“I don’t hate how you dress. You do, somehow, own and wear the flimsiest articles of clothing of I have ever seen...”
“That is my style as a designer—light and dreamy bohemian pieces,” she sputtered, affronted.
“...and will probably expire either because of the sun or the cold one of these days, but you always look sexy and sophisticated.”
Little pinpricks of heat awoke all over and her gaze flew to his. He stared right back, as if daring her to challenge his accurate and somehow intimate observation of her style. Or maybe his right to comment on it.
The moment stretched and morphed into something else, a strange heat filling the cabin.
Accepting defeat under the thundering boom of her heart, Leah looked away. She cleared her throat and fingered the fabric of her dress.
“For all my sins, thee mou, I did not dictate how you should be dressed.”
She looked up. “Then she, like everyone else in the world, rightfully believes that you are ashamed of me and decided that her job was to make me somehow worthy of you.”
“Do not push me, yineka mou.” The glitter in his eyes pushed Leah into keeping mute. “Tell me why you relented, Leah.”
She looked away, squirming under his leisurely scrutiny. “I’m being dutiful, cooperative...”
The words trailed on her lips as he started laughing.
It swelled in the decadently silent cabin, crept inside her, filling every yearning space with itself. Scraped against her senses, like a physical thing meant to incite that relentless clamoring in every cell again.
“When you laugh, you almost look human,” she blurted out.
“As opposed to an alien?”
“As opposed to a man whom I’ve never seen to be anything but rigid, autocratic, and driven by duty and responsibility. When was the last time you did something because you wanted to do it and not because your lofty sense of morals said you should do it? Something that’s totally crazy but feels unbearably good? Something that devours you until you have it?”
Lazy interest flickered in his face. Little pinpricks of desire uncurled within her. “What and when was the last time you did something like that?”
Her throat dry, Leah licked her lips. “I ate half a cheesecake that Rosa baked for me last night. It was heavenly.”
That tawny gaze fell to her mouth. And lingered. “Wanting to do something with an utter madness is usually a sign of why you shouldn’t.”
Leah could very well imagine that mouth, beautifully carved and yet cruel, pressing on hers, could feel the liquid desire skitter across her skin.
“Living like that, with no thought to the future or the people around has lasting effects, pethi mou. It’s a choice that has consequences beyond one.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged, something shuttering in his expression.
“How is it that Dmitri and you are such close friends and he didn’t corrupt you at all?” Leah asked.
“Maybe I’m incorruptible.”
The cocky rise of his brows goaded her on. “Maybe,” her heart beat so loud, “the right temptation to corrupt you hasn’t come along.”
The challenge simmered in the air. But terrified as she was, Leah wouldn’t look away. Something about that hard, unyielding arrogance of his shattered her usual defenses, drove her to one risk after the other.
Being in his company made her forget all her fears, she realized with a staggering self-awareness.
Suddenly, he caught her hands and dragged her forward on the seat. Only his hands touched hers, and yet she was aware of every inch of her skin.
“You have been working all kinds of hours this week.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” She searched for something to concentrate on instead of his tight clasp. “Anyway, so do you.”
“Yes, but mine is not grueling, backbreaking work like yours. Rosa tells me you take frequent breaks to stretch and run, so that’s good.” He turned her hands around in his, as if testing the weight and fit of them against his. Slowly resting them back in her lap.
“So you do admit that I know how to take care of myself?”
“I never disagreed that you have the faculty for that. Whether you choose to use it or not...” Uncharacteristic hesitation danced in his face. “Leah, I ordered an army because I thought you would enjoy being pampered for a day. Thought you would like dressing up, have a chance to catch up with others like you. You did say my estate was in the middle of nowhere.”
Warmth swelled in her chest and spilled over. Nothing she said to herself to contain it helped.
She was like the pathetically adorable little puppy that whimpered and promised forever for a little bit of attention and kindness.
Did she thank him for it or did she brazen it out with an inappropriate remark? In the end, she did neither. Just nodded and stood up, suddenly feeling caged in her own skin.
