Читать книгу Greek Mavericks: At The Greek's Pleasure - Maisey Yates - Страница 14

CHAPTER FOUR

ELLE HAD OPTED to keep her mouth shut from the time she had slowly collected her clothing off the floor of the elevator. She stayed silent as Apollo’s driver took them to her apartment and all while she packed her bags, with Apollo looming in the corner of her apartment, until they made their trek to the airport and boarded his private jet.

She attempted to keep the awestruck expression off her face as she gazed around the aircraft. She knew that he was rich. She just hadn’t quite realized that he was private jet rich. She had been raised in very fortunate circumstances but, even so, her father didn’t own his own plane.

Well, he certainly wouldn’t now even if he had before. Because of Apollo. And it would do well for her to remember that.

The problem was she did remember. While they had made love or...whatever it was you called what the two of them had done, she was aware of who he was. How much he had done to destroy her family’s legacy.

Still she wanted him.

She felt... She felt completely and totally frazzled. Somehow, she had ended up kissing Apollo again. And the moment they touched, it didn’t stop there. It never stopped there. It couldn’t.

Apparently.

“Do you approve?” he asked, sinking into the plush leather chair next to one of the windows that looked out on the tarmac. “Or am I to take that expression to mean you are terrified of your surroundings? It’s very difficult to say.”

“I like the plane. I’m a little bit afraid of being alone at thirty thousand feet with you.”

“Afraid you’ll join the mile high club?”

Dammit, yes. “I think we can both agree that whatever has been going on between us is not a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea. Take your seat so that we can ready for takeoff.”

She looked around, elected to sit in the chair farthest from his. “For the record, I still hate you.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he said. “I think that was what you screamed in my ear only a few hours ago. Oh, no, I think what you actually screamed was ‘more’ and ‘harder.’”

“It isn’t like you weren’t complicit.”

“Complicit. Explicit.”

“What exactly is your goal here, Apollo?” she asked. She didn’t trust him. Not one bit. She was not in a position to refuse his command that she fly with him to Greece. Neither did she entirely trust his explanation.

“That depends,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his body all leashed power and tension. “Are you speaking of business—” his gaze raked over her body “—or pleasure?”

“I thought we both agreed that the pleasure angle is a poor one for the two of us to take.”

“It is. It’s a terrible idea, agape. We hate each other. As you have stated many times. Or, more to the point, you hate me. I have no such strong feelings about you.”

“No,” she said, her tone biting, “you don’t feel anything for me or my father. You simply destroyed us for your own pleasure.”

“Your father’s company was hemorrhaging money long before I came by to deal with it.”

“So why didn’t you help him?”

“That’s a complicated issue, Elle,” he said, his words hard.

“I don’t have any trouble understanding complexities. Go right ahead and explain.”

“There is more between your father and I than you know.”

“Enlighten me,” she said, the words escaping through clenched teeth.

“Not now. But understand what I’m doing is for a bigger purpose.”

“Your ego? Honestly, you’re unbelievable. He gave you everything. He loved you best from the beginning,” she said, voicing the words that she never had before. Words she had long believed. “And now you’ve betrayed him for money.”

“Love,” he spat. “What is love, Elle? Tell me that. Is it what your father feels for you? As he moves you around like a pawn, desperate to put you between me and his queen? Did he love me, or did he see me as another tool he could use? I don’t put any stock in love. It has never done anything for me, so I will hardly defer to it now.”

Her heart was pounding hard, her throat tight. And she knew what she wanted. She hated herself then, more than she had ever hated him. “What do you want from me?”

“In the short term? I intend to burn this thing out between us. A fire can’t keep on forever, can it?”

“Are you suggesting we sleep together while we are away from New York?”

“I’m doing something much stronger than suggesting.”

Rage turned to excitement, flickering at the center of her being and radiating outward. The idea of being with him again, of touching him again, made her hands shake. “I didn’t realize you got off on coercing women into your bed.”

“We both know I didn’t have to coerce you into it at all. Also,” he said, his tone pointed, “we have never made it to a bed.”

The thought of being in bed with him seemed...luxurious. The chance to explore his body at her leisure, rather than finding herself at the mercy of the explosion that occurred between them every time they touched. The force of it propelled her, made it impossible for her to think, impossible for her to resist. What would it be like to make the decision to have him? To give herself all night to indulge in that long-held desire for him.

She had always wanted him. And she had hated him for it. She’d been so angry that he was so...untouched. So utterly uninterested. So she’d pushed at him, tried to make him angry if she couldn’t make him want her. She’d taunted him. And finally, she’d decided to taunt him sexually.

She could remember very clearly choosing the smallest, brightest bikini she could possibly find—one that absolutely clashed with her red hair, but one she felt would get her the attention she desired—to try to catch Apollo’s eye when he came home to the family estate over break.

He had approached her as she’d gotten out of the pool and she’d felt... Naked. Alive. Afraid. So she’d defaulted to her usual position.

She could remember turning to him, her lips curled. They’ll let anyone into the estate, won’t they? How my family’s standards have fallen over the years.

