Wedding Night With Her Enemy

‘Aren’t you worried what the press will make of us?’ Allegra asked.

He gave a loose-shouldered shrug. ‘Not particularly. I’ve grown accustomed to them speculating on my private life. Most of the time they make stuff up.’

Not everything was fiction. She had seen enough photos of him surrounded by beautiful women to know he wasn’t living the life of a Tibetan monk. Far from it. He was considered one of Greece’s most eligible bachelors. Women were elbowing each other out of the way to score a date with him. What would everyone say when they heard she was to be his wife? A single-minded career woman like her, marrying a fast-living playboy like him.

It was laughable.

‘You’ll have to take a week off work, of course,’ he said. ‘We’ll take a short honeymoon on my yacht.’

Her heart flapped like a goldfish trapped in the neck of a funnel. ‘Hang on a minute—why do we need to have a honeymoon?’

There was a spark of something at the back of his gaze. Something dark and sensual and spine-tinglingly wicked. ‘If you need me to spell that out for you, agape mou, then you’ve been living an even more cloistered life than I thought.’

Allegra crossed her arms, holding them tightly against her stomach. A honeymoon? On his yacht? His yacht was no cheap little fishing dingy, but it could never be large enough for her to feel safe. Safe from her own wicked, traitorous desires. She would need a cruise liner or an aircraft carrier for that and even that would be no guarantee. ‘Look, I’m prepared to marry you for the sake of my father, but I’m not going to sleep with you. It will be an on-paper marriage. A marriage in name only.’

Draco came back to where she was standing but she had moved back against the wall, which gave her nowhere to escape. And with her hands crossed over her body she didn’t have room to unwind them to push him away. She breathed in the scent of him—lime and cedar with a hint of something that was unique to him. It unfurled around her nostrils, making them flare to take more of him in. She felt drunk on him. Dazzled by the pheromones that swirled and heated and mated with hers.

He slipped a hand to the side of her head, his fingers splaying through her hair until every root on her scalp shivered in delight. His eyes had that dark, twinkling spark of amusement that did so much damage to her resolve. Lethal damage. Irreparable damage. ‘And how long do you think an on-paper marriage between us would last, hmm?’ His voice was a deep burr that grazed the length of her spine like a caress from one of his work-callused hands. ‘I want you and I intend to have you.’

Allegra couldn’t stop staring at his mouth—the way his lips shaped around every word; the way his stubble made her want to press her mouth to his skin to feel the sexy rasp of his regrowth. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. The chant was pounding an echo in her blood. She didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. Not like she had done all those years ago, when she’d thrown herself at him only to be brutally rejected. She wasn’t that girl any more. Making the first move would give him too much power. She could resist him. She could. She could. She could.

As if he could read her mind, he brought a fingertip to her mouth and traced a slow outline of her lips, setting off a round of miniature fireworks under her skin. ‘Such a beautiful mouth. But I’m not sure if you’re going to kiss me back or bite me.’

She inched up her chin. ‘Try it and see.’

His smile was lazy and lopsided and sent her belly into free fall. But then he tapped her lower lip with his index finger and stepped back. ‘Maybe some other time.’

CHAPTER TWO (#u0fa116cc-d78c-50c3-bfe5-c643ecc2dfef)

DRACO PICKED UP his champagne glass because, unless he gave his hands something to do, he knew they would be tempted to jump ahead a few spaces. He could wait. Sure he could. Allegra was all for keeping things on paper but he knew she would crack before the ink was dry on their marriage certificate.

He knew she was attracted to him. She’d had a teenage crush on him, which had amused and annoyed him in equal measure back in the day. He’d been a little ruthless in handling her back then, but he hadn’t been interested in messing with a teenager, especially so soon after his break-up with the ex he’d thought he was going to marry. Back then, Allegra had been young and starry-eyed, fancying herself in love, and had needed to be put firmly in her place.

But she was a woman now—a beautiful woman in the prime of her life.

