Читать книгу Not Just the Greek's Wife - Люси Монро, Lucy Monroe, Люси Монро - Страница 6
CHAPTER TWO
ОглавлениеARISTON sipped from his cup—matching china to hers that probably cost more than most of the paintings she had for sale in her gallery—and made a face. “I never understood your taste for flavored coffee.”
“Surely Jean could have made you the dark Arabic blend you prefer.” Chloe had always thought his beverage of preference tasted like espresso even when it was prepared in the automatic drip.
And to her way of thinking, espresso belonged in gourmet coffees with lots of milk and yummy flavorings. The thought of drinking it straight out of one of those tiny cups always made her shudder.
He dismissed her suggestion with a wave of his hand. “That would have required preparing two pots, not one.”
Chloe sincerely doubted it. If Jean didn’t have one of those fancy single-cup coffeemakers in the small kitchen behind her own office, Chloe would be shocked.
Which meant that Jean had served Ariston Chloe’s favorite on purpose. Why?
“You told her ahead of time to make my favorite,” Chloe guessed, gobsmacked at the idea and wholly unable to understand what he hoped to gain by doing so.
She was the first to admit she didn’t begin to operate on the Machiavellian level he did when it came to business, but this was beyond her. It was as if he was trying to be accommodating and when it came to business, she knew her ex-husband was anything but.
Maybe he was trying to lull her into a false sense of complacency? To what purpose? He held all the cards in the deck, not just the good ones, and they both knew it.
“Naturally. It was only polite.”
“If you say so.” Realizing how rude that sounded, which had not been her intention, she added, “Thank you.”
“That aside,” he said as if the coffee discussion had derailed them from talking about what really mattered. “Entering such an arrangement with unexpressed resentments for its terms wasn’t very ethical of you, was it?” he chided.
Ethical? Was the man serious?
Needing to move, she jumped up and walked over to the nearest wall of windows. She stared down at the city, people and cars made tiny by distance. “Do you honestly believe I didn’t express my unhappiness at the idea of quitting art school and being forced into what amounted to a medieval marriage bargain to my father?”
Before she’d met Ariston and realized that dreams could change.
“Eber implied to my grandfather that you were entirely on board with the plan.” Ariston spoke from behind her.
She wasn’t surprised that in her agitation, she hadn’t realized he’d moved.
She didn’t bother to turn and face him, however. “Right. And you both believed him. It never occurred to you that he might have simply cut funding to my schooling and living expenses, effectively getting me evicted from my dorm?”
Instead of the city below, she saw the face of the dean of her college when the older man had been forced to give Chloe the news. They’d been midway through the term and she’d been sure her father couldn’t demand his money back.
But apparently powerful men could do things other mere mortals couldn’t.
“I suppose you never guessed he might freeze my accounts because they were all in his name, too? No, I doubt you even thought about why I agreed to that barbaric bargain.”
“Bargains such as ours are common enough among the world’s powerful in both business and politics. You needn’t act as if you were sold into marriage in some medieval contract in which you had no say or personal rights.”
She spun to face him, old anger brought about by a feeling of utter helplessness rising to the fore. “Wasn’t I? I was a twenty-year-old college student, Ariston! I’d only ever worked part-time in an art supply store for hobby money. I had no clue how to even begin going about getting my life back when he took it away.”
Ariston’s handsome face set in unreadable lines, but emotion she couldn’t name flickered briefly in his blue eyes. “You never told me any of this.”
“By the time I met you, both my father and my sister had put the emotional screws in.” And Chloe had forgiven Rhea, though she doubted she ever would her father. Rhea’s motives hadn’t all been about the company; she’d believed the marriage would be good for Chloe, too.
Chloe laughed harshly. “Rhea made it clear that if she weren’t already married, she would have willingly sacrificed herself for the good of our family and our heritage. That’s how she and my father see the company, as if it is a living entity deserving of every manner of sacrifice and effort.”
She didn’t blame her sister. Not even a little. They’d both been raised in the same emotional wasteland and each of them had found different ways to cope.
Rhea had sought their father’s love and approval the only way she’d known how—through the business. The one and only thing he ever had truly loved.
“I am aware.”
“Then I met you.” And against all odds and what her mind told her was possible, Chloe had fallen for her Greek tycoon on first sight. Fully, irrevocably and completely.
His hands fisted at his side as if he wanted to reach out, but he forced himself not to. “And expressed none of your concerns.”
“No. You and my father had made your plans, but I had hopes that complying with them might lead to something else.” Foolish, youthful hopes that she now knew for the ridiculous fantasies they were.
She dropped her head, not wanting to see his face. Not being able to bear it right then.
“Look at me,” he commanded, as if he’d read her mind and was truly bothered by her thoughts.
She considered denying him, but what was the point? This conversation had to happen so they could have the one she’d come for. Rhea’s happiness depended on it.
