Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(35)

Marcus closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. Everything in her strained to go to him, to hold him. For all his power and control, Marcus was a man. Just a man. She’d seen him at his best, and at his lowest. He hid nothing from her.

Except, he had, hadn’t he? He’d hid his nature in plain sight. And she was the naive prey that had walked right into his trap.

I’m sorry. Her apology lay between them, small and inadequate against the huge debt.

He dropped his hand. He was the Lord of the Underworld once more, his expression carved from stone. Back in control.

“No, beautiful, you’re not. But you will be.”

He stalked out of the room. Cora shivered where he left her. Everything had turned around so quickly, she felt dizzy. She closed her eyes until soft footfalls jerked her attention back to Marcus.

Despite everything, her pulse fluttered at the sight of him, his huge bare chest dusted with dark hair.

“What’s going to happen? What will you do with me?”

“Whatever I want.” A shark-like smile. “You’re not going to die. You’re going to live a long, long time. By my side as my wife. Forever.”

How could he be so cold? So ruthless? How could she have been so foolish as to think he loved her? Now her wedding night was a nightmare. So much for happy endings.

She couldn’t help the tears that welled up and spilled down her cheeks.

“That’s right, gorgeous. Cry for me.”

That was when she saw what Marcus had picked up—his phone. He’d turned on the camera and was aiming it her way. Red rage bloomed in her head.

“No.”

“Yes.” Marcus backed away, like he was framing the perfect shot. “We’ve got to have some wedding photos to send your side of the family. It’s the least we can do considering your mom and your uncles couldn’t make it to the wedding.”

Her uncles? She didn’t even know she had uncles.

“Stop.” Her begging was muffled as she hid her face in her arm. “Please stop.”

“Look at me,” he ordered. “Cora.” His footfalls stalked closer. “This is happening.”

“No.” Think, she had to think. This was still Marcus. Inside the man, the monster, there was a powerful attraction to her. Maybe she could find an inkling of the Marcus who cared.

A hand closed around her wrist like an iron shackle. She resisted.

“Cora, I’m not going to ask you again.”

Her bones melted. She let him pull her hand away. He looked down at her and her body flushed under his scrutiny.

“You’re sick,” she bit out. Anything to deny her body’s pull to him.

“I won’t take the pictures, if you submit to me.”

Her laugh wracked her body. “How? It’s not like I can run away.”

“I’ll drop the camera if you submit to me. And act like a wife.”

“You mean like I love you?”

He inclined his head.

The cracks in her heart dripped poison. “I did love you, you know. That wasn’t a lie.”

“I know.”

“Was everything you said to me...was it all an act? Was it never real?”

He didn’t answer.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” she raised her chin. Pretending to be brave. “It’s not anything I haven’t done before.”

He was switching off the camera when he swung back to her, his normally grey eyes went black. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, did you think I was a virgin?”

He came back and covered her knee with his hand. He squeezed and her breath stuttered, betraying her. “I don’t think you’re a virgin,” he told her. “I know you are.”

She raised her chin. “I’ve had guys,” she lied. “Lots of them.”

He shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“It’s true.”

Marcus moved over her, his large body stretching head to toe with hers. His cologne mixed with the crisp linen scent of his white dress shirt. She was naked, he wasn’t, but coiled power rippling through him was visible in his taut muscles and the endless depths of his eyes. Heat crackled between them. “Lots of guys, huh? I’ll have to make you forget them.”

His touch seared her as it always did. Her legs trembled and she blinked at him, searching his face for any semblance of the man who took her in and cared for her.

And then she remembered his callous smile as he’d aimed a camera at her.

“I hate you.”

His eyes crinkled in a cold smile that didn’t touch his mouth. He tutted. “Is that any way to talk to your husband, wife?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Wife? That’s what you are.”

Her head jerked negative and his expression darkened. “Yes.” His hand rested on her tensed chest, sliding up to collar her neck. “My wife. Better or worse,” his gaze roved over her, his eyes gunmetal grey. “Rich or poor. Sick or healthy. Till death do us part.”

She closed her eyes at his mocking version of their vows. He was going to humiliate her, hurt her, and her body didn’t care. It responded to Marcus and warmed at his touch. Her heart thrummed and lungs strained. She panted as if she’d run a marathon.