A Reputation For RevengeThe Greek Billionaire's Baby Revenge Page 28

  “No,” he said harshly, furious at how tempted he was to give in to her. Hell, he’d love to have her as his secretary again. His life was so much easier with Anna by his side. And it was hard for him to deny her anything when he wanted to kiss her so badly. But he couldn’t be selfish. Not now. “I don’t want you as my secretary. I want you as my wife.”

  “Nikos, please,” she whispered, with those full pink lips. She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts upwards beneath her slim white shirt. “I need this so badly—”

  So did he.

  Taking her in his arms, he kissed her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ANNA COULD NOT even try to stop him. His kiss was hot, demanding. She felt his fingers run down her neck and along her back, and her whole body seemed to relax like a sigh. For a brief moment she thought she could put all her cares and worries aside. She was safe in his arms. Maybe Nikos could protect her, care for her. Love her…

  His tongue brushed against hers as he deepened the kiss, caressing her in an erotic dance that left her breathless. She leaned against him with a sigh.

  “Anna,” he whispered, so softly that the words were a mere breath against her skin. “You belong with me. Always.”

  He pressed her against the desk, kissing the vulnerable spot between her neck and shoulder until prickles of longing spread across her body. He ran his hands through her hair, causing bobby pins to scatter to the floor and her hair to tumble out of its chignon around her shoulders. She braced herself with an unsteady hand against his muscled shoulder. His fingers played with the waistband of her black pencil skirt, then moved beneath her fitted white shirt. A gasp escaped her as she felt his wide fingers splay lightly against the skin of her belly.

  Without warning he lifted her up on the desk, crushing papers beneath her weight, cradling her to his body. He spread her legs to wrap them around him. Through his finely cut trousers, she could feel how badly he wanted her.

  She wanted him too. But she was afraid. Afraid to trust too much, to give too much. What if she let herself depend on him and he crushed her?

  She couldn’t let herself give in to her desire. If she agreed to be his wife it would mean disaster. She couldn’t give herself away to a man who didn’t love her!

  He drew away. “You’re trembling.”

  Grasping at straws, she indicated the résumés, their laptops, the appointment calendars spread across his large mahogany desk. “We can’t do this,” she panted. “There’s too much at stake—”

  With an angry growl, he swept everything on the desk to the floor. Not even seeming to notice the crash of the laptops as they hit the carpet, he pushed her backward against the glossy wood of the desk. “Here. Now.”

  “Nikos—”

  He leaned forward, pressing his body against hers. His face inches from hers, his dark eyes pierced hers as he looked into her own searchingly. “Tell me that you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me.”

  Licking her lips, she tried to speak the words. But the lies could not form themselves on her mouth when all she wanted to do was kiss him all over and feel his naked skin against her body.

  She closed her eyes as she felt him slowly unbuttoning her shirt. He kissed her bare skin with each newly revealed inch until he finally pulled the shirt off her body. Without even knowing what she was doing, she whispered, “Please.”

  He stopped. “Please what?”

  Please hurry.

  Please make love to me now.

  Please love me…

  “Wait,” she gasped. To her surprise, he released her, and, bereft of his touch, she opened her eyes.

  He pushed himself up on one arm, looking down at her, and the expression on his face was one she’d never seen before. No, that wasn’t true. She’d seen it once. The night they’d conceived Misha. Nikos Stavrakis, the ruthless billionaire, was watching her with a vulnerable light in his dark eyes. As if she alone had the power to hurt him. Or save him.

  “What is it, zoe mou?” he asked softly.

  “I’m afraid,” she blurted out, then stopped, aghast.

  “Of what?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll hurt me,” she whispered.

  A smile suddenly curved his lips, softening the hard angles of his handsome face as he gently brushed her cheek with his hand. “I would never hurt you, agape mou. Never.”

  And at that moment she believed him.

  “I will be gentle. I swear to you on my life.” With two easy movements he pulled off her skirt, murmuring with awe, “You are so beautiful.”

