Kitabı oku: «Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks», sayfa 15

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.”

“But you already know that I don’t care about anyone but myself, don’t you?” she bluffed, swallowing the bile that rose through her.

She couldn’t betray the depth of pain that she held at bay every day thinking of her grandfather, of knowing he was close by but not seeing him.

Guilt ate through her insides. But she had no recourse except to threaten Stavros like this. She forced a smile, her cheeks hurting at her continued pretense. “If you don’t want me to drag the Sporades name and the Katrakis name through mud, you will have to agree.”

She opened the door and looked at him again, feeling truly afraid for the first time. She had gambled on the one person that she loved with all her heart. She could never hurt her grandfather. Even speaking about it like this was cutting her in two. But she had to make sure Stavros would believe her capable of it. “You will have to release those funds and you have to cut the strings you hold over my life. The choice is yours, Stavros.”

“I thought I knew the depths of selfishness you could sink to, but you always manage to surprise me, Leah.”

Desolation filled her at the utter resignation in his voice. That he believed her bluff didn’t fill her with relief or gratitude however. Only painted a picture of what her life would be like with him.

And thinking of being caught in a circle of hatred and hero worship, she didn’t have to try to sound like she didn’t care. “What’s new about that, Stavros? And who knows? Once I’m out of your life, you might even thank me for it.”

Without stopping for even a breath, she rushed out of the bedroom and through the corridors, her legs barely holding her up.

She made it to the main deck before she collapsed onto the floor and clutched her knees. Leaning her head against her knees, she fought to corral her uneven breathing.

The very real possibility of Stavros still not believing what she had threatened sent a shaft of fear through her.

Her nape prickled as she heard someone approach, and instantly, she straightened her shoulders. She couldn’t afford to let him see her like this… He would know that she had been bluffing. And she would be worse off than she had started today.

Breathing hard, she composed herself and looked up.

His hip lolling against the bar counter in casual elegance, Dmitri watched her with gray eyes. “Hello, Leah.”

Shuddering, Leah swallowed the hard knot in her throat.

She couldn’t break down now, not when Stavros was so close.

A daring mockery in his gaze, Dmitri extended a hand to pull her up.

Leah grabbed his hand and pushed herself to her feet.

His hands were callous but didn’t leave her shaking like Stavros’s grip had done. His mocking gaze didn’t compel her to react nor did his arrogant perusal leave her off balance and breathless. She didn’t feel compelled to be better than she was, or to give up in frustration because nothing would ever change, as she did with Stavros.

She didn’t feel anything except questionable warmth at seeing a familiar face.

Why Stavros of all men? Was she that much of a sucker for pain?

“I can see that you’re—” Dmitri’s gaze swept over her “—looking astonishingly well, so I’m not going to ask how you have been.”

Set against Stavros’s lacerating contempt, there was a slumbering, almost comforting quality to Dmitri that had always put her at ease. Looking into the bottomless depths of Dmitri’s eyes now, she wondered how much of that warmth was a deceptive facade.

“Come, I’ll take you home. Stavros will thank me for stopping his precious wife from getting arrested for indecent exposure.”

Leah shivered, only barely stopping herself from covering her chest with her arms. Hearing herself referred to as Stavros’s wife, even the mention of that bond that tied them together made her queasy inside, and Dmitri knew it.

Straightening her shoulders and resolutely holding her arms down, she glared at him. “Then he shouldn’t have dumped me in that monstrous tub of yours.”

His laughter swathed her. Leah ducked, just enough when he threw an arm to pull her to him.

“I’m not playing your games, Dmitri, so back off.”

His eyes warmed up even more. The few times she had come into contact with him, he had at least had a kind smile for her, whether real or fake.

Familiar trust awoke in her, something inside her desperate for a friend after Stavros’s stinging scorn.

Unless it was part of his game to get her to trust him and pump her for information so that he could take it back to Stavros… She sighed, feeling immensely tired and lonely.

“I have missed your sharp tongue all these years.”

“Wish I could say the same, but I don’t have your gift or charm for lying.”

Reaching her, he hooked her arm through his and herded her toward the steps. “Let’s not pretend about your talents. At least not with me.”

Swallowing her fear, Leah dragged her feet. Dmitri saw far more than he let on. As different as they were, his friendship with Stavros was as inviolate as their devotion toward Giannis.

Donning that mask of reckless ignorance, Leah faced him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but I can find my own way, thank you.”

“I heard your conversation, Leah.”

“Then you’re as uncivilized as they say.”

