Читать книгу Greek Mavericks: At The Greek's Pleasure - Maisey Yates - Страница 15

CHAPTER FIVE

WHEN ELLE APPEARED at the top of the stairs that evening wearing the silk gown that he’d had sent up to the room earlier, Apollo wasn’t sure he had the strength to attend the gala. No, most of him wanted to grab hold of her and drag her straight into her bedroom and strip it off her.

The emerald green silk gown seemed almost demure in the front. It had a high neckline, the delicate, shiny fabric skimming her curves. It rippled when she walked down the stairs, flowing over her body like water.

But it was the back he couldn’t wait to see. He had selected the dress for that very reason. True to his word, he was intent on raising her profile in the company. All the better to make her family’s humiliation more apparent. If no one knew who the St. James family were, if they were only aware of the companies, while the family itself remained faceless, his disgrace of them would not carry the impact he required.

In a few weeks he would cut ties completely. He would let her drown along with her father and the rest of the St. James family.

It was cruel. But what David St. James had done to Apollo’s father, the way he had manipulated Apollo’s mother...

He forced himself to smile at her. To practice some form of charm. He did possess it, after all. Though he didn’t often exercise it when dealing with Elle. He could have any woman he wanted, and had, even before he had become the man he was now.

The girls he had associated with from nearby all-girls institutes back when he had been a teenager had found him fascinating. None of them had ever intended on taking him home to meet their parents. But a great many of them had taken him to nearby gazebos, backseats of cars and vacant dorm rooms. He might not be the kind of man they could proudly claim, but they had certainly found him attractive enough for certain uses.

Of course, Elle had already proven she had no issues using him for her physical satisfaction while she despised him on a personal level. So, he supposed that there was no point in attempting to be charming now.

All thoughts of charm or anything else were completely emptied from his mind when he saw the side of the gown as she reached the bottom of the stairs. He could think of nothing more than the possibility of stripping it from her body now.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice hard.

“Why?” she asked, turning to face him, her hands clasped in front of her, demure, as though she had no idea what she was doing to him.

“Turn around,” he said, deciding that he would forgo charm completely.

A flash of color spread up her neck, into her cheeks. Clearly, even if it made her angry, she quite enjoyed it when he gave orders. She turned slowly, teasing him by taking her time. And when she revealed her back fully, his stomach tightened, his blood pooling in his groin.

The back of the dress was a deep V ending just above the curve of her rear, exposing her entire back, the edges glittering with delicate beadwork. The seams over the silken material served to enhance the round shape of her backside, creating an even more dramatic shape to her curves.

He wanted to take her back upstairs, not just so he could have his way with her, but so he could keep any other man from laying eyes on what he thought of as his.

“It does not matter how many men have come before me,” he said, not realizing he was speaking the words out loud until they had already escaped his mouth. “You are mine now. You have always been mine, Elle.” The words were more raw, more real than he’d intended.

But then, this feeling was more raw, more real than anything that had ever come before it.

He saw attachments for what they were. Saw clearly how easily feelings could be manipulated. But what he felt for Elle was beyond him. It could never be distilled into one neat emotion. Could hardly ever be defined.

He needed it gone. Needed to burn it out. So that in the end he could walk away from the St. James family and never look back.

Walk away from her.

She turned to face him, her signature red ponytail swinging along with the movement. “That’s quite possessive,” she said.

“I’m kind of a bastard. You have agreed to be my mistress until such time as we have burned out the attraction between us. That means you are mine. And mine alone.”

“I hardly make a habit of overlapping lovers.”

He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. He wrapped his arm around her waist, planting his hand firmly at the center of her back and drawing her close to him. “I would not permit it.”

“You might own my company, Apollo,” she said, her voice low, sultry, “but you do not own me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, I think,” he said, sliding his hand up the center of her back, cupping the back of her head. “Because for now those two things are the same. I own both the company and you.”

“You’re a caveman.”

He wrapped his fingers around her ponytail, tugging hard. “Shall I drag you back to my lair?”

She gasped, the sound one of arousal, not fear.

“You can pretend to hate this thing between us all you want. You can pretend to hate my commands. But we both know that no matter how shocked and appalled you pretend to be, you want this. You want me.”

She leaned in slightly, and he kept his hold tight on her hair. Then she pressed her lips gently against his before biting him hard. “I might want you,” she said, “but it is not the way a woman should want a man.”

“Take your hair down.”

“I refuse to give in to your every command.”

He shifted his hold on her, grabbing the bobby pin that was buried in the ponytail that wrapped one coppery strand around the rubber band that secured her hair, concealing it from view. Then he grabbed the rubber band itself, pulling it free.

Her red hair fell past her shoulders in soft waves, extra full because of the way it had been restrained.

She frowned, her brows locked together. “I can’t go like this. My hair is a mess.”

“It is perfect.”

“I do not have to wear my hair to please you.”

“Your hair pleases me however it is fixed,” he said. “But this way, this way, all I can think about is burying my fingers in it. Pulling you toward me. Kissing you deeply. With it like this, I want nothing more than to take you straight back upstairs and make you scream my name. And so, I leave the final decision on how you wear it up to you.”

