Greek Mavericks: At The Greek's Pleasure. Maisey Yates

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      “It is. It’s a terrible idea, agape. We hate each other. As you have stated many times. Or, more to the point, you hate me. I have no such strong feelings about you.”

      “No,” she said, her tone biting, “you don’t feel anything for me or my father. You simply destroyed us for your own pleasure.”

      “Your father’s company was hemorrhaging money long before I came by to deal with it.”

      “So why didn’t you help him?”

      “That’s a complicated issue, Elle,” he said, his words hard.

      “I don’t have any trouble understanding complexities. Go right ahead and explain.”

      “There is more between your father and I than you know.”

      “Enlighten me,” she said, the words escaping through clenched teeth.

      “Not now. But understand what I’m doing is for a bigger purpose.”

      “Your ego? Honestly, you’re unbelievable. He gave you everything. He loved you best from the beginning,” she said, voicing the words that she never had before. Words she had long believed. “And now you’ve betrayed him for money.”

      “Love,” he spat. “What is love, Elle? Tell me that. Is it what your father feels for you? As he moves you around like a pawn, desperate to put you between me and his queen? Did he love me, or did he see me as another tool he could use? I don’t put any stock in love. It has never done anything for me, so I will hardly defer to it now.”

      Her heart was pounding hard, her throat tight. And she knew what she wanted. She hated herself then, more than she had ever hated him. “What do you want from me?”

      “In the short term? I intend to burn this thing out between us. A fire can’t keep on forever, can it?”

      “Are you suggesting we sleep together while we are away from New York?”

      “I’m doing something much stronger than suggesting.”

      Rage turned to excitement, flickering at the center of her being and radiating outward. The idea of being with him again, of touching him again, made her hands shake. “I didn’t realize you got off on coercing women into your bed.”

      “We both know I didn’t have to coerce you into it at all. Also,” he said, his tone pointed, “we have never made it to a bed.”

      The thought of being in bed with him seemed...luxurious. The chance to explore his body at her leisure, rather than finding herself at the mercy of the explosion that occurred between them every time they touched. The force of it propelled her, made it impossible for her to think, impossible for her to resist. What would it be like to make the decision to have him? To give herself all night to indulge in that long-held desire for him.

      She had always wanted him. And she had hated him for it. She’d been so angry that he was so...untouched. So utterly uninterested. So she’d pushed at him, tried to make him angry if she couldn’t make him want her. She’d taunted him. And finally, she’d decided to taunt him sexually.

      She could remember very clearly choosing the smallest, brightest bikini she could possibly find—one that absolutely clashed with her red hair, but one she felt would get her the attention she desired—to try to catch Apollo’s eye when he came home to the family estate over break.

      He had approached her as she’d gotten out of the pool and she’d felt... Naked. Alive. Afraid. So she’d defaulted to her usual position.

      She could remember turning to him, her lips curled. They’ll let anyone into the estate, won’t they? How my family’s standards have fallen over the years.

      His eyes had blazed then. With anger. And he’d grabbed hold of her arm. She hadn’t been afraid, though. She’d been...electrified.

      He had held her there, looked at her hard, and for one moment, one desperate moment, she had imagined that she had seen lust in his eyes. That she had seen interest. But then, he had released her and turned away, leaving her there as though nothing at all had happened.

      But now, somehow, for some reason, he wanted her, too. This is your chance. To put it behind you once and for all so that you can move on.

      “All right,” she said, ignoring the thrill of excitement that shot through her. “I agree. We have to get back on proper footing so that we can deal with each other as business partners.”

      “You are not my partner.”

      “Whatever. Terminology aside I am agreeing to the idea of an affair. But it has to stay a secret. Can you imagine the scandal? Me. Dating my wicked stepbrother who stole my family legacy after he wormed his way into my father’s good graces.”

      “Of course. I have no interest in parading my intimate association with you in front of the world. As I already said.”

      His words, his tone, rankled. “I find it funny that you speak of it as though you find it distasteful. Of course I do. Everyone who moves in business circles fears you. I can see why I would want to disassociate from you. But not why you would wish to disassociate from me.”

      He arched a brow. “I have a type, Elle. It is not buttoned-up redheads. As you know, gentlemen prefer blondes. Or, in my case, scoundrels prefer blondes, brunettes or redheads so long as they’re willing to part their thighs. I like women who know how to smile. Who know how to have fun. I do not like little harpies who claw at me even as they tear my clothes off.”

      “You like it when I claw at you.”

      Heat flared in his dark eyes and she took that as a win. “I consider this a unique circumstance.”

      She wanted to ask him why he thought heat was exploding between them the way it was. She wanted to ask him if it was ever like this for him and the other women he had sex with. But that would betray her inexperience. And that was something she wasn’t willing to do. She wanted to protect her vulnerable places. Wanted to shield everything she didn’t know from him.

      That was an old defense, and one that she employed daily. She hated asking for help. Hated appearing ignorant.

      Her father was a hard man, and she had always had the impression that he was standing by waiting for her to disappoint him. So she never let him see when she was floundering. Never let him detect one bit of uncertainty in her. She had wrapped herself so tightly in her ironed-on exterior, so careful to never show a wrinkle. She had difficulty letting go of it under any circumstances.

      And if she was determined to never let her father see her sweat that went even more for Apollo.

      That meant she couldn’t ask the questions that were gnawing a hole inside of her. They would just have to go unanswered. It didn’t matter anyway. Nothing was going to come from her association with Apollo. Nothing except freedom from the bizarre hold he had over her—and her life.

      She had spent far too long being preoccupied with him. She would just be glad to have it handled.

      And if she was a little bit...giddy over the thought of some time to deal with the attraction...well, that was normal. People acted СКАЧАТЬ