Greek Mavericks: At The Greek's Pleasure
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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.”
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE TIME the car pulled back up to Apollo’s house later that evening he was in a violent temper. Elle had done exactly as he had demanded and had danced with every businessman within fifteen years of her age. And she had charmed every single one of them. She had no doubt delighted the media.
She had done exactly as he’d asked, and he was incensed. Spending the evening not touching her had been akin to torture. But he was ready to move ahead with their agreement. He was ready to claim her. To remind her exactly why she was here, and who she was with.
They had not spoken in the car on the way back to his villa. She was vibrating with indignation next to him, but he didn’t care.
When they got out of the car and walked into the house he turned to her. “I want you to go to your room and open up the top drawer of the bureau there. You will find some other items that my staff has procured for you. Make yourself ready for me.”
He stormed off to his office then, pouring himself a glass of scotch and downing it in one desperate gulp, relishing the burn as it slid down his throat.
He paced the length of the room, trying to figure out exactly what happened to make him so agitated.
Jealousy.
He could not remember the last time he had ever felt jealous. If he ever had.
He closed his eyes, allowing an old memory to wash over him. Hell, the bikini. Yes, he had been jealous then in a strange way. Of the fact that she was young, with her entire life ahead of her. Of the fact that men had not yet discovered her, and he would not be a part of that discovery. He would have given everything to have been the first man to touch her. To have been the one to awaken her sensuality. Her every sigh, her every moan.
To have been the one who gave her that first climax.
Yes, he would have given anything to be that man at one time. He had been jealous then. Of a man who had not existed. And somehow tonight every man who had danced with her had become one of those nameless, faceless men who had come before him.
He hated them, even without knowing who they were.
He tossed his suit jacket onto the floor, stalking out of his office and going up the stairs toward her bedroom. She had better damn well be ready for him. Because he was not waiting another moment.
He threw open the bedroom door without knocking, and she turned to face him, still wearing the dress she had been wearing to the gala.
“I thought I gave you instructions to change,” he said.
Her green eyes glittered with anger. “Yes,” she said. “You did. But I have no desire to dress up like some strange interpretation of a fantasy that you have, brought about by your magnanimous staff.”
“Expensive underthings offend you?”
“The idea that I might not want to choose my own? The idea that I might be interchangeable with any of the other women you consort with? That offends me.”
“What do any of my other lovers have to do with this?”
“Everything. You are treating me exactly as you would any of them.”
He clenched his hands into fists, his heart beating so fast it burned. “And you want to be special? Is that it?”
Her cheeks flamed. “I don’t want to be the same. I don’t want to be just one warm body of any of the ones you could have.”
“Still you doubt my desire for you?” He undid another button on his shirt, then another, stripping it off as he walked toward her, feeling every inch a predatory animal. “What must I do to show you that I am your servant, agape? What must I do to show you that you own my body?”
The color heightened in her cheeks. “I own your body?”
“Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to be a slave to the desire I have for a St. James? If you think you hate me then just imagine how much I hate you. Your family. Your family name. Everything you stand for.”
His words were coming out hard and fast. He was saying more than he had intended. He had never intended to bring this up with her at all. Had not intended to speak any of this to her until he was giving her her marching orders and ordering her to pack her things and vacate her office. He had not intended to reveal any of this until he’d unleashed his ultimate betrayal on to her.
But he couldn’t stop it now. He could not stop himself. “If any woman at the party tonight had made me feel even a fraction of what I feel for you I would have taken her into the nearest hallway and pushed her skirt up. Sadly, I only respond to you. You have me on a leash, Elle. I hope you are happy with this revelation.”
Her eyes were round, her lips parted slightly. “I don’t understand. You were part of our family. How can you possibly feel that way?”
