Читать книгу The Snow Bride - Anne McAllister - Страница 15

FROM the instant Rose had come out on the balcony, Xerxes had felt her presence like the first burst of sunlight at dawn.

He’d pretended not to see her at first. He’d continued to pace as he spoke, as was his habit when he was making deals over the phone that were worth hundreds of millions of dollars. But as he discussed business with his vice president of the Novros Group in New York, Xerxes had secretly watched Rose with hooded eyes.

Her expression was in shadow, but he could see her body. Long, wavy blond hair now hung damply down her shoulders, over a thin top that clung to her full breasts and tiny waist. A knee-length skirt revealed impossibly long legs, slender and strong.

Looking up at her, his whole body had tightened painfully. There was something about this girl—except girl wasn’t the right word. Rose Linden was absolutely a woman. But there was something different about her, some quality of innocence that made her seem even younger than she was.

As he watched her, a strange need had trembled through his body that he’d never felt before. He did not like the feeling. He—Xerxes Novros—needed no one.

He barely knew her, and yet she had some power over him, a power his own body gave her. He understood, more and more, why Växborg had been willing to risk anything and defy anyone to possess her.

“Fine,” he bit out, finishing the call. He looked back up at the balcony, deliberately allowing his eyes to meet hers. She instantly jumped back as if she’d been burned, shrinking back into the shadows of the balcony.

So she felt it then, too, this strange connection between them.

Xerxes still remembered the way she trembled when he’d kissed her on the plane. He’d called her clumsy and it had been true. For a beautiful woman, she’d been astonishingly inept. He still recalled the way her lips had moved so tremulously against his own, as if she had no idea how to move her lips into a kiss. But clumsy was only part of it. He hadn’t told her the rest—that somehow, it had also been the most erotic kiss he’d ever experienced. He’d felt the passion of her brief surrender in a way that nearly brought him to his knees with the force of his own desire.

And then she’d slapped him.

He’d known from that moment that he would have her. Innocent or not, he would have her.

His promise not to kiss her until she begged for it was real, but it was strategic. He wouldn’t break his word. He wouldn’t have to. After that kiss, when he’d felt her passion and fire, he’d known it would be the easiest thing in the world to use her own sensuality against her and sweep her into bed.

In no time at all, she would beg him to kiss her. Just as every woman did.

Seducing Växborg’s mistress before Xerxes traded her would be the final twist of the knife against his enemy. Especially since he would make sure Rose enjoyed it beyond measure.

Xerxes snapped his phone shut. He looked back at the empty balcony, covered by twisting bougainvillea in shadows as rapidly moving clouds passed over the morning sun.

“Rose,” he said with a low laugh. “I can see you.”

A moment later, she stepped forward, blushing. “Oh, hello,” she said, visibly wincing. “I, er, didn’t see you there.”

Xerxes gave her a smile. “Come down,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

But she didn’t immediately move to obey, as any other woman would have done. She just blinked at him, tilting her head. “What?”

Truthfully, he wanted to show her his bed, his naked body, and how thoroughly he could arouse her with his tongue, but all that would have to wait. “My house,” he said smoothly. “You might be here for some time. You should know your way around.”

“Thanks, but I’ll just stay up here. In my room.” Where it’s safe, her tone seemed to imply.

He smiled up at her. “Come, Miss Linden. Your captivity doesn’t have to be a prison. There’s no reason you can’t enjoy yourself while you’re with me. Come downstairs.”

She hesitated, then shook her head, her cheeks a charming shade of pink. “No, thanks, really. I’ll, um, see you later,” she said, then disappeared back into her bedroom.

She was afraid to even be around him. He almost laughed aloud. Seducing her would be even easier than he’d thought. If he were exceptionally clever he might have her flat on her back before noon.

If she wouldn’t come downstairs, he would go to her. Whistling an old Greek folk song, Xerxes walked back inside his sprawling villa and went down the hallway toward the stairs. His cell phone vibrated and he answered, “Novros.”

“Let me talk to Rose,” Lars Växborg demanded.

At the sound of the man’s peevish, aristocratic voice, Xerxes veered from the hallway and went into his private office. He went to the far window with its magnificent view of the sea, and replied coolly, “Has your divorce been finalized yet?”

“Practically. I’m in Las Vegas. I’ve signed the papers. With all your influence and mine, it’s been expedited. It’s as good as done. Let me talk to her.”

“No.” Initiating a divorce meant nothing, as they both knew perfectly well. Until the final ruling, it could be canceled at any time. Xerxes sat down in his chair. “You can speak to Rose when we make the trade.”

“Damn you! Have you touched her? Tell me! Have you kissed her?”

