The Drakon Baby Bargain. Tara Pammi

knew, just as Nik did, that the ruthless Spaniard had left her no way out. He knew she’d do anything for her brothers. And Angelina too.

      Gabriel held all the cards but Eleni had the blood of stubborn warriors in her veins, however tainted her father had thought it.

      She didn’t intend to let the arrogant Spaniard take anything that she didn’t want to give.

      * * *

      She had come to him finally, bristling with righteous fury.

      And dressed to kill.

      Gabriel watched, transfixed, as Eleni Drakos waited by the steps, awareness jolting him.

      The white stone of the restaurant showed off that innate elegance, that quiet grace of hers, reminding him that legitimate or not, she was very much from the illustrious House of Drakos.

      The setting sun caught the copper highlights in her shoulder-length hair. Her face didn’t have those arresting, stark angles her brothers’ did. Nor symmetric features, with her too-proud nose that was clearly inherited from her father. She was neither conventionally beautiful nor had the haughty elegance of a woman born to one of the most distinguished royal houses of the world.

      And yet there was a fresh, voluptuous beauty to her form.

      The pink fabric of her dress barely kissed her knees and skimmed her lush curves like a lover’s hands every time the breeze pressed it against her body. A white metal ring circled her neck, from which the dress flowed down. It bared her rounded shoulders, exposing miles of golden skin.

      Up close, the dress was an invitation to sin. A birthmark on her fragile collarbone, the rounded curve of her hip, those long fingers of hers that she used to tuck a stray lock behind her ear—everything about her hit Gabriel like a blow to his solar plexus.

      Why had no man stolen her away from under her brothers’ control?

      What had he been thinking, taunting her with the promise of desire between them?

      “You’re staring, Mr. Marquez.”

      Something floral floated toward him. “I’ve never seen you in a dress, Princesa. You look—” he leisurely swept his gaze over her, and saw a rewarding blush steal up through her cheeks “—stunning.”

      “And of course you’re surprised by that,” she said dismissively. If he weren’t obsessed with every small detail about her, he would have missed the quiver in her voice. The quick flick of her lashes to hide the widening of her eyes.

      Was she truly so unused to a man’s attentions? Had no man ever wanted her? Touched her? The last thought consumed him. He frowned. “Surprised? What do you mean?”

      “You thought I would come here with my tail tucked between my legs, desperate for your promise. Desperate for your—”

      The picture she painted made him smile. “If you keep saying it, I promise, Princesa. I will begin to like it.”

      “Like what?”

      “You being desperate for me. In any and every way.”

      She gasped, her eyes voluptuously wide in her lush face before she flicked those thick lashes down.

      The lower lip jutted out in a silky pout. Painted a soft pink, her mouth was a lush invitation. “I needed to feel good about myself today, Mr. Marquez. Sort of like being equipped for war.”

      “This is war for you?”

      “Are you saying it isn’t? I don’t bend to your will like every other being on the planet so you threaten what I hold most dear. The last thing I need is to be riddled by my own insecurities in the midst of it. I have no intention of letting the press coin another—”

      “I do not agree with the—”

      “You’ll find that I’m the most sensible, practical woman you’ve ever met and yet you have the...alarming ability to make me lose my faculties.”

      He stared at her slack-jawed for a few beats before he burst out laughing.

      Shoulders rigid, hands fisted, she stood with a patient look.

      “Here I assumed you’d dressed up for the simple reason of impressing me. That you were hoping to make me lose my faculties.”

      The tight purse of her lips said it had crossed her mind. “How I dress reflects on my brothers and the House of Drakos, so really, this—” she did a sweeping movement with her hand over her dress, and Gabriel smiled “—has nothing to do with you, Mr. Marquez. You have made the little squabble between us into a national matter. I...could give it no less importance.”

      Gabriel felt a sting of irritation at the mention of her brothers. He held her elbow and nudged her toward the entrance of the restaurant.

      “My daughter’s happiness is not a little squabble.”

      “It isn’t.” She sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Which is the only reason I’m here to negotiate. Nikandros would rather you sink everything than let me come here, let me bargain with my life. But I can’t allow you to go on some macho rampage on Drakon just because you aren’t getting your way. Neither can I bear to ignore the fact that I miscalculated.”

      “Miscalculated what?”

      Such raw emotion flickered in her big eyes that Gabriel took a step back. Used to sophisticated, modern women, who, like him, thought emotions were weaknesses, who played games with his head and body, the Princess was a whiplash against his senses.

      “How my departure might affect Angelina. I didn’t realize how attached she has grown to me, how she could see this also as abandonment.” Her mouth trembled, her eyes wide in her face. “The sounds of her tears won’t leave me alone.”