Bound to Me Read online

  Borrowing clothes from her sister’s closet was a lot more fraught for her than it was for other teenagers.

  She remembered so clearly sitting down and crying in her father’s office when she’d seen it, and Ajax coming in. He’d been visiting, taking time out from his own corporate empire that was making a serious statement in the business landscape. But he’d always made time for them. He’d always felt like a part of the Holt family.

  “I’m so humiliated, Ajax!” she’d wailed. “How will I ever live this down?”

  Ajax had looked at her, dark eyes impassive. “If you don’t want to be compared to your sister, stop putting yourself in the position. You’re different. You will never be her, so stop trying.” He’d knelt in front of her then. “And you must never let them see you cry. Never give them anything they can use against you. An unbreakable target is not a satisfying one.”

  He was right, then and now. She wasn’t Rachel. Not even close. And so she’d made an effort to look as different as possible from her sister. And she’d never let them see her cry.

  Leah had become the snarky one, the one with the acerbic wit, the businesswoman who didn’t care what the press said and didn’t waste time trying to court them.

  She’d become her own person. Her own very guarded person.

  Unless she was with Ajax. With him, she’d felt free to show herself. She’d poured her heart out to him. Hours spent tailing him at the estate replaced with spending time in his office after school.

  And she’d left him treats. Ajax wasn’t demonstrative, but she always saw the candy wrappers in the trash bin the next morning. And it always earned her a smile. A small one, but from Ajax, it had been gold.

  And with those small smiles a girlish crush had turned into love. She’d been so close to telling him, too. One night when there were few people left in the Holt building and they’d been alone in his office. But she’d lost her nerve.

  And by the end of the week, he’d announced that he intended to marry Rachel.

  Never let them see you cry.

  His words had played over and over in her mind that day, as her dreams, her fantasies, had been crushed like a rose in an iron fist. She hadn’t gone to his office after that. She hadn’t left any candy on his desk again.

  She hadn’t shown a crack in her facade since.

  But no matter how she played it, she still didn’t like what the press wrote about her, and she knew this would be no exception.

  Round-ish Candy Tycoon to Wed Man Way Out of Her League in Desperate Last-Minute Substitution at Wedding!

  There was a headline she could live without.

  But it was likely unavoidable. All right, it wouldn’t say round-ish, but still. There would be an implication. Especially since she owned candy stores. They loved that about her. That she’d grown up to sell candy. It made for such delightful headlines, filled with the suggestion that she overindulged in her own product.

  And she would be standing there, next to Ajax, who was physical perfection. She was sure she would look like a little marshmallow in comparison. A little marshmallow with cleavage.

  “Leah.” Her father walked into the room, and Leah whirled around toward the sound of his voice. He looked as shell-shocked as she felt. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Leah nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  She felt dizzy, light-headed.

  You know what this is. You signed the agreement. There will be an end date on this marriage. He’ll probably never even touch you.

  But fantasy and reality were having a head-on collision and it was hard to remember how she was supposed to feel. Who she was supposed to be. It was hard to keep her mask in place while the world shook beneath her feet.

  “I want to do this,” she said, her voice hushed.

  The expression on her father’s face changed, as if he was seeing deep inside her. “I see.” He extended his arm. “Then let’s go. I confess, I was not ready for you to be married yet.”

  She wanted to shout that he didn’t see. Because there was nothing to see. Instead, she cleared her throat. “I’m twenty-three.”

  “But still. With Rachel I knew it was coming. I was much more ready for her to marry. And I knew...I knew Ajax’s intentions for a long time. The moment his feelings toward Rachel changed, he told me.”

  “Six years,” Leah said, knowing the exact moment, the exact hour. Because the memory was still so raw, no matter that it shouldn’t be.

  “She wanted to live more first. She was only twenty-two when he fell in love with her. And you don’t want to live?”

  “I can still live with a husband,” she said. “I’ll be married, not dead.” And probably not married for that long. Or in truth.

  “That’s true. But you are still my baby.”

  She breathed in deep, fighting against the tight ache in her throat. “Dad, I haven’t lived at home in years.”

  “I know.”

  “And Ajax is like a son to you.”

  Her father stopped walking and looked at her. “And if he hurts you, I will personally see him undone.”

  She blinked. “He won’t.” She would make sure he wouldn’t. Her armor was solid; it wouldn’t break now. In spite of her moment of flailing insecurity back in the dressing room, she would make sure her armor held.

  Anyway, Ajax didn’t have a foothold in her life anymore. Not in her emotions at least. She might still find him physically attractive, but she wasn’t hopeless over him anymore.

  They stopped talking then, because they were in the foyer, and just beyond that was the courtyard, where everything had been prepared for the wedding. Rachel’s wedding. None of it was to her taste. Leah was more whimsical, her sister a sophisticate. Everything was white at Rachel’s wedding.

  Too damn bad she hadn’t shown up.

