He still intended to coldly seduce her. He still meant to take his pound of flesh for what she’d done. And if he were her husband, his power over her would increase tenfold.
Just give in, her thought whispered. Give in to her desire. Give in to his power. Then he couldn’t send her away from Misha ever again. She would be his wife. She would be above Lindsey and the other women like her—she would be Mrs. Stavrakis. And though Nikos hated her now, perhaps someday…
No. She had to get a hold of herself. Even if someday Nikos forgave her, she would never, ever forgive him. He didn’t love her. And it was worse than that. He didn’t even trust her enough to work or to make any decisions about her own life.
He said he wanted to protect her, but he really wanted to lock her away, like a parakeet in a tiny gold cage.
Could she put aside every ounce of pride and self-preservation and marry a man who hated her? Allow herself to be bound to him forever?
“No,” she whispered.
His dark eyebrows pushed together like a storm-cloud. “What did you say?”
She trembled at his anger even as she braced herself for more. She wouldn’t bend. She wouldn’t submit. She wouldn’t sell herself for the hopeless, destructive illusion that he might someday trust her, respect her, love her.
“I said no.” Snapping the box shut, she held it out to him. “Sorry, Nikos. I’m not for sale.”
CHAPTER FIVE
NIKOS stared at her, hardly able to believe his ears.
“Don’t you understand?” he said. “I’m giving you what you wanted. I’m making you my wife.”
“How very generous. But I only wanted that when I was in love with you. Not anymore.” When he didn’t take the box, she tossed it on the table between them. Such a small thing, but it separated them like a stone wall two feet thick. “Now I just want to be free.”
She shifted in her chair, brushing her dark hair off her bare shoulders. He looked around the restaurant that they’d conceived together. To his fevered imagination it seemed that every man in the room was watching Anna. Her lovely pale skin, the dark hair cascading in riotous waves down her back, those almond-shaped turquoise eyes challenging him. The beige halter top barely covered her full breasts, and her dark low-rise jeans revealed her flat belly.
God, she was gorgeous. He’d never wanted her more.
“You will marry me, Anna,” he said. “We both know it will happen.”
“Death and taxes are inevitable. But marriage?” She gave him a humorless smile. “No.”
“I don’t particularly want to marry you, either. But my son’s happiness means more to me than my own.”
He saw her lips tighten at that. Good, so she understood how much he cared for Michael.
But there was more to it than that.
From the moment Nikos had seen Anna dancing with Victor Sinistyn in the club, something had changed in him that he couldn’t explain. He only knew that Anna belonged to him and no other man. He had to stamp his possession on her for all the world to see.
The idea had haunted him. In the club, on his motorcycle, as he’d walked with Anna through the casino. He’d kept thinking it would be simple enough to marry her. Hell, they were already in Las Vegas. And once she wore his ring he knew she would be utterly loyal to those vows. There would be no more arguments or fear of betrayal. No custody battle splashed in the papers. It was the perfect solution.
He’d just never thought she would refuse him.
“You will marry me for the sake of our son.”
“Never.”
Nikos raked a hand through his dark hair in frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was accustomed to his employees rushing to fulfill his orders, and his mistresses had always done the same.
“You will be rich—richer than your wildest dreams,” he pointed out. “I will deny you nothing.”
She snorted incredulously. “You think I care about that? If I’d wanted to marry for money, I could have done it long ago.”
“Meaning you’d have married Victor Sinistyn?”
“Yes. I could have.” She paused. “I could still.”
Nikos tightened his hands into fists, cracking his knuckles. A flood of unwelcome emotion swept through him.
He remembered watching Anna in the dance club, the way she’d swayed against Sinistyn, gyrating beneath the flashing lights. He remembered the way the skin on her taut belly had glistened, how her low-slung jeans had barely covered her hips as she swayed.
No other man but Nikos should touch her. Ever.
Especially not Victor Sinistyn. How could Nikos allow Anna to throw herself away on a man like that? How could he allow his son to have this man for a stepfather.