A Reputation For RevengeThe Greek Billionaire's Baby Revenge

by Jennie Lucas

  “Get away from her, Sinistyn,” Nikos said.

  “Stavrakis.” Narrowing his eyes, Victor wrapped his arm around Anna’s waist, pulling her back so hard he almost yanked her off her feet. “You’ve got some nerve to come into my club and start throwing orders. Get out before I throw you out.”

  “You? You’ll throw me out? Or do you mean one of your goons will do it for you?” Nikos drawled lazily, in a tone that belied the threat in his posture. “We both know you wouldn’t have the guts to do it yourself.”

  Victor smiled at him, showing sharp teeth. He looked over the dance floor. Anna noticed his bodyguards hovering close by. Apparently, this gave Victor courage. “I don’t see Cooper with you tonight. It was a mistake to leave your guard dogs at home, you Greek—”

  Anna physically came between them, pushing them apart. She felt sick. She’d thought Nikos would wait for his bodyguards, giving her at least thirty minutes to privately conclude her business with Victor. Having him come so quickly, and alone, had shot her plan apart.

  “Please, let me go,” she said to Victor. “I need to talk to Nikos anyway. I—I’ll talk to you more later.”

  For a moment Victor looked as if he were going to pummel the smirk off Nikos’s face anyway. Then he shrugged and said shortly, “As you wish, loobemaya. Go. Until later.”

  He walked off the dance floor. Nikos looked as if he meant to deliver some rejoinder, but Anna grabbed his hands, forced his attention back to her. “What are you doing here?”

  Nikos’s anger came back to focus on her. “The question, madam, is what are you doing here? Dancing with him? Dressed like that?”

  “I can dress as I please—”

  He interrupted her. “You will never see Victor Sinistyn again, do you understand?”

  “No, I don’t. You’re not my husband. You’re nothing—”

  With a growl, he dragged her off the floor, through the crowds and out of the club. She struggled, unable to escape his iron grip.

  Outside, the cooling desert air felt fresh against her overheated skin. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her fears as he retrieved his motorcycle from the valet.

  This was going to work. It had to work. She’d use the threat of Victor to force Nikos to give her joint custody of her son. And set her free.

  Tossing a tip to the valet, Nikos threw a muscular leg over the motorcycle’s seat. For a moment Anna’s gaze lingered on his body, on the way his snug black T-shirt accentuated the muscles of his chest and his flat belly, on the tight curve of his backside in the dark designer jeans.

  “Get on,” he ordered, his eyes like ice.

  Carefully, Anna climbed up behind him on the motorcycle. She gave a little squeak as he revved the engine and roared down the street without a word of warning.

  She held him close, her body pressed against his back. Her tight suede halter top thrust her breasts upward, and they felt exquisitely sensitive, the nipples hardening as they brushed against the muscles of his back. She tightened her grip on his waist, her dark hair flying in the wind.

  “You’ll never go to that club again,” he said in a low voice, barely audible over the roar of the engine.

  “I’ll do as I please.”

  “Promise me right now, or I swear to God I’ll turn around and burn the place to the ground.”

  She felt his body tense beneath her grip as he waited. His deliciously hard body felt so good beneath her hands. It was enough to make her lose all rational thought.

  Perhaps she could give in to this one request, she thought. She didn’t want to go back to the stupid club again, anyway. She had no intention of letting Victor paw at her more on the dance floor.

  Next time she’d meet him somewhere else. Like a library.

  “All right,” she said. “I promise.”

  She felt his body relax slightly. “Good.”

  A few moments later he pulled the motorcycle beneath the brilliant marquee of L’Hermitage Casino Resort.

  Like the Parisian and Venetian hotels down the street, L’Hermitage’s architecture was an imposing fantasy. Much of the design had been based upon the stately nineteenth-century palaces of St. Petersburg, but the centerpiece of the building was a reproduction of St. Basil’s Cathedral in Red Square, with its distinctive onion-shaped domes.

