Wedding Night With Her Enemy. Melanie Milburne

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       CHAPTER TWO

      DRACO PICKED UP his champagne glass because, unless he gave his hands something to do, he knew they would be tempted to jump ahead a few spaces. He could wait. Sure he could. Allegra was all for keeping things on paper but he knew she would crack before the ink was dry on their marriage certificate.

      He knew she was attracted to him. She’d had a teenage crush on him, which had amused and annoyed him in equal measure back in the day. He’d been a little ruthless in handling her back then, but he hadn’t been interested in messing with a teenager, especially so soon after his break-up with the ex he’d thought he was going to marry. Back then, Allegra had been young and starry-eyed, fancying herself in love, and had needed to be put firmly in her place.

      But she was a woman now—a beautiful woman in the prime of her life.

      And he wanted her.

      Ever since London, Draco had realised Allegra was exactly what he was looking for in a wife. And when her father, Cosimo Kallas, had come to him for help, he had seized his opportunity and made his financial support conditional on marrying her. Besides, there were other men who were circling like sharks for the money her father owed them, men who he knew wouldn’t hesitate to go after Allegra next. He couldn’t stand by and let one of them force her into their bed to settle the debts he could pay without flinching. Who knew what might happen to her? Her father had angered a lot of his business associates. Draco wasn’t going to let anything happen to her because her father was a fool.

      Allegra was classy. She was well-educated, she was well-spoken and she was half-Greek. And, with her untouchable air, she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She could have graced a catwalk or been found starring on an old-world Hollywood movie set. She walked like a dancer, her slim figure moving effortlessly across the floor. Her glossy black hair was straight and hung almost to her waist. When she moved, it moved with her in a silk curtain that held his gaze like a super-powerful magnet. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining that silky black skein draped over his chest, her long, slender legs entwined with his.

      Draco suppressed a shudder of anticipation. He was hot for her. Seriously hot. So hot he only had to look at her and his blood would thunder. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. When she’d spilled her champagne, the silk of her blouse clinging wetly to the perfect globe of her breast had made his blood shoot south in a torrent. He had rarely touched her in the past. Since that kiss when she was a teenager, he had respectfully kept his distance because he hadn’t wanted any boundaries to be crossed. He had made it clear he wasn’t interested back then and he hadn’t wanted to give her mixed messages.

      Now was different.

      Their marriage wouldn’t be for ever, just long enough to secure the business and get Allegra out of his system. Draco had nothing against long-term marriage, but he couldn’t see himself doing the time.

      He had teased Allegra with that talk of an heir to suss out her feelings on the issue of children. It wouldn’t be fair to lock her into marriage—even a short-term one—if she was desperate to have kids. Thankfully, she wasn’t, and it was the last thing he wanted from this marriage. Given his childhood, he wasn’t sure he could ever see himself having a family.

      When his mother had died from a gangrenous appendix when Draco was six, he and his father had been a team intent on survival in a world that didn’t notice, let alone help, the desperately poor. Draco had a clear memory of walking with his fisherman father past the Kallas corporation headquarters one day only a month before his father’s death. His dad had looked up at the building with its shining brass sign and expressed how he wanted Draco to aim high, to dream big and bountiful, to make something of himself so he wouldn’t have to struggle the way he had done. When his father had been killed in a boating accident four weeks later, Draco had been left to fend for himself.

      But his father’s words had stayed with him, motivating him, fuelling his drive and determination. He’d clawed his way out of poverty, working several menial jobs while trying to get an education. At nineteen, he’d part-owned a business, and had gone on to own it fully when the partner had retired. He had gone from strength to strength after that, building and expanding each company he acquired. He was a self-made man and he was proud of it.

      No one could say he wasn’t a prize catch.

      Not now.

      And who could be a better wife for him than Allegra Kallas—the daughter of the businessman who owned the corporation his father had singled out that day with such aspiration? Acquiring the company would be a symbol of Draco’s success. A token of the dreams and hopes his father had had for him and that he had now fulfilled in his father’s honour.

      Draco watched her sipping her champagne, sitting there on one of the plush leather sofas. Her long legs were crossed, one racehorse-slim ankle moving up and down in a kicking motion—the only clue she was feeling agitated. Her expression had gone back to her signature cool mask of indifference, which was another thing that secretly turned him on. He was amused how she took that schoolmistress tone with him. When she tried to stare him down with those flashing, unusually dark blue eyes, it made him hard as stone. Harder. He could feel the throb of it even now.

      He’d wanted to kiss her. Of course he had. What man with even a trace of testosterone wouldn’t want to feel that lusciously soft mouth? He’d tasted those sweet, hot lips once and couldn’t wait to do it again. But he knew if he moved too soon it could shift the balance of power. He wanted his ring on her finger. He wanted her hungry. He wanted her begging. He wanted her to be honest about her lust for him. For lust after him she did. He should know the signs because he was experiencing them himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off her generous and supple mouth. Couldn’t stop thinking about that mouth opening over him, drawing on him, sucking him till he blew like the volcano Santorini was famous for.

      Draco met her eyes across the space that separated them. She raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, that starchy, English aristocratic, ‘I’m too good for the likes of you’ spark in her eyes making him want to carry her off fireman-style and СКАЧАТЬ