The Billionaires' Brides Bundle
Page 24
Her dress had a row of tiny buttons down the bodice. He undid them slowly, even as her hands caught at his, and he paused to kiss each bit of warm, rosy skin he exposed.
She was breathing fast; the glitter in her eyes had become almost feverish.
“Damian,” she whispered. “Please…”
He kissed her, harder this time, deeper, and she moved against him. Yes God, yes. Like that. Just like that…
Her bra opened in the front. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks as he undid the clasp, let the silk cups fall open…
And groaned.
She was exquisite.
She had small, perfect breasts crowned by pale pink nipples. It had almost driven him insane, touching them that one time…
“Damian! Stop.”
She was moving against him again. It was too much. If she kept lifting herself to him this way, he would—
“Stop!”
He didn’t hear her. Or yes, he heard her voice but her words had no meaning as he drew one nipple deep into his mouth—
Something slammed into his chest. He jerked back. It was Ivy’s fist; even as he watched, she swung at him again. Stunned, he grabbed her wrists.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Get—off—me!”
She was crying. And yes, moving against him, not in passion but in an attempt to free herself of his weight.
He sat up, stunned, disbelieving. She scrambled away from him and shot to her feet, clutching the open bodice of her dress, staring at him as if he were a monster.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Don’t touch you? But—”
“I told you I didn’t want to come here. I told you I would not be your—your sex toy. And now—now, the minute we’re alone in this—this kingdom you rule, you start—you start pawing me.”
Pawing her? She had clung to him. Kissed him. Looked into his eyes with desire and now…
And now, it was time to up the ante. Make the game more interesting because she knew damned well he could always toss in his cards and walk away from the table.
He wanted to throw her back down on the rumpled bed, pin her arms over her head, force her thighs apart and finish what she had started, but she would not reduce him to that.
For all he knew, that was exactly what she wanted.
He snarled a name at her, one he’d never called any woman. Then he turned on his heel, strode through the suite, into the hall and slammed the door behind him.
Lucas had called it right. First Kay had played him for a sucker. Now Ivy was doing it. And he, fool that he was, had let it happen.
She was only a woman. A pretty face, a ripe body. God knew, there were plenty of those in his life. Yes, she carried his child but he knew damned well she hadn’t done it out of love for her sister.
She’d done it for money. Lots of it, probably. And then fate had intervened, taken Kay out of the picture, and Ivy would have seen that whatever Kay had promised her could be increased a hundredfold, a thousandfold, if she played the game right.
The lock clicked.
Panagia mou! She had locked the door against him. Locked his door against him. To hell with that. If she thought he’d put up with such crap, she needed to learn a lesson.
Starting right now.
He took a step back, aimed his foot at the door…
“Sir?”
Damian whirled around. “Get the hell out of here, Esias!”
His houseman stood his ground, no emotion showing on his face as if it were perfectly normal to find his master about to kick down the door of his own sitting room.
“I am sorry to disturb you, Your Highness, but your office in Athens is trying to reach you. They say it is urgent.”
Esias held out the telephone. Damian glared at it. What did he give a damn for his office in Athens? Except—except, it was the middle of the night.
The bitch laughing at him behind that door was only one woman. He could deal with her at his leisure. But if there was a problem in Athens, it could affect the hundreds of people who worked for him.
He held out his hand and Esias gave him the phone.
An Aristedes supertanker had run aground on a reef in South America. Oil might begin oozing into the ocean at any moment.
Damian tossed the phone to Esias. “Wake my pilot,” he snapped. “Tell him—”
“I have taken the liberty of doing so. The helicopter will be ready when you get there.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome, Your Highness.” The houseman paused and looked at the closed door. “Ah, is there anything else, sir?”
“Yes,” Damian said coldly. “The lady’s name is Ivy Madison. Make her comfortable, but under no circumstances is she to leave this island.”
Two days later, the crisis in South America had been resolved and Damian was on his way back to Minos.
It had been a hard, exhausting couple of days but it had given him time to calm down.
If he hadn’t been called away…
No, he thought, staring at the ocean swells far below the fast-moving helicopter, no, he wouldn’t think about that. Ivy had deliberately taken him to the brink of self-control.
He was certain of it.
But he hadn’t let her push him over the edge. And there was no chance it would happen again.
Two days in Athens. Two days away from temptation. Two days of rational thought and he’d come to a decision.
He’d made a mistake, bringing her to Minos. As for the rest, telling her he’d make her his mistress, that he might marry her…
Damian shook his head. Crazy. Or perhaps crazed was a better way to put it.
Why would he have even considered making her his mistress? All the emotional baggage that went into an arrangement like that? No way. The world was full of beautiful women. He surely didn’t need this particular one.
As for marriage…Crazy, for sure. He wasn’t marrying anybody. Not for years to come, if at all. And when that time came, assuming it did, he would choose his own wife, not let her choose him.
