by Julia James
He luxuriated in her covert observation for a few moments longer, then said, ‘Where would you like to go next, Anna?’
Immediately, her gaze cut out. The look of deliberate indifference was back in her face.
‘I have no opinion on the subject,’ she replied, and pretended to drink more coffee.
‘Then I’ll choose, shall I?’ said Leo, with exaggerated politeness.
‘Please do.’ She gave her acid-sweet smile again.
And again, for one bizarre moment, as his eyes caught hers, Leo wanted to laugh out loud. The girl was impossible, outrageous, infuriating—yet there was something about Anna Delane that he could not let go of…
Leo got to his feet, tossing some East Caribbean dollars down on the table. Incredulously, he watched Anna open her purse, then pause.
‘I don’t have any local currency,’ she announced. She glanced around and saw a bank on the corner of one of the streets leading back into the town. Without pausing, she darted across and went in. She emerged a few minutes later and came back to their table, putting down some coins next to his notes.
‘Take them back, Anna,’ Leo said, in a low, dangerous voice.
His good mood had gone—totally. He was right back to wanting to throttle her.
She stared at him. ‘I’m paying,’ she said, ‘for my coffee.’
Greek issued from him in a staccato fire. ‘God almighty, is this some kind of joke?’ He caught her wrist, halting her. ‘You stole a bracelet from me worth at a conservative estimate eighty thousand euros. Don’t even think of trying to make yourself look virtuous by paying for your own damn coffee and clothes.’ He brought his face closer to hers. ‘You’re a thief—nothing but a thief. Don’t ever think I am going to forget that and be impressed by you.’
Anna’s face had gone rigid. Her eyes were like pinpricks of green fire.
‘Understand this, and understand it well, Leo Makarios,’ she hissed at him. ‘I wouldn’t stoop to trying to impress you if it was my last day on earth. Think what you want of me—I don’t give a stuff!’
She twisted out of his grip, and stormed off.
Leo stared after her fulminatingly, then set off after her.
Damn the girl. Damn her to hell! She should be begging him to go easy on her! Should be using all her arts and beauty to try and captivate him, soothe his savage heart and plead for a lighter sentence. She should be making up to him, eager for his approval, his attention.
The way other women did.
Other women always made up to him, sought his attention, his interest. They put themselves out for him, exerting all their charms. They wanted to please him.
And yet Anna Delane, who had stolen his rubies and never shown the slightest sign of contrition about it, who had a thousand, million times more cause to want to please him, was as eager to please him as a piranha was to be a vegetarian!
She’s different in bed. In bed she wants everything you give her…
His eyes shadowed. Yes, but even there, he realised, eager as she was to take the pleasure he bestowed on her, she never, unless he instructed her, took any initiative sexually. Oh, she did as he bade her, and enjoyed it too, he knew that—taking sensual pleasure in caressing him, arousing him, sating him.
But she never did it spontaneously. Never to please him because she wanted to please him. Because she wanted him to be pleased with her. Indulgent of her.
The way other women did.
He thought of Delia Delatore, his last mistress, and the French countess who had been her predecessor. He thought of the parade of women who had passed through his bed.
Every single one of them had always wanted to please him. Because each and every one of them had known how fortunate they were for having been chosen by him. They had known how lucky they were that his eyes had lighted on them and selected them for his bed.
All except one.
Memory stung in his brain like acid.
Anna Delane—on whom he had looked with desire, with wanting, and to whose bedroom he had come, expecting exactly the same reception as every other woman had given him.
And she’d thrown him out on his ear.
Rejected him and scorned him and berated him.
Anger and chagrin pulsed through him.
Then another thought occurred.
Yes, but she was planning all along to steal the rubies.
But that should have made her even more eager to lull him into a sense of false security with her. He’d have been far less likely to suspect her if she’d been pleasing him in bed—for a start, her motivation would have been a lot less. The bracelet might be worth eighty thousand euros, but that was on the open market. Anna Delane would have had to fence it, and whatever she made out of the sale it wouldn’t have been eighty thousand.
Yet as his mistress, pleasing him sufficiently to be kept for several weeks, she must have known she would easily have walked away with gifts of jewellery worth much more than her profit from stealing the Levantsky jewels.
And so much less risky…
So why, why had she thrown him out of her bedroom like that?
It simply didn’t make sense.
He strode after her, to where she was waiting by the car. She looked like a cat who’d had its fur rubbed up the wrong way. He could almost see her tail lashing furiously.
He unlocked the door and she climbed in, whisking her skirts gracefully inside as she sat. She belted herself up, then stared rigidly ahead out of the window.
He wondered whether her teeth were gritted. He wouldn’t be surprised. He could feel his own gritting.
A thought darted into his head.
Why do we keep fighting?
It came from nowhere, and he amended it immediately—Why does she keep fighting me? But it didn’t work. The original version was the one that bit at him as he headed out of town.
There is no ‘we’. There can be no possibility of there being a ‘we’.
He put his good foot down, and shot off.
Perhaps a decent lunch would make him feel better.