  She reached up for him, unbuttoning his crisp linen shirt. Unlike his easy removal of her clothes, her fingers felt clumsy. They trembled in excitement, until finally she gave up on the last button and ripped off the shirt in her impatience.

  “That was my favorite shirt,” he said, amused.

  “Stupid of you to wear it today,” she murmured.

  Growling under his breath, he braced himself with his knees on the desk over her and slowly stroked down her full breasts, beneath the lacy fabric of her bra, until the only sound she could make was a moan.

  He unhooked the front clasp of her bra and pulled the fabric off her body, tossing it to the floor. “Beautiful,” he breathed again, cupping them in his hands, and she arched her back against the desk, straining to bring him closer to her. He lowered his head to taste her breasts. Then abruptly stopped.

  Wondering why, she looked down and saw that a small trickle of milk had escaped her left breast. She felt a squirm of embarrassment, then defiance. She was a nursing mother. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, be ashamed of it. But still…

  He raised a dark eyebrow at her, then lowered his head and slowly licked the other breast with his rough tongue. She sighed with pleasure. She gasped as he lowered his head between her legs.

  He worked his tongue with agonizing slowness, spreading her wide to taste the very heart of her. The full thickness of his tongue seemed to touch every nerve-ending of her body, leaving her quivering and taut with longing.

  Gripping his hair with her hands, she stared up at the ceiling, knowing she should make him stop, that she should pull away, but she couldn’t. She was naked in his office, her thighs spread wide on his mahogany desk, and her boss—the playboy desired by women far more beautiful than she—was lapping her with his tongue until she thought she would explode.

  And then she did. She heard a loud cry and realized it had come from her own mouth. For a few seconds afterward all she could do was breathe, and Nikos took her in his arms, holding her close as he whispered endearments. Anna realized that he wasn’t even all the way naked. But he was all the way hard. She could feel that through his tailored pants, pressing against her. And yet he wasn’t trying to make love to her.

  Why not?

  She started to stroke him through the fabric, but he caught her hands. His eyes, looking down at her, were vulnerable. “Marry me, Anna. Be my wife.”

  Yes.

  Yes.

  God, yes.

  “I can’t.” It felt horrible to say. Ungenerous and so, so wrong. And it wasn’t what she wanted. Especially when it made him abruptly pull away. “We can raise our son together, but I can’t marry you, Nikos. It would never work.”

  “So you say.” He pulled away from her and without even looking in her direction started to put on his shirt.

  She sat up, still naked, feeling dizzy. “Don’t you understand? We’d never be happy together.”

  “No, I don’t understand. I see only a spoiled woman who is determined to toss away happiness with both hands.”

  “You don’t love me—” she started, praying he would argue.

  Instead, he cut her off with, “And you don’t love me.” His face, so warm and loving just moments before, now expressed icy contempt. “But we both love our son. I am trying to do what’s best for him. I wish you would do the same.”

  “I am!” she said, stung.

  “Right.” He rapidly buttoned up his shir
t. “What have I done to make you hate me, Anna? What did I do that was so horrible? What have I ever done except try to take care of all of us? One of us has to take responsibility for the family we’ve created. Especially since you obviously don’t give a damn.”

  “Wait—that’s not true—you know it’s not true!”

  His lip curled as he turned to go. “I’m going to go find Sinistyn and handle him once and for all. Before he talks his way into becoming Michael’s stepfather. Because apparently you have a problem telling him no. Unlike me.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you. I just don’t want you to get involved.”

  “Too late.”

  “It’s not your problem, it’s mine. I should be the one to—”

  “My God, you really don’t trust me at all, do you? No matter what I do or say, you won’t accept my help. You’d rather fight me. You’d rather put both yourself and our son in danger.” He stopped in the doorway. “I always admired you, Anna. A pity the good sense you have as a secretary is lacking in you as a woman.”

