by Jennie Lucas
He stared at the way her teeth rubbed against her lower lip. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, lightly tracing his finger against her cheek. “And so wild. So much passion behind that prim, dignified secretary. For all those years I never knew.”
She started to tremble. She had to get out of here. She had to escape. She was already perilously close to giving in.
Swallowing, she tried to pick a fight. “Where’s Lindsey tonight?”
“I have no idea. I fired her.”
“You did—what?”
“She was never my lover, Anna. She fed you lies out of some deluded hope that she might be someday. But she was never my type.”
“What’s your type?” she retorted feebly, trying to hide her shock about Lindsey.
He blinked, then shook his head, giving her a predatory smile. “Arrogant Russian-born women with black hair, cat-shaped eyes and a tart mouth.” He leaned forward to breathe in her hair, whispering in her ear. “I remember the sweet taste of you. Tart and sweet all over, Anna…”
She struggled not to remember, not to feel anything as his voice washed over her senses. “Lindsey really wasn’t your lover?”
“Since that first night we were together you’ve been the only one.” He ran his finger gently along her lips. “You’re the mother of my child. I need you, Anna. In my home. In my bed.”
Oh, my God. She was dizzy with longing, unable to speak.
“You are meant to be my wife.” He kissed her softly on the forehead, her cheeks. “It is fate.”
“But I—I don’t want you,” she managed, her heart threatening to jump out of her ribcage.
“Prove it,” he whispered. Encircling her body with his strong arms, he slowly traced his hand down her bare back. She could feel the warmth of his skin, the strength of his hand.
“I don’t,” she insisted, but her voice was so weak that even she didn’t believe it.
He backed her up against the wall between a large plant and a Greek statue in the wide, dark hallway. “Are you sure?”
The only thing of which she was sure was that the strain of not reaching for him was causing her physical pain. She flattened her trembling palms against the wall as he gently ran his hand through her tangled dark hair. His fingers brushed against the sensitive flesh of her earlobe. He traced lightly down her neck.
“I always get what I want, and I’ve never wanted any woman like I want you…”
Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her. His lips was gentle and oh, so seductive. Pressing her hands against his chest, she willed herself to resist. To remember the cruel way he’d humiliated her before.
I won’t give in this time. I won’t…
But even as she made token resistance she felt her body surrender. Her head leaned back as his tongue teased her, as his lips seared her own. She felt her mind, soul, everything float away until only longing was left.
“No!” With her last bit of will-power she pushed him away. She tried to push past him toward her room, but he blocked her. She stumbled over her high-heeled sandals, kicking them off as she turned and ran down the hall. He pursued her, as single-minded as a wolf stalking a deer. She raced outside, banging the door behind her.
In the courtyard, dark clouds had spread across the sky, and she could smell coming rain. Silver threads of moonlight laced the sky, barely holding back the storm.
Barefoot, Anna tripped across the mosaic tiles of the courtyard, skirting the edge of the pool’s shimmering water. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight as she ran beneath the dark shadows of palm trees.
Nikos caught her in front of the enormous Moroccan fountain, his arms wrapping around her from behind.
“I need you, Anna,” he said huskily in her ear, holding her body against his own. “And you need me. Don’t deny it.”
Kissing her neck from behind, he ran his hands over her, cupping her breasts in the suede.
Sucking in her breath, she whirled to face him. Angry words fell unspoken as she saw his face. His handsome, strong face, made somehow even more masculine with the dark bristles of a five o’clock shadow on his chin. In the snug black T-shirt and dark jeans he didn’t look like a billionaire tycoon. He looked like a biker, dangerous and dark, and a devil in bed.
He was right. She wanted him.
Needed him.
Could so easily love him…
“I can’t,” she gasped aloud.
“Can’t?” He held her even tighter.
