"Why didn't you stay?"
"I will probably seem a fool to you, but I prefer to make my own way. It has always been difficult for me to accept gifts from anyone, and the business was a gift handed down from my grandfather to my father. No, I will take nothing from my father. Let my brothers have my share."
How Alexandra admired him.
"Besides," George added softly, "if I had stayed in Greece, I never would have met you."
Alexandra felt herself blushing. "You've never been married?"
"No. I used to get engaged once a day," he teased, "but at the last moment I always felt there was something wrong." He leaned forward, and his voice was earnest. "Beautiful Alexandra, you are going to think me very old-fashioned, but when I get married, it will be forever. One woman is enough for me, but it must be the right woman."
"I think that's lovely," she murmured.
"And you?" George Mellis asked. "Have you ever been in love?"
"No."
"How unlucky for someone," he said. "But how lucky for—"
At that moment, the waiter appeared with dessert. Alexandra
was dying to ask George to finish the sentence, but she was afraid to.
Alexandra had never felt so completely at ease with anyone. George Mellis seemed so genuinely interested in her that she found herself telling him about her childhood, her life, the experiences she had stored up and treasured.
George Mellis prided himself on being an expert on women. He knew that beautiful women were usually the most insecure, for men concentrated on that beauty, leaving the women feeling like objects rather than human beings. When George was with a beautiful woman, he never mentioned her looks. He made the woman feel that he was interested in her mind, her feelings, that he was a soul mate sharing her dreams. It was an extraordinary experience for Alexandra. She told George about Kate, and about Eve.
"Your sister does not live with you and your grandmother?"
"No. She—Eve wanted an apartment of her own."
Alexandra could not imagine why George Mellis had not been attracted to her sister. Whatever the reason, Alexandra was grateful. During the course of the dinner, Alexandra noted that every woman in the place was aware of George, but not once did he look around or take his eyes from her.
Over coffee, George said, "I don't know if you tike jazz, but there's a club on St. Marks Place called the Five Spot..."
"Where Cecil Taylor plays!"
He looked at Alexandra in astonishment. "You've been
"Often!" Alexandra laughed. "I love him! It's incredible how we share the same tastes." George replied quietly, "It's like some kind of miracle." They listened to Cecil Taylor's spellbinding piano playing, long solos that rocked the room with arpeggios and rippling glissandi. From there they went to a bar on Bleecker Street, where the customers drank, ate popcorn, threw darts and lis-tened to good piano music. Alexandra watched as George got into a dart contest with one of the regular patrons. The man was good, but he never had a chance. George played with a grim in-tensity that was almost frightening. It was only a game, but he played it as though it meant life or death. He's a man who has to win, Alexandra thought.
It was 2:00 a.m. when they left the bar, and Alexandra hated for the evening to end.
George sat beside Alexandra in the chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce he had rented. He did not speak. He just looked at her. The resemblance between the two sisters was startling. I wonder if their bodies are alike. He visualized Alexandra in bed with him, writhing and screaming with pain.
"What are you thinking?" Alexandra asked.
He looked away from her so she could not read his eyes. "You'll laugh at me."
"I won't. I promise."
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I suppose I'm considered something of a playboy. You know the life—yachting trips and parties, and all the rest of it."
"Yes..."
He fixed his dark eyes on Alexandra. "I think you are the one woman who could change all that. Forever."
Alexandra felt her pulse quicken. "I—I don't know what to say."
"Please. Don't say anything." His lips were very close to hers, and Alexandra was ready. But he made no move. Don't make any advances, Eve had warned. Not on the first night. If you do, you become one of a long line of Romeos dying to get their hands on her and her fortune. She has to make the first move.
And so, George Mellis merely held Alexandra's hand in his until the car glided to a smooth stop in front of the Blackwell mansion. George escorted Alexandra to her front door. She turned to him and said, "I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed this evening."
"It was magic for me."
Alexandra's smile was bright enough to light up the street "Good night, George," she whispered. And she disappeared inside.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Alexandra's phone rang. "Do you know what I just did? I telephoned my family. I told them about the wonderful woman I was with tonight. Sleep well, lovely Alexandra."
When he hung up, George Mellis thought, After we're married, I will call my family. And I'll tell them all to go fuck themselves.
Alexandra did not hear from George Mellis again. Not that day, or the next, or the rest of that week. Every time the phone rang, she rushed to pick it up, but she was always disappointed. She could not imagine what had gone wrong. She kept replaying the evening in her mind: I think you are the one woman who could change all that forever, and I telephoned my mother and father and brothers and told them about the wonderful woman I was with tonight. Alexandra went through a litany of reasons why he had not telephoned her.
She had offended him in some way without realizing it.
He liked her too much, was afraid of falling in love with her and had made up his mind never to see her again.
He had decided she was not his type.
He had been in a terrible accident and was lying helpless in a hospital somewhere.
He was dead.
When Alexandra could stand it no longer, she telephoned Eve. Alexandra forced herself to make small talk for a full minute before she blurted out, "Eve, you haven't heard from George Mellis lately, by any chance, have you?"