Anna looked around her. They’d driven for over forty-five minutes across the interior of the island. She’d spent her time as before, gazing around at the landscape and the scenery. Now they were driving along a twisting narrow lane, slowing every now and then as goats wandered, grazing at the roadside. One final twist, and a stone gateway was opening to their left. Leo swung the car through, into a paved area dotted with cars. He pulled into a parking space and cut the engine.
‘Where are we?’
Anna stared around, not looking at Leo as she asked her question.
Amazing, thought Leo caustically. She’s asked a question. Graciously, he supplied an answer.
‘It’s an old plantation house that’s been converted into a restaurant.’ He leant across to open her door, ignoring the way her body automatically stiffened and pulled away, as if to avoid him.
‘Shall we?’ he enquired, even more graciously.
He drew back his hand and Anna undid her seat belt, breathing out again. She climbed down, feeling the noon-day heat of the Caribbean hit her. She flexed her shoulders and looked around her.
‘This way,’ said Leo, at her side.
She walked along beside him, doing her best to ignore him, but highly conscious of his presence. But then, she always was conscious of his presence, she thought wearily.
Why can’t I be immune to him? Why can’t he just be like a block of wood?
She gave a sigh. It didn’t help to ask such hopeless questions. Leo Makarios had an effect on her that she could not ignore. Even though she desperately longed to.
How much longer can I endure this? How much more can I take? Wanting him and hating him, and hating myself for wanting him, and…
The questions drummed in her head like a pain in her skull. Numbly she followed the stone-paved pathway that led upwards through tropical gardens. The heat settled on her shoulders, making her feel heavy and tired.
She
paused, suppressing another sigh.
‘Are you all right?’
Her head twisted in surprise.
‘What?’
Leo’s eyes flashed briefly.
‘Are you feeling all right?’ he repeated.
‘I’m fine,’ she answered shortly, and made to go on walking.
A hand stayed her, cupping around her bare elbow. She wanted to pull away, but there was something about his grip that held her.
‘What?’ she demanded, this time resisting the impulse to look at him.
‘Anna—listen to me.’
There was something different about his voice. She didn’t know what it was, but it made her look at him. His face was sombre. The expression quite different from any she had seen. For a moment she just looked at him, a slight puzzle in her eyes.
‘Stop—fighting—me.’
The words came heavily, the look he levelled at her even heavier.
A lump seemed to be forming in her throat. It made it difficult for her to speak, but she forced herself. Her chin went up, jaw tightening.
‘Tell me something,’ she shot back. ‘Why do you care less if I fight you or not? Why do you care about anything except getting what you want in bed?’ There was a challenge in her voice. A bitter defiance.
Something shadowed his eyes, so briefly she thought she must have imagined it. Then he answered her.
‘Because I’m tired, Anna. I’m tired and fed up, and my ankle hurts, and I’m hungry, and you’ve given me nothing but grief, and I just want—I just want an easy day for once. OK? Is that so big a deal? Can we really not just this once have a civil, civilised meal together, without you giving me the big freeze the whole damn time?’
Anna’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Why should I? Tell me that. You get the night times! The rest of the day you can go whistle!’
She saw his jaw clench, then slowly unclench.
‘I’ll do a deal with you. A one-off special. Just while my ankle is bad. Tonight you can have off, if—if you lose the attitude today.’
Anna looked at him. Was he serious? Or was this just another baiting mockery of her?
‘Do you mean it?’ she demanded.
‘Oh, yes. Tonight, providing you behave like a normal woman today, you can sleep in your own bed. If, of course—’ and suddenly the baiting, mocking look she’d been expecting was there ‘—you want to.’
Her green eyes flashed. ‘Oh, I want to all right.’
His dark eyes glinted. She thought it was anger, but was not sure. ‘Then we have a deal?’ he posed.
For one moment longer she went on glaring at him. Then she gave a brief nod. After all, she had no choice, did she? Leo Makarios was blackmailing her into sex—any chance she got to escape a night of ‘reparation’ had to be grabbed—didn’t it?
Of course it does! Grab it with both hands! Because if you don’t you’ll know—and he’ll know—why you don’t! And your humiliation at his hands will be complete. Your defeat total.
The thought was unbearable. Only one thing in the world would be worse than Leo Makarios knowing how weak, how vulnerable she was to him.
And that would be him knowing it as well. She would endure anything to prevent that. Even endure having a civil lunch with him.
He let go her elbow.
‘Good,’ was all he said.
He set off along the path again, leaving her to follow.
Lunch was served at tables set out under a wide awning on a terrace with a breathtaking view down over the bay below. A cooling breeze wafted gently, making the heat comfortable.
Anna took her place, gazing out over the vista. It really was beautiful, she thought, and for a moment a pang struck her so deep that it was like the thrust of a knife.
It’s so idyllic, so magical! Why can’t I be here with someone else? Why does it have to be Leo Makarios?
But even as the words formed she knew they were not true. The knife twisted painfully.
It’s not because it’s Leo Makarios—it’s because of the reason I’m here with him. That’s what’s so awful!
Her eyes looked out over the vivid greens of the vegetation, the brilliant azure of the sea, and she felt an ache start inside her—a longing so great that she felt overwhelmed by it.
