One Night to Risk It All (14 page)

“Is that right?”

“Yes. I need to worry about me. And us. And the baby.”

“Not so scared of the baby now?”

“Oh, no, terrified. Utterly terrified. But I feel a little bit more like I can breathe again. Actually, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in a long time. Because... Because if I really am okay—as I am, I mean—if I really don’t just have to be a clone of my mother? Well then maybe I can focus on being a good mom because I won’t be working so hard to keep my façade in place. Does that make sense?”

“As much sense as any of our issues make.”

She laughed, so sweet and beautiful in a lace nightgown, blond hair spilling over her shoulder, a seductress. Giggling. There was something so perfect about it. Something so free.

He wanted to capture it, hold it forever.

But then...then she wouldn’t be so free. Then she would be in a cage fashioned by him, rather than one built by Ajax or her father.

The thought unsettled him. And yet it didn’t diminish the need to hold her to him. To claim her.

“I guess that’s true. I mean, none of it makes sense to anyone but ourselves, right? In here, though—” she put her hand on her chest “—it’s been the realest thing in my life. Trying to deal with that critical voice, trying to best it, to be better. While secretly dying of boredom. I haven’t even been able to be myself inside. I haven’t even had emotions that belonged to me because...I was told so often I was wrong.”

“I let go of emotions because it was the safest thing.” Except he hadn’t let go of them, not truly. Anger, rage and that impotent longing of a young boy for some kind of affection...it was all still there. And he hated it.

Silence fell between them, the light in her eyes changed. She looked fierce. Angry. “You should never have been subjected to the things you saw. It makes me want... I want to go back and protect you and I can’t. It hurts to know that I can’t.”

He felt like she’d reached straight into his chest, taken his heart in hand and squeezed tight. “I do not need protection.”

“Maybe not now, but you did. I wish someone had done that. I think it’s wonderful that you love your mother, in part because no one else did. But I wish, so much, that someone had stepped in and protected you.”

“You...care about me, Rachel?” he asked. They were hard words to speak, and yet it was harder not to say them at all.

“More than that, Alex. I actually... I wanted to say—and I was going to wait until I had you all sex-sleepy, but—I love you.”

Alex froze. “Say it again,” he said.

They were the words he’d wanted from someone all of his life. Words that had never, not once, been directed at him. Not by his mother, not by his father, not by a lover. Now that he’d heard them he wasn’t sure what they made him feel. It was something deep. Something hot and cold. Something that made him want to pick up a car and throw it into the ocean, or just pull her into his arms and kiss the hell out of her.

Instead he waited, frozen inside. Even his heart had stopped. He was certain of it. Because he couldn’t breathe, not at all. The world might even have stopped turning, just waiting, on pause, for the next words that might come out of her mouth.

“I love you.”

She said it again, and it all started again. His heart pounding hard, causing a shift inside of him that made him feel like he was crumbling, each beat compromising the stone walls built up around him for protection.

He couldn’t think of what to say. Or what to do. And that rarely happened to him. When it did, though, Rachel Holt seemed to be the cause of it.

“Why?” he asked.

He hadn’t meant to ask the question, but the minute he did, he realized it was the word pounding through his head. Because it made no sense. Because no one ever had. And he wasn’t sure why this beautiful, incredible, ridiculous woman who seemed to light the world on fire when she smiled, would feel that way about him.

Not when he’d used her. Seduced her for revenge.

“Because I cried in front of you. I want to seduce you, and be seduced by you, and say dirty words for you. I can sing off-key in front of you. And you don’t judge me, or look down on me. You accept me that way, and I feel like I can accept myself that way, too.”

“Is that all?”

“Achieving self-acceptance isn’t big enough for you? Fine, that’s not all. The sex is good, too.”

He didn’t feel torn about what to do anymore. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, kissed her until neither of them could breathe. Until his lungs were filled with her. Her scent. Everything.

Until his blood was so hot with lust he thought it would scald him inside.

He felt wild. Out of control. Unequipped to accept what she’d given him and unable to return it.

But one thing he knew for certain was that she was his. Love would make her stay. He’d truly done it. He had made her love him, and now that she did, she wouldn’t go.

He’d seen that growing up. He’d seen it with his parents.

