“Leverage?” He scoffed. “To what end? Money? Is that really all you care about? What about your pride and self-respect?”
She flinched. “He goes to Fjord Academy. It’s …”
“I am familiar with it,” he cut her off impatiently.
“Then you might also know that the fees are exorbitant.”
“So change him to another school.”
“I can’t do that to him!” She was exasperated and desperate. “He doesn’t deserve to suffer because no one loved him enough to make the right decisions.”
Her words struck a chord and he spun around, enflamed to defend his deceased father. “You mean my father never cared enough, I presume? You are judging him for not loving a child some woman burdened him with?”
“Not some woman,” Elle interjected with the appearance of calm, though it cost her dearly. “Some woman he slept with. What would you do if I got pregnant after last night?”
He ignored the emotional response to such an idea, but immediately an image of her rounding out with his child in her stomach flashed before his eyes. “We used protection.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Accidents happen.”
“Theos, is this your plan?”
“No.” She felt sick at the idea. “Absolutely not. Don’t be disgusting. I would never do that.”
“But your mother did?”
Elle wished she could have denied it, but in truth, knowing her mother, it wasn’t such an easy proposition. “I don’t know,” she whispered finally. “It might have been a genuine accident. Maybe she hoped to get pregnant.”
Christos made a noise of disapproval.
“But he chose to sleep with her. This was both of their responsibilities. And he never owned it. What would you do? If that was me? Or another woman?”
A muscle jerked in his cheek. A thousand memories swarmed him, threatening to bury him beneath their persistent weight. Learning to sail with his father, following him around the estate and listening to stories of his father’s father, swimming together. He thought of the father who had always attended important events in Christos’s life and shook his head. That man would never have turned his back on his own kin. “I will need to see this alleged DNA test.”
It was something. “Of course. I can send a copy to you.”
“Send a copy to me? From where.”
“My flat. I … everything’s there.”
“You didn’t think to bring it?” He asked scathingly.
Feeling utterly stupid, she shook her head miserably.
“Where is your flat?” He asked, the words grim.
“New York.” She was surprised he hadn’t worked that much out for himself.
There was a long beat of silence; his eyes locked to hers, his expression was inscrutable. Elle had spent the night with a man whose passions were written all over his face and body; in the breaths he whispered down her spine and the kisses he planted across her flesh. Now? He was a mystery to her. “Forget it.” The words were cold. “I don’t need it.”
“Why not?” Panic stirred inside of her. Had he changed his mind? Would he refuse to help?
He didn’t respond immediately. He walked purposefully into the kitchen and poured a fresh coffee from the silver pot. It was thick and dark; it filled the mug as tar might a hole in the road. “How much longer does your brother have at school?”
“Three years.” She held her breath, trying desperately not to get her hopes raised.
“Whether he is my father’s son or not, I am prepared to come to a new arrangement with you,” he said finally, draining his coffee and placing the cup down on the bench with cold detachment.
“He is your half-brother,” she insisted through gritted teeth.
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear that now. My offer does not hinge on the truth of your assertion.”
Elle pressed her fingers lightly to her temple. “I’m surprised,” she said finally. “I thought you would fight me tooth and nail. Christos, you have to believe me, if this had mattered less I would never have contemplated anything devious or dishonest. I’m really, honestly glad that you can look past that to help him. If you knew Filip…”
He held a hand up to silence her. “Stop. No talk of your brother. And you may not find the terms of the deal to your liking. But this is the only offer I am prepared to make. You may … take it or leave it.”
And now her heart began to thud so slowly that she wondered if it might stop. “What terms?” She prompted after the feeling of electric shock had jolted her into speaking.
His smile sent shivers down her spine. “In exchange for paying the remainder of your brother’s fees and creating a small trust fund for his eventual use, I will require three guarantees from you.”
She lifted her brows to urge him to continue but her whole insides seemed to tremble like jelly.
Christos Rakanti, billionaire tycoon, spoke as though negotiating the purchase of a building. “Silence will be required. From both you and this child. If my mother ever heard so much as a whisper of this, she would die.” His look was loaded with hatred and Elle fought the temptation to point out that none of this was her doing; she had played no part in the affair that had begot Filip. “My father died last week.” For a second he closed his eyes and when he opened them she glimpsed the man she’d shared a bed with; he was human, and he was hurting. But it was a tiny crack in an otherwise implacable façade. “You will not ruin the happy memories she has of my father with this foul accusation.”
“I told you, it’s not an accusation. And as for Filip, he has no idea who his father is. That was part of the original deal.”
Again he lifted a hand to silence her. “I am not interested in your explanations. So far as you and I are concerned, we do not need to talk about this again. Your brother does not exist to me. Nor will he ever.”
“How can you be so cold?” She said, shocked to the bottom of her stomach. “He’s your flesh and blood. Aren’t you even the least bit curious as to what he’s like?”
“No. I honour and respect my father far too much to ignore his wishes.”
“You don’t know what his wishes were! Until ten minutes ago you didn’t even know you had a brother.”
