Demetriou Demands His Child. Кейт Хьюит

      ‘My father has a house here, but I’ve lived most of my life in the country.’ She tilted her head up to smile at him, her nose wrinkling and a new, wry expression lighting her eyes. She still held the mask to her face like the security blanket it so obviously was; her other hand rested lightly on his shoulder, a butterfly’s touch. Alekos had already fitted his palm to the delicate dip of her waist, his fingers fanning out along her hip. He could feel the warmth of her through the thin satin of her dress, felt her tremble slightly in his loose embrace.

      ‘The country?’ he prompted, determined to keep the polite chit-chat going and in doing so cool down his libido.

      ‘My father’s estate,’ she clarified with another appealing wrinkle of her nose.

      ‘Ah.’ A rich young heiress, no doubt, kept behind high walls until she was brought out to be admired and duly married off.

      Iolanthe laughed, the sound surprisingly low and throaty, and filled with genuine humour. ‘Yes, it is as boring as it sounds. I’ve been packed off to the country, practically wrapped in cotton wool. And now I suppose you will think me a dull conversationalist indeed.’

      ‘Not at all,’ Alekos returned smoothly. ‘I find you refreshing.’

      ‘Which makes me sound like a drink of water.’

      ‘Or the finest champagne.’ His gaze met hers and he saw awareness and heat flicker through her eyes. Why was he flirting with her? He didn’t seem to be able to resist. ‘Will you return to the country after this ball?’

      ‘Almost certainly, but I’d like to stay in Athens.’ Her face softened, her gaze distant. ‘I’d like to do something.’ A tiny sigh escaped her. ‘I feel like I’ve spent my whole life waiting. Have you ever felt like that?’ She lifted her gaze to his, and Alekos started at the wistful openness he saw there, the vulnerability and honesty he saw that he always fought so hard to hide in himself.

      ‘Sometimes,’ he allowed. The last four years had been a slow burn of waiting. Revenge was a long game. But he had no intention of telling Iolanthe any of that. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he asked. Marriage, no doubt, to someone dully appropriate.

      ‘For excitement,’ Iolanthe answered immediately, and Alekos heard both longing and eagerness in her voice. ‘Adventure—it doesn’t have to be something big. I’m not looking to scale mountains, or—I don’t know—pan for gold.’ She laughed, and again that throaty sound had desire sweeping through him, heat pooling in his groin. ‘Now I really sound like a fool.’

      ‘You don’t,’ Alekos assured her. She sounded young and hopeful and completely sincere. It was a surprisingly heady combination. ‘But what kind of adventure do you mean?’

      ‘Something...something that makes life worthwhile. Important, even.’ Iolanthe’s voice turned determined as her hand clenched instinctively on his shoulder. Alekos felt a corresponding surge of protectiveness that he barely understood. Yes, she was young and impressionable and naïve, but she was also a stranger. Why did he care? Why did it alarm him to think of her fragile dreams being shattered by the harsh realities of life? Just as his had once been, a cruel blow had left him reeling for years.

      ‘Important?’ he prompted, an edge entering his voice. Dancing with this wisp of a girl, hearing her whisper her dreams, was presenting him with far more of both an emotional and physical challenge than he’d ever anticipated. He wanted her in ways he couldn’t even begin to contemplate. He wanted to make her laugh again, and he wanted to kiss that soft pink mouth.

      ‘I suppose everyone wants to feel important,’ Iolanthe answered with a dismissive shrug of her slim shoulders. ‘And it’s not that I want to be important myself... I couldn’t care less about that. But I want to do something that makes a difference to somebody, even if it’s just something small. I want to live, not just watch other people do it, my nose pressed up against the glass.’ She laughed, and this time the sound was tinged with bitter resignation. ‘But what does it matter? I’m only likely to end up married.’

      The simply stated truth, one he’d already arrived at himself, now had him tensing in instinctive resistance. ‘Why do you say that?’

      She tilted her head to look up at him, the sparkle leaving her eyes, her mouth flattening. ‘I’m twenty years old and my father intends to choose my husband. The only reason I’m at this ball is to show myself off to suitable men.’ She practically spat the words out, her hand clenching on his shoulder.

      ‘Does he have one in mind?’ Alekos asked, hating the thought.

      ‘Maybe.’ Her expression tightened and she glanced away. ‘But I want to have some say in the matter.’

      ‘As you should.’

      ‘I don’t know if my father agrees.’ She sighed, the sound too weary for a young woman whose life should stretch ahead of her with nothing but promise and possibility. ‘But let’s not talk about that. I can’t bear to think about it, not when tonight is the only time I might be able to have fun and enjoy myself with the most handsome man at the ball.’ Her smile turned deliberately coquettish, and he saw the humour in her eyes, the acknowledgement that she was flirting shamelessly. It made him smile.

      ‘Indeed,’ he murmured, and whirled her about the dance floor.

      ‘I must sound ridiculous,’ Iolanthe said with another little laugh, her head tilted back so she could look up at him. ‘Wittering on about being important and changing things.’

      ‘You don’t sound ridiculous.’ Hadn’t he once been the same, burning with ambition, flying high on hope? Then he’d come crashing to the ground, and now the only thing he burned for was revenge. ‘I think everyone wishes to make a difference in life,’ he told her.

      ‘And you?’ She glanced up at him, her expression all open curiosity. ‘How would you like to make a difference?’

      Alekos hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. ‘I want to see justice done,’ he said finally, for that was certainly true. He wanted Talos Petrakis to pay for his crimes.

      Iolanthe gave him a small smile. ‘That certainly seems a worthy goal. Far more than I’ll ever achieve, I’m sure.’

      ‘Who knows what you might do?’ Alekos returned. ‘You are young, with your whole life in front of you. You don’t have to marry if you don’t want to.’

      She pursed her lips, considering his statement with perhaps too much seriousness. Who was he to encourage this naïve socialite to rebel? ‘What would I do if I didn’t marry?’

      ‘You could get a job. Go to university, even. What subjects did you like at school?’

      ‘I was tutored at home, but I always enjoyed art.’ She laughed. ‘Not that I possess enough talent to become a proper artist.’

      ‘You never know.’

      ‘You seem very optimistic.’

      He laughed, the sound harsh. That was one adjective that would never be attributed to him. ‘I just don’t like to see a young woman such as yourself closing down all her possibilities.’

      She smiled wryly. ‘I’m sure I seem very young and naïve compared to most of the women here.’ She nodded towards the crowd of sophisticated guests.

      ‘Most of the women here are jaded,’ Alekos said. ‘You are a breath of fresh air.’ Although he’d intended the words as mere flattery, he realised they held truth. Iolanthe’s inability to dissemble, the very innocence that had put him off, now intrigued and intoxicated him. He was disillusioned himself; he no longer trusted or cared for anyone. What would it be like to feel as Iolanthe yearned to, as if the world held nothing but possibility and hope? Once he’d felt it, as a child, but it seemed so long ago now he could barely remember the emotion, the happiness. He realised he didn’t want Iolanthe to lose her optimism, no matter what the future held for her. He didn’t want the flame he saw burning inside her to be extinguished so quickly