Because that was what had been going on. How come he hadn’t seen it right away?
Like her sister, Ivy had been angling for marriage from the start. She was just cleverer about it. An ambush, instead of a head-on attack. That way, the target didn’t stand a chance.
Her weapon had been the oldest one in the world. Sex. What could be more powerful in the hands of a beautiful woman, especially if a man was vulnerable?
And he sure as hell was vulnerable. He hadn’t had a woman for months. Damian’s jaw tightened. But he would, very soon.
Late last night, once he was sure the South American situation was under control, he’d phoned a French actress he’d met a few weeks ago. A couple of minutes of conversation and the upshot was, he’d fly to Paris next weekend.
She was looking forward to it, she’d purred.
So was he.
A long weekend in bed with the actress and Ivy would be forgotten. Hell, he’d forgotten her already…
“Your Highness?”
How long had the pilot’s voice been buzzing in his headset? Damian cleared his throat.
“Yes?”
“Touchdown in a couple of minutes, sir.”
“Thank you.”
They were flying lower now, skimming over a group of small islands that were part of the Cyclades, as was Minos, but these bits of land were uninhabited, as beautiful as they were wild.
Back in the days he’d had time for such things, he’d sailed a Sunfish here and explored them. Sometimes, making his way through the tall pines that clung to them, he’d half expected to come face-to-face with one of the ancient gods his people had once worshipped.
Or one of the goddesses. Aphrodite. Artemis. Helen of Troy. Not a goddess, no, but a woman whose beauty had brought a man to his knees.
Ivy had almost done that to him, but fate had intervened.
A man could come to his senses, given breathing room.
But all that would wait. Dealing with Ivy was more important. He wanted her off his island, and fast.
Yes, he thought, as the Jeep bounced along the narrow road, she was carrying his child. And yes, she needed watching. He knew that, better than before.
But he didn’t have to be the one doing the watching. She’d said that herself. Of course, he knew now that she hadn’t said it in hopes he’d listen. Just the opposite: she’d wanted to lure him into doing exactly what he’d done.
The funny thing was, it might have been the one true thing to come out of her mouth.
That soft, beautiful, treacherous mouth.
Damn it, what did that have to do with anything? Who gave a damn about her mouth or any other part of her anatomy except her womb?
He’d contact his lawyers. Have them make arrangements to set her up in a place of her own. Have them organize round-the-clock coverage of her and her apartment.
Until his son was born, he would regulate who she saw, what she did, every breath she took. But not in New York City.
Damian smiled coldly as he took the Jeep through a hairpin turn.
He’d keep a watch on her from a much closer vantage point.
Athens.
She would give birth here, in his country, where his peoples’ laws, where his nationality and his considerable leverage, would apply.
She wouldn’t like it—and that, he had to admit, was part of the reason the plan gave him so much pleasure.
He entered the palace through a secret door some ancestor had added in the fifteenth century so he could spy on a cheating wife, or so the story went.
He had no desire to go through the usual polite morning moves—Good morning, sir. Good morning, Esias. Or Elena, or Jasper, or Aeneas, or any of the half dozen others on the household staff.
The only person he wanted to see was Ivy. He’d ring for a cup of coffee. Then he’d have her brought to him so he could tell her what would happen next.
She’d moved into one of the guest suites. Esias had phoned to tell him that within an hour of his reaching his office. It had been well before he’d come to his senses and, for a wild moment, he’d imagined returning to Minos, storming into her suite, tumbling her back on the bed and finishing what had started before he’d had to leave for Athens.
Thank God, he hadn’t.
He didn’t want to carry through on the threat he’d made in New York, either. He didn’t want to own her, only to get rid of her. So what if, despite his newfound sanity, he could still remember the smell of her skin? The sweetness of her mouth? The taste of her nipples?
Damian stopped halfway up the stairs. Stop it, he told himself angrily. There was nothing special about Ivy. Another few days and he’d be with a woman who would not play games, who would not stir him to frustration and madness.
Who wouldn’t sigh the way Ivy did, when he kissed her. Or whisper his name as if it were music. Or fall asleep in his arms, as if he were keeping her safe…
“Damn it, Aristedes,” he said under his breath, and opened the door to his suite…
And saw Ivy, standing with her back to him…
Waiting for him.
His heart turned over, and he knew everything he’d told himself the last two days were lies.
The truth was, he wanted this woman more than he wanted his next breath—and she wanted him, too. Why else would she be here, waiting for his return?
He said her name and she swung to face him. His heart began to race. There was no artifice in her expression. Whatever she told him next would be the truth.
“Damian. You’re here.”
“Yes,” he said softly, “and so are you.”
“I—I heard the helicopter. And—and I went downstairs and asked Esias if you were coming and he said—he said yes, you were returning to Minos. And when he told me that, I felt—”
She was hurrying the words, rushing them together and he understood. It wouldn’t be easy to admit she’d been teasing him, that the teasing was over.
