Sexy Billionaires

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Sexy Billionaires Page 39

by Carol Marinelli


  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 arches 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 storm-cloud. “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.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NIKOS stared at her, hardly able to believe his ears.

  “Don’t you understand?” he said. “I’m giving you what you wanted. I’m making you my wife.”

  “How very generous. But I only wanted that when I was in love with you. Not anymore.” When he didn’t take the box, she tossed it on the table between them. Such a small thing, but it separated them like a stone wall two feet thick. “Now I just want to be free.”

  She shifted in her chair, brushing her dark hair off her bare shoulders. He looked around the restaurant that they’d conceived together. To his fevered imagination it seemed that every man in the room was watching Anna. Her lovely pale skin, the dark hair cascading in riotous waves down her back, those almond-shaped turquoise eyes challenging him. The beige halter top barely covered her full breasts, and her dark low-rise jeans revealed her flat belly.

  God, she was gorgeous. He’d never wanted her more.

  “You will marry me, Anna,” he said. “We both know it will happen.”

  “Death and taxes are inevitable. But marriage?” She gave him a humorless smile. “No.”

  “I don’t particularly want to marry you, either. But my son’s happiness means more to me than my own.”

  He saw her lips tighten at that. Good, so she understood how much he cared for Michael.

  But there was more to it than that.

  From the moment Nikos had seen Anna dancing with Victor Sinistyn in the club, something had changed in him that he couldn’t explain. He only knew that Anna belonged to him and no other man. He had to stamp his possession on her for all the world to see.

  The idea had haunted him. In the club, on his motorcycle, as he’d walked with Anna through the casino. He’d kept thinking it would be simple enough to marry her. Hell, they were already in Las Vegas. And once she wore his ring he knew she would be utterly loyal to those vows. There would be no more arguments or fear of betrayal. No custody battle splashed in the papers. It was the perfect solution.

  He’d just never thought she would refuse him.

  “You will marry me for the sake of our son.”

  “Never.”

  Nikos raked a hand through his dark hair in frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was accustomed to his employees rushing to fulfill his orders, and his mistresses had always done the same.

  “You will be rich—richer than your wildest dreams,” he pointed out. “I will deny you nothing.”

  She snorted incredulously. “You think I care about that? If I’d wanted to marry for money, I could have done it long ago.”

  “Meaning you’d have married Victor Sinistyn?”

  “Yes. I could have.” She paused. “I could still.”

  Nikos tightened his hands into fists, cracking his knuckles. A flood of unwelcome emotion swept through him.

  He remembered watching Anna in the dance club, the way she’d swayed against Sinistyn, gyrating beneath the flashing lights. He remembered the way the skin on her taut belly had glistened, how her low-slung jeans had barely covered her hips as she swayed.

  No other man but Nikos should touch her. Ever.

  Especially not Victor Sinistyn. How could Nikos allow Anna to throw herself away on a man like that? How could he allow his son to have this man for a stepfather.

  There was only one way to make sure that never happened. She would agree to his proposal.

  He had to convince her.

  “Why don’t you give the ring to Lindsey?” Anna said sweetly as she rose from the table. “I’m sure she’d be more than willing to marry you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go home and feed my son.”

  Home.

  He had a sudden image of her in bed, and he relaxed. Bed was a place where they’d always understood one another very well. A slow smile spread across his lips. Once they were home he would take her in his arms and she would not be able to deny him anything…

  “I will take you home,” he said.

  “But I left your car at the club—”

  “That will be arranged. The fastest way to get to my estate is on the bike.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re afraid to be that close to me again?”

  She tossed back her hair with a deliberate casualness that didn’t fool him for a second. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Good.” He rose from his chair, reaching out for her hand. “Let’s go.”

  She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide as the sea, then with obvious reluctance gave him her hand. It felt small and cool in his own. “Fine,” she said with a sigh. “Take me.”

  Oh, he intended to.

  But she hung back, glancing back at the table. “What about the ring? Are you just going to leave it?”

  Nikos shrugged. Since the jewelry hadn’t worked, it was of no further use to him. All he could think about now was that her skin felt warmer by the second. He yearned to touch her all over, to feel her hands on his body.

  “Is everything all right, Mr. Stavrakis?” the waiter asked
nervously behind him. “I hope there was no problem with your dinner?”

  His eyes focused on the young waiter who’d served Anna earlier. He looked scared, holding a platter of dirty dishes on his shoulder.

  “Your tip’s on the table,” Nikos replied abruptly. Then he turned back to push Anna out of the restaurant.

  He heard a loud gasp, and the clatter of dishes falling to the floor as the waiter saw the ring, but he didn’t wait for thanks. All he could think was that he had to get Anna home and in his bed. Within minutes they were roaring down the highway on his motorcycle.

  The moon was full, casting shadows over the sagebrush and distant mountains. Anna clung to Nikos on the back of the motorcycle, her dark hair whipping wildly around her face as they sped across the wide moonlit desert.

  She tightened her grip on his narrow waist, pressing her body against his. He was driving like a bullet, and the wind was cold against her bare arms and back. But that wasn’t the reason she was shivering.

  She was burning like a furnace, lit up from within.

  She knew why Nikos was driving down the highway as if all the demons of hell were in hot pursuit. She’d seen it in his dark eyes. She’d felt it in the way he’d touched her. In the way he’d taken possession of her hand and pulled her from the casino.

  He was going to make love to her. Until she couldn’t see straight. Until she couldn’t think.

  Until she agreed to marry him.

  She felt beads of sweat break out on her forehead, instantly wiped away by the cool desert wind.

  It terrified her how badly she wanted him in return. She was barely keeping herself in check. She was afraid she’d give in.

  To sleeping with him.

  To everything.

  Had anyone ever defied Nikos for long? Was it even possible?

  She shivered again.

  “Cold, my sweet?” Nikos asked in a husky voice as they pulled into the ten-car garage. Turning off the engine, he set the kickstand and gently took her hand, pulling her off the bike. He ran his fingers down the inside of her wrist as he pulled her close. “You won’t be cold for long.”

  She backed away. “I—need to go feed Misha,” she gasped out, and hurried down the hall. She was surprised and relieved beyond measure when he didn’t follow her.

 

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