Too Late for Your Regret

The Master of the House

The villa in Cap Ferrat didn't just overlook the Mediterranean; it seemed to command it. As the SUV wound up the private, olive-tree-lined drive, the white limestone walls of the estate glowed like pearl under the moonlight. This wasn't the cold, glass-and-steel penthouse Julian had kept me in. This was a fortress of history, elegance, and raw, unapologetic wealth.

Cyrus didn't wait for the security detail to open my door. He was already there, his hand reaching out to steady me as I stepped onto the gravel. The moment my fingers touched his, the weight of the diamond ring on my hand felt like a live wire, sparking a heat that traveled straight to my core.

"Welcome home, Maya," he murmured.

I looked up at him, my breath hitching. "Home? This feels like a dream I'm going to wake up from in a cold sweat.""Then let me be the one to keep you awake," he replied, his voice dropping to that dangerous, velvet register.

He didn't lead me through the front door like a guest. He placed his hand firmly on the small of my back-a possessive, grounding weight-and guided me into a grand foyer filled with the scent of fresh jasmine and expensive wax. A small army of staff stood in a perfect line, their heads bowed in a way I had never seen for Julian.

"Mr. Thorne. Madam," an older man in a crisp suit said, bowing deeply. "The Master Suite has been prepared as you requested."

Madam. The word tasted like honey and fire.

Cyrus gave a curt nod, dismissive of the formality but never letting go of me. He led me up a sweeping marble staircase, the silence of the house amplified by the rhythmic thud of my own heart. We reached a set of heavy, hand-carved oak doors. When he pushed them open, I stopped dead.

The room was vast, opening onto a terrace that blurred the line between the bedroom and the sea. But it wasn't the view that caught my breath. It was the fact that there was only one bed-a massive, canopy-draped expanse of silk and down.

I turned to him, my voice trembling. "Cyrus... you said we were being open about this. But I thought... I thought I'd have my own room while I was 'training.'"

Cyrus shut the doors behind us, the heavy click of the lock echoing like a gunshot. He stepped toward me, his presence filling the room until the air felt too thin to breathe. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of my lower lip, his gaze dropping to the pulse fluttering wildly in my throat."I told you at the airport, Maya. I don't hide what is mine. In the eyes of the world, and in this house, you are my wife. There are no separate rooms. There are no secrets." He leaned down, his forehead resting against mine, his scent-sandalwood and something purely masculine-wrapping around me. "Julian treated you like a shameful secret. I intend to treat you like my greatest obsession. If that scares you, tell me now."

"It doesn't scare me," I whispered, and I realized it was the truth. The fear was gone, replaced by a desperate, aching need to be seen by this man. "It just... it's a lot to take in. Why me? Why go this far?"

Cyrus's hands moved to my waist, pulling me flush against the hard planes of his body. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the steady, powerful beat of his heart against my chest."Because for three years, I had to watch him waste you," he growled, his eyes darkening with a raw, primal hunger. "I watched you look at him with those big, soulful eyes, giving him your loyalty while he looked at his watch. I wanted to tear him apart every time he left you alone at a gala to go talk business with men who weren't half as smart as you. I promised myself then that if I ever got my hands on you, I would never let you stand three paces behind me again."

He tilted my head back, his grip on my waist tightening. "You aren't just a project, Maya. You're the woman I've wanted since the first moment I saw you walk into a room. The revenge? The takeover? That's just the icing. The marriage... the marriage is the prize."

My heart did a somersault. He wasn't just being "open." He was being predatory. He was claiming me with a ferocity that Julian never could have imagined.

"Then show me," I challenged, my own voice growing braver. I reached up, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. "Show me what it's like to belong to a man who actually knows what he has."

Cyrus didn't hesitate. He claimed my mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the polite, cold kisses I had shared with Julian. This was a conquest. It was deep, hungry, and tasted of years of suppressed desire. It sent a shockwave through my body that made my knees buckle and my stomach tinger, but he held me up, his arms like bands of steel.

When he finally pulled back, both of us breathless, he whispered against my lips, "The training starts tomorrow. The law, the finance, the power... I'll teach you all of it. But tonight, Maya Thorne... tonight is about us."He picked me up effortlessly, carrying me toward the bed as the sound of the Mediterranean waves crashed against the cliffs below. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like a scholarship girl or a hidden wife. I felt like a queen being ushered into her kingdom.