And he wanted her.

Ever since London, Draco had realised Allegra was exactly what he was looking for in a wife. And when her father, Cosimo Kallas, had come to him for help, he had seized his opportunity and made his financial support conditional on marrying her. Besides, there were other men who were circling like sharks for the money her father owed them, men who he knew wouldn’t hesitate to go after Allegra next. He couldn’t stand by and let one of them force her into their bed to settle the debts he could pay without flinching. Who knew what might happen to her? Her father had angered a lot of his business associates. Draco wasn’t going to let anything happen to her because her father was a fool.

Allegra was classy. She was well-educated, she was well-spoken and she was half-Greek. And, with her untouchable air, she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She could have graced a catwalk or been found starring on an old-world Hollywood movie set. She walked like a dancer, her slim figure moving effortlessly across the floor. Her glossy black hair was straight and hung almost to her waist. When she moved, it moved with her in a silk curtain that held his gaze like a super-powerful magnet. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining that silky black skein draped over his chest, her long, slender legs entwined with his.

Draco suppressed a shudder of anticipation. He was hot for her. Seriously hot. So hot he only had to look at her and his blood would thunder. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. When she’d spilled her champagne, the silk of her blouse clinging wetly to the perfect globe of her breast had made his blood shoot south in a torrent. He had rarely touched her in the past. Since that kiss when she was a teenager, he had respectfully kept his distance because he hadn’t wanted any boundaries to be crossed. He had made it clear he wasn’t interested back then and he hadn’t wanted to give her mixed messages.

Now was different.

Their marriage wouldn’t be for ever, just long enough to secure the business and get Allegra out of his system. Draco had nothing against long-term marriage, but he couldn’t see himself doing the time.

He had teased Allegra with that talk of an heir to suss out her feelings on the issue of children. It wouldn’t be fair to lock her into marriage—even a short-term one—if she was desperate to have kids. Thankfully, she wasn’t, and it was the last thing he wanted from this marriage. Given his childhood, he wasn’t sure he could ever see himself having a family.

When his mother had died from a gangrenous appendix when Draco was six, he and his father had been a team intent on survival in a world that didn’t notice, let alone help, the desperately poor. Draco had a clear memory of walking with his fisherman father past the Kallas corporation headquarters one day only a month before his father’s death. His dad had looked up at the building with its shining brass sign and expressed how he wanted Draco to aim high, to dream big and bountiful, to make something of himself so he wouldn’t have to struggle the way he had done. When his father had been killed in a boating accident four weeks later, Draco had been left to fend for himself.

But his father’s words had stayed with him, motivating him, fuelling his drive and determination. He’d clawed his way out of poverty, working several menial jobs while trying to get an education. At nineteen, he’d part-owned a business, and had gone on to own it fully when the partner had retired. He had gone from strength to strength after that, building and expanding each company he acquired. He was a self-made man and he was proud of it.

No one could say he wasn’t a prize catch.

Not now.

And who could be a better wife for him than Allegra Kallas—the daughter of the businessman who owned the corporation his father had singled out that day with such aspiration? Acquiring the company would be a symbol of Draco’s success. A token of the dreams and hopes his father had had for him and that he had now fulfilled in his father’s honour.

Draco watched her sipping her champagne, sitting there on one of the plush leather sofas. Her long legs were crossed, one racehorse-slim ankle moving up and down in a kicking motion—the only clue she was feeling agitated. Her expression had gone back to her signature cool mask of indifference, which was another thing that secretly turned him on. He was amused how she took that schoolmistress tone with him. When she tried to stare him down with those flashing, unusually dark blue eyes, it made him hard as stone. Harder. He could feel the throb of it even now.

