by Lynne Graham
Nikolai swept Ella theatrically into his arms, melted-caramel eyes brimming with amusement. ‘What have you done with my wife?’ he teased. ‘The last time I saw you, your hair was a mess, you were wearing a lab coat and wellies and now you look like a model.’
‘And it took hours so appreciate it while you can,’ Ella advised him while quietly revelling in the familiar scent of him and the feel of his lean, powerful body even briefly in contact with her own. A familiar burn sparked deep inside her, a burn and an ache that would have to go unsatisfied until much later in the evening because they had a houseful of guests to look after. Gramma and her father were staying for Christmas, as were Dido and Dorkas, Nikolai’s great-aunts, and an array of other Greek family members, whom Nikolai and Ella had grown particularly friendly with during their frequent stays in the house on Crete.
‘I find you sexy in anything. Naked, clothed, it doesn’t matter, latria mou,’ her husband assured her under cover of their son’s chatter, lean fingers spreading caressingly on her hip. ‘I’m shockingly lacking in standards in that line. I’ll take you any way I can have you.’
Ella risked a quick kiss that smudged her lipstick and turned into something a little longer than either of them planned.
‘That’s not cool, Dad,’ Tobias pronounced in disgust.
A highly amused grin slashed Nikolai’s expressive mouth. ‘I can assure you that it was very cool. We can catch up while I get changed,’ he told his wife, grabbing her hand and only pausing on the stairs to greet his father-in-law and Gramma.
‘I should be downstairs being a hostess,’ Ella hissed guiltily.
‘When you put Gramma with my great-aunts, we’re coming down with hostesses who love to host. Anyway, I have something to tell you,’ he announced, thrusting open their bedroom door. ‘About Cyrus.’
‘Cyrus?’ Ella repeated in surprise, because she rarely thought now about the older man, who had received a lengthy prison sentence for his role in the hotel fire and the death of Nikolai’s bar manager. While on bail for those crimes, Cyrus had also been accused of rape by a young woman in his employ and he had been found guilty of that offence as well.
‘He’s apparently in hospital after an attack by fellow inmates. He’s not expected to survive,’ Nikolai informed her flatly. ‘Marika phoned me to tell me.’
‘And how does that make you feel?’ Ella prompted anxiously.
‘As though it really is all over now and I can put it behind me,’ Nikolai confessed. ‘When his sentence was extended because of the rape, I felt that my sister was finally vindicated and I haven’t really thought about Makris since then.’
‘That’s how it should be. It’s over.’ Ella wrapped her arms round him and rested her head against his chest, loving the reassuring beat of his heart and the heat of him on a cold wintry evening. ‘We have more positive matters on our agenda.’
‘Oh... I get it. You thought I only brought you up here to throw you on the bed? How could you think that?’ Nikolai demanded, struggling to look offended.
‘Because I know your sleek, sneaky ways, Mr Drakos,’ Ella told him lovingly. ‘No, I have other news. I’m pregnant again and this time around I’m telling you the same day I found out.’
Nikolai swung her up into his arms and kissed her with passionate satisfaction. They had waited to extend their family until their lives were more settled, but conception had taken several months longer than they had initially hoped. ‘That’s the best Christmas present yet!’ he swore.
‘No, that was our first Christmas when you brought me here to this house and told me it was ours,’ Ella contradicted.
‘And you were enraged that I’d picked a house and the furniture without getting you involved,’ Nikolai reminded her.
‘You did remarkably well on your own,’ Ella said as she freed him of his tie and began to push his jacket off his shoulders. ‘Take your clothes off, Mr Drakos.’
‘I love it when you get domineering,’ Nikolai teased, gazing down at his tiny wife with hotly appreciative dark eyes. ‘I love you, latria mou.’
‘I love you too...’
And they kissed, initially tenderly and then more passionately. The three elderly ladies downstairs were terrific hostesses and ensured that dinner was put back until the owners of the house had reappeared with a noticeable glow of happy contentment surrounding them.
* * * * *
Read on for an extract from THE GREEK’S NINE-MONTH REDEMPTION by Maisey Yates.
CHAPTER ONE
SOMETIMES ELLE ST. JAMES imagined taking a pen and stabbing it straight through Apollo Savas’s chest. Not to kill him of course. He didn’t have a heart so the wound would hardly be fatal. Just to hurt him.
Still, other times she fantasized about crossing the boardroom, wrenching free the knot on his tie and tearing the front of his shirt open, scraping her fingernails down his heated skin and feeling all those hard muscles beneath her hands. Finally. After nine long years of resisting him, resisting the heat that roared through her body every time their eyes met.
That one was way more disturbing than the stabbing thing.
It was also far too frequent.
They were sitting in a crowded meeting and she should be paying attention. But all she could think about was what she would do to him if she had five minutes with him, alone, behind a locked door.
