Sold to the Enemy

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Sold to the Enemy Page 4

by Sarah Morgan


  ‘I—’ She was dizzy with euphoria, hardly able to get her head around what had just happened. She was going to be able to start her own business, rent a small apartment and help her mother leave her father. She wanted to fling her arms round him and then remembered that this was a business meeting and she was pretty sure people didn’t do things like that in business meetings. ‘That’s an excellent outcome. Thank you. You won’t be sorry.’ She should shake his hand. Yes, that was what she should do. Shake his hand to seal the deal.

  Standing up, she walked towards him and held out her hand.

  His hand closed over hers, warm and strong, and suddenly what had begun as a simple handshake became something else entirely. He smelt good. She had no idea whether it was shampoo or something different but it made her want to bury her face in his neck and inhale deeply. All she had to do was lean forward and she’d be kissing him. Horrified by how tempted she was, she looked down at her hand instead and saw the expensive watch on his wrist and his lean, bronzed fingers linked intimately with hers.

  Her stomach clenched.

  Power and masculinity throbbed from him and suddenly all she could think about was sex—which was crazy because she knew nothing about sex.

  But he did.

  ‘So now that’s out of the way,’ he drawled softly, ‘the question is how far are you willing to take this quest for independence?’

  Busy imagining those strong, confident hands on her body, she felt her heart thud. ‘Why are you asking?’

  ‘Because I’m hosting a party tonight and I find myself minus a date. How do you feel about celebrating your new-found independence in style?’

  Her eyes lifted to his and she saw amusement there. Amusement and something a little bit dangerous.

  The excitement came in a whoosh that drove the air from her lungs.

  Her head spun. The hungry look in his eyes was interfering with the normally smooth rhythm of her breathing. ‘You’re inviting me to a party?’ She never went to parties unless her father decided it was time to play Happy Families in public. They were the most painful moments of her life. And the loneliest, all of them fake.

  She’d never been to a party for the sheer fun of it. Never been to a party where she was allowed to be herself.

  She wondered why he was asking her.

  ‘If I say no does that mean—?’

  ‘You have my agreement on the loan. Your answer has no effect on our deal.’

  In that case she should walk away. There would be time to party once she was safely away from the island. Selene licked her lips. ‘What sort of party is it?’

  ‘A strictly grown-up event. No jelly or ice cream in sight.’

  A party. With him.

  ‘You’re asking me to come as your date?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  The excitement was sharper than when he’d agreed to lend her the money. A date. A party. With this man. She’d never done anything like that in her life.

  She should say no. Now that he’d agreed to help her she should get back to Antaxos, persuade her mother to leave and be long gone before her father returned. She couldn’t possibly say yes even though she wanted to more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

  On the other hand, why not?

  For the first time in her life she was free to make her own decision about something. For once her father wasn’t dictating her actions, no one was watching her and her mother was safe. She had no one to think about but herself. If she wanted to go to a party, she could. And wasn’t that the point of all this? To be able to live her life the way she wanted to live it?

  Feeling liberated, she opened her mouth. ‘I don’t have anything to wear.’

  ‘That’s easily solved.’

  ‘I have this fantasy about wearing a wicked red dress and drinking champagne from a tall, slim glass with a handsome man in a dinner jacket. Would we drink champagne?’

  His mouth curved into a smile so sexy it should have been illegal. ‘All night.’

  ‘And would we—?’

  The devil danced in his eyes and his mouth moved fractionally closer to hers. ‘If you’re asking what I think you’re asking then the answer is yes, we definitely would.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘HOW did he arrange for these dresses to be delivered so fast? And how did he guess my size? On second thoughts, don’t answer that.’ Confronted with a rail of the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen, Selene felt as if she’d stepped onto a Hollywood movie set. Part of her felt anxious about her decision to stay, but another part felt wildly excited. She listened to the excited part and ignored the anxiety. That, she reasoned, came from too many years of not being allowed to make her own decisions. It was natural that it felt strange.