His eyes had blazed then. With anger. And he’d grabbed hold of her arm. She hadn’t been afraid, though. She’d been...electrified.

He had held her there, looked at her hard, and for one moment, one desperate moment, she had imagined that she had seen lust in his eyes. That she had seen interest. But then, he had released her and turned away, leaving her there as though nothing at all had happened.

But now, somehow, for some reason, he wanted her, too. This is your chance. To put it behind you once and for all so that you can move on.

“All right,” she said, ignoring the thrill of excitement that shot through her. “I agree. We have to get back on proper footing so that we can deal with each other as business partners.”

“You are not my partner.”

“Whatever. Terminology aside I am agreeing to the idea of an affair. But it has to stay a secret. Can you imagine the scandal? Me. Dating my wicked stepbrother who stole my family legacy after he wormed his way into my father’s good graces.”

“Of course. I have no interest in parading my intimate association with you in front of the world. As I already said.”

His words, his tone, rankled. “I find it funny that you speak of it as though you find it distasteful. Of course I do. Everyone who moves in business circles fears you. I can see why I would want to disassociate from you. But not why you would wish to disassociate from me.”

He arched a brow. “I have a type, Elle. It is not buttoned-up redheads. As you know, gentlemen prefer blondes. Or, in my case, scoundrels prefer blondes, brunettes or redheads so long as they’re willing to part their thighs. I like women who know how to smile. Who know how to have fun. I do not like little harpies who claw at me even as they tear my clothes off.”

“You like it when I claw at you.”

Heat flared in his dark eyes and she took that as a win. “I consider this a unique circumstance.”

She wanted to ask him why he thought heat was exploding between them the way it was. She wanted to ask him if it was ever like this for him and the other women he had sex with. But that would betray her inexperience. And that was something she wasn’t willing to do. She wanted to protect her vulnerable places. Wanted to shield everything she didn’t know from him.

That was an old defense, and one that she employed daily. She hated asking for help. Hated appearing ignorant.

Her father was a hard man, and she had always had the impression that he was standing by waiting for her to disappoint him. So she never let him see when she was floundering. Never let him detect one bit of uncertainty in her. She had wrapped herself so tightly in her ironed-on exterior, so careful to never show a wrinkle. She had difficulty letting go of it under any circumstances.

And if she was determined to never let her father see her sweat that went even more for Apollo.

That meant she couldn’t ask the questions that were gnawing a hole inside of her. They would just have to go unanswered. It didn’t matter anyway. Nothing was going to come from her association with Apollo. Nothing except freedom from the bizarre hold he had over her—and her life.

She had spent far too long being preoccupied with him. She would just be glad to have it handled.

And if she was a little bit...giddy over the thought of some time to deal with the attraction...well, that was normal. People acted ridiculous when it came to sex. History was filled with examples. Wars were started over sexual desire. She could hardly expect herself to be above the kind of insanity that captured almost all of humanity.

She spent the rest of the plane ride musing about restraint and dozing on and off while Apollo continued to work. Every time she opened her eyes and looked at where he was sitting, he was maintaining the same position, his focus never broken from his laptop, or the spreadsheets in front of him.

It was strange, watching him from across the darkened cabin. He had changed so much in the past few years. The lines on his face becoming more pronounced, as though each year had left a mark behind, evidence of the living he’d done.

And as a teenager, he had never worn a suit. He had always kept his hair slightly longer back then, too. Now it was cropped ruthlessly short, as though he was trying to look like he had sprung out of the ground a very conservative billionaire.

She wanted to find that boy again. Strip off the layers and layers he’d put over the person he’d been. The one she had... Well, the one she had felt so many things for.

She let her eyes flutter closed again, and when she opened them, they had landed in Greece. Customs and passports and the like were handled in an efficient manner involving people coming to them and apologizing for any delays. After that, they were ushered into a limousine, all their bags packed quickly into the trunk as they departed straight from the plane to the highway.

Athens was an incredible sprawl she hadn’t accurately pictured in her mind. The rolling hills were capped with white, not from snow, but from the stone houses packed tightly together, flowing along with the landscape.

The downtown wasn’t anything like the glass-and-steel jungle of Manhattan. Ancient structures mixed with more modern buildings, the history and heritage of the nation evident in the intricate stonework, the massive pillars and marketplaces scattered throughout.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a villa just outside the city.”

“Of course you do,” she said. “But I thought we were going to your offices?”

“We will. At some point. But some adjustments have been made to accommodate some of our new goals.”

“Meaning what?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from the scenery to look at him.

“I don’t think it’s that difficult to guess.”

They drove out of the city, winding up the steep, packed hillsides. They escaped the sprawl, moving to an area where trees were more plentiful. Where houses were a little bit less common. Until they reached the top of a completely vacant hill that overlooked the sea. There, behind a secure set of wrought-iron gates was a white stone house that was even more imposing than the St. James family estate in upstate New York.

“Is this your primary residence now?”

He lifted his shoulder. “As much as any place, I suppose. It is my home, after all.”

“I do know that. You were born here. You left here when you were eight.”

