Bartered (The Encounter #1)(12)

Watching appreciatively as the server carefully poured me a glass of red wine, Hugo didn’t address me until his steward was out of earshot. “You mentioned a brother. What about your mother? Is she around?”

This was a start to a grueling interrogation about my life. I supposed it was bound to happen given the circumstances.

Pressing my lips together, I gazed into the darkness of his eyes. “My mother is in Athens. She’s originally from Cornwall, but when she met my dad, she moved to Greece to be his wife.”

“Must’ve been quite the culture shock for her.”

The server was back with our first course of cream of watercress soup with a dollop of heavy cream and a quarter size dollop of caviar sitting atop it.

I didn’t respond to him until the server left and we’d both started to eat leisurely—an alien word I wouldn’t have used to describe Hugo, but tonight, it was fitting.

Remembering my mother’s gentle, loving face, I somberly pictured her with a pained heart as I rehashed what had happened to my once vibrant, full of life, beautiful mother.

“She said the culture shock came in the beginning. She used to proudly say that her love for my father made her overcome her fears…” How sad to have fallen in love with a toxic man like my father.

“Does she know of his habit?”

“She does, but my father does as he pleases.” My mother’s opinion never swayed him to think twice before delving into action. My father was a spoilt, only child. The golden son. Oh, but what a joke he had become.

“My mother had a miscarriage, and after that, she hasn’t spoken much. She still has the ability to speak, but only chooses to do so when it’s needed. Most of the time, she wallows in her agony of losing the baby, and my father does what he does best.” Breaking my mother’s heart over and over again. Yet there she was, timidly waiting for the man she’d married to come back to her in order to welcome him with open arms.

“What a great parenting example,” he huffed with a biting tone, upfront in his disapproval. “Have you spoken to your father since?”

“No.” He never made the effort. I didn’t expect him to.

He nodded, deep in thought. “Très bien.”

Quietly placing my spoon down, I glanced towards him, hoping we could clear a misunderstanding that had left me boggled. “About earlier… I’m not sure if I should apologize for what happened or not because I’m quite sure I’m not the cause of your awful mood.” I paused, brows furrowing. “I feel compelled to press this subject with you since we’re still getting used to each other, and I don’t want this issue to cause a rift between us.”

He paused, setting his utensil down as he stared at me before he languidly rested his back against the white leather, wingback chair. “You’re quite sure you weren’t the reason?”

“Yes.” Quite so.

Hugo remained in silent consideration as he kept staring at me, as if trying to figure me out. “And may I ask why, ma belle?”

Well, this question was easy. Might as well tell him the truth. I hoped he’d appreciate my honest opinion. “Because you had no grounds to be acting like Tarzan.”

The end of his top lip lifted. “I acted like Tarzan?”

Did he have any idea who the character was? I’d take my chances.

“Well, I wasn’t sure what was said between you and Julien because you both exchanged in French…” I shrugged before making my point. “You’re a man with three women living with you, ready at your disposal, jealousy couldn’t be the reason.”

“You’re very rational for your age,” he observed, eyes still penetrating me.

“I have to be.” I met his gaze, feeling this tug of war between us. As if there was a magnetic pull telling me to run away, yet I couldn’t fathom looking away and breaking contact. His dark eyes sought, gauging me as it effectively lulled me into its trap. Dark, angelic beauty, or dark, devilish appeal? I hadn’t decided which suited him yet. However, one couldn’t deny it any longer. That this—whatever this was—it affected me greatly.

Furthermore, as exhilarating as it was to get his undivided attention, my mother was a prime example of being charmed by a snake. I’d be damned if I’d walk in her shoes, too.

Once was enough in our family.





Chapter 9


Isobel


“We’re sleeping here tonight,” Hugo announced the moment all plates had been cleared away by the staff and we were both lounging with our drinks in hand, getting my full attention.

“But your hotel is close to here?” And the villa merely a little over half an hour ride away. Sleeping here tonight meant only one thing. Did he purposely wait a full seven days to get what he’d bargained for?

“It is.” He waited a beat or two, making me fully aware of him, before he crushed any hopes I had to go back to dry land. “But tonight, we are sleeping here.”

“As you wish,” I conceded, hoping I hadn’t sounded too tense. Being out here in the night, mooring off the coast, felt like I was at his mercy; as if I had nowhere to hide and couldn’t run away from him. Maybe that had been his intention after all—to wickedly disguise this dinner with an elaborate setting, simply distracting me from the main purpose he had in mind all along. My body.