by Tara Pammi
“About what?” she managed to whisper, under the thrall of his mesmerizing gaze.
With a smooth flick of his wrist, he tugged her and she fell into him with a gasp. Every muscle in her body sighed at the contact with his hard one. A little more pressure and he had her locked in his arms with their faces only inches apart. Leaving her with no choice except to look into the anger that turned his eyes into dark gold. “About how your grandfather is doing, you ungrateful little brat.” At her gasp, his hold tightened further, this short of hurting. Sinuous heat burst in her belly and Leah struggled. “Is it too much to hope you would care about the man who took care of you when your father died?”
With a grunt, Leah pushed him back, hating the fact that he had muddled with her head with so little effort. She couldn’t let on how rattled she was by his presence, how out of balance she felt when he touched her, even innocently.
She breathed in roughly, gritting her jaw so tight that she would need to see a dentist soon. There should have been smoke coming out of her ears too. “First of all...I’m not sixteen anymore so stop calling me a brat.
“Secondly, not that I have to explain myself to you, I know how Giannis is doing. I speak to his nurse every day.”
She instantly regretted her words when she saw the disbelief in his gaze.
Turning away from him, she walked to the mini fridge in the corner, needing the time away from his scrutiny to compose herself. Grabbed a bottle and gulped the water down so fast that her throat burned at the chill.
And yet she could feel the heat pooling under her skin as he watched her from the other side of the room, could feel an unnamed charge building up in the room...
This slicing awareness of him, this reaction to his nearness...it was intolerable and utterly frightening. Stavros had only wreaked destruction on her life—why didn’t her body understand that?
“You haven’t visited him once in five years.”
Her chest ached at the thought of seeing Giannis. God, how she wanted to see that kind smile... Even through his heart attack and triple bypass surgery five years ago, Giannis had survived. She wouldn’t risk it by seeing him now.
“My relationship with Giannis is none of your business.”
His mouth stretched into a smile, the straight upper lip losing its severity in the process. “I’m making it mine.”
“And I’m saying ‘No more.’ I have spent five years living a life you dictated, Stavros, down to the food I ate, the clothes I wore, the people I spoke to. Whatever you think needed fixing in me, it is fixed now. I want to lead my life, I want to build a career...” Frustration filled her throat with tears. “What more do you need to be convinced that I can lead my own life?”
“Not getting a phone call from Dmitri that you are drunk and plastered over some boy would have been a start.”
“I told you why I did that. If I hadn’t, you would have gone another decade without answering my phone calls.” She hated that her every action was being driven by him. That even in her own mind, she had no freedom. And it could not continue.
“I have spoken to a friend of mine. Philip is a lawyer.” She stepped back from him, willing herself to stay strong. “I’m aware of my rights, Stavros. There are a hundred different reasons that could be cited and accepted by the court for a divorce.”
“A divorce?”
“Yes. I want a divorce. I want to never see you again. And I’m sure the thought of being rid of me forever fills you with happiness. So give us both what we want.”
A small smile touched his mouth but didn’t reach that compelling gaze. Again, Leah had a feeling that it hid so much she didn’t know. “You have rights and lawyers. But it could take years if I didn’t agree, Leah. We could be celebrating a ten-year anniversary before we even get through the preliminaries.”
“Is this what I have become for you?” Leah grabbed the edge of the desk to hide the trembling of her hands, a scream building away in her chest.
Hot tears prickled behind her eyelids. “Someone to punch, something to punish eternally so that you can feel better about what happened to Calista? Believe me, I wish it had been me that ended up dead that night and not her. But you know what? Wishing doesn’t make anything come true.”
Because even though she had never touched drugs in her life, she had enabled Calista that night. And that guilt choked her.
For the first time that evening, or maybe in forever, he looked so shocked that Leah would have celebrated it as a victory if not for the gnawing in her gut.
Slowly, he recovered, those long lashes hiding his expression. “I have never wished that you had died instead that night, Leah.”
She didn’t want to believe him. But Stavros was never less than honest.
Of course he wouldn’t have wished Giannis Katrakis’s granddaughter’s death. His control, not only over his actions, but even his very thoughts had always disconcerted and fascinated her in equal measure.
He lived by such a stringent code of his own rules, and applied it to everyone around him that no one could really hold up to it.
Not Dmitri, not Calista and definitely not her.
Recovering from the memory, she shook her head. “Right. You didn’t wish my death because who else will you take out your sadistic side on if I were gone?”
“You call the last decade of your presence in my life sadism. I call it masochism.”
She knew, had always known, what he thought of her. But hearing it in his own words... Her fingers pressed into the glass in her hand, the urge to throw the glass, water and all, at his head bubbling up inside her.
His amused gaze followed her shaky movements. “Try it.”
The utter satisfaction in his voice got through to her like nothing else could.