She would stay. His Rachel would stay.

He felt the need, the intense, unendurable need, to brand her and solidify that bond. Vows. Legal documents. He needed that marriage now. Needed to strengthen his hold.

Because she couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t lose her.

“Show me how much you love me,” he said, his voice a growl he didn’t recognize. The feelings in him utterly foreign, something that was also beyond his recognition.

“How?” she asked.

“Show me,” he repeated, feeling desperate.

She pushed his shirt from his shoulders and kissed his neck, his chest, her fingers working at his belt, and the closure of his pants. Soon she had him naked, soft hands skimming over his body.

He just wanted to drown in it all. In her touch. In the moment. To never have this moment pass so that he could live in it forever.

But it was already passing, changing. And he couldn’t regret it because of where it put her hands. The way that she cupped him. Squeezed him. Teased him. Her hands sure on his body, her lips soft, her tongue hot and slick.

She moved away from him and a kick of fire burst through him. Her not touching him was going to drive him insane, but he had to let her stop, because he had to see what she would do next.

He was powerless to do anything but watch her.

She took the lacy nightie off, exposed her body to him slowly. And in her eyes he saw her emotions. She wasn’t pausing to make jokes. Wasn’t interrupting the moment, the tension, with a comment.

It was the first time she’d simply met his eyes and taken her clothes off.

He was glad she wasn’t talking because he was sure he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to.

She returned to him, full breasts pressed against his chest. He pushed his thigh between her legs, felt her wetness on his skin. Her desire for him.

He put his hand on her lower back and rocked against her. Her head fell back, lush lips parted, a sweet sound of pleasure escaping her mouth.

He cupped her chin, held her steady, bending to kiss her as he continued to move, continued to pleasure her.

He would give her this. Not love. But this. And she loved him, so it would be enough. Because she’d said he made her feel good. And that the sex mattered.

He would show her just how good he could make her feel. Just how much sex mattered. He would give her everything that he had to give. Everything.

He slipped his thigh from between her legs and walked her backward to the bed, pushing her down so that her butt was resting on the mattress and her legs were over the side. “I need you,” he said, the words painful to force out. “You don’t know how much.”

He hooked her legs over his hips and thrust into her. Her back bowed off of the bed, her round breasts thrust into prominence. He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked it in deep, until she moaned. Until he felt her internal muscles tighten around his cock.

She grabbed his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his back as he thrust into her, hard and uncontrolled. He didn’t have it in him to be measured. Wasn’t able to take his time.

He needed her too badly. He needed to keep going, to run from the roar of blood in his ears, to push toward a release that would make the ache in his chest go away. That would make everything clear and calm. An orgasm to purge him of all the longing and pain that were weighing him down.

He gripped her hips, tugged her to meet his body with each movement. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t think he ever would. He’d never felt like this before. Like he was unraveling at the seams.

She cried out her release and it pushed him over the edge, his climax engulfing him as he leaned forward, hands braced on the mattress on either side of her as he shuddered out his release. His muscles were shaking, his body trembling. It had been the most intense sexual experience of his life.

But it hadn’t taken away the weight. The pain. The confusion.

But it had left one thing deeply rooted in him. She was his.

He moved away from her, lay down on the bed beside her, his legs off the edge like hers, as he tried to catch his breath.

“I will plan the wedding for as soon as it can possibly be coordinated,” he said.

“What?”

He looked over at her, watched her breathe hard. It was rewarding when she was topless. And yes, even with all of his inner turmoil he appreciated the gentle motion of her breasts. Or perhaps, because of the inner turmoil, he appreciated it particularly.

“The wedding. There is no point in putting it off. Your pregnancy is going to become evident soon.” He put his hands on her stomach, it was a bit fuller than the last time he’d done that. A strange surge of pride shot through him, one he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Maybe I like the maternity bride look.”

“Do you really?”

“No.”

“Okay then, since you’ve made the decision. And since you love me...I see no reason to put it off.”

“You’re high-handed.”

“Yes.”

“You’re the younger man. You’re supposed to be my boy toy, but you’re all alpha and stuff.”

He rolled over and put his hands on either side of her, his chest touching her breasts. “You like it.”

“I do.”