“Easily. You don’t understand what manner of man your father is, you don’t understand what manner of man I am. When you were seventeen years old, parading around the family estate in your bikini, I would have liked nothing more than to put you flat on your back. I was a man of twenty, and I would have had you, sweet little virgin that you were. And even knowing how wrong that is, I hate every man who came before me. I regret not taking you then. Such wasted years, Elle. I could have rid myself of my hunger for you then. But I didn’t. For what reason? To preserve some semblance of a conscience we both know I don’t have? Pointless. But then, I still harbored illusions that I might be good.”
“I... You wanted me then?”
“Did you not know? Of course not. You were blind. A little virgin.”
“Stop saying that. I wasn’t ignorant. It’s just that you seemed angry...not...”
“As it always is with us.”
“Either way, I’m not ignorant.”
“Did I have the wrong end of it then? Please don’t tell me you weren’t already experienced or I truly will hang myself for being so foolish that I didn’t have you.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
He didn’t know. He damn well had no clue. All he knew was that he was enraged. Over tonight. The other men who’d touched her. The orders she was refusing to obey. Over his behavior nine years ago. Over his behavior now. “Why are you refusing to wear the lingerie I provided for you?”
“Because I will not be one of your whores,” she said. “Because I was a virgin when you had me at your hotel room. Your jealousy is misplaced while mine is certainly not.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. “A virgin?”
“Apparently it matters to you. Apparently you are quite proprietary and possessive, though you have not earned the right to be.”
He growled, pulling her into his arms, grabbing hold of the sides of the delicate fabric of the dress and wrenching it down over her shoulders, tugging the bodice down low, revealing her breasts to his hungry gaze. “I am the only man to ever have you?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice breathless.
“This pleases me much more than it should,” he said, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting her face up to him. “All during the ride back to the villa I was contemplating the different ways I could kill each and every man who danced with you. In my mind, they had become your previous lovers. And I discovered that I felt rather violent about them. About the missed opportunity I’d had. You see, I wanted to be the one to teach you about pleasure.”
She bit her lip, as though she were holding back a litany of words. Either curses, or the confirmation that he had indeed been the one to teach her about pleasure. He had a feeling she neither wanted to yell at him at this moment nor give him anything pleasant to latch onto.
“I did teach you about pleasure, didn’t I? Against the wall in a hotel room. Dammit, Elle, you didn’t tell me.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
No. It made no difference at all. Not to anything. Not to what had gone before, and not to what he must do now. The fact that Elle had been a virgin changed nothing. She had been innocent of the wrongdoings of her father before he knew that, and she was innocent of them now. The fact he was her only lover might fill him with a sense of masculine pride, a sense of conquest, but it didn’t change the fact that he would betray her in the end. That he would make an example of her and use her to wound her father.
The way her father had wounded his father. The way he had devastated his mother. The way he had devastated Apollo himself.
Whatever sins his father had committed, the rest of them had been nothing more than collateral damage. And so would Elle be. It was not fair. But none of this was fair.
It wasn’t about fairness. It was about justice in the way that only he could obtain it.
“Yes,” he lied. “It would have made a difference. I would have been much gentler with you.” Except he knew he would not have. He would not take that fiery encounter in the hotel room back for anything. When Elle had unleashed all her rage on him. All of her desire. It had been the most singular experience of his life. He would trade it for nothing. It was a moment that belonged to him, one that could not be stolen no matter how low he sunk.
He was a villain, and now, he was embracing it fully.
He leaned in, kissing her, keeping it soft, keeping it light. She grabbed hold of his face, deepening the kiss.
He picked her up, carrying her to the bed and laying her down on the soft mattress, tugging the gown from her body. There would be no more talking tonight.
If he had his way, there would be no more talking until he was through with her. And if that meant spending the next two weeks in bed, then they would spend the next two weeks in bed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE PAST TWO weeks at Apollo’s villa had gone surprisingly smoothly. It was strange to coexist with him and not fight. It actually reminded Elle of a different time. A simpler time. Back when they had actually liked each other. When she had looked up to him. When he had—apparently—had some sort of attraction to her that he had buried.
Of course, maybe they had coexisted so peacefully because their lives had been essentially separate. Unless they were making love. Which had not been confined to evenings, or to bed. She was certain that at this point, Apollo had taken her on every surface in the entire villa.
