Chapter Eight
NUSH LOOKED AROUND the luxury rear cabin of the private jet she’d been deposited into by a wet, thoroughly rumpled Caio.
She had no memory of the car ride except for snuggling up against the damp warmth of his body and the misery of being stuck in a bodysuit that clung to her skin like a wet rash and the constant pulse of pain radiating from her wrist.
She looked around the spacious cabin with its gleaming wood paneling and ultra-modern shower in the corner. The dark navy-colored duvet was soft against her fingers. She grimaced at the wet patch her rain-soaked clothes had immediately left on the bed and hopped away to sit on the single chair.
With her left arm tucked against her chest and the shoes wet and tight, trying to pull them off was a losing prospect. Except for a few unintended crunches for her ab muscles, she got no further. With a frustrated cry, she gave up. Instantly, thoughts rushed in like a tsunami.
A real marriage...to Caio.
A shiver ran down her spine and it had nothing to do with the dampness of her clothes.
A lifelong commitment, a partnership and he would be hers.
..forever, in a way no one had ever been.
She didn’t miss how high-handed he was being, bringing her aboard his jet, assuming she’d happily go wherever he brought her.
His sudden decision that it would be a permanent partnership.
The sheer arrogance of the man took her breath away.
It was also the same decisiveness that made her feel all warm and gooey inside.
Because Caio moved through life with a conviction, a commitment that never wavered once he gave it.
And that he was promising it to her was a breath-stealing temptation, a fantasy coming true.
Beneath all her affront and outrage at his executive decision, the woman in her, the romantic fool in her wanted to grasp it with everything she had.
But the little girl in her—the one who’d survived a chaotic childhood, the one who faced abandonment at every turn—was terrified that she’d lose him if they did this, that he’d abandon her too if she let herself have this.
You’re mine, he’d declared with such raw, possessive intent that reminded her that there were facets of Caio she didn’t know. That he carefully controlled what he did share.
How would a relationship ever work if he didn’t even let her know him? If everything was based on logic and compatibility, or on the minimal facts that she was loyal and attracted to him? If he always controlled the reins of it?
Nushie, it doesn’t have to be any different from the affair you proposed, that same voice whispered again and Nush grabbed it with both hands. A quiet determination stole through her.
If he truly wanted this to be a real thing, then he’d have to give her all of him. He’d have to prove it to her. Until then, she’d treat this as a temporary madness they were giving in to. That way, at least she wasn’t leaving herself even more vulnerable to him.
“Are you kidnapping me?” she asked when Caio walked into the cabin a few minutes later.
The question was nothing but token since they’d been airborne for a little while now.
She also had no doubt that he’d changed his plan to accommodate her because of her broken wrist. Ugh, so much for starting off on an even footing.
“I’m taking you with me on a trip that’s been on the schedule for a while,” he said, without meeting her eyes.
What she’d thought a luxuriously expansive space just minutes ago shrunk with his broad frame in it. There was a strange tension to his frame as he moved around the cabin, grabbing things.
Was it because of their particular destination? Or because he was already finding her presence intrusive?
They’d share spaces like this on a daily basis—the bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom, even a tub maybe. For days and months and years...if it worked out. They’d create their own traditions, make holiday memories, maybe even have kids. He’d be hers forever—unapologetically hers, irrevocably hers.
He wouldn’t leave her for anything, wouldn’t make her wonder if he’d break his word or send her off. As a mentor, friend and colleague, he’d been steadfast. As a husband, he’d be...
Jesus, Nushie, why don’t you just prostrate yourself at his feet then? The caustic words sounding very much like Yana put a break on her spiral. It was wishful thinking, a fantasy she’d weaved.
He was secretive and arrogant and controlling, she reminded herself. And he thought her some kind of unicorn he had to protect.
God, she was going to lose it with such constant, conflicting thoughts.
“Because I can’t be trusted to look after myself?” Her words came out full of distrust and fear.
“Because you’re hurt and I don’t want you fending for yourself alone in that big, empty house.” He sighed, added as an afterthought, “And because I want you with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To an island I own off the Brazilian coast.”
