Chapter Twelve
Olympia
He’s lying back against the headboard of the bed, his muscular arms folded across the hard expanse of his chest, his dark eyes enigmatic, giving nothing away.
I knew he would come back to what I told him, about the things I’ve been through. I didn’t make the mistake of thinking he’d forgotten. And while I didn’t actually want to tell him, I knew he wouldn’t let it go until I had.
So I told him about my foster parents and what they did to me and saw the anger ignite in his eyes.
It wasn’t at me, I knew that too, but I didn’t want his anger.
I appreciated that he felt it on my behalf, but I didn’t want to have to reassure him the way I had to with Ulysses.
Not that Ulysses needed reassuring, but the way he fashioned his whole life to revolve around me and watching him martyr himself to the guilt of leaving me in an abusive situation was exhausting.
I was tired of being his Rapunzel and I certainly wasn’t going to be Rafael’s.
Rafael understood though, I had to give him that.
But then he spoiled it by telling me that I was his responsibility, which I didn’t appreciate one bit.
Then again, he also pointed out that he wasn’t Ulysses and that he wasn’t going to keep me tucked away like a delicate hothouse flower.
He was very emphatic about that and about not using our child as a way to get his revenge.
I’m doubtful of his promises, especially given his fury at what Ulysses did to his family, but the fierce look in his eyes when he said he wouldn’t use the baby makes me want to believe in that promise at least.
I’m still tense though. I need to know what being his wife will mean for me and I’m not going to agree to the marriage until I do. Yes, I know that I made him a promise, but if he thinks he’ll keep me in the house like a good little wife, he’s got another think coming.
‘How being my wife will work, you mean?’ he asks.
‘Yes. I want to know what you were thinking when you demanded I marry you.’
A muscle flicks in his hard jaw. He’s annoyed. I’m pushing him and I suspect he’s not a man who’s ever been pushed. Too bad though. I’ve learned a few things being Ulysses’s sister and one of those things is how to drive a hard bargain with a stubborn, difficult man.
‘Very well,’ he says flatly. ‘If you want the truth, I didn’t think about it.’
I’m unsurprised. Of course he didn’t think about it, because he was too busy thinking what a perfect revenge it was going to make. ‘Then I suggest you start,’ I snap. ‘Because a wife and a child aren’t just for Christmas, Rafael. They’re for ever.’
Temper gleams in his eyes and again I feel the addictive rush of power that I’ve managed to affect him this way.
He has a line, I’m sure he does, and I want to know where it is.
Though, really, I shouldn’t be pushing him for the sake of it.
I do have my reasons and I’m certainly not going to exchange one prison for another.
This isn’t just about me, either. It’s about our child and what kind of life we’ll have as a family, because, like it or not, we will be a family.
And I want that family to be a close and loving one, so our child will grow up feeling safe and loved.
I want him or her to have the kind of childhood that I never did.
‘Fine,’ Rafael says, an edge in his deep voice. ‘I don’t want an on-paper-only marriage, or for my wife and child to live apart from me.’
‘So you want me and the child to live here?’
‘Yes.’ His eyes blaze. ‘I grew up in this house and this is my home. It will become our child’s and yours too.’
I like that there’s a family history here and that he wants to continue it.
And I don’t mind that it’s not in Greece, where I grew up.
The house in Athens was never mine, it was always Ulysses’s, and I was constantly weighed down there by my sense of obligation towards him.
I feel no such obligation towards Rafael, however, and even though this house isn’t mine either, at least it could represent the start of something new and different and exciting.
Still, I don’t want to give away that I like this idea, because I don’t want to give away any advantage, so I only nod. ‘I see. I live here and warm your bed presumably.’
His onyx eyes narrow. ‘It won’t be “my” bed, Olympia. It will be “our” bed. And yes, I expect you to sleep with me every night. I expect you to be my wife in every way.’
A delicious shiver runs through me, because, yet again, I like that idea too. Of being his wife, sleeping in his bed, sleeping with him. ‘And I suppose you’ll expect me to be faithful too,’ I say, aiming for casual.
Instantly his ready temper ignites and he leans forward, reaching for me, his fingers wrapping around my upper arms as he hauls me up and onto his hard, hot chest. ‘Yes,’ he growls. ‘I expect you to be faithful. If you even so much as touch—’
‘You will be faithful too,’ I demand, cutting him off, secretly thrilling to the firmness of his grip and the possessive glitter in his eyes. ‘What goes for me, goes for you also.’
‘Done,’ he says, far too quickly. ‘After this hunger wears off we can renegotiate, but until then, the only bed we share will be this one.’
I take a silent, shaken breath, trying not to be so conscious of how his bare skin is against mine and it’s hot, and he’s hard.
Very, very hard. ‘I will have my own life too,’ I say, continuing to push.
‘You won’t interfere with anything I choose to do and the same will go for me.
I won’t interfere with anything you do.’