In spite of her resolve, honesty poured out of her. “I can’t fight you anymore…”
His sensual lips curved into a smile as he reached his hand behind her head and pulled her into a hot, hard kiss. She returned the kiss hungrily, tasting blood in the intensity of their mutual need. His blood? Hers? She didn’t care. All she knew was that she’d been denied his touch for too long. If he stopped kissing her now she would die.
She wanted to possess him as thoroughly and savagely as he’d possessed her soul…
She pressed her hands against his back, desperate to pull him closer, but it wasn’t enough. She brought her hands between them, beneath his shirt, running her hands up his taut belly. She heard him gasp as she explored the trail of hair up his chest, feeling the hard planes of his torso. He’d always been strong, but his muscles were bigger now, harder than they’d ever been. And more…
“What’s this?” she murmured aloud, but didn’t wait for an answer. She yanked on the black T-shirt, and he let her pull it off his body. She lightly traced a hard ridge across his naked collarbone, then found another one over his ribs.
“You have new scars,” she whispered.
He shrugged, a deceptively careless gesture. “I worked some aggression out in the boxing ring while you were gone.”
“I’m sorry—”
“I’m not. I’m stronger now. No one will ever have to do my fighting for me again.”
Unlike most rich men, she thought in a daze. Unlike Victor.
Nikos ran his hands up and down her halter top, caressing the soft suede, pressing her breasts upwards until they threatened to spill over. He reached beneath the top, cupping and weighing their fullness, then bent to nuzzle between them. The dark stubble of his chin was rough against her tender skin, sending prickles all over her body as he licked his way slowly to her neck. He sucked at the crook of her shoulder, causing pain and pleasure and a mark of possession.
She moaned softly, arching into him. He pushed her back roughly against the tiled wall of the courtyard. Her eyelids fluttered, and as if in a dream she saw the splash of colorful tile in the moonlight, heard the burble of the stone fountain.
She couldn’t let this happen…
She couldn’t stop herself from letting it happen…
Dazed and unsteady, she threw her arms back against the wall for support. He pressed his hands on the small of her back, pulling her closer, tighter. His naked chest pressed against her, the hard muscles of his arms wrapped around her bare arms. Their legs were tangled as she felt the naked skin of his taut belly against her own. He kissed her hard, running his hands through her hair.
He ran his hands along the sides of her jeans. Jeans! She cursed the choice. Why hadn’t she worn a skirt? He grabbed her backside, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around him. She could feel how hard he was, how ready for her. She wanted him to take her here, now, against the wall, before she had time to think.
“God, I want you,” he whispered. “For the last year you’re the only woman I’ve been able to think about. Just you. Only you.”
She took a deep breath. “Then take me.”
There. She’d said it. Right or wrong, she’d dared to admit what they both already knew: she wanted him. Her cheeks felt hot; she felt like a hoyden. She took a deep breath. “But please be gentle. My—my doctor said the first time I had sex after the baby might feel like…like I was a virgin. It might hurt.”
He pulled back abruptly, giving her a searing look. “I would never hurt you, agape mou.
”
At that moment she believed him. “I know.”
But he still hesitated, looking troubled. She realized that he was holding himself back because he didn’t want to cause her pain. He still cared about her. For the first time she felt the magnitude of her own power over him, and it thrilled her.
She smiled up at him, tracing the beauty of his slightly crooked nose with her fingertip, touching his bare scars. He was a warrior, fierce and powerful, and frightening in his beauty.
But, powerful as he was, she realized she could match his fire.
Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she unwrapped her legs from his body. Backing away, she reached behind her and untied her halter top. It fell into her hands, leaving her upper body naked. Moonlight briefly drenched her skin in an opalescent glow the color of pearls, then disappeared behind the dark clouds that were rapidly covering the sky.
She stood in front of him in the semidarkness, straight and tall. She’d never been this brave before. Even during the months of their affair she’d always let him take the lead. Nervous at her own daring, she looked into his face.