“So don’t complain. We will be married within the next couple of weeks. I’ll hire a coordinator and you can submit all of your ideas to her.”

“Well, that sounds...easy.”

His heart seized up. “You have a complaint about it?”

“No, not at all. Not really. I already kind of just planned a wedding. For the entire last year of my life. And I ended up not going to it, so this is kind of... I don’t really care what this one is like.”

That hit him wrong. “You don’t care what your wedding to me is like after you spent a year planning your wedding to Ajax?”

“Don’t be that way. That’s not what I meant. I’m just... The wedding itself doesn’t seem that important, all things considered. It’s what it means. It’s what our lives will be after.”

“And what will our lives be?” he asked.

“We’ll be together.”

Yes, she was his. She truly was. His muscles relaxed, his entire body getting the post-sex languor he’d been anticipating.

There was nothing to worry about. He’d been in control of all of this, from beginning to end. Sure, things had gone off the rails a couple of times, but in the end, he was getting what he wanted.

In the end, he was getting her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
T
WAS
HER
WEDDING
DAY
.
Again. How strange to have a second wedding day in just over three months’ time.

But here it was, that time again.

She smoothed down the front of her wedding gown and looked in the mirror. It was a simple chiffon dress that flowed over her stomach. Her stomach which was not up to being squeezed into anything fitted. It was tender and she was already having to ponder maternity pants.

The difference this time was that she loved Alex, and she knew that being with him was what she wanted. No, he didn’t exactly love her back. Or at least he hadn’t said that he did, but she wanted to be with him.

And as Leah had said, sometimes you had to make choices.

They were marrying on Alex’s island, rather than her father’s estate. It made her feel sort of wistful and sad. Actually, the fact that her family didn’t feel as much a part of it as her first wedding made her feel wistful and sad.

And Alana hadn’t been able to make it, either, because she was attending a movie premiere in the States, as the guest of a celebrity she’d dressed. Great for her, but sucky for Rachel. Not that she would have ever asked her friend to give the opportunity up.

It was for their business, after all. It was Alana’s career, but it was Rachel’s investment. It was a nice distraction, really. Knowing that was going on halfway around the world.

Weddings, whether she loved the groom or not, made her nervous, it turned out.

But at least she knew she wasn’t going to have any past lovers crashing this one.

She took a deep breath and picked up her bouquet. No, nothing was going to mess this day up. And then she and Alex would be married and the rest would...just work itself out.

She ignored the leaded weight in her stomach that said otherwise.

* * *

Alex looked out his office window, down to the grounds below. Chairs had been set up by the water, and people were already filling them. An arch was in place at the altar. There were flowers all over it. It looked a little bit fussy for Rachel. Not any more indicative of who she was than the first wedding had been. But then, she’d said she didn’t want to be part of the planning, so the coordinator had taken the helm.

She’d have to be happy with what she got, because she was the one who’d made the decision not to make decisions. And he shouldn’t care if it “looked like Rachel” or not.

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the wedding happened, and quickly.

It was all about to begin. It was, in fact, time for him to head down there. He opened the door and started down the hall.

This was it. The final piece to keep her with him.

Because she made him feel new. She made him feel like he was something other than his blood. She made him feel like a man who was loved.

And he needed that. He needed her.

He went down the stairs and threw open the front doors of the mansion, striding down the walk and toward the beach. He made his way down the aisle, ignoring the head turns of the guests. People he didn’t know. All of them were Rachel’s guests.

Because no one was here for him. He brought nothing in terms of connections or friendships to the marriage. He had no friends. He had clients. He had enemies.

He had Rachel.

And that was all.

She had friends. She had a family who loved her. A lightness to her, that even with her pain and vulnerability seemed to shine through.

She was good. And that wasn’t something that could ever be said about him. There was a reason no one had ever loved him.

A large rock settled in the pit of his stomach, growing heavier with each step. Making each step a challenge.

And as he stood there at the head of the aisle he scanned the crowd, and his eyes met with those of Ajax Kouros. Sitting in the front row, by himself, his wife likely gone to wait with Rachel.

Ajax looked very like their father. It was a blessing in Alex’s mind that he himself did not.