  Maria pulled an elegant clutch bag from tissue paper. ‘When Stefan picks up the phone, people respond at supersonic speed. The benefits of being a man of power.’

  ‘Except that you were the one who did the phoning.’

  ‘True.’ Maria smiled. ‘Power by proxy. Why don’t you start by choosing a dress?’

  ‘Is Stefan joining us?’

  ‘He sends his apologies. He has one more important meeting he has to take before you leave.’

  ‘I don’t mind. I’d be too self-conscious to strip in front of him anyway and it’s more fun with a woman. It was thoughtful of him to arrange for you to help me.’ She saw Maria’s expression change. ‘You don’t think he’s thoughtful?’

  The other woman removed a beautiful pair of shoes from a bag. ‘That’s certainly an adjective I’ve not heard applied to him before.’

  ‘He’s running a business. Of course he has to be tough. But on the two occasions I’ve met him he’s been kind to me.’

  Maria put the shoes down in front of her. ‘You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that. Why don’t you pick a dress and try it on? Because once he’s finished his meeting he won’t want to hang around. Is there anything in particular that grabs your attention?’

  ‘The red one.’ There was no other choice for her and the colour matched her mood. Bold. ‘I’ve never worn anything like that in my life.’ She reached for a shimmering sheath of scarlet with jewels on the strapless bodice. ‘This is gorgeous. Will it be over the top?’

  ‘No. It’s a very glamorous party. That dress is very sophisticated.’ Maria stared at it for a long moment. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to pick a different one? Maybe the blue?’

  ‘You don’t think Stefan will like the red one?’

  ‘I think he might like it a little too much.’

  ‘How can he possibly like it too much?’

  ‘Selene…’ The other woman hesitated. ‘Are you sure you want to go to this party?’

  ‘Want to go? I’m desperate to go. You have no idea how boring my life has been up to now. I’m going to dress up, drink champagne and have the most amazing night with Stefan.’

  ‘Just as long as you know that’s all it will be.’ Maria cleared her throat gently. ‘Stefan is the stuff of female dreams, but he quickly turns into a nightmare for most women. He isn’t the happy-ever-after type—you do know that, don’t you? Because you seem like a really nice girl and I’d hate to see you hurt.’

  Selene paused with her hand on the dress.

  She knew all about hurt and this wasn’t it. ‘I won’t be hurt. I’m excited. It will be fun to just enjoy myself for one night.’ Fun to be able to make a decision to go to a party. Fun to decide what to wear. For once, her life felt almost normal.

  ‘You don’t usually enjoy yourself?’

  ‘I have an overprotective father.’ Realising that she’d said more than she intended to, Selene draped the dress over her arm. ‘Is there somewhere I can try it on?’

  ‘You’ll need underwear.’ Maria handed her several boxes. ‘Go and change and if you need help, call me.’

  An hour later Selene was the proud owner of the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen, along with a small emergency wardrobe sui
table for an overnight stay at a luxury villa on a Greek island. Ahead of her lay the most exciting night of her life, and if lurking underneath her happiness was a fear that her father might return early she dismissed it.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  She’d have plenty of time to get home, persuade her mother to leave and be long gone before he returned.

  * * *

  ‘You can’t do this. You can’t take that girl to the party. It’s immoral.’

  Stefan glanced up from the papers he was signing to find Maria standing in front of his desk like a general facing down an enemy army.

  ‘Now, that’s the look you’re supposed to give unwanted visitors.’ He flung down his pen. ‘Do I need to remind you that you were the one who showed her into the lion’s den?’

  ‘I’m serious, Stefan. Take someone else. Someone more your type.’

  ‘Just this morning you were lecturing me on picking the wrong type. Make up your mind.’

  ‘I wasn’t telling you to prey on innocent girls.’

  ‘She’s an adult. She knows what she’s doing.’ He picked up his pen and flicked through the papers on his desk.