She was not complaining. It had been... Well, it had been the culmination of her most heated fantasies. It was strange. Like she was living a life borrowed, one that she could not possibly have in the long term, but one that was in many ways preferable to the one she had been living. She was still seeing to her responsibilities. Sometimes working in his office, sometimes from the office in his home while he was out.
She couldn’t complain about the vacation. Of course, it was also difficult to justify the fact that she was sleeping with the enemy. Though, not literally, since they didn’t sleep together. They had sex, and then he left.
“It’s how I do things, agape,” she said, amusing herself with her poor imitation of Apollo’s voice as she paced the length of her bedroom.
A knock on her bedroom door startled her. She wondered if she had summoned him just by thinking about him. But he had just gone out to work a couple of hours ago, so she doubted he was back already.
She opened the door, to see one of his servants, Maria, standing there holding a package. “This is for you, miss,” she said.
“Oh,” she said, her whole body getting warm when she realized what it was. “Thank you.”
After Maria left, she closed the door and opened the package hurriedly. Inside was a hot pink bikini. She had been planning this for the past few days. Maybe it was juvenile. But she wanted a chance to recapture the moment that both of them had missed. One that seemed to linger in both their minds.
She didn’t waste any time getting into it, examining herself in the full-length mirror, watching as her cheeks flooded with color. She didn’t make a habit out of wearing things that were so revealing. Though, honestly, after spending so much time naked with Apollo, she shouldn’t feel self-conscious.
Still, she did.
That was different. That all happened during the heat of the moment. This was...premeditated. She had never staged anything quite like a seduction with him. And that’s what this was. But she was aching for something, searching for something more. She couldn’t deny that what she felt for him wasn’t hatred at this point. It would be so much easier if it was.
She felt... Well, she felt a lot.
She took a deep breath, opening her bedroom door and heading down the hall, down the stairs and outside to the pool. She was intent on being there when he got back. Intent on giving him the chance to make a different decision this time when he saw her in the bathing suit.
She slipped beneath the warm water, paddling over to the edge of the infinity pool, looking out over the view of the ocean. It was beautiful here. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so at peace in Apollo’s lair. Certainly not when she had first arrived.
She couldn’t say they were growing closer, not exactly. But...it was more than it had been. For one thing, they could be in each other’s presence for a full five minutes without screaming at each other. Sometimes they could go that long without tearing each other’s clothes off, too. But only sometimes.
The thought made her smile, she lifted her face up to the sky, bathing herself in the warmth of the sun.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I finished work early,” she said, turning, her heart slamming hard against her breastbone when she saw Apollo standing there, still dressed in the suit that he’d worn to work.
“Come here,” he said, his jaw set, his dark eyes intent on her.
Elle draped her arms over the back of the infinity pool, arching her back slightly, thrusting her breasts up out of the water. “I’m enjoying the water.”
“Elle,” he said, his tone warning. “Do not make me come in there and get you.”
“I think I would like for you to come in and get me. It’s what you should have done nine years ago.”
He smiled, a genuine smile. It wasn’t one that was tinged with cynicism, neither was it mocking or laden with barely contained rage. It made her heart turn over in her chest, made it expand.
He began to remove his suit, starting with his jacket, then his tie, then slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. There had been ample time over the past couple of weeks for her to become familiar with that gorgeous male physique, but familiarity hadn’t made him seem commonplace. Not in the least.
He arched a brow, slowly placing his hands on his belt buckle, working the leather through the loop. Her mouth went dry and she fought to keep herself from moving closer to him. She was going to hang back. She was going to force him to come to her.
He undid the closure on his slacks, pulled the zipper down slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. He pushed his pants down his narrow hips, exposing himself to her. He was everything. Absolute perfection. Everything she had wanted a man to be and then some. No, there was no chance of him ever becoming commonplace in her eyes.
Slowly, he made his way to the pool, climbing down, the water rising up and concealing his body from her.