Oh, God, if only he didn’t think me a thief! If he didn’t think me a thief I could be—
Another voice cut across her mind. Harsh and punishing.
You could be what? His mistress? His sex toy while he wants you, and then dumped for the next one that takes his eye?
Her eyes hardened. Yes, that was the best she could ever be for Leo Makarios. A man who regarded women as mistresses. To be enjoyed, pampered and then disposed of. Hadn’t she heard the way he spoke about Vanessa and his cousin Markos? Why should she assume Leo would think any better of her, even if he didn’t believe she was a thief?
Heavily, she picked up the menu lying in front of her.
‘Anna—’ Leo’s voice was a warning. She flicked her eyes to him questioningly.
‘Yes?’ she responded brusquely.
There was a frown in his eyes.
‘We have a deal, remember?’
For a moment his eyes held hers, and for a moment she looked back at him with her usual baleful expression.
‘Give it a rest, Anna,’ he said wearily.
She slapped her menu down. ‘How can I?’ she breathed vehemently. ‘You want me to suck up to you, don’t you? Like the rest of your women! Fawn all over you and pander to you and—’
‘No.’ The negation snapped from him.
Anna’s eyes flashed.
‘Yes, you do. That’s your idea of normality from a woman. You can’t cope with a woman treating you without kid gloves.’
A look of annoyance darkened his face.
‘You are being ridiculous,’ he replied brusquely. ‘I require only that my partner is…’ he shrugged, clearly searching for a word, then found it ‘…gracious,’ he concluded. ‘And why,’ he went on swiftly, ‘would she wish to be otherwise?’
There was an arrogant question in his expression that exasperated Anna even more, because it showed her exactly what his problem was. Then, with a silent sigh, she subsided. Leo Makarios was rich and gorgeous—no wonder he was spoilt by women. No wonder they sucked up to him, fawning over him, craving him…
Her mind snapped shut. No. She must not think about craving Leo Makarios…desiring him…wanting him so much that night after night she melted her body against his, putting aside, forgetting deliberately, in that burning inferno that consumed her, that the only reason she was in his bed was because the grim alternative was prison…
But I’m in prison anyway—a prison I can never escape from…a prison of passion, of desire, that cages me in night after night…
Except that tonight, if she accepted Leo’s temporary bargain, she would have parole from that prison.
If she could bring herself to be ‘civil’ to the man who was reducing her to such abjectness.
Her chin lifted. She could—she must. For one night at least she might have a reprieve from the prison she went to so helplessly, night after night.
Her eyes went back to the menu, leaving unanswered Leo’s arrogant challenge. For a moment longer she felt his gaze resting on her, as if waiting for her to throw yet another pointless dart at his colossal ego, then she felt him relax. So, minutely, did she, and fell to perusing the range of delicious options—none of which, as ever, she had any intention of choosing.
Yet even as she was mentally closing the menu, prepared to content herself with grilled fish and undressed salad, so, out of nowhere, a spark of rebellion ignited. If she was to get through the day being ‘civil’ to Leo Makarios, then at least she could have some compensation for her ordeal.
When the waiter came to enquire if they were ready to order, on impulse she lifted her head, closed the menu, and announced that she would have prawns fried in coconut milk, served with rice. And she would drink wine as well.
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And calories be hanged! After all, she had something to celebrate—a night off from Leo Makarios.
Without volition, her eyes strayed to him as he finished giving the waiter his own order, and then accepted the wine menu from the hovering sommelier. He was studying the list, brows drawn in faint concentration. She felt emotion pour through her. She waited for it to be anger. That was the safe emotion to feel about Leo Makarios.
The only safe one.
But it wasn’t anger. Instead, a different emotion seemed to be taking her over. One she had no business feeling—none at all. None. But she felt it all the same.
She went on gazing at him, drinking him in.
I could look at him all day…
All night….
For ever.
Cold chilled through her as the words formed unbidden in her head. She tried to push them away, undo them, unthink them. She must not let them be said, thought.
Deliberately, she forced herself to keep staring at him.
The dark hair, the planes of his face, those potent heavy-lidded eyes, the wide, sensual mouth, the hard line of his jaw—all were achingly familiar. There wasn’t an inch of his face, his body, that she had not kissed, caressed, touched.
But it’s the face of a stranger. A complete stranger.
A stranger who can never, never be anything else.
For a moment so brief, and yet so agonising, she sat there, surrounded by other couples, other families, chatting away, eating and drinking in this beautiful place, shaded from the hot sun, yet basking in its balmy warmth, with the deep blue bay and emerald green coastline sweeping before them, and wished, suddenly, deeply, out of nowhere, that she and Leo Makarios were just one of those couples.
Any of them—young or old, good-looking or plain—it didn’t matter. But to be here like them, on holiday, together…a real couple…
Not his blackmailed bed partner, not his pampered mistress—but something far, far more to him…
Angrily, she smashed the image to pieces in her mind. She was insane even to think such a thing about Leo Makarios. Her expression tightened and she picked up her glass, sipping sparkling mineral water, making herself look back over the vista beyond. She saw from the corner of her eye Leo give his choice to the sommelier, who then glided away.