Chapter Four
‘Damn, did you just come?’
Theo cupped Freya’s chin to raise her face to his. She was shaking, but then so was he.
What the hell? One minute he’d been teasing her, enjoying her bold demands, the fierce rebellion in her eyes…
And the next his hunger had overwhelmed him.
The hunger he never allowed to get out of control—that fierce, feral desire that he had learned to keep on lockdown to prove he was no longer that desperate boy who had consumed anything he could grab hold of before it could be ripped from his grasp.
He could still smell her arousal, still feel her nipple swelling against his tongue, still hear her moans as he’d rocked the painful erection against her as if he were humping her like a dog.
She blinked, those wide eyes as dazed as they were dazzling. The final firework shower reflected in the mossy green, making them sparkle like emeralds in the dying light.
‘I… I think so,’ she said, as if she didn’t know.
‘Mr Caras?’
He glanced over his shoulder to find one of his assistants standing on the edge of the trees not far away.
‘What?’ he demanded, even as he smoothed the shimmering fabric of her gown back over the rouged breast.
She jerked back, as if her swollen flesh was too tender for his touch. He knew how she felt—his aching erection was so hard it hurt.
He shielded her, grateful for the darkness, as he buttoned his jacket to cover himself.
‘What is it, Dimitri?’ he asked, managing to temper his voice, and not take his frustration out on his staff.
‘Sir, Prince Andreas is looking for you both. He wishes to…’ He could hear the embarrassment in the young man’s voice. ‘He asked me to locate his daughter.’
The swift shot of shame came first. Had Dimitri seen what they had been doing together? But then anger flared.
Who did the prince think he was dealing with?
Theo Caras wasn’t a street rat any more…
But as his outrage consumed him, right behind it was the knowledge he had been moments away from releasing himself from his pants to thrust deep inside her.
If he hadn’t been so absorbed in watching her go over first, Dimitri would have caught him taking the prince’s precious daughter against a wall.
He raked his fingers through his hair, aware of her ragged breathing as she tried frantically to repair her dress.
‘Tell the prince we will be with him shortly,’ he said, his voice vibrating with barely concealed contempt now.
Dimitri nodded and headed back through the grove of lemon and olive trees, where the guests had begun to dance to the world-famous DJ who had been hired to finish the evening.
Damn, anyone could have wandered past the tree line and seen them.
But why should he be ashamed of what they’d done? It had been mutual, their chemistry explosive, and she’d begged him to touch her, not the other way around.
What did disturb him, though, was his spectacular loss of control.
He never denied his sexual needs, but he’d also never taken a woman against a wall, especially one he now suspected might not be quite as experienced as he had assumed, from the deep flush on her cheeks.
‘It seems your father wishes to know how your seduction is progressing,’ he said, only half joking. But then his usual cynicism returned.
He’d found her honesty about her father’s intentions tonight refreshing and surprisingly forthright.
But now he was wondering if that had been a trick, to lure him into doing exactly what he’d just done—fall on her like a starving man…
And prove her father right, that a man like him could not be trusted to treat any woman with restraint.
And what if someone had seen them together, or, worse, photographed them?
While this segment of the roof garden was not immediately visible to the rest of the guests, it was visible from the street below, and the upper floors of the buildings that rose from the port area.
And those bastards had telephoto lenses—just ask Xander.
A new wave of anger consumed him at the thought of his brother. While Theo had never been ashamed of his actions, he knew Xander would have been unhappy if pictures of Theo screwing his former fiancée had ended up in the press.
Because Xander wanted them to have class.
A class that Theo now realised he not only lacked but couldn’t even fake where Princess Freya was concerned.
He had no intention of offering this woman marriage, but how did he explain treating her like a whore?
She blinked, her gaze still glassy. Was that shock? Or stunned afterglow? Or was her dazed expression now just another part of her clever act to garner his sympathy and cooperation?
What infuriated him was that he had no idea what her motives were any more.
All he knew was the pain in his pants was not going away.