He stared at her with unblinking eyes. “I had the yacht empty in five minutes but I couldn’t leave. I was afraid of what you both would do to each other,” he drawled silkily.

Every time she had seen Giannis with either Dmitri or Stavros, she had felt a yawning chasm in her chest knowing she could never share something like that with her own grandfather. And that it was her choice.

“It doesn’t concern you, Dmitri.”

Grabbing her arm, he turned her. “You’re playing a dangerous game with Giannis’s life, Leah. This is not like one of those antics you used to take up just to make Stavros furious.”

That he had always seen through her ploys unnerved Leah. “All I want is my freedom, Dmitri, a chance to live my life. You get that, don’t you?” she threw back at him, remembering bits and pieces of what Calista had told her about Dmitri’s life before Giannis had plucked him off the streets of London.

“Try a different way then. For once, try to change the dynamic between you two, Leah.”

“How?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “He’s left me no choice. In that moment—” she pointed to the ominously quiet lower deck, her heart pounding in her chest “—it started as a bluff. But I… I don’t know what I’m capable of anymore.”

“Stavros and you are intent on destroying each other.”

“Me destroy Stavros? All the power, all the cards are in his hands, Dmitri. As always.” And the worst part was that she had given it all to him with her irresponsible behavior.

All she had today was the wretched power to hurt Giannis. And Leah was terrified that she would use that power. Desperation turned her words into a pitiful entreaty.

“If you count Stavros as your friend, if you really care about Giannis’s well-being, then convince Stavros that I don’t need his brand of protection anymore. Please, Dmitri.”

Two days later, Stavros and Dmitri were sparring in the ring in the ultra-sophisticated, custom-built gym attached to Dmitri’s Athens apartment.

It had started when Stavros had suggested Dmitri could work his way out of a temper instead of losing it when Giannis had brought him to Athens years ago, morphed into a way for them to resolve arguments when they struggled to keep up with the rigorous, grueling schedule that Giannis set for them.

A habit they had carried into adulthood.

But today, Stavros was the one who felt bloodthirsty, like he was coming apart at the seams.

After two days in which he had been supremely unproductive, he still hadn’t been able to master his reaction to seeing Leah.

You already know that I don’t care about anyone but myself, don’t you?

Her words rang through him, her glittering gaze and her vibrating body etched into his brain.

The brazen curve of her mouth, the reckless shrug with one hand on a bony hip, her dark brown hair drying in curls around that angelic face… Cristo, he still couldn’t believe that…boldly stunning creature had been Leah.

Leah, who had jumped like a live wire when he had touched her without meaning to…

Leah, who, even at a naive sixteen, had somehow always pushed all the wrong buttons in him…

Leah, who was, even now, insidiously unfurling the iron fist with which he ruled his…

No!

Moving his right foot forward, Stavros swung his left hook with a vicious fury. The thwack of his knuckle against Dmitri’s jaw, and the hiss of his exhale, followed by the filthiest curse words reverberated in the quiet.

Shock flashed in Dmitri’s eyes.

That Stavros had gone on the offense when it had always been about letting Dmitri work through one of his tempers, who learned to use his fists on the streets of London amidst gangs, spoke to his ragged control.

“Ding, ding,” Dmitri mocked, dark amusement in his gaze. “Point for Leah Huntington Sporades.”

Gritting his jaw, Stavros shot him a filthy look.

Massaging his jaw with one hand, Dmitri reached for a bottle of water with the other. “In all the years that we have known each other, you have never gone on the offensive. Today’s win has to go to her.”

Knowing how cunningly perceptive Dmitri was, Stavros decided to leave. It had been a miracle in itself that Dmitri had—showing what Giannis would have called uncharacteristic wisdom—left Stavros alone after Leah’s latest stunt.

He didn’t want to discuss Leah, with him of all people.

Dmitri’s jaw was already black and blue, and for once, Stavros enjoyed the result of his loss of control. “Put some ice on it.”

Dmitri stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You’re pushing it too far, Stavros.”

“Leave it alone, Dmitri.” He knew exactly what his friend was talking about.

Moving around him, Dmitri blocked his path. “You went above and beyond what Giannis asked of you. Wash your hands off.”

Giannis, to whom he and Dmitri owed their entire world, had asked for only one thing in return after becoming their salvation when they had been nothing but uneducated thugs.

And Stavros had failed spectacularly at it. “Have you forgiven yourself for everything you have ever done? Or failed to do?”