  ‘She’s an idealist. She thinks you’re thoughtful and kind.’

  ‘I know.’ Smiling, Stefan signed the back page. ‘For once, I’m the good guy. An unfamiliar role, I admit, but I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying the novelty.’

  ‘You’re treating her like a shiny new toy that you can play with.’ Maria’s mouth set in a firm line. ‘Send her home to her father.’

  Stefan was careful not to let the sudden flare of emotion show on his face. Slowly, he put his pen down. ‘Do you know who her father is?’

  ‘No. Although she mentioned something about him being overprotective.’

  ‘Is that a useful synonym for “tyrant”, I wonder? Her father, Maria, is Stavros Antaxos.’ He watched as Maria’s face lost some of its colour. ‘Yes. Exactly.’ He heard his voice harden and it irritated him that just saying the name was enough to do that to him. He’d had over two decades to learn how to control his response.

  ‘How on earth can a man like that produce someone as charming as Selene?’

  He’d been asking himself the same question.

  ‘I assume she takes after her mother.’

  Maria looked troubled. ‘But why would someone as wealthy as her, from such a close family, come to you?’

  He’d been asking himself the same question. Repeatedly. ‘I’m a hero, didn’t you know? I’m the first man women think of when they’re in trouble.’

  ‘You’re the man who causes the trouble.’

  ‘Ouch, that’s harsh.’ Stefan leaned back and stretched out his legs. ‘Here I am, sword at the ready, eager to chop the head off a dragon to save the maiden, and all you can do is knock my confidence.’

  She didn’t smile. ‘Is that really what’s going on here? Because it occurred to me that maybe you’re using the maiden to taunt the dragon.’

  Stefan’s smile didn’t slip. ‘When we were dishing out roles in this company I picked cynic, not you.’

  ‘We’re all cynical here. It’s contagious. Does she know how much her father hates you? Does she know the story?’

  No one knew the story. Not even Maria, whom he allowed more liberties than most. Oh, she thought she knew—thought it was all about business rivalry and two alpha males acting out their deeply competitive natures. She had no idea how far back it went, or how deep the scars. And why would she? They weren’t visible. He didn’t allow them to be visible.

  ‘It’s because of my relationship with her father that she chose me.’

  Maria’s mouth flattened with disapproval.

  ‘Are you sure this isn’t a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire?’

  ‘You’re suggesting I’m worse than Antaxos? That is hardly a complimentary view of one’s boss.’

  ‘We’re not talking about work right now. My admiration for your intellect and business skills is boundless but when it comes to women you’re bad news. What are your plans for her, Stefan?’

  ‘When it comes to women I never make plans. You should know that by now. “Plan” implies a future and we both know I don’t think like that. I’ve agreed to help her with her business—which, by the way, looks remarkably interesting on paper, particularly when you consider the product. And I’m taking her to a party. I intend to provide more fun than she’s had in the rest of her life. She can make her own decisions about how she spends her time. She’s twenty-two and on a quest for independence.’ Stefan battled a disturbingly vivid image of her breasts revealed through a cloud of lace. ‘All grown up.’

  ‘She’s very inexperienced.’

  ‘Yes. I’m finding that unusually appealing.’

  ‘And does that appeal have anything to do with the fact you are the last man her father would want her to be with? Thinking of her with you will drive him demented.’

  Stefan smiled. ‘I consider that an added bonus.’

  ‘I’m worried about her, Stefan.’

  ‘She came to me. She asked for my help. I’m giving it.’ It was obvious that there was something going on beneath the surface and it intrigued him. She was playing a game, but he wasn’t sure which game. ‘I don’t recall you ever being this protective of the women I date before.’

  ‘That’s because you normally date women who don’t need protecting from anything.’

  ‘So maybe it’s time for a change.’ Cutting off the conversation, he rose to his feet. ‘How long until she’s ready? No doubt she’s still pulling clothes on and off, trying to decide what to wear.’

