Bought ForThe Greek's Bed

by Julia James

  Amicably…

  Vicky felt her stomach hollow.

  No, amicable their parting had not been.

  Fierceness filled her again.

  It’s Theo’s fault—it’s all Theo’s fault! I never asked for any of this—none of it! And I didn’t deserve it! I absolutely did not deserve it. Even if I had—

  The phone in the car went.

  For a moment she let it ring, feeling her stomach hollow out. Then she picked it up.

  ‘Hello?’

  It was Demetrious again.

  ‘ Theakis? Theakis has suggested you lunch with him in his apartment here. Would that be convenient for you?’

  Mentally, Vicky punched the air.

  ‘What a lovely idea,’ she trilled. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can. We’re at—’

  She cast her eyes around and told Demetrious what street they were on.

  It took a little while still to reach the headquarters of Theakis Corp. As the car drew up, Vicky felt the lick of memory. She hadn’t been here very often during her marriage, and she only recalled being in Theo’s private apartment at the top of the building a couple of times. But it was still strange—unnerving, even—to walk into the building.

  Just being in Athens again was strange. Unnerving.

  She pressed her lips together. Their marriage of convenience had been working out fine—why, why had Theo had to go and ruin everything? Why?

  His ego. That was all. His overweening sexual ego that had decided that he might as well have her panting for him, as well…

  Memory drenched through her. Not of the time of her brief, wretched marriage, but of last night. And the night before, and the night before that.

  She could feel her body react in hot, humid recollection of what it had done a few hours ago, in the darkened tumult of her inflamed desire…

  Her nipples were hardening, the pulse at the vee of her legs quickening.

  No! God, no! Stop it—just stop it!

  With monumental effort she slammed down on her reaction. That wasn’t what she must feel! That was fatal—fatal. Even with her cold, light-of-day reasoning about exactly why she had gone along with Theo’s outrageous demand that she come to his bed, it was fatal to let her mind go back to what she had done.

  Never again. That was what she had to remember. Never again would Theo touch her. Never again would his body move over hers. Never again.

  I’m safe now—safe from him. That’s all I have to remember. There is nothing more he can do to me. Because I have everything I want from him. Everything.

  Except one thing.

  She took a breath—a deep one,

  What she wanted now from Theo was not something she had to fear. Only be grimly, blackly satisfied by.

  I want my own back. I want my own back for what he did to me. And I know exactly how I’m going to get that.

  She lifted her chin, picked up her new handbag, and got out of the car.

  If it was disturbing to be back in Athens again it was even more disturbing walking into Theo’s HQ. This time around, unlike in London, she was shown up to his office straight away, and as she entered Theo’s executive suite Demetrious came forward to greet her. If he wondered what she was doing there, why she was suddenly dressed not in chainstore clothes but indeed as ‘the former Theo Theakis’, nothing showed in his professionally blank face as he ushered her into Theo’s inner sanctum.

  Only then, just as she walked in and heard the double doors click shut behind her, did a sense of déjà-vu suddenly hit her. This was exactly what she’d done the day that her uncle had announced his bolt-from-the-blue idea—that a man she scarcely knew, but who’d had such a disturbing effect on her right from the very first time she’d laid eyes on him, had asked for her hand in marriage.

  She had marched in here, demanding an explanation for so ludicrous a proposition.

  Her eyes went to the man now unfolding his tall, lean frame, the same way he had that fatal day.

  How on earth had he persuaded her to marry him?

  Why the hell did I agree? There must have been another way

  for Aristides to accept Theo’s investment! It was just ludicrous—ludicrous to go along with what I did!

  But she had, and that was all there was to it.

  You made your bed…

  The echo of the familiar proverb stung in her head, and with an awful hollowing of her stomach she heard not the metaphorical meaning but the literal one.

  Bed. Sex. Theo.

  That had been what had gone so hideously wrong in their brief, disastrous marriage. And it had been entirely and totally Theo’s fault.