He expected this of her. He expected a juvenile tantrum and she had already catered to him today and for years. Every time he had warned her to not do something, she had done that and more. Had lashed out against him from the moment she had landed in Greece.
Hating Stavros, especially when he had continuously given her ample reasons, had been easier than dealing with the grief and fear inside her.
No more, Leah.
There was power in that choice, power in saying she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right about her anymore.
Instead, she took a deep breath, reminded herself why she was here. It would be great if Stavros released those funds to her. But she had known it wouldn’t be that simple.
Any other man would have sent the woman he thought responsible for his sister’s death to the other end of the world.
Instead, hours after he had buried Calista, he had bound her to him in the most sacred of bonds.
She didn’t even care about the divorce. The mockery of her marriage had never meant anything to her. All she wanted was to succeed, to give her life meaning, to take the joy she had always found in designing and creating to the next step.
“What do I have to do that you will release those funds?”
“Will you do anything I ask of you?”
Something in the silky tone of his voice—a flicker of interest maybe, nudged her into panic zone again. “My personal life is my own. Even with the shackles you bound me with, I have friends who mean something to me. If you order me to cut ties with them, I won’t.
“Last time you cut off my friends from me and gained control over my life, I was...I was too...”
“Too high to even notice what was going on around you?”
She hadn’t even gone on the anti-anxiety medication that had been prescribed after her dad’s death, hadn’t wanted to numb the grief of his death.
But it was pointless to defend herself when he had already passed judgment.
“I know how much you resented my responsibility from the moment I stepped off
that plane. It doesn’t have to be like that anymore.”
Walking around the desk, he reached her side, and Leah fought the automatic impulse to step back, to keep some distance between them.
With his Greek-god good looks and smoldering arrogance, Stavros had always made her feel like the proverbial ugly duckling, made her feel even more awkward than she already had, surrounded by her grandfather’s high-class society friends.
It seemed like a thoroughly unwelcome awareness took the place of her anxiety now. The faint stubble on his tight cheeks, the perfectly etched curve of his mouth...
The collar of his dress shirt was open, showing his olive skin. Holding her breath in, she pulled her gaze to his.
Every nerve in her body thrummed as he neared her. At thirty-three, he was a decade older than her. So why couldn’t he have grown a paunch and become bald? Couldn’t fate or whatever it was up above give her a break at least in this?
Couldn’t he have been a little less gorgeous?
“If you have waited five years, what’s three more months for a divorce? Or is this Philip more than just a lawyer?”
“Philip is only a friend. And if you want to continue satisfying your twisted sense of duty...fine.”
Stavros watched in rising fascination as she closed her eyes and pulled in a long breath.
Shame filled him as he took in her slender frame. He hadn’t seen her once in five years. He hadn’t even made a call. Had just left her to Mrs. Kovlakis’s care.
It had been unbearable to even look at her after Calista’s death.
Theos, he had been so angry with her...
He had granted her request to apprentice at the fashion house, and yet, he hadn’t really done his duty, had he? Marrying her to protect her from fortune hunters that had always surrounded her like vultures, to protect her from her own reckless lifestyle, as he had promised Giannis, had only been the first step.
He had let grief and anger distract him. It had been easy to forget about her, easier even to tolerate her presence in his life from a distance.
A possession to safeguard?
She was right—it had gone on too long. He had resented his future with her for long enough.
“I’ve learned all I could at the fashion house. I have made some good contacts, and I would like to leave it now.”
Tension swathed him as she interrupted his thoughts. He should never have left her alone for so long, shouldn’t have given her this chance to go on the offensive.
“Leave and go where?”
“Ideally, I would love to go to New York City. But it—”
“New York and your inheritance—I can see where this is going.”
“—will be like starting all over,” she continued, glaring at him. “I have made some good contacts here—buyers at retail stores, models who like what I have come up with so far. So I decided against it. But I do need to take the next step now. The fashion industry moves so fast that waiting until the few people that like my designs forget me will harm any future I have in it.”
“What is the next step?”
Sudden energy filled her eyes. “I’m going to take a chance and start freelancing, do custom orders for now. Right now, I have interest from a woman who buys for a small retail store in London.”
“Going out on your own, especially in your field, is a risky venture. Shouldn’t you continue at the fashion house?”
“I have been making clothes all my life, Stavros. I have worked there for seven years and except for being allowed to give input on a senior designer’s creations, I don’t have any growth there.”
“But you don’t know anything about running a business.”
“You grew up on some itty-bitty farm and Dmitri...what was he...a drug runner or a pimp? I forget... The point is both of you knew less than squat when Giannis brought you here.”
He continued staring at her, his silence wreaking havoc on her breathing.
“I need to take this shot. And I need money up front for all the costs. I can’t access my trust fund unless you stop controlling it, unless you step down from your role as...”
