Page 34

Two Weeks Later

MANHATTAN

I still haven't given him any reply to the proposal that day at his friend's ranch. I'd like to try it, of course, but I have more reasons to leave him than to stay by his side.

I don't even know how to start analyzing this.

Despite agreeing that things between us have changed, I still don't know Odin. Dating someone is different from committing to that person for the long-term without knowing who they are exactly.

Yes, I know who he is when he's with me, but I don’t know anything about his past.

When we made the deal for a casual relationship, it didn't really matter, but now, looking ahead, how can I be with a man whose life I know nothing about?

I know what you must be thinking. I have my secrets too, right?

My excuse is that I haven't revealed them out of shame, but I think Odin hides his because he doesn't trust me.

For example, he hasn’t told me what he was doing in Greece the second time he went there. I only got confirmation of Orien's death from Theo. Odin never brought it up again, though I tried to ask about it.

God, just thinking that the place where I was born is the same place where a young man of my brother's age lost his life . . . It makes me want to throw up.

I understand it must be difficult to talk about that horrible story. It's almost unbearable for me, who's not even his relative, but that's no reason for Odin to keep me in the dark.

He also only told me last week that Aristeu had died. He totally leaves me out of everything that’s not specifically related to our relationship.

Since we've been back in New York, he hasn't directly asked me again about my decision to take our relationship to the next level, but he demonstrates in small ways that he wants it.

It's tempting, I confess, but I'm afraid of buying into an illusion and then, in the end, him realizing he can't stand being with me because I'm the daughter of the man he hates.

Odin said he knows I’m not Leandros, but I think it's my last name that prevents him from sharing everything with me.

I don’t know what to do.

I'm honest enough to admit that what I feel for him isn't just physical attraction. How could it be when he seems to work so hard to win my heart?

It's not in his declarations of love or anything like that but in the details. Small gestures that give me the feeling of having found something precious and unique. The hours of reading we spend together. Our fights and laughter and the way he can't seem to take his hands off me.

I'm definitely in trouble because every day my feelings for him continue to grow.

Inside the car, on the way to his office, my head doesn't stop for a minute as the driver navigates the streets of Manhattan. Should I reveal more of myself as a sign of trust? I expect him to share his story with me, but at the same time I give him very little in return. I'm closed off, even with Zoe. No one but my parents know the worst of my secrets. Neither do Theo or my sisters.

Maybe Zoe is right. It's ridiculous of me to demand trust when I don't give the same in return.

We’ve started talking every day on the phone, and now I can say that we are real friends.

She’s made an appointment for me with a speech therapist for the day before the masquerade ball. I'm terrified. What if he says there is no treatment for my condition? That I don't have dyslexia and that I'm just really dumb, like my dad always said?

All my life, he convinced me of this. He said that I was flawed and that I would never be able to learn.

Regarding the latter, however, I can guarantee that he was wrong. I've learned a lot throughout my life and especially since I came to live in New York.

At first, I was very afraid of not being able to organize a party worthy of Odin's name and fortune, but now I think it'll be a success. We've already sold all the available invitations, and we have a long waiting list for possible cancellations.

After I insisted, Odin took me to visit the institution to which the donation will go, and I couldn't sleep that night—both because I was impressed by the strength of those people to carry on, even though they were in pain, and because I imagined Odin, still small, an orphan, and recovering from the burns on his back.

He never told me with whom he stayed after surviving the fire, but I imagine it was a relative.

Was my father really responsible for that tragedy?

Odin said his mother was a traitor, and now I wonder if she was involved with Leandros. It was never a secret in our household that he had several mistresses. He flirted with women at our parties in plain sight, and my mother looked the other way, pretending not to notice.

But then killing his lover and her husband? I do think that even for him that seems to be a little too much.

Then I remember Orien. If what Theo said is true, my father was responsible for the boy's death.

I don't know how a murderer's mind works, because to me, if he killed Orien, that's what he is, whether he pulled the trigger or not. I think whoever ends the life of an innocent person has no conscience, and maybe that means he's done the same thing before.

God, that's a lot to process.

If that's true, how can Odin look at me every day knowing that I have Leandros's blood running through my veins?

That’s enough! If I keep pushing myself to unravel all the mysteries surrounding my boyfriend, I’ll go nuts.

Should I talk to Theo about it?

He's been calling me once a week, and little by little we're closing the emotional distance between us. My sisters, however, haven’t contacted me.

Every now and then I ask Odin about Mom, and he replies that, despite not having the exact location of where they are hiding at the moment, every time Leandros is spotted, Mom is with him, which makes me feel a little more at ease. I don't know if she would survive being abandoned. My mother has lived her life for love of my father.

However, I now realize that even after nearly thirty-five years together, she doesn’t know anything about her husband.

I don't want to be that person, a woman whose partner doesn't respect her or who doesn't trust her. I don't want to turn myself into a doll, a pretty ornament used only for sex and leisure time but who doesn't really know the person she has been living with.