  Tossing his keys to the valet, he took her by the hand—more gently this time—and led her through the front door for her first inside look at the finished project that had consumed them both for nearly four years.

  She gazed upward at the high ceiling as he led her through the main floor of the casino. The architecture had triangular shaped Russian arches over doors, watched over by painted angels. Soaring above the slot machines and roulette tables, a simulated horizon held the breathless hush of a starlit sky on a cold winter night.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her then, an open, boyish smile, and it nearly took her breath away. “Wait until you see the rest.”

  On the other side of the main casino floor they entered the Moskva Shopping Complex, which was built like several outdoor streets within the casino. The storefronts and streetlights, the ambient light and even the sounds of birds far overhead, made Anna feel as if she was walking through a fairytale Russian city.

  “It’s just like I dreamed.” She looked at the expensive shops, Gucci and Prada and Tiffany, and her fingers tightened around his. “You made our dream a reality.”

  He stared at her, then slowly shook his head. “We did it together, Anna. I couldn’t have created L’Hermitage without you.”

  She blinked as tears filled her eyes. He appreciated all the work she’d done, the heart she’d poured into her work.

  He looked her full in the face. “I’ve missed you.”

  Anna felt her heart stop right in the middle of the ebb and flow of the busy street. The chic people hurrying into the stores seemed to blur around her. Could it be true? Just by seeing her with Victor, could Nikos have realized he missed her? Needed her?

  Loved her?

  Her heart gave a strange thump. Words trembled on her lips. Horrible words she couldn’t possibly say, because they couldn’t possibly be true. Could they?

  “You…you’ve missed me?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “No other secretary has ever been your equal.”

  “Oh.” The thump moved from her heart to her throat. She turned to face the large building behind her.

  “Matryoshka,” she murmured, over the miserable lump in her throat. She stared up at the restaurant’s imposing domes of unpainted wood, like a miniature cathedral tucked inside the fairytale street. She had to change the subject before he realized what she’d been thinking. Before she despised herself more for being foolish enough to think he actually cared for her.

  “Wait until you see the inside,” he said, taking her hand. “You’ll think you’re inside the Terem Palace.”

  A slender, well-dressed maître d’ stood at a podium just inside the restaurant.

  “We’d like the table by the window,” Nikos said.

  The maître d’ didn’t bother looking up from his reservation page. “That particular table is booked for four months,” he said, sounding bored. “And we have nothing available for tonight—not a thing—not even if you were the King of—”

  Mid-sneer, the man glanced up. He saw Nikos, and his jaw went slack. He suddenly began to cough.

  “One moment, sir,” he said breathlessly. “We’ll get your table ready, for you and for your lovely lady, straight away.”

  Two minutes later the maître d’, now fawning and polite, had left them at the best table in the restaurant. A little awed in spite of herself, Anna looked around.

  The interior of Matryoshka had been designed in seventeenth-century Muscovite style, with intimate low ceilings made of stucco and covered with frescoes of interweaving flowers and the nesting dolls that inspired the restaurant’s name. Elaborate tiled ovens and kokoshnik-shaped arch
es were lit by flickering candles on the tables and torches on the walls.

  As a waiter came to tell them about the specials, Nikos cut him off. “We’ll both have the salmon with caviar and champagne sauce,” he said, closing his menu. “And Scotch—neat.”

  “Wait.” Anna stopped the waiter with a hand on his arm. “I would like Chicken Kiev, please. And kulich for dessert,” she added, referring to the Easter fruitcake. “And sparkling water to drink.” She closed her menu, matching Nikos glare for glare. “Not Scotch.”

  Caught in the crossfire, the waiter glanced nervously at Nikos, who nodded.

  After the young man was gone, Nikos bit out, “I didn’t mean the Scotch for you. I know you’re nursing.”

  “Even if I weren’t nursing I wouldn’t want it. Or caviar, either. Ugh.”

  He gave her a humorless smile. “A Russian who dislikes caviar? Next you’ll be telling me you have no taste for vodka.”