All emotion seeped out of Dmitri’s face, leaving an uncaring mask in its place. “Do I look like I have been punishing myself for the last decade?”

Stavros made a doubtful sound of assent in his throat. “See you next week.”

“Giannis asked you to protect her, Stavros, ne?” His breath hung in his throat as Stavros waited. “But what I saw two days ago… He should have entrusted me with Leah. I would have seduced her within the day, made her fall in love with me and then cast her aside after a week. She would have learned her lesson.

“But you—”

Stavros curled his hand around his friend’s throat, fury filling every vein. The thought of Dmitri seducing and throwing away Leah made him crazy like a rabid dog he had once put down as a teenager. “She is not one of your party bunnies, Dmitri. She’s…she’s Leah.”

His breathing loud to his own ears, Stavros stilled. Dmitri watched him with hooded eyes, not even trying to shake off his grip. They both knew what he had been about to say.

She is my wife.

When had he become so possessive of Leah? When had she gone from a chain around his neck to something that could incite him like this?

“To see Stavros Sporades’s ironclad control unravel like this… But even a man made of stone would have noticed that gorgeous body. Leah could always get under your skin so easily,” Dmitri continued, frowning, “but now, she has another weapon to wield against you.”

“Enough, Dmitri! I don’t interfere in your life nor pass judgment on it.”

“But Leah is not just any woman. If you’re doing this just because you suddenly have the hots for your little wife—”

“Some days, I don’t know whether to call you friend or foe.”

Dmitri didn’t even blink. “You are the most honorable man I know, Stavros. Until I met you, I didn’t know what it was. There are days when I still don’t. But Leah’s threat concerns Giannis. You need to make a decision soon.”

“I already made one. Five years ago.”

“Then why have you left her under someone else’s care, kept her at a distance? Either she’s truly your wife or you’re through with her.

“You can’t hang both your lives in limbo as if it was some sort of penance.”

A chill seeped into his skin despite the fact that he was sweating. Stavros let Dmitri go. “What if she hasn’t changed? What if she…”

“Give her a chance at least, Stavros. To prove you right or wrong.”

It was Dmitri that finally left the room.

Everything Dmitri had said was stuff he had already been over a thousand times.

The moment Dmitri had called him, guilt had clung to Stavros.

All his life, he had tried to do his duty by his grandparents, by Calista, by Giannis. He hadn’t let his own fears or wants matter. He had always done the right thing. He knew what he had to do now, knew Leah deserved a chance. And yet, he wavered, for the first time in his life.

Never had his mind or body been so out of sync as it was now.

Five years ago, he had let his anger detract him, and now the intensity of his want for her was a weakness he had never had to deal with before. He wiped his face and looked at himself in the mirror.

He had let nothing but his responsibilities, his sense of duty, guide him his entire life.

Nothing was going to change that, not his reckless, selfish, brazen wife of all people in the world.

CHAPTER FOUR

STANDING AT THE small balcony that offered a view of the colorful Athens evening ahead, Leah looked out.

She had been running for the past hour, the one thing that had always grounded her. Yet, all she felt like was running away, and this time, not looking back.

The panic-fueled urge was like an itch under her skin, a fire in her nerves.

It was a quarter past five and already the cafes and eateries were filling up with locals and tourists alike. Laughter and excited phrases in Greek swirled up through the air. It was a sight that had brought her a smile countless number of times after another long, lonely day. Today, it couldn’t dispel her anxiety even a little bit.

Sighing, she went back inside. The pristine white walls that she had refused to adorn with even a single photo closed in on her and she started pacing.

Why hadn’t she run away before now? Why hadn’t she walked away from Stavros and this…pitiful thing between them that was a marriage, and not looked back?

Had she been so lonely to cling to this familiar world even knowing that she could never be close to her grandfather in the way it mattered? Had even Stavros’s punishment been better than facing a life alone in the world?

She would never forgive herself for the part she had played in it, but, to this day, she had no idea that Calista had been using. Had no idea that hiding Calista’s involvement in everything Stavros had abhorred about Leah would go that far.

Had no idea what it was about Stavros that made the worst parts of her manifest so well.

Impulse and fear making her movements jerky, she reached her closet and pulled out a shoulder bag that had collected dust from sitting unused for so long. Grabbed a few clothes and threw them in the bag.

For two days, she had waited calmly, taking Philip’s advice to not do anything rash. Had waited for the explosion from Stavros to come. Had barely slept a wink, was driving herself crazy.

