms and waist and hips before spilling wide around her legs. The low neckline cut over the top of one shoulder and fell off the other. It was outlined in delicate silver lace that added wintery sparkle.

“I think you look incredible. Will you come here, please?” He picked up the ring box from the table beside the sofa and opened it.

She didn’t know why his grave tone made her ankles wobble on the six-inch heels as she moved toward him.

He looked incredible, too. His tuxedo jacket was ivory with a black shawl collar and accentuated his wide shoulders and the taper to his waist and long legs.

When she was eye level with his bowtie, she realized, “It matches my dress.”

“I told Ghaliya to find me one that would.”

Eloise was absorbing what a cute gesture that was when Konstantin stole a cushion off the sofa and dropped it to the floor. He lowered to one knee upon it.

“What—?” Her voice failed her and she clutched at her closing throat. He couldn’t be doing what she thought he was doing.

He held out his hand in a request for hers. “I disappointed you yesterday. I want you to have a better story to tell, when people ask you how I proposed.”

She bit her lips together, so touched she couldn’t speak, only blink to keep the welling tears in her eyes.

“I’ve never wanted to marry anyone, Eloise. But I want to marry you. That is the truth. Will you marry me?”

He sounded so sincere, her vision blurred. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup,” she said on a sniff.

“No,” he chided and stood to pluck a tissue from the box he must have placed on the end table for exactly this reason. “I really can’t bear tears, glikia mou . That is something you need to know about me.” He touched her chin to tilt her face up and dabbed the tissue into the corners of her eyes, his expression very somber. “I will try not to make you cry. I promise you that. It hurts too much.”

“Oh, you’re making it impossible to not .” She stole the tissue and pressed it under her nose, then fanned her eyes, blinking and fighting the press of emotion. “This was really thoughtful.” She had to clear the thickness from her throat. “Thank you.” In so many ways, this was her dream come true. Could she really complain if it wasn’t exactly perfect? “I would be honored to marry you, Konstantin.”

“Good.” He slid the cool ring onto her finger.

It felt heavier this time. Firmer. More real. It made her heart still, but in a good way. As though it came to rest after a long, long journey.

He looped his arms behind her.

Her hands went to his lapels, still nervous, but quivering with delight at having the right to touch him.

She looked up at him, expecting him to kiss her, but he only caressed the edge of her jaw with his bent finger.

“I’ve just been cautioned not to ruin your makeup.” He dipped his head into her throat and nuzzled his lips against her skin.

She gasped and shivered. Her nipples stung and her knees grew weak.

“I like this height.” His breath pooled near her ear, fanning the arousal taking hold in her. “But I don’t like these earrings.”

“No? Why not?” They were oversized gold hoops that she’d chosen so they wouldn’t detract from her gown or engagement ring.

“I didn’t buy them for you.”

“You did actually—oh.”

He had another box in his hand. This one held pear-shaped yellow sapphires dangling from round diamond studs.

“Now I just feel spoiled,” she admonished.

“Good. That’s what I’m aiming for.”

She didn’t know what to make of that. Her hand shook as she changed out the earrings.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she moved to the mirror and touched the weight of each one, ensuring they were secure. “They’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

This was surreal. Too perfect. Like a Christmas miracle.

Not that she believed in such things, but maybe, just for tonight, she could.

A hush fell over the crowd as they entered the party. The wall between the front parlor and the great room had been opened and the furniture moved to the sides, creating a ballroom. While her mother and Antoine greeted them at the entrance, everyone paused to smiled and offer a polite round of applause.

“I’ve shared your exciting news with our guests,” her mother said cheerily. “Oh, you look beautifully festive, darling.” She stepped back from pressing their cheeks to admire her gown. “And, Konstantin. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.”

“I could have sworn I did that, ma chère ,” Antoine said smoothly, but Eloise heard the edge in his tone. He caught Eloise’s hand, bringing it up so he could inspect the ring with a cynical curl to his lip. His gaze touched her earlobe before drilling into hers. “Buttering all sides of your bread, I see.”

“I thought you’d be pleased to see me make such an advantageous match. For the family,” she added with a saccharine smile and subtly tried to extricate her hand from his grip.

His hold tightened, not painful, but to show her that he would decide when to let her go, not her. After a charged second of warning, he released her and shook Konstantin’s hand before turning his attention to whoever was coming in behind them.

Fresh nerves attacked when they moved into the heart of the party.

As the daughter of Lilja Drakos and the sister of Ilias Drakos, Eloise had always been accepted—maybe tolerated was a better word—by her mother’s peers. She was illegitimate and only a half sister to the heir of the Drakos fortune, not in line for any money of her own, so she’d never deserved much attention, good or bad. Which suited her. She wasn’t built for notoriety.

Konstantin was very well-known, of course. He hadn’t been kidding when he had claimed she would have influence as his wife, either. Even as his just-announced intended, she had more cache than she’d ever imagined. People who would, in the past, expect her to come to them, were suddenly coming forward to congratulate them, vying for her attention and an introduction to her powerful husband.

They circulated for well over an hour, making small talk and deflecting prying questions. It was a relief when her mother and Antoine finally started the dancing, taking the attention off them.

Then Konstantin took her in his arms and Eloise was aware of only him and the music, nothing else. His hands were sure on her, his steps smooth and perfectly on tempo. The solidness of his shoulder and the brush of his thighs and the fading spice of his aftershave all put her into a spell where she let herself believe, just for a moment, that her life was turning out exactly as she had always wanted it to.

“Are you going to play?” Konstantin asked.