  If he’d just bloody left me alone…

  But he hadn’t. And so, without the shadow of doubt, without the slightest sliver of any other possibility, this whole ugly, vile business was his fault.

  The emotion she had felt building up in her since he had dropped the cheque for her money beside her naked body slashed through her again. Powerful, unstoppable—and now roiling in her like a black tide.

  Her chin went up. Theo was on his feet.

  His face was tight and taut. His eyes dark with cold, icy anger.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’

  His voice cut at her like a knife.

  For a moment, just a moment, Vicky felt a new emotion go through her. She buckled under it, reeling from the vicious hostility in his voice. Memory came at her again, with sickening vividness. This was how Theo had spoken to her on that hideous, hideous day when she had arrived back at his mansion from Jem’s and he’d tossed the paparazzo’s revealing, condemning photos of her and Jem down on the table in front of her shocked, appalled face.

  She felt her throat spasm. Why does he have to be so angry with me? Why?

  Her throat tightened. There was almost pain in it.

  But what was the point of pain? Pain just made her weak, defenceless. She had stood there while Theo carved her into shreds that awful day. Her stammering attempts to justify her actions had been scathingly demolished even before she could get them out. Theo had not listened—had only attacked. Savagely, ruthlessly, totally.

  Then thrown her out.

  Thrown her out and taken his petty revenge by refusing to hand her over the money she had been promised.

  And then—her stomach hollowed—then he had taken a revenge that had not been petty at all…

  She felt her spine stiffen. When Theo had thrown his outrageous demand at her in London, her only thought had been how she could protect herself from his vengeance.

  But he had not let her do so. He had imposed on her exactly what he had planned all along—her humiliation, at his skilled and expert hands. Allowing her no quarter—no hiding place.

  Her eyes hardened.

  Well, now it’s my turn. My turn for a little revenge. And I will really, really enjoy sticking the knife in you this time around…to give you back what you paid out to me, night after night…

  This is just a fraction of what you did to me!

  She walked forward. Strolled forward. Her high-heeled sandals moved her hips, the fine material of her dress eased over her body. Her freshly washed and styled hair lifted from her shoulders. Her outfit might have taken an uncomfortably large bite out of her credit card, but she didn’t care right now, she just didn’t care—she felt and looked exactly the way she wanted.

  Elegant. Classy.

  A knock-out.

  And as she saw the pinpricks of his pupils flare suddenly at her approach she felt confidence flood back into her.

  Something else came with the confidence. But that wasn’t important. Not now.

  She raised an eyebrow quizzically.

  ‘What am I playing at? Why, Theo, I’m here at your invitation. You’ve invited me for lunch, remember? Upstairs in your penthouse.’

  His eyes were masked. Out of nowhere, all the emotion in his face vanished. It was like a smooth, unreadable surface. She knew that face, was very familiar with it. It
was a face to be extremely wary of. Well, she was wary, all right. But that wasn’t going to stop her. Wasn’t going to intimidate her. Not this time. She was, after all, in possession of information that Theo would find it bitter to swallow. But he was going to swallow it all the same. And there was nothing he was going to be able to do about it.

  So she just went on standing there, her expression as bland and as smooth as his.

  He walked around the edge of his desk. Her eyes stayed fixed on him. For a tall man he was very graceful as he walked. The grace of a tiger approaching its prey.

  Instinctively she tensed, then forced herself to let her muscles relax. She wasn’t Theo’s prey. Not any more.

  Never, ever again.

  She stood her ground. She would do this. She would do this and win. For once, in their final encounter, she would win.

  ‘Well, in which case, let’s head upstairs. I’m sure Demetrious has sorted out lunch for us. Shall we?’

  He ushered her from the office, past his PA, and across the lobby to his private lift. As the doors sliced shut on them Vicky felt a burst of claustrophobia. She was not fearful of lifts—but the enclosed space made Theo seem closer to her than she ever wanted him to be again.