And just looking at her—the dishevelled hair, the rouged patches on her chin and her cleavage where his stubble had burned her skin—was still turning him on to the point of madness.
The knowledge that whatever her motives, he still wanted her—with a feral hunger that reminded him of the boy he’d been, starving for so many things he could not have—only disturbed him more.
Because he’d spent a lifetime satisfying his needs so he would never be starving again. But he could not have this woman in the way he wanted, without being tricked into marriage.
She pressed her hand to her hair. ‘I should… I sh-should go to my father.’
The hitch in her voice made him feel like a brute.
She had asked him to touch her. Was she regretting that now?
He grasped her wrist as she attempted to pass him, annoyed by the need to protect her—when his hunger for her was already so problematic.
‘Wait, we should return together,’ he managed.
He could feel her pulse going haywire under his thumb.
Either she was a very good actress, or the dazed expression was authentic.
The worst of it was, he wasn’t even sure now which of those options he wanted to be true.
Because a part of him wanted to dismiss what had just happened as the moves of a practised seductress, but he still wanted to own those sweet sobs of her surrender.
He wanted to be the one to awaken her, to have touched her the way no other man ever had. Which was nuts. Because he had no desire to be led around by his cock, any more than he wished to be seduced into marriage.
‘I… I apologise,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘What the hell for?’ he asked. Getting more furious by the second now, and not even sure why.
‘I shouldn’t have asked you to touch me, to kiss me. I-I used you…’ Her startled gaze flicked down to his crotch and then back again. The colour on her cheeks blooming like a mushroom cloud. ‘For my own pleasure… While you didn’t get any satisfaction.’
He cursed. ‘Are you for real?’ he demanded, so angry now—with himself as much as her—it was a struggle not to shout. Did she think he was still that grubby street rat who couldn’t control his own libido?
The fact she had made him feel like that kid again was bad enough, but the thought she was judging him now, for who he had been, not who he was, only made his fury increase.
He had exposed himself with her. And he had no idea how to put that genie back into its bottle.
Once he had seduced a woman, and they had found mutual enjoyment together, he moved on. He didn’t do possessive, didn’t do commitment, had never been interested in anything other than the quick thrill sex offered.
But he’d also never met a woman he couldn’t read.
Freya stiffened, shocked by the brittle anger in Theo Caras’ tone and the confusing way it made her feel—not just embarrassed and hopelessly inexperienced but also hurt.
Of course he was angry—he had given her a taste of paradise and what had she done? Revelled in that spectacular moment of pleasure and given him nothing in return.
‘I-I don’t know what you mean?’ she said, feeling exposed.
He grasped her upper arm, tugged her towards him.
‘I’m not going to offer you marriage, Your Highness,’ he murmured, his hot breath brushing her cheek, the use of her title clearly meant to insult now, and not to tease.
‘No matter how desperate I might be to finish what we just started… So, you can stop trying to play me.’
She shuddered, the harsh tone almost as upsetting as the shiver of sensation still pulsing at her core.
She yanked herself out of his grasp. And wrapped her arms around her waist, far too aware of all the liberties she’d let him take… No, she’d begged him to take.
‘I guess it’s a good thing, then,’ she managed, surprised her voice remained calm when she was shaking inside, ‘that I have absolutely no desire to be married to you either.’
His eyebrow lifted in a sceptical arch, making her feel even more exposed. And defensive.
‘There’s no need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,’ he said, the term of endearment intended to humiliate her even more.
‘You’d be quite the catch for a guy like me…
I’m flattered.’ His gaze swept over her, making her far too aware of all the places her skin smarted from his attention.
‘But I’ll never be in the market for a wife, unlike my brother.
Because I don’t value respectability or class.
’ The cynical smile sharpened as his eyes darkened with the heat that had been so intoxicating before, but only made her feel transparent now, and far too needy.
She’d thrown herself at this man, confided in him even, and he’d made her feel beautiful, desired, for the first time in her life.
But she could see now it had all been a game to him.
