Ruthless Revenge: Sinful Seduction: Demetriou Demands His Child / Olivero's Outrageous Proposal / Rafael's Contract Bride. Кейт Хьюит
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‘Where is my father?’ Iolanthe asked Lukas.
‘He’s coming shortly. He wants us to wait.’
Iolanthe sighed, wanting only to go home to bed. The excitement of attending her first ball had gone completely flat now that she knew she wouldn’t see Alekos again. She was Cinderella minus a glass slipper, and soon she’d be left in rags with a pumpkin for a carriage. And Lukas for a husband. She suppressed a shudder at the thought.
Lukas checked his phone, frowning. ‘Your father needs me in a meeting.’
‘A meeting at two in the morning?’ Iolanthe knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Her father had always worked long hours. He often stayed in Athens for months at a time, returning to his country estate only for the most cursory of visits.
‘I’ll be back shortly,’ Lukas told her. ‘You should wait inside.’
Disheartened beyond all measure, Iolanthe watched Lukas stride away before she turned back to the hotel’s opulent lobby. With her feet aching in her new shoes and her body throbbing disconsolately from the memory of Alekos’s touch, she felt more alone than she had in a long while. More lonely, and with nothing to look forward to.
She was about to sink into one of the elegant armchairs gracing the marble-floored space when her whole body stiffened with awareness, every sense coming exquisitely alive as Alekos walked out of the hotel’s bar.
She started towards him instinctively, one hand outstretched, her sense of loneliness evaporating in the sudden, demanding need to see him, speak to him, touch him—
Iolanthe didn’t care how reckless or desperate she seemed to him or anyone else. She had waited her whole life, and in that moment she was sure it had been for this. For a future that didn’t look like a prison cell, a possibility of excitement and adventure. For Alekos.
* * *
Alekos had spent the last two hours drinking steadily in the hotel’s bar. So much so that while he wasn’t precisely drunk, he questioned the vision of loveliness in front of him, thinking he must have imagined Iolanthe into being. He’d certainly been thinking about her enough, though he’d tried not to.
He’d watched from the edge of the ballroom as she’d danced with that wet blanket of a keeper, a man who seemed ill at ease in his own body, shuffling his feet and holding Iolanthe awkwardly.
Then when Alekos could bear no more he’d headed for the bar. He couldn’t stand seeing Iolanthe with anyone, even someone as unthreatening as her buffoonish dance partner. He couldn’t shake the deep-seated feeling that she was his, that no one else could touch her. He’d been her first kiss, and he wanted to be even more. Somehow Iolanthe, this innocent sprite, had branded herself on his soul, reminded him of what he’d once been like, what life was like when you held on to happiness and hope. When you believed good things could happen.
And now she was here, real and alive, her face suffused with happiness at the mere sight of him.
‘Alekos...’ Iolanthe whispered, her mouth curving into a smile of pure joy as she reached out one hand to touch him.
Alekos responded instinctively to her unhidden response, even as he acknowledged that she made no sense. He was a stranger who wanted her body. Didn’t she realise that? Didn’t she understand how dangerous he was to her well-being?
Alekos wrapped his hand around hers to keep her from touching him, and realised instantly that he’d made a mistake. Instead of pushing her away, he merely pulled her closer, finding it impossible to resist her enchanting allure.
‘I thought you’d left.’ His voice came out low and gravelly, harsh with wanting.
‘No, not yet.’ She spoke in a breathless whisper, her eyes shining. ‘I’m so happy to see you again.’
Briefly Alekos closed his eyes. Iolanthe had no idea what such heartfelt honesty did to him. ‘Iolanthe...’
‘When I didn’t see you at the ball, I thought you’d tired of me.’ She nibbled her lip, appalled realisation swamping her eyes. ‘That is, you haven’t, have you...?’
‘No. I haven’t.’ Although God knew he should have. She was inexperienced, innocent, dull. For both their sakes she had to be. The alternative was breaking her heart and shattering her naïve hopes as he took what he so desperately craved from her and then walked away as he knew he would. As he had to. He took a deep breath. ‘I was just about to go upstairs.’
‘Upstairs?’
‘I have a suite at the hotel.’ For the last four years he’d been living in Corinth, close to his factory and warehouses, making sure security was tight and all technical information highly classified. He would not have an invention stolen from him a second time. Taking a suite for the evening of the ball had been expedient.
‘You do?’ Her eyes widened and Alekos saw the suggestion in them as clearly as if she’d verbalised it. And he realised, to his own shame, that he’d mentioned the suite because he wanted her there. Of course he did.
‘You could come up for a drink,’ he said gruffly, well aware he was plunging down a road he had no business to tread for a single step. One drink. A kiss or two. And then he would let her go. For ever.
‘All right,’ she agreed shyly, and Alekos wondered if she even knew what she was getting into...or if he did.
* * *
Iolanthe spared no more than a fleeting thought for Lukas and her father before stepping into the lift with Alekos. Maybe she was being foolish, even stupid. And if not that, then reckless and wanton. Right then she didn’t care. This felt like her only chance at happiness. She and Alekos had a connection; even he acknowledged it.
If she didn’t go with him now, the prison doors would close for ever.
Tonight was for magic.
Alekos ushered her out of the lift and down a long, plushly carpeted hall, before he swiped his key card at the door at the end, and then swung the door open to reveal a luxurious suite with floor-to-ceiling views of the Acropolis.
Iolanthe’s breath came out in a rush as she stepped into the open-plan living area of the elegant space, barely noticing the leather sofas and ebony and teak coffee tables as awareness rippled over her skin and alarm twisted in her stomach.
What was she doing here?
‘A drink,’ Alekos said, and went to the minibar tucked in a corner of the room. Iolanthe dropped her bag and mask on a nearby sofa, unease and excitement warring within her. This was dangerous, crazy—and also incredibly exciting. Common sense told her she should bolt, and yet she stayed put. She couldn’t bear the thought of the evening ending, the doors slamming shut on her future. And she wanted Alekos to kiss her again.
Alekos took a bottle of champagne from the little fridge and held it out to her. ‘Seems appropriate, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose.’ She’d only tasted champagne a few times in her life.
Alekos popped the cork, the sound a mini explosion in the stillness of the room, and then poured them each a flute. He handed one to Iolanthe and she took it with numb fingers. ‘Gia sou.’
‘Gia sou,’ she whispered, and drank. The bubbles fizzed up her nose, making her cough. Alekos arched an eyebrow and Iolanthe tried for a laugh. ‘Sorry. I never seem to get the hang of champagne.’
‘Innocent in this as in everything else.’
Something about his tone made her prickle defensively. ‘I can’t help being innocent.’
‘Well I know it.’
She cocked her head, noting the way his eyes had narrowed and his mouth had firmed. Did he not want her here? Did he regret asking her up? She couldn’t bear the thought. ‘What is it?’ she asked unsteadily. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Because