It would either be violent or naked.
He was talking about budgets and cuts. And she hated those words. It would mean scaling down her team again. As had been the story of the past twelve months, ever since he’d bought her out from her father’s holding company. A company that had since sunk into bankruptcy.
Just another moment in a long line of Apollo undermining her. Finally, her father had been forced to give her responsibility. Since his stepson had finally proven to be a viper in the nest, so to speak.
She’d been installed as CEO. Then Apollo had come down like a hammer.
It was his fault. At least in part. And nothing would convince her otherwise.
She had a plan. A plan he seemed intent on thwarting at every turn. She knew she could rescue Matte without all of these sweeping staff changes, but he wouldn’t give her a chance.
Because—just as he’d always done—he was making it his mission to undermine her. To prove he was better even now.
But that didn’t stop her eyes from following his hands as he gestured broadly, from wondering what those hands might feel like on her skin.
She could write what she knew about sex on a napkin. The sad thing was, it would be two words.
Apollo Savas.
He’d been sex to her from the moment she’d understood what the word sex meant. From the moment she’d understood why men and women were different, and why it was such a wonderful thing.
The dark-haired, dark-eyed son of the woman her father had married when Elle was fourteen. He had been fascinating. So different from her. Rough around the edges, a product of his upbringing in a class of society Elle herself had had no contact with. His mother had been a maid prior to her marriage to Elle’s father. The culture shock had been intense. And very, very interesting.
Of course, since then he’d grown into a dark-hearted man who’d betrayed her family and put her under his boot heel.
Still, she wanted him.
The Big Bad Wolf of the business world, huffing and puffing and blowing your dreams down.
“Don’t you agree, Ms. St. James?”
She looked up, her eyes locking with Apollo’s, her heart thudding a dull rhythm. The last thing she needed was to admit she’d missed what he was saying. She would rather admit to having fantasies of killing him than the alternative.
“You’ll have to repeat the question, Mr. Savas. My attention span for repetition isn’t infinite. This is the same song you
’ve been singing for months, and it isn’t any more effective or logical than it was last time.”
He stood, his movements liquid silk. She could see from the black glitter in his eyes that she was going to pay for her words. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Fear mingled with unaccountable lust.
“I am sorry you find me boring. I shall endeavor to make myself more interesting. You see, I was speaking of the fact that for a company to be successful it must be sleek. Well oiled. Each cog functioning at top capacity. Extraneous cogs are unnecessary. Sluggish cogs are unnecessary. I was attempting to be delicate with my metaphor.” He began to walk down the length of the boardroom table, the postures of each person he moved behind straightening as he did. “Perhaps I would have held your attention a bit better if I would have simply said that if I identify a portion of your company functioning at less than optimum capacity I will start slashing and burning your employees like they were dry brush.”
Her entire face felt like it was on fire, her heart pounding harder now. She clenched her shaking hands into fists. “Everyone in this company—”
“I’m sure your speech is about to be inspiring and truly emotional, but since this is not a feel-good underdog sports movie, you should perhaps save your breath, Ms. St. James. You can say what you will, but I have seen the numbers. Conviction doesn’t equal profits. I will be reviewing everything closely and making cuts at my discretion. With that, I think the meeting is adjourned. Ms. St. James has a very low tolerance for my droning, I hear. If it is the same for the rest of you, you should be pleased to be sent on your way.”
The collective surge of bodies making their way out of the room reminded Elle of a herd of wildebeests fleeing a lion.
A big, bored lion who wanted nothing more than to scare them by flashing his teeth. He wasn’t going to give chase. Not now.
No, now his focus had turned to her.
“You are in rare form today, Elle.”
“I am in exactly the appropriate form, Apollo,” she said, reverting to the use of his first name.
They were family, after all.
Not that she’d ever seen him as a brother. A sexual fantasy she didn’t want. Her biggest competitor. Her darkest enemy. He was all of those things, but not a brother.
“I own your company,” he said. “I own you.” Oh, dammit all, why did those words make her...ache? “You never seem to show me the proper amount of fear.”
“Real leaders don’t rule with an iron fist,” she hissed. “They understand that intimidation isn’t the way to gain respect.”
She shouldn’t be talking back to him, but she could never control her tongue around him. They’d known each other for too long. Had spent too many years in the same household.
And she had spent too many years tearing strips off him when she’d felt like she had the upper hand. When she was the blood daughter of her father, the one who held a rightful place in their upstate mansion.
Things changed. Oh, how things changed.
“Says the woman who is no longer in a true position of leadership.” He smiled. Showing his teeth.
She wouldn’t scatter. She would not. She was not a wildebeest.
“Oh, but I am. As long as Matte is an independently operating entity beneath your large corporate umbrella, I am here to run it as best as I can. I am here to stand in the gap for my employees and give you the information black-and-white printouts can’t.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Everything is electronic now. I’m not wasting resources on printouts.”