She couldn’t wait to see if Stavros would take her bait. She would have to cut her ties, beginning with this flat and her job.

Just as she grabbed her phone, it pinged and the name Stavros popped up on her screen.

Leah dropped it with a gasp, her heart jamming in her throat. Perspiration condensed on her forehead as she stared down at the phone on the dull carpet.

It pinged again, jolting her out of her haze. She swiped it open to the text.

Come down to the café in ten minutes. I have an offer for you.

An offer? Could she trust him? Had she finally got through to him?

Will scream if I see your ‘security guys.’

She waited, her breath hanging in her throat.

Enough drama, Leah. Come down or I come upstairs.

The thought of Stavros invading her private space, as much of a jail as it was, sent her fingers flying over the phone.

Fine, see you in a bit.

Feeling more hopeful than she’d been in months, she was about to step into the shower when it pinged again.

Leah…Dress appropriately.

Leaning against the bathroom wall, she made an utterly juvenile face at the phone. The small space thundered with the boom of her heart.

Stavros was here because he had bought her bluff. It wouldn’t do to let on how petrified she was inside, to let him set the tone for this conversation.

It was like a mask she had to wear and the more she did it, the more it felt like she would become that uncaring, selfish person that he had always despised.

He had said ten minutes.

By the time he spied her crossing the street from her building to the café, it was well over half an hour. In true Leah form, she had also blatantly disregarded his last text.

The peach-colored silk blouse pressed against her body, neatly delineating the globes of her high breasts as a gust of wind blew across the street. He saw her shiver and grab the edges of the long-sleeved cardigan together.

Heat uncoiled under his own skin, a soft, sinuous gathering of something molten.

The silk blouse was paired with an even more flimsy pair of shorts that showcased her long legs. The glint of a toned thigh muscle, the way her wavy brown hair swept into a high ponytail swung with her long-limbed stride as she walked toward the café in her knee-high leather boots turned more than one male head.

She walked with the innate grace of an athlete, confident in her own skin. There was nothing of the Leah he had married and not because she had grown into her beauty. It was like a fire burned within, one that made her something to behold.

Was it truly as she had claimed and about her career? Or was it a man? Every cell in him went on high alert at the thought.

The last man Leah had been close with had been a crook of the first order—Alex Ralston, who was in jail even now for possession and distribution of drugs.

“When will you learn that defying me only wrecks your own life, Leah?” he said, dragging her down to the seat next to him.

Crossing her legs in a languorous gesture, she curved her pink-glossed mouth in a too sweet smile. “When will you learn that you cannot order me around, Stavros?”

As silky soft as her skin had been to the touch, her pulse had been pounding a thousand beats a minute. She was nervous. And yet, she was doing everything she could to not let him see it.

He waved away the waiter that arrived at their table with a beaming smile for her.

She waved him back with a friendly smile. When he glared at her, she sighed.

“I am hungry, Stavros. I rarely, if ever, eat out so I’m going to pretend you enjoy my company and make the most of it.”

He waited in silence as the young waiter appeared again. Watched in mounting fascination as she ordered three appetizers and two entrees in fractured but perfectly accurate Greek.

“I’m not eating,” he said dismissively as the waiter left.

“I know. It’s Friday evening and you’ll have dinner with Helene Petrou, ex-lover and—” a curse flew from his mouth “—current friend.”

Leaning forward in an elegant move, he pinned her gaze. “How do you know about that?”

“Philip has his resources.”

“So your little lawyer asked you to casually throw that into the conversation?”

“Actually, quite the opposite. He told me not to even betray the fact that I knew anything about her,” she said with that blunt and reckless honesty.

Stavros settled back slowly.

Leah had zero self-preservation. How was he supposed to believe that she could look after herself?

“Then why did you?”

“I don’t want to wage a war against you, Stavros. It’s… my last choice. I bring it up because I was…shocked to hear her name after so many years. That you see her apparently on a weekly basis.”

“Shocked to learn that I keep in touch with a woman I admire?” he said, choosing his words carefully.

Looking anywhere but at him, she nodded. The fine sheen of color in her cheeks snagged his attention.

Brazen, reckless Leah was uncomfortable?

“I remembered that Calista…she talked so much about you guys. That you were made for each other,” she said, her gaze wandering off into the distance.

The look in her eyes was a compelling blend of pain and ache that Stavros had never seen before. Did she truly mourn Calista that much? “Leah?”

She blinked and then curved her mouth. But the artifice of the action wasn’t lost to him. “You would be free. To be with her.”