“On the contrary, I know that if my father had wanted me to know of this bastard, he would have told me of his existence. He didn’t want this child, and nor do I.”
Elle didn’t realise that tears were streaming down her cheeks. But how could she not cry? Her heart was breaking for the boy she’d basically raised. “Fine.” She dashed at her eyes and nodded. “That’s your loss.”
“Unlikely.” It was a sneer that might as well have been a knife to her heart.
“And the other two requirements?” She reminded him, wanting him to outline his terms so that she could agree to whatever he said and get the hell away from him.
“That’s simple.” He leaned forward, his expression unfathomably menacing. “I want you. In my home. In my bed. And under my control.”
She stared at him, waiting for the punchline. For surely it was some cruel joke? “No.”
“Then no deal,” he shrugged.
Her eyes flashed with grief. “Please, if you knew him, you’d understand. He’s had such a difficult life. But at school, he’s just … he has such potential.”
He shook his head. “You’re forgetting the first term. Do not speak to me of him. I don’t wish to know anything about him. I will pay his fees if you agree to be mine.”
A shudder of revulsion spread through her. The way he spoke of her was in the same manner he’d referred to the piano; as an asset he wanted for the sake of acquisition.
“And the third term?” She whispered, dropping her eyes shut.
“You will go, when I tire of you, without complaint and without emotional drama.” He crossed around the island, putting his strong hands on her shoulders. Hands that had brought her inexplicable pleasure. “And I will tire of you, agape mou.” It was as though he was making the pr
omise to himself as much as to her.
Her heart was breaking.
“So?” He prompted, studying her with a lazy insolence. “Do you love him enough to agree? Do you stay, for your brother?”
“Your brother,” she reminded him. An image of Filip flashed into her mind and she nodded. “In a heartbeat. And if you knew him, you’d understand why.”
“Look. Isn’t that the guy you know?”
Elle lifted her weary eyes towards Hannah. She was gesturing at a poster across the street. The traffic of Athens had breathed smog over its face, and she could just make out the name ANDRE in big, white letters. “So it is.” Her dark mood lifted slightly as she thought of her friend and mentor. “He must be releasing a new album. No. He’s on tour.”
Hannah’s look was pointed. “That could be you, you know …”
Elle stopped the conversation in its tracks. “I can’t have that old argument now. I’ve got too much to think about.”
“I can’t believe you’re actually going to go through with this. You hate this guy. You hate everything the Rakanti family stands for. You always have.” Hannah turned her attention to the very prickly issue at hand.
“I don’t hate him,” Elle denied, her cheeks flushed as she tried to search for a better word to describe what she felt for the handsome tycoon.
“Well, you used to and you still should.”
Elle shook her head. “He’s as much a victim in this as my brother. He was blindsided by the facts. There’s no way he knew about this.”
Hannah snorted. “I don’t buy that.”
“Either way, it doesn’t matter. I got what I came for, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t meant to be like this. You were meant to be in charge, reading him the riot act. He was meant to give you the money in exchange for your silence, not …”
“You and I both know my threats would have been empty. I would never have sold a sleazy tabloid story.”
“Of course I know that. But he doesn’t. So he would never have known the threat was just that.”
“It’s done,” Elle said firmly. “We’ve made an agreement and I’m sticking to it.”
Hannah swore under her breath. “You can’t.”
“I have to, and you of all people know why.”
Hannah toyed with her earring. She hated this Christos Rakanti enough for the both of them, even if she’d never met him. “He’s treating you like shit.”
“I know that.” Elle swallowed down the bile. “I don’t care. He’s going to get bored of me soon enough,” she said with a confidence she was far from feeling. “We both know his attention span for women is as long as a supermodel’s at a buffet.”
Hannah groaned. “God, this is all my fault. I should never have sent that stupid text.”
“No! How could you have known? Don’t beat yourself up.”
“I’d beat him up if he was standing here,” Hannah said angrily. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Elle nodded. “Filip’s not on break for another month or so. He doesn’t even need to know, okay? Just do me a favour and forward me any communication from the school. They should send a receipt once he’s … once Christos has transferred the amount.”
“Then you can come home!” Hannah said, putting an arm around her friend’s shoulders.
“Maybe.” Elle was non-committal. She couldn’t do anything that would jeopardise their pact. “I need him to commit to pay the next three years of Filip’s education, remember.”
“You’re not going to stay with him until Filip finishes school,” Hannah demanded with appalled outrage.
Elle’s laugh was shaky. The idea terrified her, didn’t it? So why had her heart soared? It was adrenalin; that was all. “Of course not. He’s going to send me packing within days,” Elle promised, crossing her fingers and telling herself she hoped it was true.
Hannah pulled a face but Elle forestalled any further conversation. “I have to go. I told him I’d only be an hour.”
“You’re acting like a prisoner,” Hannah said disapprovingly.
Elle blinked at her friend and then stood, lifting her heavy suitcase to her side. “Isn’t that what I am?”
