by Anthology
“Do you speak English?”
They both nodded, but did not offer proof.
“And you know of Madame Evangeline?”
Again the simultaneous nods.
With a sigh, she stepped in front of the less enormous of the two giants and poked him in the chest. “I need a little reassurance with real words, please.”
A smirk tilted the corner of his mouth as he looked down, and one eyebrow quirked above his glasses. “Should you call Eve’s name, we will come to you, and the date will end. No questions asked.”
“And if the door is locked?” She almost laughed at his affronted expression. “All right, I get it. You will come if I need you, even if you have to break down solid-core doors to get to me, is that right?”
His half smile returned and offered comfort without words. She started into the suite, then hesitated and turned back. “Answer two more questions for me.”
The larger man turned toward her, silently encouraging her to continue.
“Do you know my guest?”
They nodded.
“Is he as arrogant as the two of you?”
A short, but no less real, laugh burst from the man on the right, as the one on the left offered a single-word answer. “More.”
Chapter Three
Kostas nodded to the guards as he approached the door to his fantasy. “Is she ready, Galan?”
“Did you want me to take a look?”
“Not if you ever want to see anything again.”
Nico chuckled and touched his arm. “Careful with her, cousin. I don’t care if you hired us or not; if that delicate little girl hollers for me, I will haul her out of there and make her feel safe. Are we clear?”
“That’s why I chose you two. I would expect nothing less.”
He hesitated, knuckles poised above the sturdy door. The story she’d written on her application screamed through his mind. A gorgeous woman perched on an antique display case while photographers circled. A producer who failed to consider that old glass wasn’t tempered to explode into a thousand harmless pieces. A remorseful assistant who didn’t think before throwing a stainless-steel water bottle for the model to catch. Glass shards, brittle and sharp, slicing delicate flesh.
He blew out a breath and rapped softly. Silence answered. He knocked again and turned the knob. The door opened, unhindered. The late afternoon sun illuminated the king-sized, brass bed. A slender, broken angel stretched naked on the cotton duvet. He walked across the polished cork floor to stand beside the goddess of his dreams. Brenna’s chest rose and fell in the deep, labored rhythm of exhausted sleep.
Raven hair, straight as the finest silken thread, spread across the pristine white pillow. A red mask contrasted sharply with her fair skin. The golden tan that typically tinted her skin on the runways of the world had faded over the months since her accident. Her full, red lips were parted slightly in sleep. A living Snow White, except for the thin, white line that ran from her enticing mouth to disappear beneath the mask. He almost regretted covering her striking eyes.
She sighed, making him feel like a letch for studying her while she slept. Still, he could not bring himself to wake her or walk away. A network of angry, pink slashes wove from her left shoulder almost to her tiny, rose-tipped breasts. Even though the rest of her graceful body remained perfect, and the narrow scar left on her cheek by the finest surgeons would disappear beneath stage make-up, she would never walk the runways again. The idea pissed him off on her behalf. As a businessman, he could understand the fashion industry’s drive for perfection, but not when it hurt a lovely woman like Brenna Halsted.
Digging in the basket on the nightstand, he located the handcuffs he’d requested, carefully lifted her left arm, and clipped the furry band around it. He laid her hand on the pillow and snapped the other cuff to a bar on the headboard before doing the same with the second set, securing the circle around her right wrist. Brenna stirred and a tiny scowl marred her brow, but months of stress and fatigue, coupled with the long flight from NY, had apparently left her drained.
He took the ties and moved to the end of the bed. Making a loop, he slipped the silk around her fine-boned ankle and secured it to the footboard. As he tied off her other leg, his belt buckle scraped the brass.
***
Brenna awoke with a start. She tried to sit up, but could not move. Panic immediately surged through her brain, and she twisted frantically as the dulling effects of exhaustion fled. The handcuffs rattled. The chains were long enough to allow limited movement, but they did not yield, and she could not do more than wiggle her legs.
“Easy. Do not fear.” The bed dipped beside her as it yielded to a man’s weight.
Her pulse fluttered rapidly in her throat. The silk strips and cuffs had warned of his intentions, but waking up pinned, spread-eagled and helpless, frightened the crap out of her.
Gentle fingers tested the pulse of her jugular. “You are safe, little sparrow.”
A laugh escaped at the thickly-accented endearment wrapped in such precise language. “I’m tied naked to a bed in a foreign country with a man I don’t know anything about beyond the fact that he is obviously Greek and that he gets off on restraining women. Forgive me if I’m leery.”
The disembodied voice chuckled. “Allow me to explain. Perhaps that will make things a bit easier.”
“I’m obviously not going anywhere.”
He laughed again. “This is true, though should you tell me to stop, I will end whatever it is that frightens you. If I refuse, it will be because I think you need to cross a threshold, but you only have to whisper the word and I will cease immediately. Do you remember how to bring everything to an instant conclusion, Brenna?”
“Yes. I scream for the big bastards outside.”
“You will not have to use them. Your safe word will work equally well with me. However, I intend to make you lose control and cry out more than once, so you must be very specific to halt our activities.” He brushed her hair from her face, his fingers lingering on the scar. “Tell me what will stop me, Brenna.”