  Leah swallowed hard as the doors opened and the sunlight poured in, painting her in white, too. The only color was the sea beyond the stone-covered courtyard, a blue jewel against the sun-washed sky.

  She started descending the steps, and the guests stood, a gasp and ripple of whispers rustling through the crowd, audible even over the string quartet that was playing. She knew what they were saying. They were wondering why. Why her?

  Why not the beautiful sister? Surely, everyone would know Rachel had left. Because there was no way Ajax would have preferred her. And everyone would know that.

  She’d always imagined she would marry here. In Rhodes. But it hadn’t looked like this in her mind.

  She raised her eyes and saw Ajax, standing at the head of the aisle, and her heart just about burst through her chest, nerves, remnants of old dreams converging on her, making it hard to breathe. Ajax had always been in her fantasies. Always. Of course, in her fantasies of old as she drew nearer to him on her trip down the aisle, he had smiled. He hadn’t looked at her like she was judge, jury and executioner come to hand him a terrible sentence.

  But that’s how he looked now. Grim. Like a man at the gallows, not the altar.

  She tightened her hold on her father’s arm and continued down the aisle, looking anywhere but at Ajax. What was she doing? She couldn’t back out. She was halfway down the aisle, the man had already been jilted once today. And as they drew closer, the ache in her heart intensified, a swollen mass of emotion growing in her, choking her.

  And logic couldn’t talk her out of it. Her mind telling her that she shouldn’t feel anything for him, did nothing to stop it.

  Where was her armor? How had this sneaked beneath it?

  They stopped at the head of the aisle, and Leah just about stopped breathing.

  “Who gives this woman to this man?” The pastor’s voice was thin, distant. Like he was underwater.

  “I do.”

&nb
sp; Her father sounded the same way, so maybe it was just her.

  And then he kissed her cheek and she was moving toward Ajax. He extended his hand, and she took it. He had never held her hand before. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t think he’d ever touched her skin.

  Heat assaulted her, starting at her cheeks, spreading to her ears. Oh, good. Now she was blushing. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she get a grip?

  Why did this feel so real?

  It’s not real. It’s just business. It’s for Leah’s Lollies. It’s for Holt. It’s not for you.

  He took her other hand, too, turned her to face him. Terror streaked through her, and on its heels, an emotion so big, so real, she couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t push it down. It grew, it bloomed in her, alive, strong.

  In that moment, reality melted away, and fantasy won out.

  Surely this was only a fantasy. With her in a wedding gown and Ajax, looking like perfection in a tux, how could it be anything else? It couldn’t be real. This was a dream, the dream she used to have when she was a teenager. It wasn’t real.

  He said his vows, his voice steady. Strong, without emotion, but then, that was how he was. She spoke hers without stumbling, and there was this strange, underlying conviction that each word was the truth. That there would be no one but him, forever.

  There never had been, not for her. It was Ajax. Always.

  She could feel the walls inside of her start to quake. Start to crumble. All of that supposed hard edge she’d cultivated. All of her defense.

  “You may now kiss the bride.”

  Leah’s heart stopped, and for a moment, so did the world. Her focus dropped to Ajax’s lips. How many times had she thought about kissing those lips?

  It was her last thought before he wrapped his arm around her waist and dipped his head, his mouth covering hers.

  She hadn’t been prepared. Not for the heat, the flash of pure fire that raced along her veins. She found herself lifting her arms, curling her fingers around the lapels of his suit jacket.

  She’d expected something chaste, something appropriate for a thousand pairs of eyes, for two people who had barely ever touched, but that wasn’t what she got. What she got was a real, full-on kiss.

  He slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened eagerly, tasting him as he tasted her. She felt as if she was falling, but Ajax was there to hold her up, his arm a strong band around her waist, her fingers curled into his jacket like claws.

  She’d never been kissed like this. Not ever. And she’d never felt like this, either. Like she would die if he stopped touching her, like her skin was on fire. Her breasts ached, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. And the ache, low and strong between her thighs. An ache she knew only he could satisfy.

  And all of her expectations about the marriage were blown apart. And all she had were questions. Well, questions, a thundering heartbeat and the feeling of being horribly, hideously exposed.

  And then, suddenly, he pulled away and she nearly lost her balance. The guests were clapping, and the pastor was making his pronouncement, but she couldn’t pay attention. Her head was swimming, her legs shaking.

  “Smile,” Ajax whispered in her ear, and it kick-started her brain again.

  Never let them see you cry.

  So she did smile, a bright, false smile she didn’t feel, and he led her down the aisle as the band played.

  They went back up the stairs. Into the house.

  The doors closed behind them, and Ajax started loosening his tie.

  “Don’t we need... Should we... The photographer.”

  “Do you honestly think I want pictures?” he asked, his voice rough.

  “I...I had thought... It’s our... We paid for the photographer.”