She wanted to, needed to, hate Stavros. And seeing this side of him was slowly but surely eroding the entire foundation of her life.
“What kind of party requires that we stay there for a week?”
“Katrakis Textiles is celebrating its fiftieth year anniversary. Tonight’s grand celebration is to honor everything Giannis has accomplished in the past fifty years. And then we will spend a week with him.”
Katrakis Textiles—Giannis’s legacy for Dmitri, Stavros and her. “I want no part of it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Trembling with panic, Leah locked her hands by her sides, the urge to pound at him rising again.
“I’m not lying about this. Dmitri and you are welcome to it. Now if you could please tell your pilot to turn around and head back to your estate—”
He didn’t even blink. “I won’t. Maybe I forgot to mention it, but this is one of the conditions you have to meet for your freedom, Leah.”
Her throat felt like it was made of glass. “You can’t do this.”
Rising from his seat, Stavros planted himself in her way. He frowned, taking in the trembling of her shoulders, the real flare of panic in her eyes. “Leah, what’s going on?”
Her chin tilted up, her gaze slowly focusing on him again. Jaw gritting, she squared her shoulders. “I don’t want anything to do with Giannis or his legacy. He...rejected my mom without looking back just because she fell in love with my dad. He didn’t even come when she died, he never accepted my dad.”
“He was heartbroken that he had driven your mother away, Leah. And she...she was just as stubborn as him.”
“He loved you and Dmitri more than he ever loved her or me. He took me in because he had no choice after my dad died.”
“He tried to make amends for his mistakes.”
Leah shook her head, forcing the words to come. “He did what he failed to do with my mom, to me. He...he ruined my life by bringing you into it. He took away my freedom by forcing you to marry me.”
“He did not force me, Leah. I owed him everything in my life. I would have made any sacrifice he...”
She recoiled from him as if he had struck her.
Christos! She was a complex puzzle he would need to spend a lifetime to understand.
Beneath the reckless defiance, beneath her constant animosity for him, did Leah want his approval?
“Of course,” she said, her voice trembling. “The great Giannis Katrakis who’s made kings of his godsons, plucked them from poverty and obscurity...and the honorable Stavros Sporades who would do anything for him, to the point of marrying his obnoxious granddaughter...and whose life has been ruined by it?
Mine.
“I’m not an instrument in achieving redemption for Giannis or for you to show your gratitude.”
“You don’t understand how much he longs to—”
“And you do? You understand feelings and fears, Stavros? Even Calista’s death...all it means to you is a failure...Do you ever miss her? Did she ever mean anything to you other than being a responsibility?”
Tight grooves appeared by his mouth, his stunning face white beneath his dark skin. He looked haunted. “I took care of her since she was a crawling toddler. I—”
“You took care of her, you protected her, you bought her clothes and jewelry, but did you ever love her? Does Giannis mean anything to you other than a debt to repay? Am I anything but a penance for your supposed failure? God, it’s like your heart is nothing but stone.”
Pure fury wreathed his features and yet, he didn’t scare Leah. All she wanted was to hurt him for pushing her to this.
First her father, then Calista—they had left her shattered, inconsolable, alone. Yet, somehow she had managed, she had found something she loved and started pouring her heart and soul into it.
She couldn’t risk getting attached to her grandfather, she couldn’t survive another loss.
“Everything you have ever done has been self-serving, and you dare to question me?” he shot back.
“Yes, I dare. You have no fears, no doubts, nothing that holds you back from what you think is right. Don’t pretend like he means something to you.”
“Giannis is the father I never had. He’s been a better mother to me than the one who walked out on us. He has been my family, my friend; he’s everything to me. He came for me based on a small promise my drunkard father roped him into making for some age-old village tradition. If he hadn’t kept his word, I wouldn’t have known kindness or honor. I would have spent my life in poverty and misery. So yes, I would do anything if it means it would bring a smile to his face.”