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What The Greek Wants Most(15)

By:Maya Blake


His lips twisted. 'Should I be worried that you know the monetary value of every piece of art in my house?'

She whirled to face him. 'Excuse me?'

'I hope we can engage in more meaningful dialogue than how much everything is worth. I find the subject of avarice … distasteful.'

Her gasp sounded genuinely hurt-filled. 'I wasn't … I'm just … that's a horrible thing to say, Mr Pantelides.'                       
       
           



       

His eyebrow lifted. 'I thought I kissed all the formality out of you last night?'

She flushed a delicate pink that made her skin glow. Her expressive   brown eyes slid from his and she turned back to examine the room.

It was then that he noticed the faint bruises on her left arm. He was   striding to her and lifting her arm to examine the marks before his   brain had connected with his body.

'Who did this to you?' he demanded.

Her surprised gaze snapped from his to her arm. Her flush deepened as   she swiftly shook her head. 'I … it doesn't matter; it's nothing-'

He swallowed hard. 'Like hell it is.' The idea that his demands on her   might have caused this to happen to her made a thread of revulsion rise   in his belly. He forced it down and concentrated on her face. 'Tell me   who it was.'

She swallowed. 'My father.'

Pure fury blurred his vision for several seconds. 'Your father did this to you?'

She gave a jerky nod.

Why the hell was he surprised? 'Has he done anything like this before?' he bit out.

She pressed her lips together in a vain attempt not to answer. A firm   grip of her chin, tilting it to his gaze, convinced her otherwise.   'Once. Maybe twice.'

His vicious curse made her shiver. Theo examined the marks, which would   grow yellowish by nightfall, and pushed down the mounting fury. 'That   son of a bitch will never touch you again.'

Shock made her gasp. 'That son of a bitch is my father. And I've given   you what you wanted, so I expect you to hold up your end of the   bargain.'

He frowned with genuine puzzlement. 'Why do you tolerate this, Inez?' He   glanced from the bruises to her face. 'You're more than old enough to   live on your own. Hell, if money and a rich lifestyle are what you   crave, you're sufficiently resourceful to find some wealthy guy who   would-'

She snatched her arm from his grasp. It was then that he realised he'd   been caressing her soft skin with his thumb. He missed the connection   almost immediately.

'I certainly hope you're not about to suggest what I think you are?'

Keen frustration rocked him into movement. 'I'm curious, that's all.'

'I'm not here to satisfy your curiosity. And perhaps you've been lucky   enough to be granted a perfect family but not everyone has been afforded   the same luxury. We made do with what we …  Did I say something funny?'   she snapped.

He cut off the mirthless laughter that had bubbled up at her words.   'Yes. You're damned hilarious. You obviously don't know what you're   talking about.'

She stared at him with confusion and a little trepidation. 'No. But how   can I? We only met two nights ago. And now I'm here, your possession  for  the foreseeable future.'

The simple statement twisted like live electricity between them. The   look in her eyes said she was daring him to react to it. But the   off-kilter emotions swirling through his chest made him back away from   it. He shouldn't have dealt with her so soon after speaking to   Benedicto. He should've left Teresa, his housekeeper, to see to her   needs.

He turned and headed for the door. 'I'll show you upstairs. And then I need to go.'

Striding into the hallway, he started up the grand central stairs that   led to the upper two floors of his house. After a few steps, he noticed   she wasn't behind him.

Turning, he found her paused on the second step, her gaze once again wide and wondrous as she stared around her.

'What?'

'There are no concrete walls.' She looked up at the all-encompassing glass around her. 'Or ceilings.'

He resumed climbing the stairs. 'I don't like walls. And I don't like ceilings,' he threw over his shoulder.

She hurried after him and caught up with him as they neared the first   suite of rooms. She regarded him for a few seconds then bit her lip.

He paused with a hand on the doorknob. 'What?' he asked again, trying   and not succeeding in prising his gaze from her plump lips.

'I'm not sure whether to take that as a metaphor or not.'

'Anjo, there's no hidden meaning behind my words. I literally do not like concrete walls or ceilings.'                       
       
           



       

She frowned in puzzlement. 'I don't understand.'

'It's very simple. I don't like being closed in.'

'You're … claustrophobic?' She whispered the word as if she wasn't sure how to apply it to him.

He shrugged and hurriedly threw open the door, a part of him reeling at   what he'd just admitted. 'We all have our flaws,' he retorted.

'Were you born with it?'

His jaw clenched once. 'No. It was a condition thrust upon me quite against my will.'

'But … you seem … '

'Invincible?' he mocked.

Her lips pursed. 'I was going to say self-assured.'

'Appearances can be deceptive, querida. After you.' He indicated the door he'd just opened.

She stopped dead in the middle of the room. From where he stood, Theo   could see what she was seeing. With the glass walls and white carpet and   furnishings and nothing but the view of the blue sky and sea beyond,   the vista was breathtaking.

'Deus, I feel as if I'm floating on a cloud,' she murmured with an awe-filled voice.

'That is the primary aim of the property. Light, air, no constrictions.'

He'd learned to his cost that constrictions triggered his anxiety and   fuelled his nightmares. Which was why every single property he owned was   filled with light.

'It's beautiful.'

The strong pulse of pleasure that washed through him had him stepping   back. Things were getting out of hand. He needed to walk away, go to his   meeting with Benedicto and remind himself why he was in Rio. This need   to bask in Inez's presence, touch her skin, indulge in the urge to  taste  her sensual lips once more needed to killed. He had to stick to  his  game plan.

'Make yourself at home. I'll be back later. We're going out this   evening. Dinner at Cabana de Ouro, then probably clubbing. Wear   something short and sexy.'

Her eyes widened at his curt tone but he was already turning away. He   didn't stop until he reached the landing. On a completely unstoppable   urge, he looked over his shoulder. Through the glass walls, he saw her   frozen in the middle of her suite, her eyes fixed on him.

She looked lost. And confused. And a little relieved.

With grim determination he turned and headed down the stairs. And he   hated himself for needing the reminder that Benedicto da Costa had   damaged not just him, but his whole family.

The payback should be equal to the crime committed.

* * *

The black satin boy shorts she chose to wear were plenty stylish and   sexy. They also moulded her behind much more than she was strictly   comfortable with but everything else she'd hastily packed was too formal   for dinner at Cabana de Ouro, the trendy restaurant and bar in  Ipanema.  Coupled with the dark gold silk top, with her hair piled on  top of her  head and gold hoops in her ears and bangles on her wrist,  she looked  good enough for whatever club Theo intended to take her to  after dinner.

Clubbing wasn't strictly her entertainment of choice. But since, for the   next twelve weeks, Theo expected her to obey his every command, the   least she could do was learn to pick her battles. And she'd already   endured one battle this morning in the form of confrontation with Theo.   And found out he was claustrophobic.

He'd been right; she'd secretly imagined him to be invincible. The way   he carried himself, the innate authority and self-assurance that seemed   part of his genetic make up, she'd had no trouble seeing him best each   situation he found himself him.

Hearing him admit to a deep flaw that most grown men would be ashamed of   had floored her. Coupled with his concern when he'd seen the marks her   father had inflicted when she'd announced she was moving in with Theo,   she'd been seriously floundering in a sea of uncertainty by the time   he'd left her bedroom.

She examined the marks on her arm now and released a shaky breath to see   that they were fading. She was shrugging on the shoulder-padded   waist-length leather jacket that went with the outfit when she heard   Theo's Aston Martin roar into the driveway.

Her fingers trembled as she fastened the long-chained gold medallion necklace at her nape.