“Hmm?” She lifted her gaze to see he was looking toward the piano where a serious young man in wire-rimmed glasses and a suit vest over striped trousers was mastering the instrument. “No.” The ensemble of five was expertly moving from background classical to waltzes and contemporary instrumentals, interspersing them with a few Christmas carols. “Having an audience was always my stumbling block. I had ten years of classical lessons so I can get through a performance if I have to, but I don’t enjoy playing for crowds. I do it for me. If someone wants to sit down and listen, that’s their business.”

“Is that why therapy appeals? Because it’s about the individual?”

“Yes, exactly!” She looked up at him, pleased to be understood. “Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” He pivoted her out of her small misstep.

“Nothing. Only that we were under the mistletoe—”

“Were we?” He twirled her back, forcing another couple to make a quick turn to avoid them. When they were directly below the dangling ornament of berries in the middle of the floor, he said, “What do we do now?”

“I think you know,” she said with amusement twitching her lips.

“I do,” he agreed and cupped the side of her face as he dropped his head to press his mouth over hers.

From the outside, it probably looked chaste, but it was a lingering, sensual kiss that subtly claimed her, curling her toes and making her pulse trip. She let her eyelids flutter closed and melted against him.

When a ripple of amused aahs rose around them, he drew back, obsidian eyes filled with banked heat.

“Shall we switch?” Antoine appeared beside them with her mother. A new song started.

Konstantin’s expression cooled, but he found a warmer look for Lilja.

“I would be honored.” And it would be expected that her fiancé dance with his future mother-in-law while Antoine took Eloise for a spin.

The tempo was a foxtrot and Antoine was a good dancer, leading her expertly through the steps while saying with quiet malice, “You don’t really expect me to believe this charade?”

She didn’t bother playing dumb. “Edoardo wanted to marry me. Why wouldn’t Konstantin?”

“Because I sweetened the pot for Edoardo. What could you possibly offer a man like Konstantin? That you’re not already giving up,” Antoine added scathingly. “Or is that how you got the ring? By holding out on him? That will only work so long, girlie. He won’t go through with marrying you. What could he possibly gain?”

She didn’t want be so withered by his words, but he was giving voice to the insecurity she already felt. Maybe Konstantin was only intrigued by the sex they weren’t yet having. She might not be any good at it, for all she knew. And beyond that, all she offered him was a chance for him to feel he was squaring things with her dead brother. He had already mentioned divorce and turned away from her more times than she cared to count.

Not that she revealed any of that to Antoine. She kept it to a stiff, “I’m not here to prove anything to you. I just wanted to see my mother.”

“You want her ring. And for her to pay for a wedding and all the parties and frills that go with it. I won’t let that happen. Get what you can out of Galanis. That’s no skin off my nose, but don’t come crawling back here when he throws you out.”

Whether it was a newfound boldness that came from knowing Konstantin was in her corner or an old spark of her former self, before life had delivered so many blows, Eloise threw back her head and said, “I haven’t wanted to make my mother choose between her husband and her child, but do you honestly believe she would pick you if I did?”

“She already did,” he said with a cruel tilt to his mouth.

The music stopped and Eloise was close enough to the edge of the dance floor that she melted into the crowd, but her pulse was pounding in her ears and her hair felt as though it would catch fire any second.

“What did he say to you?” Konstantin asked grimly, coming up behind her where she was accepting a glass of wine from a bartender.

“Nothing,” she lied.

“You might hide how you feel about him from your mother, but not from me. What did he say?” he repeated through clenched teeth.

She glanced up and felt incredibly defenseless, not just because he read her so easily, but because of the things Antoine had said.

“He thinks I’m using our engagement to get Mom to go back to paying for my lavish lifestyle. He said she’s already chosen him over me.”

“I’ve had it with him.” Konstantin turned his head to search over the heads of the crowd. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes, but—” She set aside her glass and touched his arm to keep him from walking away. “You’re not going to make a scene, are you?”

“No. I’m going to make a point.” He took her hand and wound her through the crowd to where her mother and Antoine were speaking to another couple. “Lilja. Thank you for inviting us, but we have an early departure for Greece tomorrow. We’re calling it a night. Are you sure we can’t persuade you to spend Christmas with us?”

“I’m tempted. I miss Athens.”

“We’re going to Como for the holiday,” Antoine said firmly. “Lilja has been looking forward to it.”

“And we’re going to Crete,” Konstantin said, still speaking to her mother. “But we’ll have the wedding in Athens if that’s easier for you. I’ll fly to Como and kidnap you myself if I have to.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’re only staying until the second. Eloise.” Lilja touched the large emerald pendant dangling from the thick gold chain around her throat. “You’re not marrying on Christmas Day.”

“No.” She sent an alarmed look to Konstantin. Were they?

“Much to my dismay, there’s a seven-day waiting period in Greece,” Konstantin said. “So it will be the twenty-eighth or ninth. I’ll let you know once we’ve finalized everything. You and I have a lot to cover before then.” Konstantin finally swung his attention to Antoine who was looking like he’d been kicked in the peanuts. “Expect paperwork first thing in the morning.”

“You’re marrying in a week ?”

“Konstantin. We need a year,” her mother protested before she sent a startled look to Eloise. “Are you pregnant?”

“ No .”

“Oh.” Her mother pouted. “That’s too bad. A grandchild would have been icing on the wedding cake, but, Konstantin—” she touched his sleeve “—I only have one daughter. I want her to have the perfect wedding.”

“So do I. You and Eloise may spend as much of my money as you want, on a ceremony as extravagant as you want, on whichever day you want to have it, but I am making Eloise my wife before the year ends.” He wove their fingers together. “That is nonnegotiable.”

“He reminds me more and more of Petros by the minute,” Lilja confided with amusement to Eloise. “I wouldn’t dream of missing your big wedding day, darlings. Melissa will understand our leaving Como early. I can’t wait to tell her. How exciting!” Lilja hugged them both again. “Have a lovely Christmas. We’ll see you both in a few days.”