His expression was strained. With a low growl he lifted her back into his arms, pressing her against the wall. The feeling of his skin against her own, without the halter top to separate them, was exquisite. But it wasn’t enough—still not nearly enough.
Clasping her wrists tightly in one massive hand, he pulled her arms over her head, kissing down her body as he moved his other hand between her legs. Her earlier fear of pain was already forgotten as she moved against him, wanting to feel more. To feel him. Above her, she could hear the howl of rising wind, and she felt small drops of rain against her overheated skin. Her hair whipped wildly as she leaned her head back, hardly able to breathe, out of her mind with longing.
“I take it all back,” she gasped. “Don’t be gentle. Don’t make me wait. Take me now.”
He gave her a lazy smile as his fingers caressed her through her jeans. “You want me to take you here? Against the wall?”
“Yes. And I don’t give a damn who might see.” She only knew that if he kept stroking her through her jeans she was going to come any second.
But he didn’t make a move to pull off her jeans. Instead he kept stroking her, moving his chest against hers, plundering her mouth with his own.
“Stop,” she panted. Pushing his hand away, she strained toward him, her hands fumbling at his zipper. “I want to feel you inside me—”
“No.” He grabbed her hands. “Wait.”
A roll of thunder shattered the clouds and cold rain began to fall, splattering across the courtyard and pool. Wind howled across the desert, rattling the palm trees high above them as they stared at each other.
“I want you. But—” He blinked, as if trying to clear his mind of a fog, shaking his head like a wolf scattering water from his fur. “This is a mistake. When I make love to you again it will be in a bed…”
She saw a glimmer of hope. “My bedroom is—”
“As my wife,” he finished.
They stared at each other in the moonlight, whipped by wind and hard rain. Anna was suddenly aware that she was standing half naked, with cold, hard rain sleeting down her bare breasts.
She’d just thrown herself at him.
And he’d refused her. Her cheeks flushed with shame.
“If you wait for me to marry you, you’ll wait forever,” she retorted, blinking back angry tears. He’d only been trying to prove his power over her, and she’d fallen for it yet again. She reached down to the tiled floor and snatched up her halter top, now ruined in the rain. Her hands shook as she tied the strings in back. Her teeth chattered as she said, “Just being your mistress nearly killed me. I will never be your wife, Nikos. Never.”
Beneath the darkness of the desert storm she could barely see his face for shadows. But his voice was low and dangerous, resonant with the certainty that only came from power. “We’ll see.”
The next morning, Nikos growled at the housekeeper’s cheery greeting as she brought his breakfast to the table. She set down a cup of strong Greek coffee and a plate of eggs, bacon and toast, then left. He stared blankly at the morning editions of the Wall Street Journal and the local Review-Journal and cursed himself for a fool.
He hadn’t slept all night, and it was his own damned fault.
It was not in his nature to be patient, but he’d left Anna in the courtyard and gone to his bedroom alone. Where he’d tossed and turned until dawn.
He swore softly to himself. If he’d just made love to Anna last night, perhaps he’d already be free of this spell.
He took a gulp of the hot coffee. He’d need all the help he could get to make it through the day. He had to secure a new secretary to replace Lindsey, the negotiations for the land lease bid for his new casino resort project in Singapore were at a critical juncture, and all he could think about was getting Anna in bed. He was so wound up he couldn’t see straight.
He was off his game. Just when his business urgently needed his attention. It was intolerable.
And the worst thing was he had no idea how to convince Anna to be his wife. It was the best thing for everyone. Damn it, why couldn’t she see that?
He’d already reasoned with her. Fired Lindsey. Bought her a two-hundred-thousand-dollar ring. He’d offered Anna wealth and the protection of his name, and she’d thrown them back in his face.
Even seducing her hadn’t made her agree to his proposal. For a man accustomed to negotiation, he was in a tough spot. What was left to offer?
“More toast, Mr. Stavrakis?”
