Читать книгу Greek Millionaire, Unruly Wife - Sun Chara - Страница 8

Julia collapsed onto the velvet chair and licked her lips, the cherry flavor of her lipstick spiking her taste-buds.

He shuttered his eyes, his jaw granite hard, and his grip on the tumbler tightened.

“Okay, I’m sitting,” she said, her tone defiant.

He remained silent and, swirling the liquid in his glass, kept her on tenterhooks. A delay maneuver? A control tactic?

Julia took the moment of reprieve to study him. A Ralph Lauren jacket framed his broad shoulders, the Trump original tie a contrast to the white shirt stretched across his chest. His chiseled features bespoke of his Greek ancestry, his skin tanned, his hands…strong, capable, tender…in the way he’d touched her, held her, stroked her…loved her. Anguish tore through her. She’d laid her head on his chest, the swirl of hair tickling her cheek, his heart thundering in her ear…but that had been a million years ago.

Before he—

A whimper built inside her, ready to burst from her mouth, but she couldn’t let him see he still affected her. Too dangerous for her mind, her emotions, her world. She must remain immune to his charm, his magnetism, and his potent sexuality. The whimper came out like a near snort, and he shot her a glacial look.

“I-I can’t stay,” she murmured.

“You’ll stay long enough.” He leaned back, hitched up a trouser leg and crossed one leg over the other.

Cool. Powerful. Wealthy.

She reached for the drink he’d ordered, took a sip and the fizz tickled her nose, the taste of lime fresh upon her tongue. Slowly she set it back on the table, controlling the temptation to hurl it in his face. But only just.

Impeccable in his suit, he exuded a debonair flair of the lifestyle of the wealthy and the beautiful. She’d been the opposite. Casual and ordinary in jeans, halter-top and sandals, her sunburned nose magnifying her freckles. Except when the fashion pros worked their magic, transforming her into a human mannequin, and every man’s fantasy.

“I deserve an answer, Michalis.” She foolishly imagined he’d been captivated by the real her, not the plastic copy, but obviously she’d been wrong. Plastic deteriorated. And so had their marriage.

Jitters sprang inside her, and she cupped the water glass with her hands, the condensation cooling her palms. If he so easily trampled on their marriage vows, he’d just as easily demolish her life again…for no other reason than daring to challenge him…daring to leave him…daring to keep a secret.

“You do deserve an answer,” he said, his tone cool, hard. “As I do.”

“What do you mean?” She bolted upright, letting go of the glass and gripping the arms of the chair.

“Hit a nerve, have I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” she fired back, but didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Perhaps this’ll refresh your memory, yineka mou.”

“Don’t call me that…I’m not your wife.” Not if he could betray her like he had, the image branded her brain cells.

“Technically, you are—” He leveled her with a look that rammed her ribs into her backbone, squashing her heart. “—until the divorce papers are signed.”

Her heart flipped, but then relief rushed through her. He didn’t know. He was here because of the divorce.

She squinted at him. “You could’ve done that from Greece.”

“What, and not see your beautiful face again?” he mocked. “You can have your divorce, Julia.”

“Di-ivorce.” The word grated her tongue like gravel. “Y-yes.”

“But there is a penalty.”

Her head snapped up, and she caught the stern set of his jaw, skin stretched taut across his cheekbones, the set of his mouth. His mouth had taught her such passion, created such erotic delight in her. His lips on hers, on her breast and gliding down her body, suckling her navel, and then lower to— Heaven.

Hell.

He knew.

She blinked, eclipsing the sensual images and crushing the memory beneath the gauntlet he tossed. Her freedom would come at a cost.

“I can’t imagine what it is,” she breathed out, sarcasm lacing her words, as the tremors inside her picked up momentum.

He laughed, a dry sound that sent chills up her spine.

A premonition…an astronomical price to pay.

“You can have your divorce, Julia.” His eyes glittered an ice storm, and he shot straight into her heart. “In exchange for my daughter.”

“No!” She leaped up so fast, the glass tipped over, liquid sloshing over the side onto the table. She couldn’t care less.

“I’ll see you in court then.”

Blackness undulated before her eyes, her pulse vaulted into her throat and the wool of her sweater itched her damp-sweat skin. She couldn’t beat Michalis Leonadis in a court of law … he had the money, the power, the connections. A bleat of sound from her mouth, and she gnashed it away, pulling on her inner strength that had gotten her through the last year. “I’ll see you in hell first.”

“That could be arranged,” he muttered, his words flint hard.