  When the doors opened directly into his penthouse apartment she stepped out hurriedly. Too hurriedly? Was she betraying her reluctance at being so close to Theo? Well, tough—and too late. She walked forward with the same deliberate, confident air with which she had walked into his office one floor below, and made a beeline for the windows on the far side of the room. She could see the outline of the Parthenon on its rocky hill, the Acropolis, guardian of Athens for time immemorial. She ought to take another visit before she left for London. It was a good time of year to be in Athens—so much cooler than it had been that long, hot summer of her marriage. She could stay a few days in a hotel and see the sights again. No one would know who she was, and she would not come here again, she knew.

  Sadness plucked at her. Then a harder emotion. That was yet another crime to be laid at Theo’s door. Not just what he had done to her, and to her relationship with her last paternal blood relative, but the fact that he had parted her from her own Greek heritage.

  She turned back, so that she could no longer see the outline of the city she loved.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’

  Theo was crossing to the drinks cabinet against the wall. Through the double doors that gave on to the dining room Vicky could see a team of staff, busily setting the table, despatched to do so from the executive kitchen on the floor below. It was not the first time she had lunched here. There had been several times when he had had business acquaintances for lunch who had brought their wives, necessitating her presence, as well, to make polite small talk while the men talked business.

  Did he bring his women here? The thought stung in her mind before she could stop it. It would be convenient, after all, and the lift descended straight to the car park, so ‘guests’ could arrive and leave without having to go through the office levels.

  Her eyes flickered around. The décor couldn’t have been more different from that ‘love-nest’ on the coast! It was stark and masculine, functional and minimalist. Any women he brought here would have to accept that this was the space of someone who was not prepared to make concessions to their feminine sensibilities.

  Well, right now, ‘feminine sensibilities’ were something she was going to be decidedly short on. This was hardball time. Plain and simple. She wanted to hit at Theo. Hit him in the only spot that was vulnerable.

  His ego.

  Not that he looked in the slightest bit vulnerable right now. As ever, that aura of power sat on him as seamlessly as his superb hand-tailored suit. As her eyes rested on him, a sense of protest stabbed at Vicky. It wasn’t fair—it just wasn’t fair! He looked so damn compelling that even now, steeled as she was, she could feel the familiar deadly weakness start up inside her just by looking at him.

  Let alone remembering…

  ‘Mineral water, thank you,’ she said crisply, cutting like a necessary blade through her own treacherous thoughts.

  ‘Still or sparkling?’

  The smooth dark tones mocked her, she knew. But she would mirror his cool if it killed her.

  ‘Still will be fine.’

  Anything would be fine—anything without alcohol. She needed control—perfect control.

  He poured out her drink, adding ice, and handed it to her without expression. Yet there was something moving behind his mask, she knew. Well, she didn’t care. He could think what he liked. It was nothing to do with her—not any more.

  She lifted her glass.

  ‘Yassoo,’ she intoned.

  He did not respond, merely lifting his own highball to his mouth and taking a slow, considering sip. His eyes did not leave hers.

  Something ran between them. Unspoken. Like a line of wildfire in tinder dry grass.

  The world stopped around her. Just stopped.

  She heard a silent cry in her head. Fear. Absolute fear.

  More than fear…

  Worse than fear…

  ‘Lunch is served.’ The sonorous tones from the doorway to the dining room made the world start again. As her fingers closed more tightly around the chilled column of her glass, she walked into the room beyond. Going through the required rituals of taking her place at the table gave her the chance to regain control of herself.

  ‘I only ever have a light lunch,’ Theo said, indicating the array of salads on the table. ‘But of course if you would like something more substantial, you have only to say.’

  She gave a curt nod of her head. One of the staff was setting out a coffee tray, with a jug of coffee keeping warm on a hotplate. A quick word in Greek to their employer, asking if anything else was required, a brief negative from Theo, and they took their leave. She was left alone with Theo.