She tilted her chin upward. “Well, it’s already down.”

He chuckled, the soundboard of satisfaction. “I thought you might come to that conclusion.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I prefer you without a tie.”

“It is a formal event.”

“Without the black tie, with the first button on your shirt undone, so that I can just see your chest hair, all I can think of is you tearing the shirt open the rest of the way so that I can put my hands on your hard muscles. So that I can feel your heartbeat raging against my palms. I can think of nothing but leaning in, running my tongue over your skin. And so,” she said, arching her brow before turning away from him. “It is up to you.”

Apollo smiled and began to loosen his tie.

* * *

No matter that they were pretending to be merely business associates at the gala, Elle could not help but think the two of them looked like they had been engaged in sexual intimacy in the car on the way. Her hair was down, looking very much like he had already run his fingers through it. His shirt was undone, his tie long discarded.

And yet, they had not had the benefit of engaging in any kind of intimate activity.

When they had gotten in the limousine she had scooted as far away from him as possible, telling him she needed space, time to collect her thoughts. She did. She was exhausted, jet-lagged, and the nap she’d had earlier had only helped a little bit. Beyond that, she was still raw from their last encounter. And if they were supposed to appear in public together in a platonic fashion, she did not want the feeling of his touch lingering quite so strongly in the forefront of her mind.

Now though, she was regretting it. Now she sort of wished she had climbed onto his lap in the car and satisfied her desire for him. Anything to take the edge off the extreme arousal that was pounding through her even now.

The gala itself was beautifully appointed, held in one of the oldest and most sophisticated hotels in Athens. When she arrived, she was surprised to see that Apollo’s name was on everything.

“You didn’t tell me that it was your charity gala we were attending.”

He shrugged his shoulder, taking a glass of Champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. “It did not seem important.”

“I think it is rather important. I wasn’t aware that you had founded the charity.”

“It’s very boring. Press junket stuff. The kind of thing that one says to improve their reputation with the media. It’s a game I scarcely have the patience to play at the best of times. I did not see the point in trying to convince you that I was somehow a paragon of virtue simply because I donate money to impoverished families.”

“You do?” In spite of everything she knew about him, in spite of her feelings about him, she could feel herself softening.

“Yes. Do not look at me like that. I am a businessman. Believe me when I tell you this benefits me in financial ways.”

“Why are you so resistant to being seen as good in any fashion?”

“I do not like to raise people’s expectations.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“Because they will find themselves disappointed.”

She looked around, taking in the beautifully appointed marble interior of the hotel, the impressive pillars, the glittering chandeliers. Couples dressed in the finest couture were already making their way out to the dance floor. She wished she could dance with Apollo. That he would take her into his strong arms and pull her up against his chest, hold her...just to hold her. So that she could relish his strength, his heat, if only for a moment.

She shook her head. That was extreme foolishness. She wanted nothing more from Apollo than for him to leave her alone and allow her to run their business as she saw fit. Well, that and sex for the sake of sex, until they had burned out the attraction between them.

She did not want him to hold her. She did not want to press her head up against his chest and listen to the sound of his heart. Did not want to spend an hour kissing him, just kissing him. No, she didn’t want any of those things.

“I shall introduce you to some of my associates,” Apollo said. “And to some of the members of the press who are in attendance.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” she said, keeping her tone light.

He pressed his hand lightly on her back, guiding her toward a group of people who were standing there conversing. He made introductions, and dropped his hand quickly back to his side, bringing a great deal of distance between the two of them as he shifted his position within the group.

One of the men was a businessman from Italy, another a Greek, who had his business in the United States. They started to make conversation about staying relevant in the age of the internet and online superstores, and she was so lost in the discussion that it took her a while to notice that Apollo was no longer standing next to her. She frowned, searching the crowd quickly. And then she spotted him, out on the dance floor with a blonde woman wearing a dress with a hem that fell just beneath her butt cheeks. Rather nice butt cheeks too, Elle was loath to admit.

She fought to keep the scowl off her face. She knew that they were supposed to be playing the part of business associates but she felt this was taking it a bit far.

“I see Mr. Savas has abandoned you,” the Greek man, Nikos Vardalos, said.

“Not at all,” she said, taking a deep breath. “We are not here together. Mr. Savas is able to dance with whoever he chooses.”

“Then I suppose you are free to dance with whoever you choose?”

She could always tell him she had a boyfriend. She often did that when confronted with men she wasn’t attracted to in these kinds of situations. But Nikos was handsome enough, and Apollo was dancing with someone else. Really, it seemed rather silly for her to stay hidden away in a corner.

“Absolutely,” she said. “I am always free to do whatever I want.”

He laughed, treating her to a smile that she had no doubt often made women go weak in the knees. Sadly, not her. Not now.

But she pretended. She offered a smile in return.

“I like a woman who knows her mind. And does your mind tell you that you might want to dance with me?”

“I would be delighted.”

He extended his hand, and she accepted it, wrapping her fingers around his. His touch was warm, but it did not light her on fire, not the way that Apollo’s did. It was sort of comforting, to have a man touch her like this, and for her to feel so very little.