“You want me to be with Helene?” he said, shocked.

“Yes.” She took a sip of water, her gaze lingering on him. “Of course, I would prefer it if you were as miserable as you’ve always made me, but if your happiness is the price of my freedom…then so be it.”

“That’s very magnanimous of you, Leah.” The whole conversation was twistedly perverse. “I’m surprised you remember her. Or anything from that time.”

His dig bounced off her. “Her resume is far too impressive to forget. Businesswoman, fashion icon, former model and the best of all, the one who could stand up to Stavros Sporades’s infinitely impeccable standards for a woman.”

He stared at the almost cynical twist of her mouth, something in her tone grating at him. “You have quite the opinion about her.”

“Of course, I do. I was obsessed with…” Coloring, she trailed her gaze away from him. “How successful she was at such a young age.”

He had a curious feeling that it wasn’t what she meant to say. If he compartmentalized his abhorrence for everything Leah represented and his unwise awareness of her every move, he could admit that Leah was funny and resilient as hell.

The more he pondered that, the more he realized how true it was.

Despite losing her father suddenly in a car accident and being thrust into an unfamiliar world that Giannis and he lived in, he had never seen her morose or down.

That same selfishness that he abhorred also lent her a strange strength. It was as if she stood behind a veil that separated her emotions, her very self from the people around her.

“So was all that food to please the waiter?”

“Where are your manners, Stavros?”

“All my finer qualities disappear like a mist when it comes to you, Leah.”

“I was running this afternoon. So all that food is for me.”

Stavros nodded, understanding the toned litheness of her body. “What happened to walking out the flat and the job? To letting your little lawyer loose on me?”

He saw her still for a second before she turned toward him. “I… Philip advised me to not do anything rash.”

“And you listened.” Which meant she trusted him, which meant Stavros needed to know everything about him.

The waiter brought the food and she grabbed a fork. A satisfied sound erupted from her mouth, drawing the gaze and attention of more than one man sitting at the neighboring tables.

She looked up from her food suddenly and blushed. “So what is your offer?”

“I’m proposing a compromise.”

“Nothing you ever suggest is a compromise. It will be your will, only couched in deceptive words. You did the same thing to…”

At the sudden glint in his gaze, Leah fiddled with the fork and looked away.

“To whom?”

Her shrimp suddenly tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Leah swallowed it down with a sip of her water. “To me and Calista, of course, countless times. Anything she proposed, you forbade it.”

Like the time when she had wanted to study art in Paris one year, and when she had wanted to travel to New York with Leah. Like the time when Calista had wanted to start bartending at a nightclub where her friend had worked.

And when he refused her, one of Calista’s rages would begin. Just the memory rattled Leah on a deep level. Calista had had a temper but she had hidden it so thoroughly from her brother.

“For instance?” he added softly, and Leah blinked. “You looked so pained just now, tell me what you were thinking, Leah.”

The inherent command rankled Leah, and yet, beneath it, she sensed his eagerness, his curiosity. That there could be more to Stavros than rules and duty…it threw her.

He had only been in his twenties when she had arrived in Athens, and yet, all she remembered about Stavros was his incredible sense of responsibility and duty toward all of them.

For the first time, she wondered what drove him to it.

Her curiosity tempered her response. “Why do you want to know?”

He blinked now, as if he couldn’t believe that she dared question him. No, it wasn’t that. Dumbfounded, she watched as he struggled to put his thoughts into words. “I… Even though I gave her everything she could ever want, I never understood—” something in her loosened as he visibly swallowed “—why Calista chose to follow your lead, how I failed to protect her.”

The anguish in his gaze sent memories and impressions hurtling through Leah. Her shoulders shook. “I don’t know—”

“Not that I expect you to know the answer, when you’re the one who led her to drugs.”

Her head jerked up.

Arrogant implacability wreathed his features. As if he had realized who he was talking to. As if there could be nothing but contempt between them.

“No, of course not,” she whispered, buffeting herself against the immense hurt his words caused. Leah put her fork down.

Despite all her grand plans and ideas for adventures, Calista had never even lifted a finger in the house. Whereas Leah, whose mother had died giving birth to her, had always done more than her share to help out her dad even from a young age.

My saintly brother has servants for that… It had been her favorite thing to say when Leah would suggest cleaning up or cooking sometimes.

She had been sixteen and afraid and grieving in her own way. How much of her understanding of Calista would hold up today? For a minute, it seemed she and Stavros had found something common in their grief over Calista.