  “I don’t appreciate you trying to order for me. I’m not a child.”

  “I was treating you like a lady,” he said coolly, leaning back in his chair.

  “Oh? And is that how you justify telling me who my friends can be?”

  “Sinistyn’s not your friend,” Nikos bit out. “He’ll use you and toss you aside.”

  She gave him an angry glare. “And you want to be the only one who does that to me?”

  As the waiter placed their drinks on the table, Nikos looked affronted, furious. “You cannot even compare—”

  “Save it. I’ve known Victor since I was eighteen. Our fathers were friends—although they chose to make their living in very different ways. I was Victor’s secretary for five years. I know him better than you do.”

  Unfortunately she understood him well enough to know that everything Nikos said about him was true. But she wasn’t going to say that.

  Nikos’s hands clenched on the table. “Just how well do you know him?”

  Anna tilted her head and watched him narrowly. “He’s asked me to marry him several times.”

  He glanced at the stained-glass window. The expression on his face was half hidden, but his jaw was hard. “What?”

  “I’ve always said no, but that might change. I won’t be your pawn, Nikos. I won’t take your punishment forever. I won’t allow you to threaten me with losing my child. And if what it takes to match you is to marry Victor…”

  She let her voice trail off.

  Nikos blinked, very slowly. When he opened his eyes, for the first time since he’d dragged her back to Las Vegas, they were wary. He was looking at her not as a victim to punish but as a challenging adversary. “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want. My freedom.”

  “I won’t let you take Michael from me. Ever. Get that.”

  “Then you can expect a very prolonged custody battle. If Victor and I take you to court, it’ll be splashed in the papers. A full media circus.”

  “Is that really what you want?” he said in disbelief. “The two of us pulling at our child like a rope in a tug-of-war?”

  “Of course not!” She had no intention of starting a romance with Victor, let alone making him Misha’s stepfather, but she was praying Nikos wouldn’t call her bluff. “I don’t want to ask Victor for help, but what choice have you given me?”

  The torches around them flickered in silence for several seconds before Nikos tossed his napkin down on the table. “Fine. You win.”

  Nikos abruptly rose from the chair. Anna watched in amazement as he strode across the restaurant and out the door.

  She’d won?

  He was going to give her joint custody? He was going to let her leave Las Vegas? Let her have her own life back?

  She could hardly believe it. In a few days she’d be back in New York, looking for a new job. She knew she wouldn’t find anything as invigorating as working at Stavrakis, but at least she’d be able to take pride in supporting herself and her son. Nikos would insist on child support, of course, but she’d put that money into a trust fund for Misha later. That way it would be clear to everyone, including herself, that Nikos had no hold on her. She’d never give him power over her again.

  And to make sure of that she wanted some space between them. The whole country would be a nice start.

  Their dinners were served, and she took a bite of her Chicken Kiev. Delicious. She stared into the flickering flame of the torch on the wall. It had almost been too easy. She was actually disappointed Nikos had capitulated so quickly. After the way he’d treated her, her blood had been up for a fight.

  “Enjoying your meal?” the waiter asked, refilling her water glass with a smile. “You look happy.”

  “I am.”

  “Because you’re in love? I am too,” the young man added, and before she could dispute his assumption he leaned forward to joyfully whisper, “I’m proposing to my girlfriend tonight.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “But what’s this?” He peered at Nikos’s untouched plate. “Mr. Stavrakis didn’t like his salmon?”

  “He, um, got called away.” Anna handed the waiter her own empty plate, which she’d all but licked clean. If it weren’t for the caviar spread over the salmon, she’d have eaten Nikos’s dinner, too.

  “In that case, I’ll bring your dessert. An extra big slice,” he promised, then winked at her. “Everyone should celebrate tonight.”

  She definitely felt like celebrating. But as she dug into the fruitcake a few moments later she noticed her breasts were starting to hurt. Back at the estate, Misha would be getting hungry. She needed to return to the dance club, retrieve the Maserati and get back.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, miss?” the waiter asked.