“Wh-hat do you mean?”

“How long did you think you could keep this from me?” he baited, fury in his midnight blue eyes.

The eyes of a hunter cornering his prey… her.

“You dare keep my child from me, Julia?”

“I-I was going to tell—”

“Enough,” he bit out. “Now sit down before you make a scene.”

She sank in the chair and clasped her hands in her lap to stop their trembling, her mind whirling. “I won’t let you take her away from me, Michalis.”

He arched an aristocratic brow. “How do you propose to stop me?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Poli kala…very well.” A cold smile. “You will return with me to Greece for one month.”

She shrank back in her chair, rejecting his words, but her heartbeat skipped and her body flamed with awareness. Shock—that must be it.

“Why?”

“Because I want to get to know my child,” he ground out. “And a three-month-old needs her mother.”

“Glad you recognize that fact.”

“And her father.”

As much as she resisted, Julia knew he was right, but couldn’t help bouncing back with, “Amy can get to know you when she’s older.”

“Amy,” he whispered, a flicker of tenderness in his eyes. “She’ll get to know me now.”

Her heart sank. “You can come and visit her here, Michalis.” She was clutching at straws.

“And have you disappear again?” He picked up his glass, tossed the last of his drink down his throat and slammed the glass on the table. “We have things to discuss…do.” His gaze traveled over her, pausing at her breasts which were rising and falling with the over exertion of her lungs, a notch lower to the apex of her thighs, then back up to her face, her eyes, her mouth.

“No, Michalis.”

“I will do what I please, when I please, how I please…with you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I-I can’t Michalis,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “Not after you—”

“After I what, Julia?” he challenged, his words fueling white-hot anger.

“You made it clear you don’t want me.” She gripped her purse so hard, her fingers hurt. “And now I don’t want you.”

A shadow flittered across his eyes, and a muscle assaulted his jaw.

“You’re a necessity for the child,” he said, his tone reasonable. “While there you’ll also entertain me.”

“You can’t have me,” she bounded to her feet, finding her voice.

“I figured you might say that.” He signed the bill for the drinks to his room and stood, his eyes an ocean tempest.

Of course he’d be staying here, she thought, the extravagant rates would not dent his bank account. He was welcome to his money. All she wanted was her daughter. A ferocity rose up inside her. She’d never abandon her child like she’d been abandoned. The memory was like a scar on her psyche. Then to have Michalis do the same to her was—

“My solicitor will be in touch,” he bit out.

She blanched, a quake building inside her. There was no way she could fight him in court, she couldn’t afford it.

“You’ll have your divorce, Julia and I’ll have my daughter.”

“No, please,” she gasped.

“Then you will agree to my terms.”

She nodded, a void inside her. “A-a month, Michalis and not a day longer.” Not an hour, minute, second. A huff of a breath, then a grit of sound, and she whacked him with her gaze. “I’ll make every day I’m there hell for you.”

He chuckled, but it sounded lifeless, exactly how she felt. She took a step past him.

“I’ll send a car for you tomorrow at 8 a.m.”

She kept walking, shutting him from her thoughts.

“One more thing, Julia.”

She spun around, and her skin frosted. He stood there, tall, dark, remote. And sexy.

A lethal adversary.

To her heart…her mind…her life…her future.

“Don’t even think of skipping town tonight.” A cruel line carved his mouth. “I’ve security and—”

“You’re despicable.”

“Is that all?” He shrugged, but a nerve bashed his cheek. A moment of deliberation, and he delivered the blow that felled her. “You might have to explain to your daughter why your selfish actions nixed her billion-dollar inheritance.”

“Have you no honor?”

“You dare speak to me of honor?” he snarled. “You, who slunk out behind my back?”

Every fiber in her body quivered, the quake about to erupt inside her, and she blinked the blur from her eyes, easing the pressure. “You’d really use our child as a bargaining chip?” she murmured.

A lock of hair flopped over his brow, his Adam’s apple bopped, and his breath blasted from his nostrils like a snorting bull. “It’s your move, Julia.”

Her heart palpitated. By sleight of hand, he managed to immobilize her. She flexed her hands, breathed in and exhaled. If she was going to gain her freedom and secure her daughter’s financial future, she had to make a pact with this callous stranger before her. She’d be selling herself to him, and something seemed to die inside her.

“I won’t let you jeopardize her future, Michalis,” she fired, her words an ice blizzard.

“Then you’ll be there tomorrow, ready to warm my bed.”