“Is that where your family lives?”
“They used to. Before...” his jaw clenched and released, “a long time ago.”
Nush frowned. “Wait, this acquisition...does it have something to do with your family?” Because that would explain the lengths he’d gone to, wouldn’t it?
Marrying her.
His barely hidden agitation as she’d signed the stock over.
The hours and hours of strategy planning with his executive team.
His furious determination to acquire the company despite Peter Sr.’s vicious protest that it was nothing but a liability unsuitable for OneTech.
“It’s a long story to get into now, Princesa.”
“We have a long flight ahead of us,” she said, before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. “I’d like nothing but—”
“Here, let me.”
Nush sighed as long fingers cleverly massaged her temples and relieved the tension that had been building all day. She tucked away the fact that he hadn’t answered her question, for now.
With a groan she couldn’t suppress, she leaned her head forward until it hit his abdomen, begging for his fingers to go deeper and farther.
He granted her unspoken request, his fingers kneading gently at her scalp and then back around.
With her arm between them, Nush steadied herself with a hand on his stomach.
Tight, hard muscles clenched under her touch.
She spread her hand around innocently enough, needing to touch more of him.
A ripple of movement was her reward. Then she played with his belt buckle, the cold metal a nice break from the warmth suffusing her.
A different kind of tension thrummed into life as she imagined sending her fingers on a southward quest. Her mouth dried at the thought of tracing his shape and length, of raking her fingernails over rock-hard thighs. ..
“I’ve asked the staff to bring you something to eat,” he said, stepping back. Cutting the contact without pushing her away. “A shower, food and sleep.”
She nodded without looking at him and fisted her hand that felt suddenly bereft. Damn, why had she hesitated?
“So docile, Princesa? You must be in a lot more pain that you’re letting on.”
She looked up to find him regarding her with a frown. “It’s been a long day and I’m just gathering my thoughts. But I can’t pin one down.”
“Anything you want to share?”
Nush stared at him, wondering at how easily he turned it back to her.
How he deflected her delving into his mind, his heart.
Neither had he missed that her suddenly subdued temper meant something deeper was needling her.
“It’s not an easy jump to think of you as my.
..husband,” she said, testing the shape and weight of the word on her tongue.
“I’ve never even thought of marriage in my future.
” She didn’t say it might have been because her present had been mostly obsessed with him.
“Which is why I’m not going to rush you into anything.”
Anything like what? Sex? Was the damned man going to leave her hanging again? “You know that I grew up with Mama hating anything related to marriage. She thought it was nothing but an institution held up by men to control women.”
“It does become that in certain circumstances, full of poison and control,” he added in such a savage tone that she was shocked by it.
When he didn’t elaborate, she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I always wondered if she sometimes regretted not accepting when my dad proposed. Although seeing that he’s incapable of anything but his commitment to alcohol, she made the right choice.”
“He proposed to your mother?”
Nush nodded.
“Does it bother you that you...are illegitimate?” There was a fierce quality to the question as if the injustice of it bothered him.
“Not really. Being Mama’s daughter meant understanding real-life matters at a very young age.
And that I got to meet Thaata and everyone when I was four made me realize it didn’t make a difference.
Mira and Yana had nothing I didn’t have.
In fact, I was the one who had a mother that loved her.
Even if sometimes, her mental health didn’t make for the warmest, greatest upbringing. ”
“Your devotion to her is admirable.”
Nush frowned at his question. But one look in his eyes told her he wasn’t being contentious or dismissive, that he was even angry on her behalf.
“She could have easily handed me off to Thaata. It became clear that he asked her to, enough times. It would have made her life, her work, her moods...everything easier. She could have just visited me when she had time. But she didn’t.
She loved me, as much as possible for her, in whatever way her mind allowed.
She tried her best and that’s all I needed. ”
He stared at her with such stark, naked emotion that Nush looked away. It wasn’t uncomfortable but it made her feel as if she’d suddenly bared all of herself to his gaze—every insecurity, every vulnerability—and he was rooting through it all.