A humorless smile twisted Stavros’ lips. “You of all people should know one night barely makes a difference to me if I want someone bad enough.”
And that someone, Willow realized dumbly, wasn’t her. Something hollow started to grow inside of her. “I see.” She watched the heiress shamelessly rub herself against Stavros’ side, and she repeated dazedly, “I see.”
The redundancy of her words revealed Willow’s shock, but it was the look in her eyes that disturbed Stavros the most. Something about those eyes made him feel like he was supposed to grasp something, a wisp of an idea that shouldn’t have been able to elude him but did.
There was something about the way she looked at him, something he couldn’t quite name. Was it there to fool him? Was it there to mock him? He couldn’t fucking say at all, and the fact that even now she possessed the power to confuse him – to make him care enough to be confused, dammit – angered Stavros, making his voice harsh and cold as he demanded, “Are we done now?”^^
The question rattled her. No. They were not done. That was what Willow wanted to scream at him. If he really loved her, he should have known that in her heart, they had never ended.
But then…that was why they were like this in the first place, wasn’t it?
Stavros had to learn to love and trust her first. But until that happened, they were exactly what Stavros said.
They were done.
Willow slowly stepped back. “Yeah.” She tried her damnedest to keep her smile in place, but she could feel it dancing shakily on her lips as she said, “We’re done.”
The air of vulnerability around her was unmistakable, but Stavros strove not to let it affect him. “Goodbye then.” He spoke in English this time.
“Oh.” Ingrid faked a sad sigh at the words. “But what about the coffee? Perhaps you could let both of us have it instead?”
“No!” When Ingrid blinked at her, Willow turned red, realizing she had shouted the word. “I’m sorry, I actually lied. These cups weren’t for you.” She was babbling and she couldn’t help it. “I just knocked on Stavros’ door to ask if he had extra milk. I like my cappuccino with more milk than most people care for.”
“Oh, really?” Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Then whose coffee is the second one you’re holding?”
Willow gave Ingrid her best look of surprise. “Duh. Mine of course. Don’t you know? We Greeks like our coffee a lot.” And so doing, she drank the first cup of coffee straight and the second one right after. The liquid scalded her tongue, causing tears to prick her eyes, but she was damned if she would cry in front of the Dutch shit and the Greek billionaire who was acting like a piece of shit.
By the time Willow had emptied the two cups, both Stavros and Ingrid were staring at her.
Finally, Ingrid said, “The first time I saw you, I thought you were like a fat little cow, but no, you’re more like a camel with your humps—”
“Ingrid.” Stavros’ tone was frigid with distaste.
Flushing at the condemnation in the billionaire’s eyes, she said sulkily, “I’m sorry.” She turned to Stavros, deliberately drawing his attention by running a hand over his chest. “Can we please get back to bed now? Or do you prefer talking to her over making love to me?”
If she had put her question any other way, Stavros wouldn’t have hesitated to reject her, if only to teach Ingrid a lesson.
But when it was a choice between a bitch and the woman who had betrayed him?
Even though the way Ingrid was pawing him filled Stavros with dislike, he did nothing to prevent it, keeping his fists clenched against his side. He looked at Willow, arching a brow. Will you just stand there and stare?
The silent question made Willow feel like she had been sucker punched. She knew she should leave now, but she just couldn’t make her feet move. She hated, oh God, she hated the way the Dutch shit kept mauling Stavros in front of her. She knew if she left, Stavros would be raped on the spot.
Ingrid couldn’t believe it when the fat cow still hadn’t left. She asked pointedly, “You’re aware you’re not needed?”
“Am I?” Lame-ass way of delaying the inevitable, but she would do anything to keep them from fucking again.
“Yes,” Ingrid said coldly, “you are.”
Willow let out a gasp of feigned amazement. “I don’t believe it.”
Stavros frowned at the almost hysterical light shining in Willow’s eyes. Something wasn’t right. He knew he shouldn’t give a damn…but he did. “Willow—”
The concern in the Greek billionaire’s voice made Ingrid’s temper snap. “Fine then,” she said sweetly, cutting Stavros off. “If you want to be a spectator then please,” she drawled, “be my guest.” Letting go of the covers wrapped around her body, she let it fall as she twined her arms around Stavros’ neck and kissed him full on the mouth.