4
“And so the lamb returns to the slaughter,” he murmured, opening the front door inwards and stepping back to allow her through. He fought the urge to take the luggage she held. She deserved no such respect. Though watching her balance herself with her other arm as she moved into his hallway filled him with a sense of pity.
“Just slaughter me fast,” she snapped, placing the bag down. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned to face him, looking every bit as innocent and young as she’d been that morning.
“Oh no,” he murmured, closing the distance and putting his hands around her. “Where would the fun be in that?” His smile was cold. “I like to play with my prey.” He ran a finger down her cheek, watching her eyes darken with emotions and need. “I want to make sure you understand that you tried to wrong me. And no one gets away with that.”
She rolled her eyes, desperately trying to evince bravado when she was shaking like a leaf. “You sound like some kind of mobster.”
He lifted one side of his mouth in a lazy smile. “Do I?”
She nodded and he stepped back.
She realised, belatedly, that he was wearing a suit. He looked stunning. Then again, he was stunning. “I’m going out.”
“You are?” Relief was a cone wrapping around her, but her body was cold where his touch had been lifted. She tried not to notice, and not to care.
His laugh was mocking. “Don’t worry, I’ll be home to collect before you know it.”
She blanched as though he’d struck her. Not caring that her eyes were filling with tears, she said with a quiet sense of dignity: “Please don’t speak like that to me. I know you’re angry. And that you’ve been completely shocked by all this. And that you’re being horrible to me so that you feel you have some control over a situation that’s completely out of your control. But I don’t deserve your contempt.”
“I beg your pardon?” He stared at her with obvious disbelief. “You don’t believe you deserve my contempt? You slept with me for the sole purpose of blackmailing me for money.”
“No!” She shook her head, desperate suddenly that he not believe it of her. “It wasn’t like that. I wanted to be with you.”
“Don’t make it worse by lying to me now,” he responded tautly. “I know what motivates you, agape mou. The same thing that undoubtedly motivated your whore of a mother. Money. Plain and simple. So don’t act like I’m not giving you everything you could ever want.”
“If it wasn’t for Filip, I would walk out of here without a backwards glance,” she muttered defiantly. “You should remember that. You have me here, and I’ll do what you want, but you’re the one who’s blackmailing, not me.”
“Because you gave me no choice,” he responded.
“As if! That’s a flimsy excuse for what you’re doing and you know it. You had a choice, just like I did. At least I’m willing to admit I made the wrong one.” She turned her back on him and moved into the kitchen. “If you speak to me with such blatant disrespect I will go.”
“And the deal will be off.”
She hated herself for the words that were forming but she knew she had to utter them. Apparently without a threat hanging over his head he would be making this impossible for her. “You’re forgetting that I have a DNA test and a contract signed by your father. If you don’t honour the terms of our agreement, I’ll make public the truth.” It was a lie. She would never do it to Filip, nor to Christos’s mother, but Christos had no way of knowing that.
“You are a piece of work,” he said in disgust. “But a clever one.” He paced towards her menacingly. “This is it, though. This isn’t a blank cheque you can keep writing. When I’m done, I’m done.”
“I wouldn’t touch a cent from you if I were one day from starving to death,” she promised
angrily, her hands itching to push at his chest. “I don’t want anything from you or your father.” She spat the word with vitriol.
“Fine.” He controlled his emotions with effort, assuming a mask of arrogant confidence. “I’ll be back tonight.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she simpered, batting her lashes at him in an imitation of a coquettish damsel.
“I know.” He turned on his heel and stalked from the kitchen, leaving her utterly shell-shocked.
But Elle had experience with shock and confusion. She knew that the best thing to do when flying out of control over any speed-bump life presented was to keep busy. She lugged her suitcase up the stairs to the room they’d shared the night before. The bed bore the signs of their lovemaking; the sheets were tangled at the feet and the pillows were tossed across the room.
She sorted that out first, neatly tucking the sheet into place and then arranging the quilt over the top. She settled the pillows as one might find in a luxurious hotel, with the European squares against the wall and the fluffy, duck down pillows in front. The cushions she placed artfully and then stepped back to admire her work. Perfect. No one could ever have imagined the pleasure the bed had witnessed only hours earlier.
It was harder to be matter-of-fact about the bathroom. When she walked in she felt like she’d been punched in the gut. It was glorious. The view of the city remarkable. But all she could remember was how it had felt to be wrapped around his waist, feeling him move deep inside of her.
She hung the towels up and moved the toiletries into a neat row along the mirror, then turned her attention to her suitcase.
The bulk of weight in her bag was books. She’d brought several with her, much to Hannah’s amusement. But Elle didn’t like to be without a book on hand, and she was in the middle of six particularly good ones.
As for clothes, she’d only packed enough for a weekend, and none of the outfits were particularly impressive. Another pair of jeans, two more shirts, a swimming costume, a sun dress and some very utilitarian pajamas and underwear comprised the total of what she had at her disposal. It was safe to say then that seduction would be off the menu.