He wondered if they looked very much like brothers to a disinterested party. He thought he might see some similarities. The same jaw. The same chin. Ajax’s eyes were dark, while Alex had his mother’s eyes.

But as he stood there, a sick, horrifying feeling washed over him.

Ajax had their father’s eyes. Their father’s love. A love that Alex shouldn’t have wanted, but that he did want. Because he’d wanted someone’s love. Anyone’s. And Ajax had the love of so many. His wife, his father-in-law. He had a family. He had friends.

Alex was alone.

Alex, who was conniving to trap this woman, this loving beautiful woman, into a marriage that would offer her so very little.

The way his father had kept his mother in the compound. On a leash made of drug addiction and a terrifying, unhealthy love.

Alex was no better. He had used a woman’s body in a bid for revenge. And now he was tying her to him when he knew he could give her nothing but his anger, nothing but the black, wicked blood in his veins.

As he saw Ajax sitting there, Alex saw nothing more than a man. Not a monster, not a demon.

No, the demon had never been in Ajax. The demon had always been within Alex. It was the thing he feared, the thing he hated. And it was him.

That was why no one loved him. Why his mother had taken death over a life with him.

It had always been him.

He took a step back down the aisle. And another. And another, until he was walking away from the beach, back toward the house.

He stumbled inside and closed both doors behind him. And he looked up and saw Rachel coming down the stairs, with her sister, Leah, trailing behind, helping with the train of her gown.

She looked like an angel. All in white, the gentle rounding of her stomach highlighted by the soft, flowing fabric. Her blond hair was in loose curls, a halo of gold that made him ache. Made him hate the man who had taken her innocence and used it in his games.

Hate himself. More than he had ever hated Ajax. More than he had ever hated his father.

More even than he’d hated his mother as he’d watched the blood drain from her body, as he’d watched her steal herself from him.

Why would anyone ever love the creature he was? His mother must have known, even then, what he was. She had been able to love Kouklakis, but she’d never been able to love Alex. Had killed herself rather than face life away from the compound. Rather than face a life with just herself and Alex.

If there was anything more telling he didn’t know what it was.

I would have saved you.
He’d wept that day. So hard. Without hope.
I would have given you everything.

It had never mattered. Because he wasn’t enough. He would never be enough.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

She blinked. “What about? Is everything okay?”

“We need to talk, Rachel.”

“Okay. Leah, can you give us a moment?”

Her sister nodded and headed back up the stairs, giving him a hard look that let him know she wasn’t overly impressed with him. Well, she would be even less impressed after this. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He had just had a look in the mirror for the first time, so to speak, and he’d confirmed what the deep, clawing ache in him had always hinted at. No one hated him more than he did.

Except for maybe Rachel. But she would hate him even more if he subjected her to a lifetime of him.

“I am not marrying you,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I am not marrying you today.”

“Why the hell not? I have a dress. We have a marriage license. What in the world is wrong with you?”

“I have something I haven’t told you. Something that will change the way you feel about me. It could do nothing else.”

“What you just said has already started to change the way I feel about you.”

“Understandably. And you need to hear this, too.”

She threw her bouquet down on the step, spreading her arms wide then slapping her hands down on her hips before crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “All right. Great. Let’s hear it. Come at me, bro.”

“Ajax Kouros is my brother.”

That shocked her silent for a moment. “Say what now?”

“Ajax is my brother. Nikola Kouklakis is our father. We have different mothers. I have never known who Ajax’s mother was, and doubtless he didn’t, either.”

“Why didn’t he ever say anything?”

“He doesn’t know. I didn’t find out until years after he’d left. He left when I was eight or so, he would have been...sixteen. He never knew.” He swallowed hard. “When I was fourteen I was told who my father was, by Nikola himself. I was terrified, because I’d always been afraid of him. I’d always hated him. But, he said, with Ajax gone I would have to be his heir. And then... And then he told my mother it was time for her to go because she’d outlived her usefulness there. She’d provided me with...a mother’s presence, I suppose, and now he no longer needed her.”

Alex paused, his heart pounding, his body shaking. He’d never told anyone about this. Had never spoken these words out loud. He hated this memory. Hated this moment in his life. Hated this truth.