“You took my show,” she said, just as he leaned forward, his sleek, athletic body slicing through the water effortlessly.
“I thought I would bring it to you,” he said, approaching her, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her up against him.
“Oh,” she said, “I guess I can appreciate that.”
“I think you can more than appreciate that,” he said, looking pointedly down at her breasts, at her tightened nipples, pushing up against the thin fabric of the bathing suit.
“I make it too easy for you,” she said, not sounding even remotely regretful.
“I’m not complaining,” he said, sliding his hand down her waist, resting his hand on her butt.
“Of course you’re not. You’re so certain of yourself, and all I have done is make you even more certain.”
“I was named after a god. I came into the world with a rather inflated view of myself.”
“Of course you did. How could I forget?” She lifted her hand, resting her palm on his chest. “I ordered this bathing suit for you.”
Heat illuminated the darkness in his eyes. “I thought you might have.”
“We have a chance to make a different decision.” She traced the water droplets that were trailing down his chest, rolling into the grooves of his muscles. “I wish that I had done something differently then. Been a little bit bolder.”
“You were young. You shouldn’t have done anything. I shouldn’t have done anything.”
“I was young, but I knew what I wanted. And it hasn’t changed.” She looked up at him. “I still want you. I wanted you all this time, even when I was angry at you.”
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, lifting her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Yes, I know you did. Believe me when I say the feeling is mutual.”
Those words, those husky, delicious words, sent a little shock of pleasure through her. It wasn’t strictly physical. It went deeper than that.
Unfortunately, all of this went much deeper than the physical. Much deeper than she wanted it to go.
“I do.”
A smile curved his wicked mouth. “Listen to us. We have managed to converse for several minutes without fighting.”
“A miracle.”
“Perhaps. Though, I imagine we are skirting the edge of sacrilege assigning anything divine to the nature of things between us.”
“Perhaps.”
He had a point. What they shared was carnal, lustful.
No, not only that. Beautiful. Altering.
Impossible.
He was her stepbrother, he was her enemy. Truly, it was the enemy part that made it most impossible. The stepbrother issue would hardly mean anything. They hadn’t been raised together. They shared no blood.
There’s no affection, either. Not from him.
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at him while she had thoughts like that. He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. And she just let it wash over her, warmer than the sun, more refreshing than the water they were standing in.
Desire assaulted her, her stomach tightening, a pulse beating low and hard at the apex of her thighs.
It had been just over a month since their first encounter in his hotel room in New York. Just over a month since she’d been with a man for the first time. It hadn’t taken long for her to grow accustomed to it. For her to know exactly what she wanted. For her to learn his body, and to learn what hers desired of him.
He slipped his hand beneath her bikini bottoms, taking hold of her with his large palm. She loved his hands. Loved the feel of them on every inch of her. Loved looking at them. Spent a great deal of time fantasizing about them.
But then, it was like that with every single inch of him.
So many things did not live up to the promise. Did not live up to the hype. Apollo was not one of them. He took her every fantasy and superseded by leaps and bounds. In comparison with the reality her fantasies of what sex with him would be like seemed childish. Simple.
She had known it would feel good, she had known she would find him attractive. She hadn’t realized it would be so raw, so exposing. Hadn’t realized it would strip her bare of everything, not just her clothes. She had thought it would just be physical.
That was such a simplistic thought. His body was the missing piece of hers. He was everything she ached for in the dead of night, the reason that she felt hollow sometimes. It was because she was desperate to have him inside of her. Only him.
She parted her lips for him, expecting him to conquer, expecting him to invade. Instead, he was gentle, his tongue sliding slowly against hers, the slick glide sending a sharp pang of need through her. So acute it was almost painful.
She forked her fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss, pressing her body as firmly against his as she could. She knew that if any of his staff members walked out now they would get a bit of a show. But honestly, her brain was too foggy with desire to really get a handle on that reality. She couldn’t care. Not for her modesty, not for anyone’s sensibilities. There was only this. Only him.