His gaze drops to my mouth and back up again. He’s as affected by my closeness as I am by his. ‘But any decisions we make on behalf of our child we will make together. I will be a part of his or her life, dragonfly. I won’t be sidelined, understand?’
Again that thrill pulses through me at the certainty in his eyes.
At the conviction glowing there, as well as the determination.
Our child has become real to him now and he wants to be a father, and I can’t help but love that.
Our baby will have what I never did: parents determined to do the best for them no matter what.
‘I understand,’ I say, unable to keep the husk from my voice.
‘Good.’ He keeps on staring at me, searching my face. ‘So now it’s your turn. You want your own life and I’ve agreed. What else do you need?’
Surprise ripples through me. I didn’t expect him to ask me what I want and I very much like that he has.
Though, like him, it’s not something I’ve given much thought to.
It’s difficult to think with him looking at me that way, but I force my straying thoughts back on track.
‘I…want something of my own. My own space,’ I manage.
‘Not just a room, but maybe a…little studio or something. Separate from the villa.’
His eyes widen slightly. ‘A studio? For what?’
I feel self-conscious all of a sudden, though there really isn’t any reason for it, and so I force myself to say, ‘I want to do something. I want a purpose. Ulysses was planning on giving me a position at Vulcan Energy, but the last thing I want is a job in someone else’s company, especially my brother’s. ’
‘You want a career?’ he asks, his intense gaze boring a hole through my forehead.
‘Yes.’ I’m irritated with myself and how self-conscious I feel as I say the words. ‘I want a job. I want to earn my own money. I want a life that’s mine for a change, and not a monument to Ulysses’s guilt.’
‘Why does he feel so guilty about you?’
I let out a breath. ‘Because after my mother died, he promised that we’d stay together.
That we wouldn’t be sent to different homes, but he was wrong and we were.
He was too young to get me away from my foster parents and it took him a couple of years to get together the resources to do it.
So…he blames himself that it took him that long and that I had to live in such a terrible situation the whole time. ’
‘And do you blame him?’ Rafael asks. The look in his eyes is ferocious, but there is no accusation in his voice.
‘No,’ I say truthfully. ‘Of course, I don’t, and he knows that. It’s why this whole thing with him is impossible.’
‘Why? Because he’s making it all about him?’
I stare at him a moment, pleased with the observation. ‘Yes, that’s exactly it. It’s all about him and his failings, yet I’m the one having to deal with the consequences and it’s frustrating.’
Rafael says nothing, but the ferocity in his eyes doesn’t lessen. ‘I can see that. So, what kind of job do you want?’
‘I’m not sure yet. I was going to take a jewellery-making course because I like the idea of creating pretty things.’ I say this last with a hint of challenge, half of me afraid that this little idea of mine is too narrow or too paltry to be worth pursuing, but he only nods.
‘I can build you a studio,’ he says. ‘There’s plenty of room here on the property. If you want it here, of course.’
There’s a warmth inside me, one that grows and deepens as he speaks, because he’s greeting my confession with absolute seriousness and I appreciate that a lot.
Not that Ulysses was ever dismissive of what I wanted, but I could tell that was only because what I wanted fitted in well with his own plans.
For a moment I consider having a studio built somewhere else, but then drop the idea. If Rafael is here and our child is here, then definitely I want to be here too. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘That would be wonderful.’ And just like that the hard line of his mouth relaxes.
‘Good,’ he says. ‘You and I will sit down and discuss what you want, then I’ll draw up some plans for you.’
The way his eyes glitter and his mouth curves slightly, as if the idea of building me a studio pleases him too, makes my chest tighten. I like how my request isn’t a drama, too, and doesn’t involve endless negotiation. He just agreed as if it was no trouble.
Eventually you’ll end up being trouble. You always do.
I shove that thought out of my head since it has no business being there.
Ulysses martyred himself to his own guilt and I won’t do the same with mine.
I just won’t. It’s there, I know it is. Guilt that my brother’s life ended up revolving around me.
Guilt that I caused him so much pain, even though I know it wasn’t my fault.
But I can’t dwell on that and I won’t let it stop me from doing what I want with Rafael. And right now, what I want is him.
I move, sliding my body on top of his, straddling his lean hips and putting my palms on his hard chest to push myself up, so he’s the one looking up at me for a change.
His black eyes glitter as his gaze lowers to my bare breasts.
My nipples are tight and hard, and I can feel him get even harder, his cock pressing between my thighs, making my breath catch.
‘Is there something else you want?’ He raises his gaze to meet mine and his beautiful mouth curves in a smug, arrogant smile.
‘Maybe.’ I shift on him, moving my hips, sliding against him, and have the satisfaction of seeing fire blaze high in his dark eyes.
‘Ask for it,’ he says, his gaze unflinching. ‘Ask me nicely.’
My God, the things he can do to me just by looking at me. ‘Fuck me, Rafael,’ I breathe. ‘Please.’
He smiles and pulls me down.