"Why, no. I thought he was going to call you about dinner."
"We did have dinner—last week."
"And you haven't heard from him since?"
"No."
"He's probably busy."
No one is that busy, Alexandra thought. Aloud she said, "Probably."
"Forget about George Mellis, darling. There's a very attractive Canadian I'd like you to meet. He owns an airline and ..."
When Eve had hung up, she sat back, smiling. She wished her grandmother could have known how beautifully she had planned everything.
"Hey, what's eating you?" Alice Koppel asked.
"I'm sorry," Alexandra replied.
She had been snapping at everyone all morning. It had been two full weeks since she had heard from George Mellis, and Alexandra was angry—not with him, but with herself for not being able to forget him. He owed her nothing. They were strangers who had shared an evening together, and she was act-ing as though she expected him to marry her, for God's sake. George Mellis could have any woman in the world. Why on earth would he want her?
Even her grandmother had noticed how irritable she had be-come. "What's the matter with you, child? Are they working you too hard at that agency?"
"No, Gran. It's just that I—I haven't been sleeping well
When she did sleep, she had erotic dreams about George Mellis. Damn him! She wished Eve had never introduced him to her.
The call came at the office the following afternoon. "Alex? George Mellis." As though she didn't hear that deep voice in her dreams.
"Alex? Are you there?"
"Yes, I'm here." She was filled with mixed emotions. She
did not know whether to laugh or cry. He was a thoughtless, selfish egotist, and she did not care whether she ever saw him again.
"I wanted to call you soo
ner," George apologized, "but I just returned from Athens a few minutes ago."
Alexandra's heart melted. "You've been in Athens?"
"Yes. Remember the evening we had dinner together?"
Alexandra remembered.
"The next morning Steve, my brother, telephoned me— My father had a heart attack."
"Oh, George!" She felt so guilty for having thought such terrible things about him. "How is he?"
"He's going to be all right, thank God. But I felt as though I was being torn in pieces. He begged me to come back to Greece and take over the family business."
"Are you going to?" She was holding her breath.
"No."
She exhaled.
"I know now that my place is here. There isn't one day or one hour that's gone by that I haven't thought about you. When can I see you?"
Now! "I'm free for dinner this evening."
He was almost tempted to name another of Alexandra's favorite restaurants. Instead he said, "Wonderful. Where would you like to dine?"
"Anywhere. I don't care. Would you like to have dinner at the house?"
"No." He was not ready to meet Kate yet. Whatever you do, stay away from Kate Blackwell for now. She's your biggest obstacle. "I'll pick you up at eight o'clock," George told her.
Alexandra hung up, kissed Alice Koppel, Vince Barnes and Marty Bergheimer and said, "I'm off to the hairdresser. I'll see you all tomorrow."
They watched her race out of the office.
"It's a man," Alice Koppel said.
They had dinner at Maxwell's Plum. A captain led them past the crowded horseshoe bar near the front door and up the stairs to the dining room. They ordered.
"Did you think about me while I was away?" George asked.
"Yes." She felt she had to be completely honest with this man—this man who was so open, so vulnerable. "When I didn't hear from you, I thought something terrible might have happened. I—I got panicky. I don't think I could have stood it another day."
Full marks for Eve, George thought. Sit tight, Eve had said. I'll tell you when to call her. For the first time George had the feeling the plan really was going to work. Until now he had let it nibble at the edges of his mind, toying with the idea of controlling the incredible Blackwell fortune, but he had not really dared believe it. It had been merely a game that he and Eve had been playing. Looking at Alexandra now, seated across from him, her eyes filled with naked adoration, George Mellis knew it was no longer just a game. Alexandra was his. That was the first step in the plan. The other steps might be dangerous, but with Eve's help, he would handle them.
We're in this together all the way, George, and we'll share everything right down the middle.
George Mellis did not believe in partners. When he had what he wanted, when he had disposed of Alexandra, then he would take care of Eve. That thought gave him enormous pleasure. "You're smiling," Alexandra said.
He put his hand over hers, and his touch warmed her. "I was thinking how nice it was our being here together. About our being anywhere together." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jewel box. "I brought something for you from Greece."
"Oh, George ..."
"Open it, Alex."
Inside the box was an exquisite diamond necklace. "It's beautiful."
It was the one he had taken from Eve. It's safe to give it to her, Eve had told him. She's never seen it.
"It's too much. Really."
"It's not nearly enough. I'll enjoy watching you wear it."
"I—" Alexandra was trembling. "Thank you."
He looked at her plate. "You haven't eaten anything."
"I'm not hungry."
He saw the look in her eyes again and felt the familiar soaring sense of power. He had seen that look in the eyes of so many women: beautiful women, ugly women, rich women, poor women. He had used them. In one way or another, they had all given him something. But this one was going to give him more than all of them put together.
"What would you like to do?" His husky voice was an invitation.
She accepted it, simply and openly. "I want to be with you."