His focus sharpened. “Have you been reading unauthorized biographies?”

“No,” she said. “I just paid attention when you used to speak around the dinner table. I used to know you, Apollo, as difficult as it is to remember back that far.”

An emotion she couldn’t put a name to flashed through his eyes. “I did not realize such memories were worth saving.”

“Know your enemy, and all of that.”

“I suppose so.”

The limousine pulled closer to the house, and the driver put the car into Park. Elle opened up her own door, stepping out and looking up at the house. To her, it looked like a lot of cubes of varying sizes stacked on top of each other, large windows on all sides looking out at the hills behind them, and the ocean before them.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re afforded very much privacy,” she said.

“Are you concerned that the village will see you naked? Because make no mistake, most of the time spent in this house will be spent without clothes.”

The dark, sensual promise should have frightened her, offended her. Instead, it excited her.

“The thought crossed my mind,” she said. No point in playing the prude now. Not when he knew full well she wasn’t.

“Never fear. I can tint the windows at the flick of a switch, and we won’t even have to sacrifice the view. But good to know you are on the same page as I am.”

“I have great concern for my modesty.” And her sanity.

“Well, I hope you don’t concern yourself much with it in my presence.” He walked ahead of her, moving to the front of the house. “Our things will be brought in momentarily. Come, let me show you around.”

She followed him inside, her heart hammering, her mouth suddenly dry. She didn’t know what might happen next. If he was going to strip her of her clothing immediately and press her up against a wall again. And if he did, what would she do? She would capitulate. She knew that from experience.

But he didn’t make a move to touch her. Instead, he paused in the expansive entryway. “I think this is self-explanatory,” he said, indicating the living area with the low-profile couch that was up against the wall, curving around to another. “Beyond that is the pool.” He walked ahead, up the open staircase that led to the second floor. She followed him. “My office,” he said. “The library, kitchen and dining area. I felt the second floor made for a slightly better view.” He continued straight up the stairs, to the third floor and she quickened her pace to keep up. “That way is my room,” he said, pointing down to the left. “And then here you will find yours.” The opposite direction from his. He began to walk to her room, and she followed, feeling a little bit like a lost puppy afraid of losing sight of her master.

He pushed the door open and revealed a light and airy space. Everything was white. The bedspread, the gauzy curtains that hung around the bed frame. There were no curtains on the windows, just as with the rest of the house. The square, unobstructed glass pane afforded a brilliant view of the jewel-bright sea, and let in the pale, sun-washed light.

“There are several settings for the windows. One is a blackout setting. That way the sun won’t disturb your sleep,” he explained.

She nodded. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said, looking around the room. “I thought we would be sharing a room.”

He chuckled. “I don’t sleep with my lovers, agape. I have sex with them. We don’t need to share a bedroom for that.”

Dammit. He managed to make her feel completely gauche and out of her depth even though she was doing her best to appear like all of this was commonplace for her. She’d been feeling like she was succeeding. Until this moment. She gritted her teeth. “Of course. How could I be so silly?”

“I imagine you typically date nice boys who like to spend the evening making love before they pull you close and cuddle you.”

His mocking tone burned her down deep. She was starting to feel at a disadvantage again. She would not allow it. “Do I seem like the type of woman who enjoys cuddling?” she asked, arching a brow. “You cannot possibly guess at the sort of man I typically associate with. You don’t even know me. Not even a little bit. You know what I’ve bothered to show you, and that’s all.”

“My mistake. If you will excuse me, I’m going to get ready for this evening. And I have a bit of work to catch up on.”

“You worked the entire time we were on the plane.”

“Impatient for me?”

She swallowed hard. She swallowed her honest answer, which was most definitely yes. “Just concerned you’re going to fall over at the age of twenty-nine from high blood pressure or something.”

“Your concern is touching. I will see you this evening for the charity gala.”

He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

She turned and looked out the window, gazing at the view. For some reason, this time, she had the feeling of being inside of a terrarium, but it didn’t feel quite so open. Once that thought entered her mind she felt as if she were some kind of creature he was keeping in a cage until he was ready to take her out and play with her.

Somehow, back in New York this had all felt equal, like they were in the same space, wanting the same things. But not now. Silly, because he owned her company. She should not have felt equal with him in the workplace. Should not have felt like they were on the same footing at all. And yet, for some reason—her pride, her intense dedication to her business persona—she had felt like they were.

But not here. In his house, in this show of his incredible wealth, she felt vulnerable. Powerless. She was in his home country, a place where she didn’t even speak the language, trapped in his house on the hill.

She wondered, for a moment, if this was what he had felt. Walking into her family home as a teenager, his mother engaged to a powerful man so far above her station. And he had been greeted by a stepsister so consumed with her own feelings, her own issues, that she’d been nothing but horrible. Had done nothing but try to make him feel completely unequal to the place.

She blinked, pushing back an unwanted wave of sympathy. That was in the past. What she’d done had been out of girlish fear of the strength of her feelings.

Apollo was not acting as a boy, reacting to fear. He wasn’t reacting at all. He was a man on the warpath, and God help her if she got in his way.