Page 49 of A Diamond Deal
She was faultless.Perfection.And she blinded him to the sea of bodies surrounding her.
She sparkled beneath the teardrop-diamond chandeliers. Her throat was bare, his mark healed, or concealed, he didn’t know.
A cape, intricately embellished with sequins and crystals, guarded her silhouette from the pointed flourishes at her shoulders to sweep to the floor to meet the spike of a gold heel. The gold sequinned gown beneath accentuated every line. Every dip of her body.
It was silk, gold armour.
He was too far away to hear what she was saying, but he watched her lips move. Unpainted, they glistened with the sheer shine of the moisture from the tip of her pink tongue. He watched it disappear. Her lips meet. He watched her head lift.Turn.And behind her sequinned mask, her eyes met his.
All night, she’d done her duty. Keptherpromise.
She’d worked the room. Danced. Talked.Smiled.
She did not smile now.
The current between them pulsed too strongly.Too heavily.
It was magnetic. The drag, urging him closer.
Like in London?
No. In London it had been an explosion of repressed desire.Now?He desired his wife. He wanted her, just as desperately. Just as viscerally. But it wasn’t like their first time together.
He’d never intended to take her to bed in London. He’d never intended to keep her in it until they both came up for air, exhilarated.Exhausted.Only to do it again. And again, because as soon as she’d agreed to an affair—agreed to let him taste the body he’d coveted for months—he’d lost the fight to stay away from her.
Butthiswas…different.
A desire intensified by time—by knowing her more intimately than he knew himself.
Their desire…trust intensified it. It always had. They understood in this room full of strangers: they had each other. And they knew they had each other’s back.
He was conflicted bythattruth.
Shemade him conflicted. She hadn’t needed proof of his fidelity. She’d taken him at his word and needed nothing else. And yet she needed her contract. Her divorce.
Konstantinos longed to tear his eyes from hers. To feign indifference. But he couldn’t.
Relief eased his shoulders as her eyes dipped back to the companion at her side. A blur of purple beside her. Her white teeth appeared from behind lifting lips. She nodded. Moved. Claimed two glasses of champagne from a passing server. She walked beneath frescos painted on the vaulted ceilings. The dangling lights of chandeliers guided her with every footfall.
The hall of mirrors created an optical feast of light.
It madeherimage endless.
She stood in front of him. Handed him a glass of champagne. He reached for it. They paused. Their hands aloft. Their fingers met.
It burnt.
‘The fireworks are about to begin.’ He nodded towards the black-waistcoated hosts, handing gold-cupped candles to gloved hands beside the exit at the end of the hall. ‘We should make our way outside,’ he said, because her scent… It was everywhere. He needed air. He needed out. He needed to put space and people between them.
‘Let’s drink our champagne first.’ She took a slow, controlled sip. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t tell me about your father.’
‘I do not need your apologies,glikia mou,’ he dismissed with a flick of his wrist. But his chest. It spasmed. At her proximity. Her sincerity.
For days, Konstantinos had kept his distance. Locked himself in his world of boats and business. He’d kept away from her because he’d wanted her to pine—to yearn.He’d been waiting for something. A call, a text to tell him she needed more than his hands. His fingers. She neededhim. But she hadn’t called. She had not texted. His team had. They’d told him. There she sat, all alone, despondent, looking out at a view with eyes that did not look. Did not see.
