“Talia, you were born to be a Demetriou. Fate knew it, I know it, and one day you’ll know it, too. Too many things over the past decade have happened to lead to this exact moment for us to believe otherwise. At this point, we not only must accept it, but we must embrace it.” I pin her with a fierce look that I hope she can feel down to her pretty toes. “I, Kostas Angelo Demetriou, vow to protect you always from yourself, from others, and from me. When you take my name, you take a part of me, and I will treat you as though you are a valued piece of me. The truth you’ll come to learn is that I am yours now as much as you are mine. I vow to learn every part of you in hope you’ll want to learn every part of me. If you ever lose your way, I vow to find you and guide you back to a place where we can be truly happy. By taking my ring and my name, you’re taking me too. We’re bound in more ways than either of us can count. For me, it will be until death. And I vow to never let you go, even then.”
Tears slide down her red cheeks as she regards me with a mixture of confusion and worry. It makes me want to lick the tears right from her face and vow to her what I’ll do to make her scream a little later on. But, alas, Father completes the ceremony by asking us to exchange rings. She seems surprised when he hands her my titanium band that says Demetriou carved along the outside of the band. Inside, it has our initials and today’s date. Once she shakily slips my ring on my finger, I place a platinum one beside her massive diamond. Her ring, too, has the same inscriptions.
“By the powers vested in me and God, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Kostas Demetriou.” He smiles at me. “You may now kiss your lovely bride.”
Sliding my hands into her silky hair, I grip her and tilt her head back. Her lips part and a gasp escapes her. I brush my lips across hers in a warning kiss a second before I sear her with a claiming kiss. My tongue slides out to lash with hers. Eagerly, I devour her sweet moan of surprise. We kiss with me owning every breath and mewl until I decide we’ve given this old man enough of a show for today. Besides, I want to spend the entire day with my wife, making her whimper in other ways.
“Come now, wife, it’s time to go home.”
I hang up with room service and track Talia as she exits the bathroom. Like a good wife, she obeyed me when I told her to put on her swimsuit. Since the wedding, she’s not spoken a word to me. It’s like she’s shut down and closed me out.
Time to open up, zoí mou. My life.
While she looks out the window, I quickly change into some swim trunks and then walk over to the door in my room. I open it and grab her hand before guiding her out the back of the villa, to the secluded pool. In one corner of my private yard, beside the outdoor expandable daybed, a man from the hotel staff is setting up a small table with a pitcher of ice water. I give him a nod of my head before walking Talia over to it. The daybed is shaded from the bright sun with a white canopy.
“Thirsty?” I ask, nodding to the pitcher. “They’re bringing out food and some proper drinks soon.”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”
But she’s not fine. The poor girl is shaking like a leaf despite the hot sun blazing down on us. I take her hand again and guide her to the stairs of the pool.
“What are we doing?” she bites out.
“We’re going swimming.”
“Obviously. But what are we doing? I thought…you know…”
I step in the cool water and cock my head at her. “That we’d get right to the fucking?”
She scowls at me. “You’re an asshole.”
“You married me.”
Before she can huff and puff any more, I grip her hips and pull her back with me into the chilly water. She screeches, her hands going to my shoulders as though she can climb on top of me to keep from getting wet. A laugh rumbles from me as I dunk us both. When we reemerge, she sputters and gives me the worst go to hell look, which only makes me laugh more.
“What?” I ask innocently. “I prefer a little foreplay before I bed a woman.”
“You’re disgusting.”
I grip her ass in a hard, punishing way as I urge her to wrap her legs around me. Fear once again contorts her features. But, with firm urging, I manage to get her to lock onto me. She’s tense and her fingernails dig slightly into my shoulders.
“Relax,” I croon, walking her to the edge of the pool. “You don’t have to hold on so tight. I won’t let you go.”
She rolls her eyes, but my taunting her seems to have her losing some of her tension. Once I don’t think she’ll take off, I gently massage her ass.
“Kostas,” she mutters. “What are we doing?” she asks again.
I lift a brow as my gaze travels to her pouty mouth, then give her the same answer I already gave her. “Swimming.”
“But why?” she demands. “Your mom…your dad… You have a funeral to plan.”
Gritting my teeth, I look past her to where another hotel staff member walks over with a tray of food and begins setting it on our table. “I’m trying to enjoy the moment.”
Her wet palm slides to my face as she turns my attention back to her. “It won’t make what happened go away.”
“No,” I agree, stepping closer so that she can feel my erection pressed against her. “But it can freeze time and give me a fucking break.”
My harsh words make her flinch. “I’m scared,” she whimpers. “I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”
I press my lips to hers, kissing her softly and in a teasing way. “I’ll make it feel good.”
She opens her mouth to accept my demanding kiss. I gently grind against her cunt, wanting to tease her in every possible way. A whimper travels through her, more fear than excitement. With a sigh, I pull away and carry her out of the pool. She frowns at me the entire walk over to the daybed. I set her to her feet and then drape a large towel over her.
“Sit,” I command.
She rolls her eyes at me but curls up on the daybed. I fill up a plate with meats and olives and cheeses and crackers before handing it to her. Then, I wrap a towel around me and grab another plate. She scoots over and gives me room to sit. A warm breeze tickles around us as we eat in silence.
“I meant what I vowed,” I tell her when I finish up my food and set the plate down.
She frowns and hands me her plate. “Why, though?”
“Because marriage, to me, isn’t what they told me it had to be.” I know I sound like a pouting schoolboy, but I don’t care. I make my own destiny, not my father. Not Niles. Me.
A hotel staffer walks over to us with a chilled bottle of chardonnay. He pours us a couple of glasses. I instruct him to bring something a little more stout. I’m going to need it to get through today. After handing Talia her glass, I clink mine to hers.
“To us.”
She acts like she wants to say something, but in the end, she utters out, “To us.”
We spend the entire day eating, drinking, and swimming. Talia doesn’t say much, and frankly, I’m not in the mood to talk. She allows me to touch and kiss her, but always freezes up when she thinks I’ll do more.
“You’re drunk,” I state when she stumbles slightly on the way back to the daybed.