“You don’t have to explain.”
“But I do. I owe you that. I know—I know you think what I did the other night—that I did it deliberately, but—”
He closed the distance between them, caught her wrists and brought her hands to his lips.
“It was a game. I understand. But it’s over with. No more games, Ivy. From now on, we’ll be honest with each other, neh?”
She nodded. “Yes. Absolutely honest.”
Damian brought her hands to his chest. “Let me shower. Then we’ll have some breakfast. And then—” His voice roughened. “And then, sweetheart, I’ll show you how much I want you. How good it will be when we make love.”
Ivy jerked her hands from his. “What?”
He grinned. “You’re right. No breakfast. Just a quick shower…” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then rose again. “You can shower with me,” he whispered. “Would you like that?”
“You have no idea what I’m talking about!”
“I do, kardia mou. You want to apologize for—”
“Apologize?” Her voice rose in disbelief. “Apologize? For what?”
“For the other night,” he said carefully. “For teasing me—”
“Teasing you?” She stared at him; for a second, he wondered if he were speaking Greek instead of English. “Are you crazy?”
Damian’s mouth narrowed. “It would seem that one of us is.”
“You—you tried to take advantage of me the other night. And now—now, my God, you’re so full of yourself that you think—that you think…Do you really think I waited here to beg you to take me to bed?” Ivy lifted her hand and poked her forefinger into the center of his chest. “I waited here to tell you that I am going home!”
“You came to my rooms, waited for me, all so you could tell me you’re leaving Minos?”
Damian’s voice was low and ugly. It made Ivy’s heart leap.
Nothing was going the way she’d planned.
She’d expected him to be sharp with her. That would be her cue to tell him that it was illogical for them to spend the next six months in lock-step. What had happened the other night was proof they couldn’t get along.
Why torture each other when it wasn’t necessary?
She would go home. And she would agree to give him visiting rights to his son.
That was what she’d intended to tell him, but Damian had misunderstood everything. She’d waited in his rooms because she wanted this meeting to be private. She’d approached him in a conciliatory fashion because getting him angry would serve no purpose.
It had all backfired, and now he was looking at her the way a spider would look at a fly.
All right. She’d try again.
“Perhaps I should explain why I waited for you here.”
“There’s no need. I know the reason.”
“I did it because—”
“Because you thought, perhaps I overplayed my hand. Perhaps my performance the other night convinced him to get rid of me.”
“It wasn’t a performance!”
“And then, because you’re so very clever, so very good at this, you thought, yes, but if I say it first, if I tell him I want to leave, it will probably make him anxious to keep me.”
“You’re wrong! I never—”
She cried out as he caught hold of her and lifted her to her toes.
“The stakes are higher now, neh? Whatever Kay promised you as payment for your role in this ugly scheme—”
“She didn’t promise me anything!”
“Perhaps not. Perhaps you thought to wait until my son was in my arms before you asked f
or money.” His fingers bit into her flesh. “But fate dealt you a better card.”
“Can’t you get it through your thick skull that not everything is about you?”
“You’re wrong. This is all about me. My fortune. My title.” His mouth twisted. “And the sweetener you keep dangling in front of my nose.”
Before she could pull away, he kissed her, savaging her mouth, forcing her head back. Ivy stood immobile. Then memory and fear overwhelmed her and she sank her teeth into his lip.
He jerked back, tasting blood.
Slowly, deliberately, he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“Be careful, glyka mou. My patience is wearing thin.”
“You can’t do this!”
“You are in my country. I can do anything I damned well please.”
He let go of her, picked up the nearest telephone and punched a key.
“Esias. I want Ms. Madison’s things moved to my rooms. Yes. Immediately.”
Damian broke the connection and looked at Ivy. She stood straight and tall, head up, eyes steady on his even though they blazed with rage.
She was magnificent, so beautiful the sight of her made the blood roar in his ears.
He could take her now. Teach her that she belonged to him. Turn all that frost to flame.
But he wouldn’t. The longer he waited, the sweeter her submission would be.
Damian strolled into the huge master bath. Turned on the shower, toed off his mocs, unbuckled his belt, pulled his cotton sweater over his head as if he were alone.
A priceless vase whistled past his ear and shattered on the tile a couple of feet away.
He swung around and looked at Ivy. She glared back, head high, hands on hips, her eyes telling him how she despised him…
And then her gaze dropped to his broad shoulders, swept over his muscled chest and hard abs.
“Want to see more?” he said, very softly, and brought his hand to his zipper.
His Ivy was brave but she wasn’t stupid. Cheeks blazing, she turned and fled.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TRAPPED.
She was trapped like a fly in amber, Ivy thought furiously, held captive within something that looked beautiful but was really a prison.