When the car pulls up in front of the building, I wait for security to come and open the door. I'm used to this procedure now. The first time I tried to jump out without waiting for them, this guy Grigori came over and looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

He explained to me all the reasons why I should stay inside the car until one of his men opened the door, and I ended up agreeing so as not to upset him. I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me. Not because of anything he’s said, but because of the way he looks at me.

After I finally get out of the car, I'm escorted by bodyguards, and as we walk, I can see the curiosity on the faces of people on the sidewalk. I don't meet their eyes. I don't like to attract attention, and I control the urge to wring my hands. Showing fear will only make them think they can get to me. I learned my lesson well from my father .

We get into a private elevator, and now only half of the security guards accompany me. I'm nervous. It's the first time I’ve come to his office, although we've already attended several events as a couple.

I try to pretend I don't see the secretary's gaze as the elevator doors open. She evaluates every bit of me, but I don't fidget; I don't show that I'm bothered.

To my relief, in a few seconds, Odin appears in front of me. His expression makes me forget everything: the secrets we both keep from each other, how it’s not a good idea for us to think about a future together, how I might get hurt if I stay with him and hope for a happily ever after .

All those worries fade away when he reaches out to me without saying anything.

I walk over to where he is, as I do every night at our house, not even remembering that people are watching us. After placing my hand in his, I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his lips.

He looks surprised for a moment and then grabs the back of my neck, kissing me back.

The contact doesn't last long, because he places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me to his office and telling the secretary, “Hold all calls. I don't want to be interrupted.”

I pretend I don't notice the woman's astonishment.

As soon as I enter, I try to absorb as much information as I can. Even though we live together, his apartment doesn't say much about who he is.

Here in his office, it's different. It's all very Odin .

From the heavy, dark furniture to the black leather armchair. From the way everything is laid out neatly on his desk to the Persian rug I'm standing on.

It's like unraveling more parts of my man, and I look around, fascinated.

“Do you like it?”

I turn to face him. He's standing behind me, hands in the pockets of his suit pants.

I should be used to what seeing him does to me by now, but I'm still just as stunned as when I saw him the night of the party at his house .

“Very much. It suits you better than the apartment.”

“Before we started dating, I didn't spend enough time there to care.”His expression becomes concerned. “I didn't say it before, but you're free to change whatever you want in our home.”

My heart starts beating really fast, because even with my lack of relationship experience, I know what he's offering me. Odin is closed off, and that simple sentence shows me that he really meant what he said in our conversation in Montana.

I try so hard not to be happy, but I can't help it. “Anything?” I ask, trying to keep my face neutral.

“What?”

“Can I change anything?”

“Except my collection of old cars.”

Now I smile for real.

He, my powerful CEO—and to many others, a terrifying man—still has a boyish side.

Odin stirs my heart more than it’s wise for me to allow, but it’s too late to raise my shields.

“I wouldn't dare.”

Finally, he seems to realize that I'm joking. “You are a tease, my Elina.”

My Elina.

God, I'm starting to love hearing that.

“I like to tease you.”

He closes the distance between us and holds me by the butt while his mouth roams my neck. “Even knowing the consequences?”

“Maybe I'm hoping for them.”

Without warning, he lifts me up and sits me on his desk. Tucking himself between my legs, he lifts my skirt, and the thick, rough fingers for such a refined man make their way right into my panties.

“Oh…”

“I love your moans.” His other hand unbuttons my silk blouse. Without even opening it all the way, he lowers the bra cup and gnaws at my nipple hungrily.

He sucks, licks, and nibbles. Needing more from his mouth and hand, I prop my feet up on the table, spreading my thighs to give him better access.

Odin pulls back to look at me, and I want to scream in frustration.

“Take off your shirt,” I order.

He’s already stripped off his jacket, but I'm only going to be satisfied when he is naked and inside me.

“So bossy.”

“You started it, now you finish it.”

When he leisurely unbuttons his shirt and loosens his tie, I know exactly what to do to drive him out of control.

Still sitting on the table, I pull my panties halfway down my thighs.

He doesn't miss a beat, and the hands that open his shirt buttons seem more urgent now.

Odin loves to watch as I play with my body, so I let my middle finger gently caress my most sensitive spot. The idea was to tease him, but when I feel my wet flesh, a moan comes from the back of my throat.

There's such an animalistic desire on his face now that it makes me shiver. When he bends down and licks my inner thighs, I shiver from the feel of his stubble on the thin skin.

Instead of pulling away, however, I slide towards the edge of the table and offer myself to him. “I need you,” I beg.

He lays me down and, putting my legs over his shoulders, leans over and devours my sex with tongue and teeth.

I'm completely lost, I’ve surrendered to him, and when he lightly bites my pleasure point, I lift my hips to force him to give me everything. “I'm going to come.”

“Not yet.”

I didn't notice that he had unzipped his pants; keeping my legs over his shoulders, he enters me fully on the first try.

“Kiss me, or I'll scream,” I warn.

He smiles and leans back, covering me, sucking my mouth greedily. “You're perfect.”

“I don't care what I am, just don't stop.”

"Not even if I wanted to, my Elina. It's not up to me anymore.”