And Rhea deserved to be happy. In her own way, she’d sacrificed more than Chloe ever had because she’d never walked away.
Chloe lifted her head, and whatever Ariston saw in her face made his crease in a frown. “What hopes?”
“They don’t matter anymore.” They never had, not to him … not to her father.
“I would still prefer to know what they were.”
“No,” she said with absolute implacability. She’d shared all the confidences she was going to with this man.
His look assessed her. “You have changed.”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer. “In every way, I wonder?”
Shock paralyzed her as his nearness brought a wholly unexpected reaction. She’d thought her libido had died with her marriage, but her body was telling her just how wrong she’d been.
She wanted him.
She managed to move back, but somehow she gained no distance between them as he matched her step for step until she stood against the window. His scent and the heat of his body surrounded her, bringing back memories that haunted her dreams, that made her body ache with a longing she’d thought gone forever.
Long masculine fingers curved around her nape, his thumb brushing the sensitive flesh behind her ear. “There was a time when this drove you crazy. Does it still, I wonder?”
She shook her head, but not to deny it, simply to try to clear her mind enough to speak. To tell him to let her go, to move back. For heaven’s sake.
Only the words didn’t come. Couldn’t come.
Because no matter what her mind screamed she should say, she desperately wanted to beg him to do more, move closer, touch her … give her what she’d once had the right to every night.
Ariston’s head lowered. “I wonder,” he said again. “Will your lips taste as sweet as they did two years ago?”
She had no answer for him, but a reciprocating question spun round and round in her mind as his lips covered hers. Would he taste as good? Would he taste like love, even if he didn’t love her—like he’d used to?
Would this kiss hurt or heal?
Would it make it harder or easier for her to continue in her quest to move on? Cutting herself off from him without any sort of closure certainly hadn’t worked.
Only risking it would give the answer to that one, and something Chloe had never been was a coward. She let the kiss come.
It was not tentative, but sought to determine her susceptibility. She wondered what he found even as her mind warred with her heart over the wisdom of letting this melding of lips continue. He kissed her as if he had every right to do so, as if they were still married.
As if she was his.
It was strange and horribly wonderful and wholly unexpected.
And she let him, trying to determine if in that moment he still felt as if he was hers, and coming to the abrupt and almost awful revelation that he did.
His lips moved over hers, his tongue gliding along the seam of her mouth, gently demanding entrance.
Chloe’s mind screamed for her to protest this assault on her senses. It was too dangerous, she realized perhaps too late.
Finally her mouth opened to do it, but that only gave him the opportunity he wanted.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what she’d intended after all.
His tongue plundered, his lips moving against hers, and drew forth a response only this man had ever engendered. Desire like liquid fire pooled deep inside her and she moaned against his lips. He made a harsh sound of approval, deepening the kiss—if that was possible.
The one outcome to this meeting she’d never expected would be that Ariston would kiss her, or that his nearness and touch would reawaken the sexual hunger within her.
It was too much and not enough.
His free hand pressed against her back, so their bodies came into full, glorious contact. It electrified her.
And made her see a truth she’d hidden from.
For two years she’d craved this very thing, but with a gut-wrenching certainty that it would never again be hers. So she’d suppressed her desires to hold the pain of unrequited need at bay.
Now he was offering to assuage that need and her body was letting her know she’d gone too long without. After three years of a marriage that had included a steady diet of truly mind-blowing sex, she’d cut herself off completely.
And her carefully suppressed libido wasn’t happy.
Not even a little bit.
She was no slave to her body’s desires, or at least she didn’t think she was, but the reasons for not letting him do this were disappearing in the mist of lust boiling through her.
And in a moment of clarity she realized she wasn’t going to give this moment up. Not for the sake of propriety, or what it might cost her, or anything else. No matter how temporary, whatever came later, or however long this physical connection lasted, she was giving herself up to it for now.
She deserved it.
She might even need it, this chance to say goodbye that she hadn’t given herself the first time around.
She already knew the pain of loss and she was strong enough to withstand it again, but she deserved some pleasure for all her pain.
She wasn’t worried that this would make it harder to get over him, or undo the strides she’d made forward in doing so. Because one thing that had become painfully obvious from the moment she walked into his office and looked him in the eye for the first time since leaving Greece, she was not over this man and there were no strides forward.
There was just learning to live without. Which she had done and could do again, but not right now.
The aftermath would come soon enough.
For once, she was going to take something for herself before worrying about the interests of others. She could still ask Ariston what Rhea needed her to. And he would most likely say no, just as he would have before this amazing kiss, but that was for later.
Right now was for them, well, for her … but he certainly seemed every bit as into it as she was.
With that thought, Chloe let her body relax into his, feeling the evidence of his arousal pressing against her stomach. Oh, yes, he was most definitely enjoying himself, too.