“Yes,” Xerxes said with dark pleasure.

“You bastard!” Växborg choked out. “What else have you—”

“Just one kiss,” Xerxes said, then added ominously, “so far.”

“You filthy brute, don’t you touch her! She’s mine!”

Xerxes gave a low, deliberate laugh. “Complete your divorce. Return Laetitia to me as fast as you can. Before I forget my duties as host and entertain myself with your would-be bride. Before I enjoy Rose’s body in my bed, over and over, until she forgets your name.”

“Don’t touch her, you bastard!” Växborg nearly shrieked. “Don’t even think about—”

Xerxes hung up, still smiling to himself. Then he heard a noise and looked up.

Rose was standing in the open doorway, her mouth wide.

“You heard?” he said finally.

“I just came…came downstairs to see…to see…” She swallowed, staring across the shadowy office. Her beautiful face looked stricken as she whispered, “You intend to seduce me just to hurt Lars? Your promise not to kiss me was a lie?”

“No, Rose, listen—”

She put her hands over her ears. “Don’t even try to explain. You’re a liar,” she said, backing away. “Just like him!”

Turning, she ran out of the office.

With a muttered curse Xerxes raced after her. She was astonishingly fast for a woman so petite, and ran all the way down the hall and out the back door of the villa before he was even out of his office. Outside, he pursued her past the pool and halfway up the hillside, toward the vineyard.

The sky had grown dark with gray clouds as he grabbed her. She struggled to escape, clawing at him, her chest lifting beneath her snug, thin top with every pant of her breath. “Let me go!”

He pushed her against a rough stone wall. “Quit calling me a liar. I always keep my promises,” he ground out. “Always.”

“But you said—”

“I insinuated the worst to Växborg because I want him scared of what I might do to you. It is the only way he will divorce Laetitia and give up her fortune.”

Rose abruptly stopped struggling. Tears were streaming down her eyes. “Why are you so determined to save her?” she whispered. “Who is she to you? Tell me!”

“Don’t tell anyone. Ever.” Xerxes remembered the fury in Laetitia’s dark, beautiful eyes as they’d spoken for the first and last time. “It wasn’t enough for you to destroy my father. Now you want to kill my mother as well? You must never speak a word of this to anyone. Promise me.”

Now, in the distance, Xerxes heard thunder rolling low across the sky. He could still feel the same bleak hollowness in his gut he’d felt that day.

He looked down at Rose in his arms, so petite, so impossibly beautiful. He heard the whisper of her breath. He looked into her wide turquoise eyes, a sea of emotion for a man to drown in. Her pink, full mouth, natural and bare of makeup, parted as she licked her lips.

Clenching his hands into fists, he released her.

“I did not lie,” he said in a low voice. “I will not kiss you unless you ask me.”

Beneath the deepening shadows of the approaching storm, Rose looked up at him, tilting her head. “You don’t intend to seduce me?”

“I want to seduce you,” he said in a low voice. “It’s all I can think about. But I gave you my word. I won’t so much as kiss you.”

She took a deep breath. “Oh.” She stared down at the ground. “Lars said he still wanted to trade for me?”

“He arrogantly assumes he will win back your heart.”

Clenching her jaw, she shook her head vehemently. “Never.” She lifted her luminous eyes to his. “You know, you saved me from making the greatest mistake of my life yesterday. And you are keeping your promise to me. So you can’t be all bad. I was thinking you can’t be…”

“I am,” he bit out. “All bad.”

“But you’re risking everything to save Laetitia,” she said softly. “That is hardly selfish.”

“I am saving her for my own reasons. Because…”

“Because?”

“Because I made a promise to protect her.”

Rose gave a slow nod. “Which just proves my point.”

Xerxes gave a low laugh. He took pride in keeping his word, starting with the promise he’d made to himself as a young, scared, lonely boy of five, abandoned by both parents, when he’d sworn he would someday find them again.

“I keep my promises,” he said grimly. A flash of lightning illuminated the dark clouds. “That doesn’t make me good.”

“Who is Laetitia, Xerxes? Tell me.” Rose moved closer, looking up into his face. A moment ago, she’d been angry, but now, she was touching his arm, her gaze curious and tender. “Is she your friend?”

Her small hand rested lightly on his skin, and he shuddered beneath that gentle touch. He had to fight the impulse to draw his arm away—or crush her small body beneath the force of his embrace. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Your…lover?”

He looked away.

“Do you love her?”

Xerxes turned to look down at her, his eyes locking with hers as the first drops of rain started to fall from the gray sky.

“Yes,” he bit out. “I love her.”