Doukakis's Apprentice

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘That’s why I brought my security team. They can earn their keep.’

  ‘If they’re going to take pictures, I’m taking my coat off.’

  Damon gave a faint smile. ‘Is this going to give me a heart attack?’

  ‘I hope not because I’m not walking through those photographers on my own.’ Polly wriggled out of her coat and saw his eyes drop to her cleavage. ‘Don’t look at me like that. You told me I was allowed to dress up.’

  ‘You look incredible.’ His voice husky, he studied her short gold dress and then lifted his gaze to hers. ‘You’re not wearing Gérard’s products tonight?’

  ‘You mentioned dancing so I went for bare legs. Are you going to stare at me or are we going inside?’

  It was a heady experience being out in London with Damon. The moment he stepped out of the car the flashbulbs exploded and he held her hand firmly as he walked purposefully towards the entrance of the club. The press pack, kept at bay by his security team, snapped pictures and shouted questions that Damon skilfully deflected.

  ‘I don’t see why they’re so interested in who you’re out with. There are major things going on in the world and all they’re interested in is who’s in your bed. Crazy.’ Keeping her head high, Polly walked with him into the club, waving her arms and walking with a sway in her hips as she heard the seductive pulse of the music. ‘I feel like dancing.’

  ‘Good.’ Damon gestured to a member of the bar staff and a moment later a bottle of champagne and two glasses appeared. ‘We’ll have a drink first.’

  ‘Are you one of those men who need alcohol before they hit the dance floor?’

  It turned out that he wasn’t.

  Watching Damon dance was a sensual feast. Every movement made her think of sex, every glance he sent in her direction was a promise of what was to come.

  Enjoying herself hugely, Polly let herself go, her body flowing in time to the rhythm, her hair flying around her face as she danced on the shimmering glass floor.

  The music and the atmosphere were so infectious that she was still smiling when Damon swept her off the dance floor and back to their private table.

  Every few minutes people came up to shake his hand and exchange a few words and Polly wondered why he attracted so much attention wherever he went.

  ‘There are some really famous people here and they’re all coming over to talk to you.’ She tapped her champagne glass against his. ‘Doukakis for Prime Minister, I say.’

  ‘How much have you drunk?’

  ‘Nowhere near enough. This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. In fact the whole experience is super-cool. This place is stunning—’ Out of breath, she swallowed a few mouthfuls of champagne and then noticed a couple of minor royals weaving their way towards them. ‘I can’t curtsey. My dress is too tight—or maybe my bottom is too big. One of the two.’ She paused politely while they spoke to Damon and when they finally moved away she sidled closer to him. ‘Why is everyone so determined to talk to you?’

  ‘Because I own the place and they’re sucking up.’ Calm, Damon topped up her glass. ‘Do you want to dance again?’

  ‘You own a nightclub?’

  ‘I told you—I believe in diversification. If one part of your business is struggling, another part will be strong. Rules of commerce.’

  ‘But—’ Polly looked around her and suddenly realise why everyone had been so deferential when he’d walked in. ‘So you’re the boss here, too. Everywhere you go, you’re the boss. Have you ever not been in charge?’

  ‘I spent a crazy night in bed with a woman in Paris recently …’ the words were spoken in her ear and his arm was draped across the back of her seat ‘… and there were definitely a few seconds when I wasn’t in charge.’

  Her rapid breathing had nothing to do with her exertion on the dance floor and everything to do with the way he made her feel.

  ‘I thought we agreed to forget about that.’

  ‘I changed my mind.’

  Her eyes were on his, and then on his mouth. The desire to kiss him was so powerful she almost didn’t care that they were in a public place. ‘Everyone is looking at us.’

  ‘Then it’s probably time to leave.’ He rose to his feet and held out his hand to her.

  Polly endured the drive home in an agony of sensual anticipation and the moment they closed the door of the penthouse he hauled her against him and divested her of her dress in one slick move that had her gasping.