  “I’m sure the press in attendance got enough. I am not interested in posing for photos. What I would like is alcohol.”

  “You don’t drink.”

  “Not usually.”

  Never. She’d never seen him drink. That wasn’t the best for her ego. That marrying her was driving him to drink.

  “What about the reception?”

  “I am far too eager to take you back to my villa and consummate the marriage,” he said, his tone dry as sand. “We’ll have to skip it.”

  “Wh...what?”

  “We’re leaving. Now.” She didn’t want to leave now. Not while she felt so...shaken.

  But they were.

  He took her hand again, and they went out the other direction, out the front doors, where there was a limo idling. He opened the back door for her and she got in. He gathered up the skirt of her dress and put it in behind her before getting in and closing the door.

  He looked out the window and she followed his gaze to the photographer standing on the step. “Let’s give him a picture,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.

  “The windows are tinted.”

  “He’ll work around that. It’s his job to get the shot after all.”

  He hauled her to his body, her breasts, precariously close to making an exit from the bodice of her dress, pressed against his hard chest. And then, for the second time in the space of five minutes, she was being kissed by Ajax Kouros.

  After consigning Ajax to the “fantasies that were never going to happen” bin, two kisses in such short succession were shocking.

  His tongue delved deep, tasting her, sending a shock wave through her, straight to her core. And again, she found herself responding, helplessly, intensely. She speared her fingers through his hair, held on to him for all she was worth.

  She couldn’t pretend she didn’t feel this. Couldn’t pretend that the touch of his lips against hers didn’t light a fire in her body. Couldn’t pretend that no matter what her emotions were doing, no matter how she’d shut them down, she’d never wanted a man the way she wanted Ajax.

  He removed his lips from hers and pressed a kiss to her neck, down lower, lower...oh...yes.

  Then he lifted his head. “Drive,” he said, the order clearly meant for his driver and not for her. He kissed her neck again, his tongue tracing a circle over her skin before the limo exited the driveway of her family’s estate and went out onto the main winding road that led back down to the highway.

  Then, he moved away from her, all of the heat from the earlier moment completely gone. As if cold water had been thrown on a flame.

  “What was...all that?”

  “I was not in the mood to deal with questioning—were you?”

  “I... No, I suppose not.”

  “We’ll need to get a story together, one that matches, before we talk to the press.”

  “Right, okay, I see the merit in that.” Her lips felt swollen and hot, and she felt dizzy. What had just happened to her? She looked down at her hand, where he’d placed a ring only moments before, and she wondered if she was involved in some kind of weird dream.

  “There will have to be an explanation for why it was you and not Rachel who walked down the aisle today.”

  “And the truth won’t work? That she realized she loved someone else?”

  The expression in his eyes could only be described as fierce. “No, it does not. Would it be so simple for you?”

  “I suppose not. But please let’s come up with an answer that doesn’t completely burn my pride. I’ve had enough of that in the media.”

  “We both have issues of pride, it seems. I do not intend to hurt you, Leah, but none of this was part of my plan.”

  “Clearly.”

  “I imagine it wasn’t a part of yours, either.”

  “Well, this morning I was getting ready for my sister’s wedding, and it turned out to be my wedding. And now I’m married and sitting in a limo on my way to...I don’t even know where. Maybe you told me, but I forg
ot because that’s just the kind of day it’s been.”

  “My home. We weren’t planning on going on a honeymoon until things had started settling at Holt.”

  “Are you going to New York?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. But I will be working from my office here on getting things in order. Your father has left everything in magnificent working order, and the transition has been well under way for a while, but even so...”

  “Business first. I don’t have anything to wear,” she said. “I have this dress. I don’t have...panties.” The words sort of slipped out, horrifying her as they did. She didn’t feel savvy, or self-contained, or well-protected. She felt dazed. “I don’t have deodorant. My suitcase is back at the house.”

  “I will have all new clothes sent over if you like. And your things from New York.”

  “My things from... What?”

  “You’ll be living here with me. We will of course travel to New York, but we’ll stay in my penthouse there, not in your apartment or flat or whatever it is you have.”

  “It’s a very nice apartment.”

  “We will live together. We are husband and wife after all.”

  “Oh. Right. Yes. We are.”

  “You sound shocked.”

  “Are you not?”

  He looked her over, dark eyes assessing. “I am a hard man to shock, Leah, but all things considered, I am a bit.”

  He was so dry, so condescending. It wasn’t fair that he was so in control. That his mask never slipped. Because she was confused and a little freaked and kind of in internal upheaval and he just...wasn’t.

  He was all cold and calm and stare-y.

  Blessed reality was starting to trickle in. Cold. Unflinching. It provided a harsh portrait of her slipups over the past few minutes. Over how stupid she’d let a couple of kisses make her when she knew better than to let that happen. Or, she at least knew better than to let anyone see it. She knew better than to reveal anything.