Her mouth suddenly felt dry, and her heart tried to escape her chest. He wants to make me scream? What the hell have I done?
“Say it, sparrow.”
“Eve.”
“Good. Would you like anything before we get started?” He rose from the bed and she heard the rustle of fabric. Was he undressing already?
What the hell? “Did you just strip?”
“No, merely removed my suit jacket. Did you want me naked?”
Hell no! “Since I can’t see you anyway, it doesn’t matter, does it?”
He returned to stand beside her. A single finger stroked the tender underside of her forearm. “You sound brave, but your blood pulses too quickly through your veins. You must trust me if we are to do this right.”
“I trust one person outside my family, Mr. Drakos, and you are not him.”
His long hand circled her wrist and pressed her palm to his hip. “See, I am still clothed. I did not lie, nor will I.”
Brenna tugged away. “Okay, so you said you would explain. Let’s start with that.”
“All right. May I touch you while we talk?”
“Are you going to ask me for permission before you do anything?”
“No.” The bed sank as he settled beside her waist. “Part of the plan requires an element of surprise on occasion. Warning you would defeat our purpose.”
“And what would our purpose be, Mr. Drakos?”
“Kostas.”
“I don’t think—”
He pressed two fingers over her mouth. “If you cannot trust me enough to say my name, we are done. I will not continue if you are that uneasy.”
Would he really walk away? Did she want him to? No. She turned her head from beneath his hand to speak. “All right, Kostas.”
***
His given name slipped from her tongue with hesitant sensuality. Her full lips had been warm and soft beneath his fingertips, and
he longed to taste them. Had wanted that simple right since the first time he’d seen her strut her confident, gorgeous ass down a Parisian runway. Brenna Halsted equaled every fantasy personified. He had never expected an opportunity to touch her with anything beyond a casual embrace. She allowed very few past her ice-princess persona to the inner sanctum of her real life. The request to Madame Evangeline after Brenna’s accident had been sent in desperation as newspapers and magazines reported her downward spiral into depression.
A sassy smirk tilted the corner of her mouth. “Did you fall asleep?”
“No, merely contemplating how to make you understand.”
She smiled, a sexy, genuine expression so rarely bestowed on anyone. “I’m a fairly bright person, despite the questionable intelligence involved in my current situation. Why don’t you outline the plan that has me stretched out like a frog in science class, and we’ll proceed from there.”
“Are you always too pragmatic about intimacy?”
“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
God, she was perfect in every way. Risking her displeasure, he spread his hand over her concave stomach, caressing upward to dip his fingers in the sharp indentations between her ribs. “You are too thin.”
The corners of her mouth tightened. “Yeah, pointing out what you don’t like about a woman is the perfect way to seduce her.”
The sad expression on her face tugged at his heart. “Simply an observation. One I am sure you have heard before.” Her delicate, smooth skin called to his baser instincts. He swept his hand down, caressing the curve of her waist to the slight flare of her hip. “You are incredibly beautiful, each part of you perfection. This, too, you have heard, yet you apparently do not believe it is true.”
“That was before.”
“Ah, the accident.” Leaving his left hand where he could flex his fingers into her faultless, well-toned ass, he traced her shoulder scars with the back of his right. “Your profile said they still pain you. Is this true? It has been months.”
She shuddered beneath him. Pain, or something else? “Ghost pangs. The doctors claim that my mind has locked into the idea that it still hurts because the scars changed my life so drastically. They swear once I accept reality and move on, the pain will end.”
He’d heard it all before. Had used money and influence to find conventional and creative answers long before he joined her, but the ache in her voice still twisted his stomach. “Then it ends tonight.”
“You still haven’t explained how you intend to make that happen, Mr.…Kostas.”
“Together we will convert your discomfort to pleasure.” He turned his hand over and skimmed her chest, circling her breasts in a lazy figure eight. Pink tinted her skin and her areolas darkened. He suppressed a groan. “Before the sun rises, you will know exquisite satisfaction. Pain will no longer control you.” He grasped a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, squeezing it firmly until her lips parted and her back bowed subtly from the mattress. “I will control it, and you will embrace the sweet agony, begging me not to stop as you come apart in my hands.”
“Are you serious? You intend to hurt me, and you think I’ll get off on it?” She snorted in disbelief. “What if I don’t agree to this plan of yours?”
Then I will have failed us both. “Say your word and we are done. It is that simple.” He braced a hand on either side of her shoulders, his face so close to hers he could smell mint on her breath and the faint scent of lavender from her perfume, or perhaps her lotion. He brushed his mouth across her lips, stealing a precious taste before she sent him packing. “Shall we begin, Brenna?”
***
The sexy rumble of his voice hypnotized, lulled her fears, until she believed his promises. The silky texture of his shirt tantalized and teased her nipples as he braced above her. Every nerve ending in her body simmered with unexpected need. She grasped his wrists in her hands and lifted toward his mouth. “What’s in this for you?”
He groaned and tipped his forehead against hers. “This night is not about me.”