  His words struck her to the bone. His face was in shadow as he added quietly, “Look through the résumés, Anna. Find me a new secretary. When I come back, give me a name. I’m done fighting with you.”

  * * *

  Nikos was grim as he rode in the back of his limo, poring through documents about the last-minute details of the Singapore land lease bid as his chauffeur drove him back to the casino.

  He’d lost his temper.

  He never lost his temper.

  Damn it, Anna was really starting to get to him. He’d accused her of letting her emotions run her reason, but he had just done the same.

  The way he’d shouted at her. It made him wince now. It had not gone according to plan. Yelling at her was no way to make her fall in love. Even he knew that.

  He sighed, leaning his head against the darkened glass and staring out at the empty, barren landscape as the Nevada desert flew by. He’d felt so close. His soul had soared when he’d felt her tremble beneath his tongue. He’d felt sure that she would say yes to his proposal. Why else had he restrained himself, when he could think of nothing but having her in his bed? He’d said that he wanted to make love to her only as his wife, and that was still true.

  He ground his teeth. Forget those stupid scruples. He only had twenty-four hours to close the deal. Next time he wouldn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t relent. He’d seduce her, and he’d get both his satisfaction and her agreement to his proposal. And before she had a chance to change her mind he’d take her straight to one of the all-night wedding chapels and get it all nailed down.

  He glanced at the document still in his briefcase. His lawyers had already drawn up the standard prenuptial agreement: if the marriage should end, both parties would end up with what they’d started with. Leaving Anna virtually penniless.

  He didn’t intend for her to suffer. On the contrary, he meant for her to live in luxury. He’d even keep her snooty mother in Hermès handbags. Anything to make Anna happy. The prenup was for one reason only—to make sure that Anna would never have any incentive to walk away from their marriage.

  He twisted his neck, cracking the joints to relieve the stress, and revised his tattered game plan. Tonight was his last night to close the deal. After he’d finished with Sinistyn he’d go straight home, make love to Anna until she couldn’t see straight, and then she’d sign the prenup. Then they’d go to the courthouse for a license and, from there, a drive-thru chapel.

  He flexed his hands, trying to make himself relax. Anna was getting under his skin—probably because they were spending so much time together, blending home and work. It had been wonderful, in a way, having her back in the office. Best damn secretary he’d ever had. Together they were the perfect team. Unbeatable.

  No. He pushed the thought away. He’d already made up his mind, and tonight it would be done. He’d get a new secretary, take Anna as his wife, and keep his home and work life separate—the way they were supposed to be. He’d enjoy Anna at night, see his son every day, and go back to putting in eighteen-hour days at the office. That was the life that made sense to him. That was a life he could control.

  But Anna had to marry him. Without that everything else fell apart.

  Rubbing his hand against his forehead, he sighed. It was time for him to play his last card. He had no choice. He was leaving for Singapore tomorrow, to meet with government officials and make sure Stavrakis Resorts’ land lease bid was successful. The new casino resort would be an important asset in his son’s fortune.

  But first he had to close the deal with Anna.

  He would tell her he loved her.

  He’d never said the words before—to anyone. And even tonight it would be a lie. He would lie to make her capitulate, to make her love him in return. He’d told himself that he’d never say those three words to anyone, but he’d give up that tiny slice of honor now. He’d do far more than that to protect his family.

  He’d tell her he loved her, and make her believe it. He had to convince her he meant it. Convince her he’d make a good husband. Convince her he was worthy of her love, even if it all was a lie…

  He had a sudden memory of Anna in his bed, naked, with tousled hair and a sweetly seductive smile, looking up at him with honest, trusting eyes.

  He shook the disturbing image away. As his chauffeur pulled up to the private garage on the third level parking deck of L’Hermitage, he focused instead on his meeting with Victor Sinistyn, whom he’d called on the drive into town.

  He couldn’t blame the man for wanting Anna for himself. Nikos ground his teeth as he strode into his private elevator. Any man would want Anna. But Sinistyn had gone too far, trying to force her into a marriage against her will. Trying to buy her through trickery and putting pressure on her family.