He turned and started to walk out of the office. “You know what I mean. A flat, two-dimensional report reducing everything to statistics and cold numbers is hardly the be-all and end-all.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, taking long strides down the hall.
Elle had to take two steps to his one, her high heels clicking loudly on the marble floor as she hurried after him. “I am not wrong. It doesn’t offer the whole picture. You can’t possibly know how the company is really functioning. How each worker impacts the creative process. Matte isn’t just a magazine. It’s a line of cosmetics, a fashion brand. We have books and—”
“Yes,” he said, stepping into an elevator, “thank you, I am very familiar with how my assets function.”
“Then you should be aware of the fact that I have strategies in place that require all of the manpower I possess. Initiatives that take time to launch but will catapult this brand into worldwide recognition.”
“Yes. So you said last time we met. And, unlike you, I don’t drift off in meetings.”
She growled and charged into the elevator after him. “I did not drift off.”
He pushed the button to the lobby and the doors slid closed. Then he turned that dark, unsettling focus onto her. The air around them seemed to shrink, rendering the already crowded space impossibly tight. “No. I don’t believe you did, Elle,” he said, his voice as silken as his movements. “You were looking at me with a great deal of intensity. Too much to be on another planet entirely. What was it you were thinking about exactly?”
“Driving a pen through your chest,” she said, smiling.
Because she would be damned if she’d say, Tearing your clothes off and seeing if you’re as good in reality as you are in my dreams.
Even though she felt like that reality was written all over her face, across her skin in the red stain of a blush.
He offered her a wry smile. “You know I can’t be killed like that. You have to cut my head off and bury it in a separate location to my body.”
“I’ll let the hit men know.” She turned and smiled at him again, and he offered one in return.
The doors slid open, revealing the rather vacant bottom floor. Matte shared its offices with many other businesses, and with penthouses on the top floor. At this hour of the day not many people were coming and going.
“Where is it you’re staying, Apollo?” she asked. “A crypt somewhere in Midtown?”
“The one just next to yours, Elle,” he said, his tone light. “After you.”
He extended his hand, waiting for her to step out of the elevator. She swept past him, moving through the lobby and going through the revolving doors. She stepped on to the busy Manhattan sidewalk, put her sunglasses on and stood there, tapping her foot.
Apollo emerged a moment later, straightening his suit jacket and standing across from her for a moment.
“Care to continue shouting at me while I walk?” he asked.
“I’m not shouting at you. I’m calmly explaining to you why you’re wrong in your methods of handling my company.”
He turned away from her, walking down the crowded street, his broad back filling her vision.
“Apollo!” Okay, she was shouting now. “We are not through with our meeting.”
“I think we adjourned it.”
“The general meeting,” she said, upping her pace. “But we are not done.”
“I’m just here,” he said, gesturing to an old boutique hotel only two buildings down from the Matte offices. “Since I’m in town primarily to deal with Matte I thought I should stay close.”
“Congratulations. How sensible.”
“I have my moments. Judging by the fact that I’m a billionaire who successfully staged a takeover of your father’s company, I’ve had several moments, actually.”
“If you were as clever as you think you are you would listen to my plans for Matte. The answer isn’t to reduce us down to nothing. You have to let me try and expand it, otherwise we really will die.”
“You’re assuming I’m trying to save you, dear Elle. Perhaps I just want to pull the plug.”
“You... You...” She was sputtering now. She never sputtered. She blamed him.
“Villain. Scoundrel. I answer to any of th
ose really.”
“You have always been a competitive son of a bitch, but this is above and beyond.”
“You’re assuming this is a competition.”
“What else could it be? You’re ungrateful. For everything my father gave you. And for the fact that he didn’t give you everything.”
He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Oh, you mean that he didn’t give me his corporation, or Matte, in the first place? Why do you think he installed you, Elle? Your competence? No. He gave you the position to keep a foothold once I bought him out.”
The words landed hard, hollowing out her midsection. Leaving nothing but a crater behind.
Like you didn’t suspect that already.
She had. Of course she had. But the fact he knew it meant it was obvious. Possibly to everyone.
The doorman opened the golden door for them and Apollo paused to tip him before continuing on. Elle opened her purse and produced her own dollar, handing it to the man before going in after Apollo.
She was not allowing him to do her tipping for her.
“I am in the penthouse suite. It’s very nice.”
“Why am I not surprised that I just got out of a meeting where you were discussing tightening belts for my company, and yet you’re staying in the penthouse suite.”
He pushed the button for the elevator and the doors slid open. She followed in after, starting to feel slightly out of breath.
“I am not in need of money, agape, if that’s why you thought I was mentioning cuts.”
Agape. She hated that. He’d started using that on her sometime when she was in high school. Just to make her angry. And some small part of her grabbed hold of it every time, holding it near. Love.