  Equally impatient, she ripped at his shirt, sending buttons flying.

  ‘I want you—’ His voice unsteady, Damon pressed her back against the wall and lifted her easily, encouraging her to wrap her thighs around his hips.

  She was so ready, so desperate after an evening of watching him on the dance floor, that when she felt him against her she gave a low moan of encouragement and arched her hips to towards him. His fingers gripping her thighs, he entered her with a slow, controlled strength that made her gasp his name. The gasp turned to a sob as she felt him deep inside her and for a moment she stilled, her hand on the sleek skin of his back, her eyes tightly closed as she absorbed the enormity of the pleasure.

  ‘You feel fantastic.’ He groaned the words against her mouth and then withdrew and surged into her again, building a rhythm so skilled, so perfect, that her senses caught fire.

  Her hands were in his hair, then on his shoulders, and they kissed like savages, biting, licking, feasting as she met each hard thrust with the same frantic desperation. It was primal and out of control, sex at its most basic, a slaking of a physical need that was stronger than both of them.

  She came in an exquisite rush of pleasure, her body tightening around his and sending him spinning into the same place.

  For what seemed like ages, neither of them moved.

  Then he lowered her gently, his forehead against hers. ‘Sorry—’ his voice was husky ‘—the bedroom was too far.’

  Polly was dizzy with the intensity of it. His lack of control made her feel like a sex goddess. ‘No need to apologise—’

  ‘Better get there quickly before it happens again—’ He scooped her up again and strode through to the bedroom while Polly reflected briefly on the startling fact that she actually liked it when someone else took control.

  Her last coherent thought before he brought his mouth down on hers was that she never wanted it to end.

  As dawn broke, Polly sat up carefully, trying not to wake him, but a strong hand shot out and pulled her back down again.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  ‘Back home.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’ His hand slid into her hair and he kissed her with a slow thoroughness that melted her limbs. ‘You’re sleeping here. With me.’

  She really ought to leave, she thought groggily, but he pulled her into the circle of his arms, trapping her against him.

  It felt good, she thought, and the intensity of that feeling terrified her. She’d always avoided this situation, hadn’t she? She’d always protected herself from that depth of emotion because she’d seen how fragile relationships were. She’d grown up watching her father’s relationships crumble to dust.

  But with Damon—

  Bombarded with alien feelings that were as terrifying as they were exciting, she stilled in his arms and he turned his head, those dark eyes sharp and astute as he sensed the change in her.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me. I always know when you’re keeping something from me. Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.’ His voice husky and sexy and he slid his hand behind her head and drew her head towards him.

  Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.

  Polly felt a warmth flow through her. It wasn’t just that he made her feel like the sexiest woman alive, he was fiercely protective and that was a whole new experience for her.

  Was it wrong to enjoy the fact that someone was looking out for her?

  His gaz
e probing, Damon lowered his head to hers, but before he could kiss her his phone buzzed.

  Swearing softly, he sighed and rolled onto his back. ‘Sorry. Bad timing, but I’d better take this. I’m expecting a call from Athens.’ Visibly annoyed at having been disturbed, he reached out and answered it. ‘Doukakis …’

  Polly lay with her eyes closed, her hand resting on the hard muscle of his chest, struggling to come to terms with the way he made her feel. A night without sleep made his deep voice even huskier and she smiled to herself, thinking that when he spoke in Greek he was even sexier.

  Then his voice changed from husky to harsh and he disengaged himself from her grip and launched himself from the bed.

  Polly yawned. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Stay there, and whatever happens don’t come out.’

  Still lost in her own thoughts, Polly looked at him in a daze, distracted by the sight of his bare back. The swell of smooth male muscle flexed and rippled as he dressed swiftly. He reminded her of a warrior at the peak of fitness, trained and ready to go into battle. Suddenly she wanted to put her arms round him and drag him back to bed. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen and sex with him was the most breathtakingly exciting experience of her life. ‘Come back to bed. Work can wait.’

