Helios Crowns His Mistress

And he was the cause of it. The thought sent a thrill through him. Whatever punishment she had hoped to inflict on him by disappearing for a few days, it had backfired on her.

He would never let her know of the overwhelming fury that had rent him when he’d seen the box she’d left by his door.

Which reminded him...

He slid the thick padded envelope he’d placed on the table towards her. Smashing the box when his anger had got the better of him had caused the perfume bottles to spill and ruin the books, but the jewellery had been left undamaged.

Her eyes narrowed with caution, she extended an elegant hand to it and opened it gingerly. Her mouth tightened when she saw what was inside.

She dropped the envelope back on the table and got quickly to her feet. ‘I don’t want them.’

‘They’re yours. You insult me by returning them.’

She didn’t blink. ‘And you insult me by giving them back when you’re about to put an engagement ring on another woman’s finger.’

He got out of his chair and stalked over to her. With the chair behind her she had nowhere to retreat. He pulled her to him, enfolding her in his arms so that her head was pressed to his chest. He was too strong and she was too slender for her to wriggle out of his hold, and in any case he knew her attempts didn’t mean anything.

He could feel her heat. She wanted to be in his arms.

Her head was tilted back, her breaths quickening. He watched as the pupils of her eyes darkened and pulsed, as the grey turned to brown, with a passionate fury there that set his veins alight.

‘There is no need to be jealous,’ he murmured, pressing himself closer. ‘My marriage doesn’t change my feelings for you.’

Her left eye twitched, an affliction he’d never seen before. Her top teeth razed across her full bottom lip.

‘But it changes my feelings for you.’

‘Liar. You can’t deny you still want me.’ He brushed his cheek against hers and whispered into her ear, ‘Only a few days ago you screamed out my name. I still have your scratches on my back.’

She reared back. ‘That was before I knew you were looking for an immediate wife. I will not be your mistress.’

‘There is no shame in it. Generations of Agon monarchs have taken lovers after marriage.’ His grandfather had been the exception to the rule, but only because he’d been fortunate enough to fall in love with his wife.

Of the thirty-one monarchs who’d ruled Agon since 1203, only a handful had found love and fidelity with their spouses. His own father, although he’d died before he could take the throne, had had dozens of lovers and mistresses. He’d revelled in waving his indiscretions right under his loving wife’s nose.

‘And generations ago your ancestors chopped your enemies’ limbs off but you’ve managed to wean yourself off that.’

He laughed at her retort, running a finger over her chin. Even with her oval face free of make-up Amy was beautiful. ‘We don’t marry for love or companionship, as other people do. We marry for the good of our island. Think of it as a business arrangement. You are my lover. You are the woman I want to be with.’

His mother had been unfortunate in that she’d already loved his father when they had married, and it was that love which had ultimately destroyed her, long before the car crash that had taken both his parents’ lives.

He would never inflict the kind of pain his father had caused, not on anyone. He had to marry, but he was upfront about what he wanted: a royal wife to produce the next generation of Kalliakis heirs. No emotions. No expectations of fidelity. A union founded on duty and nothing more.

Amy stared at him without speaking for the longest time, searching for something. He didn’t know what she hoped to find.

He brought his face down to meet her lips, which had parted, but she pulled back so only the faintest of touches passed between them.

‘I mean it, Helios. We’re finished. I will never be your mistress.’ Her words were but a whisper.

‘You think?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then why are you still standing here? Why is your breath still warm on my face?’

Brushing his lips across the softness of her cheek, he gripped her bottom and ground her against him, letting her feel his desire for her. The tiniest of moans escaped her throat.

‘See?’ He trailed kisses over her delicate ear. ‘You do want me. But you’re punishing me.’

‘No, I...’

‘Shh...’ He placed a finger on her mouth. ‘We both know I could take you right now and you would welcome it.’

Heat flared from her eyes but her chin jutted up mutinously.

‘I am going to give you exactly five seconds of freedom. Five seconds to leave this room. If after those five seconds you are still here...’ he spoke very quietly into her ear ‘...I will lift up your skirt and make love to you right here and now on this table.’

She quivered, a small tell but one so familiar he knew the expression that would be in her eyes when he looked into them.

He was right. The taupe had further darkened; the pupils were even more dilated. The tip of her pink tongue glistened between her parted lips. He knew that if he placed his hands over her small but beautifully formed breasts he would feel her nipples strain towards him.

He released his hold on her and folded his arms across his chest.

‘One.’

She put a hand to her mouth and dragged it down over her chin.

‘Two.’

She swallowed. Her eyes never left his face. He could practically smell her longing.

‘Three... Four...’

She turned on her heel and fled to the door.

‘One week,’ he called to her retreating back. She was halfway out of the room and made no show of listening to him, but he knew she heard every word. ‘One week and you, matakia mou, will be back in my bed. I guarantee it.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_769eed67-2d32-5083-b2fe-c555959b6934)

AMY GAZED AT the marble statues that had arrived on Agon by ship that morning and now sat in the grand entrance hall of the museum on their plinths. Three marble statues. Three kings at the height of their glory. All named Astraeus. The fourth, specially commissioned for the exhibition, would be transported from the sculptor’s studio in a week’s time. It would depict the current monarch, the fourth King Astraeus, as a young man in his prime.

Helios had personally commissioned it. She didn’t want to think of Helios. But she couldn’t stop.

He was everywhere. In every painting, every sculpture, every fragment of framed scripture, every piece of pottery. Everything was a reminder that this was all his. His people. His ancestors. Him.

Her attention kept flickering back to the statue of the second King Astraeus, a marble titan dating from 1403. Trident in hand and unashamedly naked, he had the same arrogant look with an underlying hint of ferociousness that Helios carried so well. If she had known nothing of the Agon royal dynasty, she would have known instinctively that her lover was a descendent of this man. Agon had been at peace for decades but their warrior roots dated back millennia, were ingrained in their DNA.

Helios had warrior roots in spades.