George Mellis had every right to be proud of his apartment. It was a tasteful jewel of a place, furnished by grateful lovers— men and women—who had tried to buy his affection with expensive gifts, and had succeeded, always temporarily.
"It's a lovely apartment," Alexandra exclaimed.
He went over to her and slowly turned her around so that the diamond necklace twinkled in the subdued lighting of the room. "It becomes you, darling."
And he kissed her gently, and then more urgently, and Alexandra was hardly aware when he led her into the bedroom. The room was done in tones of blue, with tasteful, masculine furniture. In the center of the room stood a large, king-size bed. George took Alexandra in his arms again and found that she was shaking. "Are you all right, kale' mou?'
"I—I'm a little nervous." She was terrified that she would disappoint this man. She took a deep breath and started to unbutton her dress.
George whispered, "Let me." He began to undress the exquisite blonde standing before him, and he remembered Eve's words: Control yourself. If you hurt Alexandra, if she finds out what a pig you really are, you'll never see her again. Do you un-derstand that? Save your fists for your whores and your pretty little boys.
And so George tenderly undressed Alexandra and studied her nakedness. Her body was exactly the same as Eve's: beautiful and ripe and full. He had an overwhelming desire to bruise the white, delicate skin; to hit her, choke her, make her scream. If you hurt her, you'll never see her again.
He undressed and drew Alexandra close to his body. They stood there together, looking into each other's eyes, and then George gently led Alexandra to the bed and began to kiss her, slowly and lovingly, his tongue and fingers expertly exploring every crevice of her body until she was unable to wait another moment.
"Oh, please," she said. "Now. Now!"
He mounted her then, and she was plunged into an ecstasy that was almost unbearable. When finally Alexandra lay still in his arms and sighed, "Oh, my darling. I hope it was as wonderful for you," he lied and said, "It was."
She held him close and wept, and she did not know why she was weeping, only that she was grateful for the glory and the joy of it.
'There, there," George said soothingly. "Everything is marvelous."
And it was.
Eve would have been so proud of him.
In every love affair, there are misunderstandings, jealousies, small hurts, but not in the romance between George and Alexandra. With Eve's careful coaching, George was able to play skillfully on Alexandra's every emotion. George knew Alexandra's fears, her fantasies, her passions and aversions, and he was always there, ready to give her exactly what she needed, He knew what made her laugh, and what made her cry. Alexandra was thrilled by his lovemaking, but George found it frustrating. When he was in bed with Alexandra, listening to her animal cries, her excitement aroused him to a fever pitch. He wanted to savage her, make her scream for mercy so he could have his own relief. But he knew if he did that he would destroy everything. His frustration kept growing. The more they made love, the more he grew to despise Alexandra.
There were certain places where George Mellis could find satisfaction, but he knew he had to be cautious. Late at night he haunted anonymous singles' bars and gay discos, and he picked up lonely widows looking for an evening's comfort, gay boys hungry for love, prostitutes hungry for money. George took them to a series of seedy hotels on the West Side, in the Bowery and in Greenwich Village. He never returned to the same hotel twice, nor would he have been welcomed back. His sexual partners usually were found either unconscious or semiconscious, their bodies battered and sometimes covered with cigarette burns.
George avoided masochists. They enjoyed the pain he inflicted, and that took away his pleasure. No, he had to hear them scream and beg for mercy, as his father had made him scream and beg for mercy when George was a small boy. His punis
hments for the smallest infractions were beatings that often left him unconscious. When George was eight years old and his father caught him and a neighbor's son naked together, George's father beat him until the blood ran from his ears and nose, and to make sure the boy never sinned again, his father pressed a lighted cigar to George's penis. The scar healed, but the deeper scar inside festered.
George Mellis had the wild, passionate nature of his Hellenic ancestors. He could not bear the thought of being controlled by anyone. He put up with the taunting humiliation Eve Blackwell inflicted upon him only because he needed her. When he had the Blackwell fortune in his hands, he intended to punish her until she begged him to kill her. Meeting Eve was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him. Lucky for me, George mused. Unlucky for her,
Alexandra continually marveled at how George always knew just what flowers to send her, what records to buy, what books would please her. When he took her to a museum, he was excited about the same paintings she loved. It was incredible to Alexandra how identical their tastes were. She looked for a single flaw in George Mellis, and she could find none. He was perfect. She grew more and more eager for Kate to meet him.
But George always found an excuse to avoid meeting Kate Blackwell.
"Why, darling? You'll love her. Besides, I want to show you off."
"I'm sure she's wonderful," George said boyishly. "I'm terrified she'll think I'm not good enough for you."
'That's ridiculous!" His modesty touched her. "Gran will adore you."
"Soon," he told Alexandra. "As soon as I get up my courage."
He discussed it with Eve one night.
She thought about it. "All right. You'll have to get it over with sooner or later. But you'll have to watch yourself every second. She's a bitch, but she's a smart bitch. Don't underestimate her for a second. If she suspects you're after anything, she'll cut your heart out and feed it to her dogs."
"Why do we need her?" George asked.
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