‘And I don’t respect anyone who hasn’t earned what they’ve got… ’
She sucked in a harsh breath, humiliated now not just by his judgment, but also by the fact his words had the ring of truth.
What had she ever done to earn any of the privileges she had?
She’d let her father dress her up to attract Theo Caras, so did it really matter what her motives had been when she’d clung to him and begged him for release, if the result was the same?
‘Neither do I…’ she blurted out, determined not to care what he thought of her. ‘Which is precisely why I refuse to be my father’s pawn.’
Theo Caras might be right about her, that she had let her father use her. After all, it had taken her six months to finally refuse to marry this man’s brother. But what gave Theo Caras the right to sit in judgment?
‘And why I don’t plan to marry any man, least of all you!’ she added, letting her anger cover the hurt.
His gaze darkened even more, the muscles in his jaw tensing, and she congratulated herself on scoring a direct hit.
Theo Caras was a man who played with women, who made them want him and then discarded them.
His charms were legendary for a reason and she refused to feel guilty about falling for them when she was a novice.
‘Don’t worry,’ he sneered. ‘Because I won’t be offering.
’ But then, to her surprise, his gaze took on that possessive gleam that had the power to make her core clench with need.
And somehow, she couldn’t find the will to do anything but let out a soft sob when his thumb grazed the pulse in her neck and dipped down to trace the line of her cleavage and the nipple still raw from his lips.
‘But if you ever want to take this chemistry to its natural conclusion, get in touch,’ he murmured.
The seductive tone and his sense of entitlement was almost as thrilling as the need ricocheting through her body all over again.
‘Mr Caras, His Royal Highness, the Prince of Galicos…’
Freya jerked away from Theo, spotting the young assistant who had interrupted them earlier announcing her father’s arrival…
Then she registered her father’s furious expression as he stalked towards them. And her heart rammed into her throat. He’d heard them. He must have done. Shock came first, followed by panic.
What had she done? Her plan tonight had been to lull her father into believing she was doing his bidding.
By pretending to seduce Theo Caras… And now she’d blown that plan to smithereens by allowing Caras to seduce her instead.
Not only had she messed up her chance to placate her father, but she’d allowed herself to be used by Caras, too.
‘We are leaving,’ her father announced, before taking her upper arm in an iron grip.
‘I’ll be in touch about the land, Your Highness,’ Caras said, his expression rigid, and unreadable, but his tone pragmatic. ‘When you’re willing to negotiate in good faith.’
Her father glared, his grip on her arm tightening. ‘You do not know the meaning of good faith, Caras.’
If he had meant to insult the Greek billionaire, it seemed to have no effect, because Caras simply sent them both the cynical smile Freya had come to hate.
‘I’m willing to top my brother’s already generous financial offer for the land.
’ His gaze glided over her, the heat making her shiver despite the warm night.
‘But however tempting the inducements, marriage is off the table.’
She struggled not to wince as her father’s fingers dug into her flesh hard enough to bruise.
‘The deal is off,’ her father announced. ‘As I no longer believe a marriage with my daughter would be enough to prevent your seed from polluting the royal line.’
Freya flinched, her father’s statement was so unhinged—and insulting to both her and Caras. Nausea rose up her throat.
But Caras only laughed. ‘Point taken,’ he said. ‘We’ll see how you feel about that in a few months’ time, Your Highness…’
She had no idea what that even meant, but she decided she didn’t care as her father marched her out of the event, his hand digging into her biceps so hard it hurt.
All she knew was that her plan was in tatters now. Her father would never trust her again. And she was going to have to do some serious damage limitation in the next three months to convince him not to punish her brothers, as well as her before she got away from him.
In some ways, though, Theo Caras had done her a favour by taking marriage out of the equation.
But when she glanced over her shoulder one last time, to see him standing proud and indomitable, silhouetted in the moonlight, and felt his gaze sear her skin, it wasn’t gratitude she felt…
But anger and humiliation and hurt, and that deep pulsing ache for something more—which made no sense at all, because Theo Caras had proved himself to be an even bigger bastard than her father.