He made a sound of triumph and lifted her, carrying her to the couch without ever once breaking the all-consuming kiss. He laid her down, but pulled away.
“No.” She reached for him; she knew he wanted it, too.
His eyes burned with a passion she’d become very familiar with during their short marriage. “I must lock the door. It would not do to shock Jean’s sensibilities.”
It was so like something he’d said once before when they’d made love … had sex … in this very office during their marriage. Chloe was overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu and couldn’t respond.
He didn’t wait for her to anyway, but moved quickly to the door. The sound of the lock clicking into place was loud in the cavernous office, silent but for their excited breaths.
He had already removed his tie and was working on his shirt buttons by the time he came back to her and Chloe’s breath stalled only to start again with a quick pant. “I’d forgotten how efficient you can be.”
“Did you really?” he asked, sounding like he didn’t believe it at all.
“Maybe not.” Honesty compelled her to admit, “You’re not very forgettable.”
“Nor, yineka mou, are you.”
He’d used to call her that all the time. It could mean “my woman,” or “my wife,” depending on the intent. Neither fit any longer, but she wasn’t going to argue about him getting possessive during sex.
She liked it too much. Besides, he’d told her she was hard to forget, too.
She didn’t mind hearing that at all.
He finished undressing without an ounce of false modesty, his eyes caressing her with a heated stare the whole time. He didn’t suggest she do likewise and she wasn’t surprised, or worried.
Apparently he still liked the idea of undressing her as much as he used to.
So she lay there, getting her own Greek tycoon striptease and enjoying every second of it. Even if it was done with moves more efficient than overtly sexual, her excitement escalated to near unbearable levels.
Her body vibrated with the need to have him inside her, her nipples ached to have his lips on them, her core convulsing involuntarily as if in memory of what it felt like to be joined.
She loved him. She’d never been able to stop. But right now? She just wanted him.
“You look very pleased with yourself.” He didn’t quite smile, but he didn’t seem to mind either.
She shrugged. “Pleased with what I see, more like. You keep your body in amazing shape, Ariston.”
He had changed in this one way. He’d been gorgeously muscular before, but now his body was hard all over and while he didn’t look like some kind of muscle bound Hulk, he clearly took his regime more seriously these days.
“I work out every day. Cardio in the morning, weights at night.”
“That’s pretty dedicated.” He’d used to only work out once a day, five days a week.
“It helps me sleep.”
“I don’t remember you needing much sleep.”
He didn’t answer, but dropped to his knees beside her, his hand reaching to caress her under her suit jacket. “Undressing you is like unwrapping a present.”
He’d used to say that too and she found herself suddenly too choked to answer. So she just smiled, the first one that came naturally to her since arriving in New York.
“Do you look the same under these layers?” he asked as his lips whispered down the side of her face to her neck.
“I’m a little thinner.”
He stopped moving, lifting his head to stare at her. “Surely you had no extra weight to lose.”
For the first time, trepidation filled her. She looked a bit more like a scarecrow than sexpot these days, not that she’d ever had a curvaceous figure.
He didn’t give her anxiety a chance to build. Showing he read her, at least in the bedroom, every bit as well as he’d ever done, he kissed away her worries as his hands began work on her blouse.
Words whispered against her skin that she could not quite make out as he took off her clothes, his fingertips leaving a heated trail of pleasure as he touched each newly revealed patch of skin.
By the time he had her completely naked, she was shivering with need. He’d very purposefully not touched her most erogenous zones, but had still managed to bring her to the point of begging.
Only biting firmly on her bottom lip was keeping the words inside.
He lifted his head to smile at her, his expression knowing. “You never were very patient the first time out of the box.”
“Since this may be our only time, maybe you should get a move on,” she gritted out, though in sexual frustration, not anger.
His expression turned intent. “You think so, do you?”
“You live in New York, when you’re even in the country. I live in Oregon. We’re not exactly well suited for casual hookups.”
“On that, at least, we agree.”
She didn’t get a chance to ask what he meant by that because he touched her breasts. Finally. And she nearly climaxed without him ever going near her clitoris.
But he remembered exactly what kind of touch to her nipples and breasts pleasured her the most and was intent on giving it to her. In abundance. He used his hands and mouth to bring her body taut like a bowstring and then one hand slipped between her legs.
Her mouth opened to scream and he kissed her, swallowing the sound as the ultimate pleasure crashed over her in a tsunami of bliss.
He pulled back, his fingers still touching her, but gently, causing small aftershocks to wrack her body. “It has been a while for you, I think.”
She might be blissed out. She might even still love him. But no way was she answering that implied question. “None of your business.”
“Your body does not lie.”
“Think what you like.” She looked away, knowing her expression would tell him the truth even if her mouth didn’t.
