‘Yes, it does.’

Before I could express pleasure in the thought, the gleam in his eyes arrested me.

‘Is this how you wish to spend your wedding night, Calypso? Discussing art?’

The nerves rushed back and my hand trembled. ‘What if it is?’

‘Then I suggest you might want to be in more comfortable attire than that gown?’

Again, his eyes raked me, sending heat spiralling through me.

‘Is this a ploy that usually works for you?’

One corner of his mouth lifted before his eyes darkened. ‘Like you, I’ve never been married, so we both find ourselves in strange waters. Either way, the dress is going to have to come off one way or the other.’

‘And if you don’t like what is underneath...?’ I dared. ‘Will you send me back?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Is that what you’re hoping for?’

Was it? I could have sworn my answer would be yes until actually faced with the question. But the word stuck in my throat, refusing to emerge as he sauntered towards me, taking a moment to discard the crystal tumbler so both his hands were free to capture my shoulders when he stopped in front of me.

‘What I’m hoping for is that you will stop dishing out those enigmatic smiles and tell me what you meant earlier,’ I said.

He frowned. ‘You’ve lost me,’ he drawled.

‘When you said if we were to consummate this marriage? Are you incapable of doing so? If so perhaps you should get one of your staff to show me where I’m to sleep.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think you just issued me a challenge,’ he drawled, in a voice that ruffled the tight nerves beneath my skin.

His scent filled my nostrils, his calm breathing propelling my attention to his sculpted chest, to the pulse beating steadily at his throat. To the magnificent vitality of his skin and the sheer animalistic aura breaching my tightly controlled space. Screaming at me to notice his masculinity. And not just to notice. He drew me with a power I’d never known before. I didn’t just want to breathe him in. I wanted to touch. Explore. Taste.

That sensation was so strong I stepped back, eager to diffuse it.

The hands that held me stemmed my movement, and hard on the heels of my immobility came the realisation that I wanted to stay right where I was. But I didn’t want him to know that.

‘Well? Are you?’ I taunted.

A mysterious smile tilted one corner of his lips before his hands slid down to my elbows. ‘It should be easy enough to prove, matia mou.’

Just like that I was hit with the reality that this was my wedding night. That I was all but taunting him into...possessing me.

The thought sent a shiver through me. Coupled with something else. Something way too close to the forbidden desire that had coursed through me when I’d allowed myself to dream of this day some time in the dim and distant future, when I was out from under my father’s thumb and free to have a boyfriend. A lover. A husband.