  ‘She decided what to wear in less than five seconds and it took her barely more than that to try it on.’

  Used to women who could waste the best part of a day selecting one outfit, he was impressed. ‘I like her more and more.’

  ‘She has a very high opinion of you.’

  ‘I know.’ He walked past her to the door and Maria made a frustrated sound.

  ‘Where is your conscience?’

  Stefan picked up his jacket. ‘I don’t have a conscience.’

  * * *

  When he’d mentioned his villa she’d imagined somewhere small. She hadn’t for one moment expected this spacious, airy mansion with high ceilings and acres of glass. Here, in this testament to innovative architecture, there were no dark corners or contagious gloom, just dazzling light exploding across marble floors and picking out the warm Mediterranean colours that turned the deceptively simple interior into a luxurious sanctuary.

  Outside, a vine-shaded terrace led to gardens that created a blur of extravagant colour as they tumbled down a gentle slope that led to a crescent beach. And even there the idyll didn’t end. Unlike Antaxos, there were no killer rocks or dark, fathomless depths that threatened to swallow a person and leave no trace. Just sand of the softest, creamiest yellow and tiny silver fish dancing in the clear shallow water. The whole scene was so tempting that she, who avoided water, just wanted to rip off her shoes and plunge into the safe, cool shallows.

  ‘So this is why people see the Greek Islands as a tourist destination.’ She spoke without thinking and her unguarded comment earned her a questioning look.

  ‘Was the reason for that choice in doubt?’

  Staring out of huge windows across the garden to the turquoise sea, she felt something stir inside her. It was like living a life in black and white and suddenly seeing it in colour. ‘Antaxos isn’t anything like this. No soft sand, just nasty rocks—’ She just stopped herself mentioning the rumour that a woman who’d been madly in love with her father had once fallen from those rocks and drowned. ‘My father’s house—our house—is built of stone with small windows.’ She managed to say it without shuddering. ‘The design supposedly keeps the heat out.’ And it kept everything and everyone else out, too. The bleak, dark atmosphere inside the place had somehow permeated the stone so that even the building felt unfriendly. ‘It’s stuffy in the summe
r and dark and cheerless in the winter. I like the light here. You have a very happy home.’

  ‘Happy?’ He glanced up at the villa, a faint frown between his eyes. ‘You think a building has moods?’

  ‘Definitely. Don’t you?’

  ‘I think a building is a building.’

  ‘Oh, no, that isn’t true. A building can make a person feel different. Here, the sunshine makes you want to smile. And all this space—it feels like being free.’ She spread her arms. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a bird so I can fly.’ Fly away from the island that had held her trapped for so long.

  But she’d finally escaped. She’d done it.

  This was the start of her new life.

  Excited, she did a twirl. Stefan shot out a hand and steadied her before she lost her balance. ‘Probably best if you don’t fly here. I’ve seen pictures of your home on Antaxos. You live in a building the size of a castle.’

  Selene was conscious of the strength of his fingers on her arm. ‘It isn’t anything like this. My father doesn’t like spending money on material things.’

  ‘Is there anything that your father does like?’

  Hurting people.

  She stood, searching for an appropriate response to his question, her heart a ball of pain in her chest. ‘Winning,’ she said finally. ‘He likes winning.’

  ‘Yes.’ His hand dropped abruptly from her arm. ‘Yes, he does.’

  And he’d know, of course, because he was her father’s biggest business rival. She sensed the anger in him and she also sensed something more. Something dark lurked behind those sexy eyes. ‘You really hate my father, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s true to say he’s not my favourite person in the world.’ The deceptively light banter and that attractive slanting smile didn’t fool her.

  This man was every bit as tough as her father.

  She felt a twinge of unease, but already he was strolling ahead of her. She tried to ignore the little voice in her head telling her this might not have been such a good idea after all.

 

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