Then a very disturbing thought occurred to her. Was he using sex to disturb her equilibrium further in this business game only he seemed to know the rules to?
A gentle hand brushed her cheek. “Hey, stay with me, Chloe. We are far from finished.”
“No more questions about my private life.”
“Only one.”
She glared at him, sealing her lips.
“Are you in a relationship?”
“Surely whatever spies you have watching your business interests told you the answer to that.”
“I do not have investigators watching you.” By his tone, he considered he’d shown restraint and expected her to appreciate that fact.
She, on the other hand, couldn’t think of a reason he would have wanted to in the first place.
Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face because he said, “There is very little related to any of my business interests that I do not know.”
Okay, but again, why? She wasn’t one of his business interests any longer. Even though he still held a big chunk of shares in Dioletis Industries, she had nothing to do with the company and even less to do with him.
Their currently somewhat intimate circumstances aside.
“Arrogant much?” she asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
She used to find his arrogance charming. Maybe part of her still did, but really—what had she been thinking?
He merely smiled.
Well, Mr. Arrogance hadn’t known she was on birth control during their short-lived marriage. And technically, it had been just another business arrangement. So, he didn’t know everything now, did he?
Despite falling head over heels for the gorgeous jerk, the one thing she’d been adamant about was that she wasn’t trapping him or herself into marriage through a child. Not unless they both wanted to be there permanently, and obviously he hadn’t.
“Do you honestly think I’d be on this couch if I had someone waiting for me back in Oregon?” she asked, to get her mind back where it needed to be.
She wanted this, and even she wasn’t going to ruin it for herself.
“No, but I would appreciate hearing the words.” He almost sounded humble.
Which was enough of a shock for her to acquiesce that much. “I’m not in a relationship.”
“Good.”
“I assume you aren’t in one either?” Not that she thought for a minute they defined the word the same way.
They certainly hadn’t agreed on what it meant to be married.
“No.”
“Then we can continue without guilt.”
“Ne. We will continue.” That single slip into Greek to say yes indicated more than his body coiled tightly with sexual tension, or even his hard-on, that Ariston was not in absolute control.
And then the tension snapped and the whirlwind that was her tycoon lover for the afternoon swept over her with touches and kisses and bodies rocking together until she spread her legs, silently begging him to enter her.
He grabbed a condom from the pocket of his slacks and she tried very hard not to think why he might carry those around. “Help me put it on.”
She nodded, and with trembling hands, did exactly that. He groaned as her fingers rolled the condom down his generous length.
Stilling above her, he implored, “Don’t move. Not your hand, not your body. Nothing. Please.”
It was as out of control as she’d ever seen him and she did as he asked. His eyes shut, his head thrown back in repose, he took several deep breaths, letting each one out more slowly than the last.
When he looked down at her again, his azure eyes were dark with desire. “Now.”
“Yes.”
He pressed inside her and her body convulsed around him. Not in climax, but in absolute pleasure and relief at finally being connected to him in this way again. For her, it was a moment so profound, she could not speak.
He did not look as if he needed words, but seemed lost in his own passion, and for that she was grateful.
Even more so when that passion took them on another journey to fulfillment, this time her orgasm gripping her entire body in contractions so intense that though she opened her mouth to scream again, no sound came out.
He muffled his own shout of completion in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, kissing her over and over again between words like Yes, and So good, and Fantastic.
Afterward, they cleaned up in his office’s en suite, neither speaking, but the silence between them not really awkward at all.
It should have been.
She should be having all sorts of regrets, but she wasn’t. She’d wanted this and had enjoyed it far more than even she had thought possible.
She realized he wasn’t feeling quite so sanguine when he looked up from buttoning his shirt, his expression clearly chagrined. “I did not intend to jump you in my office like that.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Yes, well …” He seemed at a loss for words at her response.
“We’re both adults, Ariston. Whatever else was between us, the sex was always good.”
“Better than,” he agreed firmly.
She found herself grinning, really grinning, for the first time in a very long time. “Much better than.”
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
Without thinking, she reached out to straighten his tie. “Okay.”
They still had to talk about the company and his shares and what he planned to do with them.
“Good.” He stepped back, forcing her hands to drop away. “Jean can give you restaurant and time details. We can discuss whatever it is you came here to see me about then. We seem to have used up our time with other things.”
“I’ll stop by her desk on the way out.”
“I will see you then.” He left the bathroom and was back into full business mode, even taking a call when she followed him a few moments later.
She’d needed time to collect herself.
So the silence hadn’t been awkward, but she wasn’t giving him five stars on postorgasmic afterglow either.
He took a sip of what had to be cold coffee by now and grimaced. A small tendril of satisfaction unfurled in her. Ariston wasn’t picky about the temperature of his coffee, just the taste.
And right now he was suffering through her favorite. Whatever the reason for that, it made her feel just a little like she was getting her own back.