“Ahhh...” He smirked and Leah wished she could get away with slapping the hateful man. But one wrong breath now and he would never listen to her again.
“That’s what this is all about. Money.”
“Yes, money,” she added, mimicking his sarcastic tone. Easy for him to look down upon her when he had gazillions of it. “Money that my father left me and has nothing to do with you or Giannis or my mother or the bloody Katrakis dynasty’s inheritance.”
“Fine.”
Was that it? So easy? Leah let out a long breath. Excitement fizzed through her. She would call her contact at the textile factory as soon as she got out. She would have to finalize and place orders for the raw materials, would have to hire someone to help with the sewing, would have to order equipment...
“Show me a proposal for this alleged business you want to start. If I find it sound,” he said, stressing how improbable he found the very idea, “I will invest in it myself.”
Anger and hurt ripped through Leah, leaving her trembling all over. Her chest was so tight that it was a miracle she could breathe.
She wanted to smash the expensive porcelain vase on the side table next to her, she wanted to let the scream building away in her chest loose, she wanted to...
“I don’t want your investment. I don’t want anything from you. I want my money. I want this...my career—I need this to be about me, Stavros, something I love doing, something I can take on without fear. Something I give all of myself to.”
“I should have made my intentions clearer to you far sooner. You were right, I shouldn’t have let it go on for so long. But now that you are here, I will correct the situation immediately.”
Her heart lurched into her throat, cutting off Leah’s breath. Whatever it was that he meant, it wasn’t going to be remotely what she wanted. “What do you mean?”
“When I gave my word to Giannis that I would protect you, even from yourself, I didn’t mean it temporarily, Leah. I meant the until death do us part. Whatever way that death might come for you. So let’s get two things straight.”
He looked like someone had carved his features in stone, removed every ounce of emotion from it. “This lawyer friend of yours... he should know better than to tangle with my wife.
“Secondly, you’ll move in with me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s high time we started our life together.
“And as for your career, we will get a fashion house, London or Milan or Paris, whatever you choose, to launch a line for you. As my wife, you will lack for nothing.”
CHAPTER THREE
LAUNCH A LINE from a top design house in the world? Lack for nothing as his wife?
His wife?
He had to be joking; he had always liked making her miserable!
You cannot see that boy anymore, Leah...
No more trips to New York...
Giannis allows you far too much financial freedom but not anymore...
Leah met his gaze and everything within her stilled.
Stavros Sporades didn’t give his word or make a promise easily. When he did...
Fear struck her so hard that her knees shuddered under her.
He instantly moved forward to catch her but Leah jerked away from him. “Don’t come near me,” she whispered.
She grabbed the door to stop from sliding to the floor in a puddle. She wanted to scream her denial but what left her mouth was a soft gasp.
He would never forgive her, or himself, for Calista’s death, never even give her a chance. Would punish them both for the rest of their lives.
And to even contemplate being his wife in the true
sense of the word...
Perversely, she felt a chilly calm inside instead of a boiling rage. “When I decided to come here today, I didn’t even care about whether I was married to you or not. I didn’t care about being so lonely all these years...friends I knew once living their life to the fullest... I lived it as if I deserved to be punished. But now...I won’t quietly accept your word this time.
“I’m going to file for divorce, Stavros.”
A tic played in his jaw, the only thing that betrayed his even gaze. He looked insurmountable, like a boulder intent on crushing her. “Lawyers and court proceedings cost money.”
That patronizing tone set her teeth on edge. “I will sell myself if I have to, to pay for it. Within the week, I will move out of that flat, will be handing in my resignation at the fashion house. The moment I step out of here, I’m going to call Philip and tell him what I plan to do.”
He moved to block her path, his gait predatory. “I’m not your enemy, Leah.”
Panic pushed a hundred different flight routes in her head, one more desperate than the next. “No? Because God help me the day you decide that you are. If your goons even lay a finger on me, I will go to the media and start talking about how you have treated me over the last five years. I’ll tell them I’ve been nothing but a glorified prisoner.
“I’m sure they would love to hear that saintly Stavros Sporades is nothing but a sadist.”
“I do not care what the media calls me.”
Nausea pooled in her mouth. “They will, of course, dig through the whole story again about that night and Calista.”
If there was fury before in his eyes, now there was nothing but the bitterest loathing for her. And seeing as she felt the same inside, that she despised herself for how far she was taking this, his loathing couldn’t touch Leah.
For once, his opinion of her couldn’t hurt her, as twisted as it was.
“If he even hears a whiff of it—” a vein throbbed in his temple and his hands fisted at his side “—Giannis, who...has done nothing but love you, he will be destroyed to see the Katrakis name dragged through mud. You will kill him with your stupid stunt, and my grandparents...they can’t bear to think of Calista’s death anymore.”
