Page 159 of The Tycoon's Affair: Tempted By Desire
She pulled free. ‘It wasn’t enough of a wake-up call that you got punched in the face? Are you so blinded that you’ve forgotten what I do? What I am? Wherever we go there’s always going to be a risk that someone will recognise me...’ She crossed her fingers behind her back at the white lie she was about to tell. ‘And especially when I become famous for taking my clothes off completely. I won’t be one of the less risqué acts any more, Arkim. Everyone will know what I look like naked.’
Sylvie could see him pale slightly under the olive tones of his skin. His face was starker, leaner than she’d ever seen it. As if he’d lost weight in the space of a week.
‘If that’s what you really want to do I won’t pretend that I’ll like it, but I’ll support you.’
Sylvie reeled. Her jaw dropped. Eventually she got out, ‘You’re saying you’dacceptme, no matter what?’ She couldn’t believe it for a second. Because if she did... Her heart contracted painfully.
She shook her head. ‘This is not you talking... This is lust...desire. And once it’s gone, Arkim—’ Her voice broke traitorously. ‘I won’t let you send me away again when you realise that I’m not perfect after all...because I’m a constant reminder of some weakness you feel, of your life with your father.’
She’d moved to turn away, her vision blurring, when Arkim’s hand shot out and caught her shoulder. She saw Pierre standing and watching, his gnarled old face incredulous. They had an avid audience. Everyone had gathered to watch the show.
Sylvie let Arkim turn her back towards him, saying in a choked voice, ‘Arkim, you have to—’
‘Stop talking, Sylvie.’
Her mouth closed. He had to know they were being observed. Why wasn’t he leaving? Why wasn’t he preserving what was left intact of his reputation?
Maybe because he means what he says?said a small seductive voice.
But before she could do or say anything more Arkim was reaching for the bottom of his T-shirt, pulling it up over his head and off, revealing his very taut and perfect musculature.
There was a collective intake of appreciative breath and a low whistle, which sounded as if it was quickly stifled by an elbow in the ribs.
Sylvie barely noticed, she was so shocked. ‘What are youdoing?’
His hands were on his jeans now. He looked grim. ‘I’m trying to prove to you that I’ll do whatever it takes to make you trust in me.’
He was starting to undo his top button, and Sylvie realised that he fully intended to strip completely. She put out a shaking hand. ‘Stop.’ And then she shook her head. ‘Why...?’
Arkim dropped his hands, and now he looked bleak. ‘Because I need to show you that I’m willing to bare myself totally for you. And that if you wanted me to stand in front of Notre Dame and do it, I would. I need you to know that I won’t ever judge you again. I’m proud of you, and of everything you’ve achieved with such innate dignity and pride. You shame me. Everything I’ve been aiming for my whole life is empty. Meaningless. Without you.’
Sylvie was struck dumb.
He seared her alive with the intensity in his dark gaze. ‘Don’t you get it yet? I love you... But it took me a really long time to understand it because I’ve never loved anyone, so I didn’t know what it felt like...and I’m sorry.’
To her absolute shock Arkim proceeded to get down on one knee in front of her. He took something out of his pocket. A small velvet box. He opened it up and took something out, held it up between his fingers. She could see that his hand was trembling.
He took her hand in his and said, ‘Sylvie Devereux, I know I’ve given you every reason in the world to hate me...but will you please consent to be my wife? Because I love you, and without you I’m just an arrogant, uptight prat.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Whatever it is you want to do in this life I will support you, and I will take a thousand blows for you if that’s what comes my way. Because you’re mine to protect and cherish and love, and I pledge to do this for as long as I have breath in my body.’
Sylvie felt dizzy, anchored to the earth only by Arkim’s hand wrapped around hers. She wasn’t even looking at the ring, glinting with a green flash of colour in her peripheral vision. She wanted to believe...sobadly. And then she realised that she was just as guilty as he of wanting to protect herself. She had to trust or she’d never move on from her old hurts.
She spoke with a rush. ‘I’m not really taking Pierre’s offer... I just said that to try and make you see how inappropriate I was for you. I’m only performing tonight as a favour, because we’re stuck for an act. My modern dance teacher is putting together a company, here in Paris, and he wants me to be a part of it—as one of their lead dancers. I won’t be taking my clothes off, but I still won’t be perfect.’
He smiled a crooked smile. ‘Youareperfect. If you want to ride naked on a horse through the streets of Paris then I’ll take off all my clothes too and join you.’
Another voluble sigh came from someone nearby. Sylvie ignored it.
Arkim’s hand gripped hers. ‘I just want you to be happy...’
And finally it sank in, and spread through her whole body like a warm glow, lighting up the dark corners that had been filled with pain and uncertainty for a long time.
Sylvie realised that Arkim was looking a little strained... He was still waiting for her answer. Unsure.
‘Yes,’ she said softly, her heart swelling. ‘Yes, I’ll marry you.’ She got down on her knees and faced him, touching his face, tracing his mouth. She looked at him and said shakily, ‘I love you so much... I think I’ve loved you for ever. And I knew it the moment I saw you, even though I couldn’t understand how...’
For a second Arkim looked stunned, as if he truly hadn’t known what she would say. Then she felt him push the ring on her finger, and glanced down to see a huge emerald flanked by smaller blue sapphires and diamonds. Like her eyes.
She reached for him just as he reached for her, their mouths fusing, bodies pressed close enough to hurt.