He’d wanted to kiss her. Of course he had. What man with even a trace of testosterone wouldn’t want to feel that lusciously soft mouth? He’d tasted those sweet, hot lips once and couldn’t wait to do it again. But he knew if he moved too soon it could shift the balance of power. He wanted his ring on her finger. He wanted her hungry. He wanted her begging. He wanted her to be honest about her lust for him. For lust after him she did. He should know the signs because he was experiencing them himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off her generous and supple mouth. Couldn’t stop thinking about that mouth opening over him, drawing on him, sucking him till he blew like the volcano Santorini was famous for.

Draco met her eyes across the space that separated them. She raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, that starchy, English aristocratic, ‘I’m too good for the likes of you’ spark in her eyes making him want to carry her off fireman-style and show her just how good he could be for her. ‘Another drink to celebrate our engagement, agape mou?’ he said.

Her mouth was puckered like the drawstrings of an old-fashioned purse. ‘Don’t call me that. You know you don’t mean it.’

He pushed away from the window where he had been leaning. ‘Here’s the thing—we have to act like a happy couple, even if in private you want to play pistols at dawn.’

Her chin came up to a defiant height. ‘No one’s going to believe it, you know. Not us. We’re known to positively loathe each other.’ Her cheeks went a shade darker. ‘Especially after that night in London in December.’

He smiled at the memory. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt that tingle of attraction. More than a tingle. A shockwave that had left him buzzing for hours afterwards. ‘Ah, yes. It wasn’t one of your best moments, was it? I was only trying to help and what did I get? A glass of red wine poured in my lap. Hardly the behaviour of a grown woman.’

Her jaw looked as though she were biting down on a metal rod. ‘You provoked me. And it was either have that wine in your lap or splashed in your face, and your throat cut with the glass.’

He tut-tutted and shook his head at her as if she were a wilfully disobedient child who consistently disappointed him. ‘It seems I may have to teach you how to behave. That will be fun: Wife Behaviour for Beginners.’

She sprang off the sofa as if something had bitten her on the behind, throwing him a look that would have stripped tarmac off a road. ‘You think you’re so smart, manipulating me into this farce of a marriage, but I’ve got news for you. I will not be a doormat. I will not be treated like a child. I will not sleep with you. Do? You? Understand?’

Draco loved it when she got angry with him. She was always so buttoned up, cool and controlled. But with him she showed the depth of passion in her personality others didn’t see. She was feisty, a firebrand with a flaying tongue and a whip-quick wit. He enjoyed their verbal sparring. It was a big turn-on for him. Few women stood up to him or challenged him the way she did. He liked that she had spirit. That she wasn’t afraid to lock horns with him.

He would much rather she locked those gorgeous lips on his, but all in good time.

‘I understand you’re a little apprehensive about sex, but I can assure you, I’m excellent at it.’

Twin pools of bright pink flared on her cheeks. ‘I am not apprehensive about sex. I have sex—I have it all the time. I just don’t care to have it with you.’

How he wanted to make her eat every one of those words and lick them away with that hot little tongue of hers. He wanted that tongue all over his body. He wanted. He wanted. He wanted. It pulsed through him like an ache. He’d been too long between relationships. It had been weeks—no, months—since he’d had sex. He’d been too busy, distracted by work and the dire financial situation Cosimo Kallas was in, to bother about hooking up with anyone.

But now he was ready.

He was so ready he could barely keep his hands off those slim hips, from pulling her against him so she could feel how ready. ‘You will share my bed even if you don’t share my body to begin with. I won’t have my household staff snickering behind my back at my inability to consummate my marriage.’

She glared at him so hotly he thought the champagne in his glass was going to boil. ‘If you so much as lay one finger on me, I’ll scream loud enough for them to hear me in Albania.’

Draco gave an indolent smile. ‘I can guarantee you’ll scream, glykia mou. You certainly won’t be the first. Most women in my bed do.’

Her mouth went into a flat line and her hands clenched into tight little white-knuckled balls. Her whole body seem to vibrate like a child’s battery-operated toy. ‘I’m surprised you want to wait until we’re married. Why don’t you throw me to the floor and have your way with me now?’