He growled in reply. Accustomed to his moods, the housekeeper gave him a cheerful nod. “By the way, thank you for hiring Mrs. Burbridge. She’s already popular among the staff. And such a sweet baby you have too, sir, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Thank you,” he bit out, then picked up the nearest paper to signal the end of the conversation. After the housekeeper had left he took several bites of food, then threw his paper down and went to look for Anna.
He found her at the pool, and watched her for several seconds from the doorway before she saw him.
She was in the water, holding Michael. The baby was laughing and splashing as she skimmed him through the water in the warm morning sun. Anna held him close, pointing out things in the courtyard. “And those are palm trees, and a fountain. That’s the blue sky, and the water is blue too. It’s going to be hot today,” she said to the baby, smiling. “So different from your great-grandmama’s old palace, isn’t it, Misha?”
Nikos envied her playful ease with the baby. He felt like an outsider looking at a loving family. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Having a child was his chance for a fresh start. To have a family of his own. To be the father he himself had never had. Damn it, how had everything gone so wrong?
It should have made him resent her, reminded him to hate her, but instead he felt only envy and a whisper of loneliness. Anna was simply in the pool doing nothing, splashing and wading, but he could tell she was having the time of her life because she loved just spending time with their child.
He’d been wrong to think about taking Michael away from her. Even if he’d been cruel enough to do it, Anna never would have accepted it. She would have fought him all the way. She had absolute loyalty and a single-minded devotion to those she loved.
His eyes went wide.
That was how he could get Anna to marry him.
Not jewelry. Not money. Not even sex.
Love. Love was the glue that would bind her.
He had to make Anna fall in love with him—fall so hard and fast that she’d not only marry him but would spend the rest of her life trying to get his love in return.
Which, of course, he wouldn’t give her. He wasn’t a fool. Loving her would make him weak when he most needed to be strong. How could he guard his family, protect them as they deserved, if his judgment was impaired? He’d never allowed himself to love anyone, and he never intended to
.
But her loving him—that was something else. She had a character that was born for devotion. If she loved him it would ensure her loyalty for a lifetime. It would keep his son safe with a loving mother, and he’d be protected from stepfathers like Sinistyn.
It couldn’t be that hard to make Anna love him, he reasoned. She’d said she loved him before, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. All he needed to do was repeat those same conditions and she would do so again.
But she must never suspect what he was doing. She had to think she was falling for him of her own free will.
He narrowed his eyes, watching as Anna laughed with their baby, splashing in the pool, tilting her lovely pale face back to drink in the warm Nevada sun.
What carrot could he dangle in front of her to convince her to be with him and spend unguarded time together?
What if he allowed her to work as his secretary again? Just for a few days? Of course it would be temporary. And, hell, he’d actually be grateful for Anna’s help in selecting a new secretary. Maybe she could even help polish the negotiations for the Singapore deal.
But it wouldn’t take long. A week, maybe just a few days of working together. He’d put on the charm. He’d spout nonsense about his feelings, if that was what it took. He’d wine her and dine her until she surrendered her body and soul.
And what a body. Her skin was pale as a Russian winter, but she looked sexy as hell, barely decent beneath a tiny string bikini that matched the alluring turquoise of the water. She’d certainly never worn anything like that when she was his mistress. She’d never flaunted her curves, never tried once to tease him. She hadn’t had to; she’d driven him wild even as a buttoned-up secretary who wore her hair in a bun and covered up her body with elegant loose-fitting suits.
But who was this siren in her place? String bikini today. Tight jeans and clinging halter top yesterday. Had Anna really changed so much?
He saw her give a worried glance at the sun and, cuddling the baby to her chest, she climbed up the wide pool steps. She pulled sunscreen out of the old, frayed diaper bag sitting on the stone table near the fountain. Sitting back on a nearby lounge chair, she sat the chubby baby down on her flat belly and playfully tickled him while slathering him with sunscreen.