  He didn’t look at her. ‘I need to see someone. Stay there.’ Hesitating, he turned back to her, planted his arms on the bed and leaned forward to kiss her. ‘I’ll be back.’

  ‘Mmm …’ Still sleepy, Polly smiled against his mouth. ‘I’m not sure how to take that. Isn’t that a line from Terminator?’

  He didn’t laugh. Instead, he disengaged himself and gently stroked her cheek with his fingers. ‘Don’t move. And that’s an order.’

  Wondering why he was suddenly so serious, she lay still for a moment, floating on a sea of blissful contentment.

  And then she heard raised voices coming from the living room.

  Raised voices?

  Why would there be raised voices?

  Concerned, she slid out of bed and wriggled back into the gold dress that lay abandoned on the floor where Damon had thrown it the night before.

  The anger in his voice intensified and her curiosity turned to alarm as she hurried through to the living area of the spectacular apartment.

  Damon’s back was towards her, his feet planted firmly apart in a stance that was blatantly confrontational. Distracted by the display of male power and authority, Polly didn’t immediately see who was on the receiving end of his wrath, but as she moved forward, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor, the other person finally came into view.

  For a moment she was so shocked she couldn’t make a sound.

  Neither man was aware of her presence, both trapped in their boiling cauldron of mutual animosity.

  Feeling the warm threads of her newfound happiness unravel, Polly finally managed to croak out a few words.

  ‘Dad?’ Her voice cracked. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I COULD ask you the same question. So the rumours are true.’ Her father faced Damon, his expression twisted and ugly. ‘Do you have no boundaries? No conscience? It should have been enough for you to take over my company, but no—you had to seal your revenge by seducing my daughter.’ His breathing was alarmingly rapid, his hands locked in two white-knuckled fists by his sides.

  Revenge?

  Polly wanted to move towards her father but her body felt as if it had been encased in cement. She couldn’t move. Not once, even for a moment, had it occurred to her that Damon might have seduced her because of her father’s relationship with Arianna.

  And in that single agonising moment she was finally able to put a name to those alien feelings.

  Love.

  She’d fallen in love with Damon. Her brain told her it wasn’t possible in such a short time but her heart wasn’t listening. And maybe it wasn’t such a short time, really. He’d always been there, hadn’t he? On the fringes of her life. Her friend’s big brother.

  Terror scraped her skin, sharp as the talons of an eagle, and she stood without speaking, aware of Damon’s dangerous mood as he confronted her father.

  ‘You dare to come into my home and pretend you care about your daughter? This after several weeks when you haven’t bothered to get in touch with anyone?’ A look of contempt on his face, Damon took a step towards the older man. ‘You are a disgrace. And a coward. You hid rather than face me, but you’re here now so stand up and behave like a man. Take responsibilities for your decisions instead of shifting focus onto someone else.’

  Still locked in frozen silence, Polly saw her father’s face redden.

  ‘Now, you listen to me—’ Clearly intimidated by Damon’s cold, controlled fury, he momentarily lost some of his bluster. ‘I’m no coward. I’m not afraid of you.’

  ‘Well, you should be.’ Damon’s voice was silky-smooth, his soft tone a thousand times more dangerous than the older man’s empty bluster. ‘You abandoned your business without thought or care for the future job security of your employees and you did the same with your daughter.’

  ‘I did not abandon her. Polly’s not a kid. She’s capable of looking after herself.’

  ‘This wasn’t a question of cooking herself a meal and getting on with life. You left her to the mercy of those greedy animals you laughingly call a board, all of whom could have been dismissed for misuse of company funds, not to mention sexual harassment, but even worse than that—’ the control finally snapped and Damon’s voice thickened with anger ‘—you left her to deal with me. By herself. No support from anyone.’ Each word thumped into her father like a rock and Polly saw him shrivel.