  “Um…the bill?”

  “Mr. Stavrakis always takes care of his guests. I’d lose my job if I brought you a bill. Sorry. Standing orders.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. Matryoshka was very expensive. As it had been Nikos’s choice to bring her here, and he’d ditched her in the middle of the meal, her conscience would allow him to pay. Heck, his accountants would probably get a tax advantage out of it.

  But just as she was about to leave Nikos sat down heavily in the chair across from her.

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted out, chagrined. Could he have already gotten a lawyer to draw up the custody papers?

  He frowned at the empty table. “Where is my dinner?”

  “Long gone. My Chicken Kiev was delicious, though.” She shook her head wryly. “Thanks for ditching me. I had a nice conversation with the waiter. He’s in love. He’s going to propose,” she said airily.

  “To you?” Nikos said sharply.

  Anna snorted a derisive laugh. “Yes. To me. I have that kind of power over men.”

  He took a small sip of Scotch. Casually, almost dismissively, he tossed a small box on the table, pale blue as a robin’s egg. “Here.”

  Frowning, she opened it.

  Inside the box, nestled on black velvet, she saw a huge diamond ring set in platinum. The facets of the enormous stone, which had to be at least ten carats, sparkled up at her in the candlelight. It took her breath away.

  She twisted her great-grandmother’s stoneless ring around her finger nervously. Nikos’s diamond was so big it wouldn’t have even fit inside the Princess’s empty setting. The diamond was bigger than a marble. Excessive to the point of tackiness. And yet…

  She swallowed, looking up at him. “What is this? Some kind of trick?”

  “No trick,” he said. “We will be married tonight.”

  The rush that went through her then was like nothing she’d ever felt. Nikos wanted to marry her. Just as she’d dreamed for so long. Even when she’d known it was impossible—even when, as his secretary, she’d watched him go from one sexual conquest to another, she’d had secret dreams that she might someday be the woman to tame him.

  “Put it on,” Nikos said.

  But it wasn’t the earnest pleading of a lover—it
was an order. Utterly cold and without emotion.

  And just like that the pleasure in her heart evaporated.

  Nikos didn’t want to marry her.

  He wanted to own her.

  This was his way of dealing with the threat of Victor. Rather than calling for his lawyer, rather than negotiating for joint custody of Misha, he figured it was easier to just buy her off with a ring. He thought Anna could be purchased for the price of a two-hundred-thousand dollar trinket and some meaningless words.

  “What do you take me for?” she said in a low voice.

  “As my wife. To have—” his eyes raked over her “—and to hold.”

  She swallowed. His dark eyes were undressing her, right there in the restaurant. As if he were considering the very real possibility of pulling her to him, ripping off her clothes, and making love to her on there on the table, with the entire restaurant watching.

  He still intended to coldly seduce her. He still meant to take his pound of flesh for what she’d done. And if he were her husband, his power over her would increase tenfold.

  Just give in, her thought whispered. Give in to her desire. Give in to his power. Then he couldn’t send her away from Misha ever again. She would be his wife. She would be above Lindsey and the other women like her—she would be Mrs. Stavrakis. And though Nikos hated her now, perhaps someday…

  No. She had to get a hold of herself. Even if someday Nikos forgave her, she would never, ever forgive him. He didn’t love her. And it was worse than that. He didn’t even trust her enough to work or to make any decisions about her own life.

  He said he wanted to protect her, but he really wanted to lock her away, like a parakeet in a tiny gold cage.

  Could she put aside every ounce of pride and self-preservation and marry a man who hated her? Allow herself to be bound to him forever?

  “No,” she whispered.

  His dark eyebrows pushed together like a stormcloud. “What did you say?”

  She trembled at his anger even as she braced herself for more. She wouldn’t bend. She wouldn’t submit. She wouldn’t sell herself for the hopeless, destructive illusion that he might someday trust her, respect her, love her.

  “I said no.” Snapping the box shut, she held it out to him. “Sorry, Nikos. I’m not for sale.”