  She started to reach for the salad bowls, making a selection. She was not hungry. Her stomach was a tight knot. She watched covertly as Theo did likewise, his movements as smooth and economical as always. It came to her that this would be the last time she would set eyes on him…

  The world seemed to still again, and then stop completely.

  She forced it to keep going again.

  Focus—that’s all. Just focus.

  Theo lifted his fork to his mouth. ‘What’s this farce all about, Vicky?’ he asked.

  His voice was off-hand, indifferent. She felt her back go up. Deliberately she delayed in answering him, making a play of taking a mouthful of salad and eating it.

  ‘Well?’ There was more curtness in his voice as he prompted her. He did not like to be kept waiting for answers when he wanted them.

  Even more deliberately she took a drink from her water glass, forked up some more food.

  ‘I wanted to thank you for the money, Theo,’ she answered, her voice bland.

  His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. Then, gliding in with a knife thrust she did not see coming, he said, ‘It was my pleasure. My very considerable pleasure. Yours, too, of course.’

  His eyes unveiled as he spoke, touching her like a caress. A slow, sensual caress. She felt colour flare in her cheeks.

  Bastard! He was doing it deliberately. Don’t react—do not react to him!

  She blanked him. It was hard, excruciatingly hard, but she did it.

  ‘I’ve paid the cheque into my bank already. I stopped off on the way here. I’ve kept my personal account going—the one I opened before we married—which of course makes it easier for paying in a euro cheque. I dare say I’ll suffer from the exchange rate when it’s transferred to my London bank, but, given the size of the sum, that won’t be too much of a loss.’

  She took some more food and continued, her voice with the same light, bland tone. ‘Mind you, it will need to stretch quite a long way. The house that Jem’s inherited needs a lot of work doing to it to make it habitable again. But it’s a wonderful opportunity, of course, and we’re both so very excited
. A complete new start for us both! We’ll be moving there in the summer, which will be lovely. Did I mention the house is in Devonshire? Very near the coast? It’s an old house—Victorian, I believe. Rather appropriate, given my name, don’t you think?’

  She gave a little tinkle of laughter and drank some more water. Her throat was dry with tension. ‘We’re going to have to do huge amounts to the house, of course. Roof, new electrics—all that boring sort of stuff. That’s before we get on to the fun bits like decorating. Still, it will keep us busy! And together, which is even nicer. I always miss Jem when he’s not around—we go back such a long way, and we stick together through everything. Thick and thin.’

  Her eyes were like diamonds. Sparkling and hard. But her gaze as she looked along the table at Theo was limpid, like clear, transparent water. She was hiding nothing from him—every word was the truth. Nothing but the truth.

  Theo had stilled. Not a muscle moved in his body. His face was a mask. Then, lifting his highball to his mouth and lowering it again, the movement completely controlled, he spoke. His voice was casual, so very casual.

  ‘You’re a fortunate woman. Not every woman can boast a lover who’s happy to whore her out for cash.’

  His eyes were blank. Expressionless.

  ‘Or aren’t you going to tell him how you got the money—by having sex with me?’

  She pushed back from the table. Her chair scraped on the tiled floor. As she stood up, she had to cling on to the table to keep upright.

  ‘Will it just be our little secret? Is that it?’ he continued, his eyes still with that same strange, expressionless look in them. ‘So many secrets to keep, though. The way you like me to stroke your breasts, the way your body ripens for me, the way you give that cry in your throat when you orgasm, the way—’

  ‘You bastard!’

  Her voice was shrill, ripped from her lungs.

  His eyes still looked at her, but now there was a dark, black glitter to them. ‘The way you cry out my name as you climax. Will you tell him that, I wonder? Or will that just be another little secret from him?’

  ‘Shut up! Shut up! You unspeakable bastard!