  Torn between her love for two men, she stepped forward, forcing the words through stiff lips. ‘Damon, that’s enough.’

  Damon ignored her. ‘Was that your plan? Instead of standing up to me like a man, you left your daughter alone and unprotected in the hope that the lion wouldn’t attack? Or have you just completely abdicated your responsibilities as a father?’

  ‘Polly’s good at her job. And she’s good with people.’ But her father’s bluster was fading and he glanced warily at Polly. ‘You handled him, didn’t you?’

  Damon exploded, first in Greek and then in English. ‘She is twenty-four years old and doesn’t have a ruthless bone in her body and yet you abandoned her to be eaten alive by someone of my reputation.’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d hurt her.’

  Damon’s laugh was layered with contempt and disgust. ‘You were relying on that. You ran. And you let your defenceless daughter deal with the fall-out. You disgust me. Now, get the hell out of my home.’

  ‘Now, wait a minute—’ Her father stumbled over his words. ‘Pol isn’t defenceless. She’s a tough thing.’

  ‘She’s had to be! When have you ever stood up for her or helped her? When, in the whole of her life, have you ever been there for her?!’

  ‘I gave her a home when her mother walked out.’

  Damon lifted a hand, clenched it into a fist and then lowered it again. ‘Don’t say another word,’ he warned in a thickened tone. ‘Not a word if you want to walk out of here in the same condition you walked in.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Finally dragged from her own trauma, Polly stepped between the two men. ‘Stop it, both of you! That’s enough.’ She felt sick inside. So sick that she wanted to crawl into a corner and hide there. Although she knew that everything Damon said was the truth, it didn’t stop her loving her father. Life wasn’t that simple, was it? ‘Dad, where’s Arianna?’

  ‘She’s back at the house. It’s her home now. We’re married. We did in secret because we both knew he—’ he stabbed an accusing finger towards Damon ‘—would go off the deep end.’

  ‘Married?’ Polly couldn’t hide her dismay and a flash of real fear chilled her all the way through as she anticipated how Damon would react to that less than welcome news. ‘Oh, Dad.’

  Her father bristled. ‘I
f I care for a woman, I don’t want to just make some sort of sex trophy of her—like him.’ He glared at Damon. ‘He has plenty of women. He just doesn’t marry any of them. What does that say about him?’

  ‘It says that I can tell the difference between lust and love.’ Damon spoke through his teeth, his effort to maintain control visible in the pumped muscle of his bare chest and shoulders. ‘It says that my decision-making is ruled by my brain and not my testosterone levels.’

  Sensing the extreme volatility of his mood, Polly was terrified he was going to lose it. ‘I think you’d better leave, Dad,’ she said hastily, urging him towards the door.

  ‘Not without you.’ Her father dug his heels in and Damon breathed deeply.

  ‘She’s staying here. With me. She’s mine now.’ It was a statement of pure male possession and Polly stilled, hot tears scalding the back of her eyes, knowing that those words were spoken to aggravate her father.

  What other explanation was there? Damon had already told her he didn’t want a relationship—didn’t want commitment or more responsibility. And she knew, as no doubt he did, that nothing would upset her father more than watching her choose Damon over him.

  Damon saw their relationship as another weapon to use in the defence of his sister.

  ‘Wait there,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll get dressed.’

  Damon turned slowly, an expression of raw incredulity stamped on his spectacularly handsome face as he looked at her. ‘You’re going with him?’

  Polly couldn’t breathe. Her mind was a mess and the pain in her chest felt as though someone had ripped her apart with burning knives. ‘I don’t have a choice. He’s my dad.’

  ‘Of course you have a choice.’ Damon’s face was unusually pale. ‘Theé mou, tell me that you don’t believe any of that garbage he just spouted.’

  She hadn’t even questioned it.

  His animosity towards her father was a living force in the room and the effort not to cry was a physical burning in the back of her throat.