Page 16 of A Diamond Deal
The mighty Konstantinos Ariti had given her a chance to be…more.He’d said she was like a little bird tapping on the window when she’d spoken inthatmeeting. And he’d opened it.
It had done something to her. Stroked a part of her she’d thought she’d buried. The need to be chosen. Her dad had never chosen her. He’d never given up his other family. But Konstantinos had chosenher.
Each stage of their relationship, he’d sucked her in. Offered her a job no one else believed she could do. First assistant. A personal assistant to a formidable Greek. He’d eased her into a twelve-month affair. Tempted her into marriage. And for eighteen months before she fell pregnant it had been everything he’d promised.
He’d made her believe for the first time in her life she was safe. She could trust in the life she was living. The life she’d chosen to live withhim.
He’d made her believehecould be trusted.
And then…Isaak.
He’d changed everything. Changed her. But Konstantinos had shown his true colours. He was cold.Detached. He’d never cared for her. Never cared for the baby they’d made. And she…she had cared.Deeply. So very deeply had she cared for them both, she realised.
She’d broken no rules. She hadnotfallen in love. But caring?
She’d carried his child. Wasn’t she supposed to care?
Wasn’t he?
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘You’re not a little bird any more.’
His gaze travelled over her. His slow appraisal, the flick of too long eyelashes, swept over every part of her body.
It was too intimate. It licked at her flesh. Made her burn.
Lean, long fingers rose to her cheek. Feather-light, his thumb grazed her cheek and pushed the stray hairs behind her ear. ‘You are my wife.’
Electrical currents zapped her senses. The possessive statement, the imprint of his thumb on her over-sensitised skin, hardened her abdominal muscles. Her breasts felt heavy. The tight tips of her nipples pushed against the cotton of her shirt.
Whatever was happening inside her body was nothing more than muscle memory. Her body remembered, that was all. But his hands on her body. His touch on her skin…
It repulsed her, she assured herself.
He didnotset her soul on fire.
The coil inside her,suppressing everything, popped.
‘Get your hands off me.’ Red rage misted her gaze. Never again would she welcome his touch on her body. ‘You…you lying bastard!’
His hand fell to his side. ‘I have never lied to you.’
Did he really think she didn’t know?
The heat drained from her limbs—blanching her tightened cheeks.
He knew what he’d done. He knew, even if she’d never confronted him with the photographs. He was there. He didn’t need to see them.
Images of skin, dark and flawless, so different from her freckled, pale skin, flashed in her mind.
Isabella, she’d like her. Hired her as her replacement. She’d trained her.
The roll of tyres burst the tension between them.
Her gaze flicked to the black limousine blocking the entry to the alley.
‘You will come with me,’ he said again.
She thrust out her chin defiantly. ‘I won’t.’