“He told me how he had cared for me. How he had forbidden any of the men in the house from touching me, both when I was a boy and when I was older. How he made sure I got fed. I always thought it was her. But it wasn’t. It was never her.” He took a deep breath, afraid he might throw up. “I ran out of his office. I wanted nothing to do with him. With all of it. She was so angry with me. She told me...I’d ruined everything. She never wanted me. It was all for him. Everything she’d done for me had always been for him. I told her I would take care of her. I told her it would be all right.” Everything turned cold inside of him.

“What happened?”

“She killed herself. In front of me. Because that future, the end of everything, was preferable to a life spent with me.”

Rachel’s eyes widened with horror, her view of life already darker because of him. Because of his truth. He was ruining her already. “Alex...I don’t... She had problems, Alex, it wasn’t you.”

“It wasn’t me? She loved Nikola Kouklakis, and she couldn’t love me. Everyone loves Ajax. He came out of it...fine, just fine. I’m broken. Everything in me is...I am his son. All of the bad things are in me. I cause...destruction just by breathing.”

“Based on what? The actions of a woman who was too broken to know real love when she saw it?”

“It’s more than that. It was what my father did—he broke people. And I do it without even trying.”

“That’s not true. I don’t care who your father is. I don’t care who your brother is. What your last name is, where you came from. If your mother was a prostitute or if
you
were a prostitute. I don’t care. I know who you are now. I love who you are now.”

Her words burned in him, a sharp, almost refreshing sting. Antiseptic on an infection. He couldn’t accept it.

“You can’t.”

“I do. Alex, I love you. Your mother had a lot of things going wrong inside of her, and they weren’t your fault. She couldn’t love you, but that was because of her own heart, not yours. There’s nothing broken in you. You’re a good man, and I love you more than anything.”

He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t. All he could see was his mother’s face, so haunted and broken at the thought of life away from the compound. Life with him. And then lifeless and blank as she lay there dying.

He thought of Ajax, who’d transcended it all. Who’d found love and a life away from all of that while it all seemed to cling to Alex like creeping slime.

It would never come clean. Ever. He would only poison her, too.

“Don’t be so naive,” he said. “It was always going to happen this way. I didn’t want Holt. I never did. I wanted nothing less than your and Ajax’s utter humiliation. His leaving is part of what triggered my mother’s suicide. He escaped with no consequences, and it was my job to give them to him. Now he has married your sister, the second-choice bride, because he couldn’t have you. And then, I’ll make you available to him now that it’s too late. Now that you’re having my child and he’s married to someone else. Don’t you see how well you were played? Don’t bore me with any more of your declarations of love. They mean nothing, because you don’t know who I am. You can’t love me,” he said, the words choked. Because he knew they were true. She couldn’t love him. “You can’t love someone you’ve never truly met.”

She raised a shaking hand, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Alexios Christofides.”

He extended his hand and closed his fingers around hers. She was so soft and perfect he wanted to weep. This was the last time he would ever touch her. She would leave him now, and it would be for the best. For her. For their child.

Their child should never know him. Everyone was better off without him in their lives.

“I’m sure you don’t mean that,” he said.

“No,” she said, “actually it really sucks.”

“Shall you tell them all it’s off, or shall I?”

“I will,” she said. “I can handle this myself. You’ve done enough. I’ll send for my things later. We won’t speak again. I assume you don’t want anything to do with the baby?”

His heart screamed. And he ignored it. “No.”

“Great. Great, that’s just...great. If you come near my family again, I will castrate you, do you understand? Because you’ve liberated me, and I will not go quietly. I won’t let you get away with
any
thing. If you show up in our circles, I swear I will have your head on a pike. You thought your revenge on Ajax was bad? Just wait.” She walked past him and pushed the doors open, the sun illuminating her. She was no innocent angel now, she was an avenging angel. Caught on fire with the light of the sun. He had to look away. He closed his eyes and he could still see the impression of her behind his lids, burned there. He had a feeling when he closed his eyes it would always be her that he saw.

The doors closed. And he heard footsteps behind him.

And then something cold hit him in the back of the head. He turned and saw Rachel’s bouquet on the floor behind him, damaged now beyond recognition from hitting him. And then there was Leah, standing there looking like she was ready to castrate him in the real world.