“Sure it is. You submitted an application to Madame Evangeline, too. Why? What do you want?”
“To see you smile.”
She shook her head and ignored the twinge of guilt as Drew’s often touted claim flashed in her head. “Throwing the bullshit flag on that one. No one’s that noble, Kostas. Do you get off on making women scream?”
He stilled a second before shoving to his feet and pacing beside the bed. “Skata! You ask questions impossible for a sane man to address.”
She laughed at the Greek expletive but did not comment. Even in his agitated state, his words carried the crisp precision inherent in a man using a second language.
“I cannot explain that I have wanted you so long that I ache simply being in the same room with you. That once your barriers crumble, I want to take you in my arms and make love to you until we are both so sated that even one more kiss would be too much.”
Was he aware that he had spoken aloud? A brief giggle burst from her before she could restrain it. “Telling me that you don’t want to tell me you’re a crazed fan is not the way to convince me to give you my body, and if I understand you right—my mind.”
“Fuck!”
She could not stop the laughter that escaped at his outburst. “Yep, I understand that part.”
He knelt beside the bed, his knees shifting on the area rug. “Look at me, Brenna.”
“That’s a little hard right now.”
“Turn your face this way, so I have your full attention.”
“You’ve had that since the moment I awoke.” Despite her inexplicable desire to tease him, she shifted toward his dynamic presence. “What do you really want?”
He captured her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, tracing her lower lip with the thumb of his other hand. “If, when this is all over, you desire me. Want to make love to me, not just have sex, then my fantasy will be fulfilled. If not, having brought you pleasure will be a memory I will treasure the rest of my life.”
She took a deep breath to keep from swearing. “Do you really believe your own crap, Kostas?”
He bit sharply on her finger, then soothed the sting away with his tongue. “I can be very persuasive, little sparrow. I do not plan to fail.”
Chapter Four
I do not plan to fail. The arrogant declaration raced repeatedly through Brenna’s head as Kostas prepared to turn her pain to pleasure. Her head and face ached while invisible knives ripped across her shoulder, burning with remembered agony. The breeze generated by the overhead fan emphasized her vulnerable state. Cool air slipped over her naked breasts and lower to tease the closely trimmed landing strip left by her French wax.
“Kostas?”
“Yes, little sparrow?”
“I’m starting to freak out. Could we get this show on the road?”
She could almost hear his grin as he sat next to her on the bed. Gentle fingers brushed her hair from her shoulders before he trailed down her arm, raising goose bumps and tightening her nipples. He continued tracing little circles across her abdomen, then upward to caress the sides of her breasts.
“You are gorgeous.” His fingers outlined the marks on her shoulder and she cringed away. “Ivory satin and pink lace.”
“Pretty compliments won’t make the scars less ugly.”
Tender hands held her cheeks. “Stop, Brenna.” Firm lips whispered over the line on her face, his tongue barely skimming the aching flesh before he moved on to kiss her with the lightest touch. “Trust me. You are nothing less than perfection.”
“Lies—”
“Do not belong in this room, not between us.” He kissed her again, harder, nibbling and demanding her participation.
When he allowed her to breathe again, Kostas dropped distracting kisses along her jaw and down her throat, lightly tonguing the ridges on her shoulder. Shivers raced through her as the soothing caress mingled with the ghost pain. She arched toward him, desperate
to feel his lips in more intimate places.
“In time, sparrow.”
The smooth skin of his cheeks stroked the inside curves of her breasts as he wandered down her sternum and along her ribs. The closely-cropped sides of his hair tickled. When he reached her belly button, he traced it with his tongue then wandered back up to suck a nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth. His teeth grazed the taut peak, closing sharply, before he licked the sting away. Her breast popped from his mouth, his breath teasing it to pucker tighter.
Brenna moaned and lifted. “Don’t go.”
“Never.” He took the sensitive tip between his finger and thumb, squeezing and stretching the flesh. A tiny zip of pain shot to her core the instant before something hard and cold closed over the nipple. He squeezed the clamp until she cried out and tried to twist away.
Kostas groaned, his mouth already busy teasing her other breast, nudging and pulling to ready her for the instrument of sweet suffering. When he tightened the second nipple clamp in place, the pain from her shoulder and in her cheek flared to life, far more intense than usual.
Gasping, she closed her hands around the chains of her cuffs in an effort to maintain a bit of control. “Oh, God, Kostas. It hurts.”
He kissed her again, lulling her into believing in him as his hands drifted down her body, kneading her hips and thighs. “I am sorry to cause your pain, sweet Brenna. The pleasure will come soon.”
Long, talented fingers slipped between her legs, probing and circling, coaxing her to welcome him. Her legs trembled as moisture flooded the already damp passage, and she lifted toward his touch, urging him on. “Ah…there. Ah!” Tremors shook her—contracting her muscles and fighting off the narrowing pain and encroaching ecstasy. How could the two build together? How had he known they would?
Opening her outer lips with two fingers, her tormentor wet his thumb in her juices and slowly explored her tiny sphincter as his other thumb leisurely massaged her clit. “Ready for the next nip, Brenna?”