Every interaction with Apollo, every brush of his skin against hers, was so layered. Was so hot, so intense, she couldn’t ignore it, or pretend it hadn’t burned. It was never simple. It was always hate spread over lust, spread over a strange attachment that stemmed from all of the years they had known each other. And betrayal. The betrayal that was unique to what she felt for him because of how well they had known each other. Because of how she had felt about him for so long.

Because of the way she had trusted him.

And you betray your father by sleeping with this man. By wanting him.

Still, she couldn’t help herself. Still, she could feel nothing as Nikos pulled her into his arms and swept her onto the dance floor. Still, she felt more when she looked across the crowded room and locked eyes with Apollo, who was glaring at her and her dance partner with dark rage.

Fine. He was welcome to be murderous. She didn’t particularly care. They were here separately. He was dancing with another woman, and she would be damned if she would play the part of wallflower.

She shifted her hands lightly on her partner’s shoulder, tightening her grip on his hand.

“I think Savas wants to kill me,” Nikos said, his tone tinged with amusement.

“Oh, I don’t suppose he wants to kill you,” she said, her tone dry. “Anyway, he and I are associates, as I said before. And neither of us believes in mixing business with pleasure.”

“Excellent. Then I shall never do business with you.”

She laughed. “Well, that would be a shame. Since you are in retail, I would very much like to do business with you.”

“Perhaps it is crass of me to discuss this during a dance,” he said, “but tell me more.”

They spent the next two songs largely ignoring the music and discussing the various ways in which they could marry their two brands. She decided that she liked Nikos quite a bit even if he did not make her heart beat faster.

She only wished that he could.

He was Greek, he was wealthy, he had a hint of a gorgeous accent. Truly, if she had a type, this was it. If any other man was going to start a fire in her loins quite the way that Apollo did, this man would. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was an extreme disappointment.

Still, though she had not found a way to encourage desire toward another man, she had come away with a very promising business contact. They parted at the end of the song, and he did not try to make any sort of romantic overture. He must’ve sensed the lack of chemistry as profoundly as she did.

She was making her way toward a waiter to get herself a drink when she was all but accosted by Apollo. “Having fun?”

“It’s a charming party,” she said.

“Yes. I told you already that you would be with me and me alone while we work out the attraction between us, did I not?”

“I’m sorry, I was not aware that a waltz was on par with intercourse.”

“You are playing with fire,” he said.

“Then you are, too. Don’t think I didn’t notice your lovely blonde partner.”

“It is expected of me.”

“And you want my face in the paper. Therefore, I had better do something newsworthy. You put me in this dress that leaves me essentially naked, and now you’re going to act as though my getting attention is not somehow essential to your plan?”

“All you have to do is simply walk into a room to gain attention, agape. Trust me on this.”

“I find your assessment flattering, if slightly ambitious.”

“I don’t care whether or not you find it ambitious. It is the truth.” He looked around them. “Even if you have not noticed, I have. Every male eye—and many of the female eyes—have been on you from the moment you walked in. You are absolutely the one to watch here.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. And when you make a large charitable donation in the name of the company, you will become even more of a conversation piece.”

Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. “I did not know you were going to make use of my money.”

“Of course I am. Anyway, it is a good cause, on that you can trust me. As I said, I provide housing and other necessities for families who have fallen below the poverty line. Surely you can find no fault with that.”

“I suppose not.”

“You sound so distressed. It must be terrible when I don’t rise to the part of blackguard when it suits you.”

“Sincerely awful. I can see why you prefer to pretend you’re terrible. For consistency.”

“I am nothing if not consistent.”

She laughed. “If only that were true.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. You are not consistent, I don’t care how you frame it, I don’t care what you say. You were a friend of my family, and then you betrayed us. There is nothing consistent about that.”

His expression turned dark, fierce. He leaned in and her breath caught in her throat. She thought, for a moment, that he might kiss her. She hoped that he would. He did not. “From the moment I understood there was better than the circumstances I existed in I was determined to find better. When I went to a private school, knowing full well that I didn’t belong there, I was determined to rise to the top of the class so that no one could question whether or not I had the ability to succeed in the realms of society into which I had been thrust. I have done nothing but hold myself up from the bottom with my brute strength from the moment I understood it could be done. If that’s not consistency, I don’t know what is.”

“Yes, I know you pulled yourself up quite a bit. But it’s quite convenient to forget that my father’s money provided a ladder to help you out.” She turned away from him and he grabbed hold of her arm, holding on tightly to her and pulling her back to him.

“I was willing to advance myself using any means necessary. Again, I claim consistency.” He released his hold on her, straightening the cuffs on his shirt. “Go off and have fun. We will meet again at the end of the night. Do not forget to make your donation.”

“Of course not.”

“I imagine Luka would like to dance, as well.”

“Are you off to find him?” she asked.

“No, but I suggest you should.”

“Now you’re encouraging me to dance with other men? There’s that legendary consistency.”

“No, I believe you’re right. You should do what you can to get your photograph in the news. And I shall do what I have to to get attention of my own. I will see you at the end of the evening.”