  Images of Anna went through his mind: laughing in the pool last week, splashing with their child, smiling up at Nikos in the bright sunlight. She was so beautiful, so vibrant, so warm and alive. How dare Sinistyn try to imprison her? How dare he try to seize by manipulation and force something he had no right to call his own?

  “It’s time you picked on someone your own size,” Nikos muttered under his breath as he entered his private office.

  “What was that, sir?” Margaret, the senior administrative assistant for the casino, was filling in on some rudimentary duties as his executive secretary. She temporarily sat in Anna’s old desk outside his office.

  “Please let me know when Victor Sinistyn arrives.” Closing the door behind him, he went to the outside windows and stared down at Las Vegas Boulevard, watching the hectic traffic below. He went to the crystal decanter and started to pour himself a small bourbon, then stopped.

  Was it possible that he was doing the same thing as Sinistyn? Trying to possess Anna when he had no right?

  No, he told himself fiercely. It wasn’t the same at all. Sinistyn was trying to force Anna to marry him to satisfy his own selfish lust. Nikos just wanted to protect his family. To protect his son.

  But still, the voice of conscience, rusty from disuse, whispered in his mind, you’re going to make her fall in love with you on false pretenses, to bind her to you forever. Isn’t that just as bad?

  He tried to shake the thought out of his mind, but it wouldn’t go away. He paced back and forth through his office, trying to concentrate on Sinistyn, the Singapore deal—anything but his plans for Anna. In the end he gave up, and pummeled the boxing bag in the corner of his office with his bare hands to clear his mind. The pain helped him forget. Helped him focus.

  There was blood on two knuckles when he went over to the wall of one-sided windows that overlooked the main casino floor. He glanced down, impatiently looking at his watch. Sinistyn was two minutes late.

  Then his eyes sharpened.

  Sinistyn wasn’t late. He was already in the casino downstairs, beneath the high crystal chandeliers, in between the gilded nineteenth-century columns and wealthy, attractive gamblers at the roulette t
ables and slot machines.

  He wasn’t alone, either. He’d brought two hulking bodyguards from his club. But he wasn’t talking to them.

  He was talking to Anna.

  Anna. Still wearing the slim white shirt and black skirt, but sexier than ever, with her long, long legs and glossy black pumps. Her dark hair, which he’d mussed so thoroughly nearly making love to her on his desk, cascaded down her shoulders. Her lips were full, pink and bruised, as if she’d just come from bed.

  She was too enticing—innocence and sin wrapped up into one luscious package.

  Nikos cursed under his breath. She’d defied his direct orders and come down here to intercept Sinistyn. He clenched his jaw. From this distance he couldn’t read the expressions on their faces. What was she saying to him? What was he saying to her? His hands clenched into fists as he strode out of his office to the elevator.

  When he reached the casino floor he signaled Cooper, his head of security, to follow with two bodyguards. Trailing bodyguards in his wake, he stalked through the noise of slot machines and gamblers toward Anna and Sinistyn, barely able to keep his fury in check.

  Why couldn’t she trust him to handle things? Not even once? Why did she always have to make everything so damned hard?

  “Sinistyn,” he said coldly, grabbing the man’s shoulder. “Let’s go upstairs to talk.” He gave Anna a look. “Leave.”

  “I’m staying,” she said, raising her chin.

  He heard Sinistyn snicker under his breath. Nikos ground his teeth. “Let me handle this.”

  “This isn’t your fight. It’s mine.” To Nikos’s shock, she turned to Victor Sinistyn and put her hand on his hairy arm, looking deep and soulfully into his eyes. “Victor, I’m sorry this has gone so far. It’s my fault.”

  “About time you came to your senses, loobemaya. I’ve waited long enough for you to be my wife.” Looking up from her cleavage with a triumphant half-smile, he locked eyes with Nikos. “About time you chose the better man.”