The Greek's Pleasurable Revenge

‘So that’s what all this is about, is it?’ She threw back her shoulders, her hair rippling down her back. ‘You have lured me here to prove that you can have sex with me in some sort of pathetic attempt to get your own back?’

‘Something like that.’

She opened her mouth, but for a second words failed her. ‘You are a despicable, vile creature—do you know that? A lousy piece of—’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He shut her down with a bored flick of his wrist. ‘I’m sure I’m all that and more. You can call me all the names you want, if it makes you feel better, but it won’t change the facts. And do you know what the worst of it is?’

He let his eyes drift lazily over her outraged face.

‘You didn’t even put up a fight. I had been looking forward to the challenge, the thrill of the chase, to working out how I was going to win you over. But in the end it was so easy it was almost pathetic.’

It was as if he’d punched her. The shock of his words made her fold at the stomach, reach for the back of a chair beside her to stop herself from falling. Raking in a breath, she pulled herself upright. Then, shooting him one last look of utter revulsion, she turned to go.

With lightning speed Lukas reached the doorway before her, easily barring her way. ‘Not so fast.’

‘I would like you to move, please.’ Her voice was brittle with anger and hurt.

‘Uh-uh. You will leave when I say so.’

‘Is this part of your master plan?’ She put her hands on her hips, as if to try and anchor herself. ‘To hold me against my will? Keep me here as your prisoner so that you can prove just what a detestable macho bully you have become?’

‘And supposing I did?’ Lukas arrowed her a lethal look. ‘You and I both know what would happen. You would be all over me, Calista. Oh, you might pretend to be outraged...put up a display of resistance in the name of decorum. But in truth I would only have to click my fingers and you would be mine. Writhing beneath me, on top of me, down on me, begging for my attentions and then screaming for more. Look how you behaved just now. It’s pitiful, really. I should feel sorry for you.’

Slap.

The weight of Calista’s palm connected with the side of his jaw with an impressive crack.

He had seen it coming. He could have stopped it. Spending time amongst some of Greece’s most notorious criminals had honed his instincts, taught him to read the situation before it happened. Lukas had always had fast reactions—now they were razor-sharp. But for some reason he had let it happen. For some reason he had wanted to feel it—that burn, that most primitive connection—to show that he was alive. To show that he could get to her. And the sting from her palm had set his heart racing.

Calista Gianopoulous—the young woman he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind, whose betrayal had consumed him so obsessively that it had become part of the fabric of who he was. Now he had her where he wanted her. Now her humiliation was in his grasp. And he could squeeze as tightly as he wished.

He studied her intently, standing there with her chin held high, her breasts heaving seductively beneath the demure black dress, pulling the fabric tight with every gasping, defiant breath. Her eyes flashed with a green so intense, so wild, it was as if she had been stripped of her sanity.

He should be feeling vindicated, triumphant. But he didn’t feel either of those things. Instead he was simply consumed with the overwhelming need to possess her body again. His only conscious thought was how utterly magnificent she looked.

He let a second of silence pass and tried to pull himself together, waiting to see what she would do next—almost willing her to strike him again so that this time he could intercept it, grasp her wrist and feel that physical connection between them again, see where it might lead. But instead she let her hand drop by her side, lowering the tawny sweep of her lashes. The pink pout of her lower lip, he noticed, had started to quiver.

‘Resorting to violence, Calista?’ He gave a derisive laugh. ‘I would never have thought it of you.’

‘It’s no more than you deserve.’

‘No? Maybe not. But if we’re dishing out home truths, perhaps it’s time that you took a look at yourself.’

Her head came up and there was fear in her eyes. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Oh, come on, Calista, let’s drop the pretence. You see, I know.’

‘Kn...know what?’

If Lukas had had any doubt about her part in his downfall it was well and truly dispelled now. Guilt was written all over her pretty face—not just written, but spelled out in big, bold capitals. She positively shook with it, her hands trembling as she raised them to her mouth, her legs looking as if they wouldn’t be able to hold her up much longer.

He let out a grim laugh. ‘Do you really need me to spell it out for you?’

‘Lukas... I...’

‘Because I will if you want.’

Taking a couple of steps away he then turned, his eyes pinning her to the spot, as if they were in a courtroom.

‘Let me take you back to the night of your eighteenth birthday party. The night my father discovered that the police had boarded one of the ships and found it was loaded with arms. While Stavros was over at Villa Melina, trying to find out what the hell was going on, your father dispatched you to “entertain” me. And you did a magnificent job—I have to say that.’

He paused, his whole body brittle with seething contempt.

‘Aristotle must have been very proud of you. While my father was suffering a heart attack you were in full seduction mode...while people were mobilising a helicopter to get him to the mainland we were in the throes of passion. And by the time they got him there it was too late.’

‘No, Lukas.’ Calista bit down hard on her quivering lip. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘Oh, but it was, Calista. It was exactly like that. Before my father had the chance to confront yours, to defend himself, he conveniently had a heart attack and died. I bet Aristotle couldn’t believe his luck.’

‘That’s...that’s an awful thing to say.’

‘It was an awful deed.’ He mocked her use of the totally inadequate word. ‘Not only was he profiting from his vile trade in arms, but when he got caught out he set up my father to take the blame. He betrayed his oldest friend. It doesn’t get much more awful than that.’

‘No! I don’t believe you!’ Calista let out a cry of anguish. ‘My father had nothing to do with the arms-smuggling. And he would never have betrayed Stavros.’

‘And I don’t suppose he was responsible for getting me arrested and banged up in jail for four and a half years either?’ Lukas gave a harsh laugh.

‘No! I don’t believe that either. How would that even have been possible?’

‘Remarkably easily, as it turned out. It seems your father had villainous friends in remarkably high places. Or should I say low places?’

‘No! You’re making all this up.’

‘Don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you didn’t know.’ Lukas ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. ‘No doubt you have tried to dress it up over the years—reshape your traitorous actions to ease your conscience, help you sleep at night. But the fact is you betrayed me in the same way your father betrayed my father. You traded your innocence for my guilt. I just hope it was a price worth paying.’

Calista turned away from him, stumbling across the room towards the open doors of the terrace. She clearly couldn’t face him—well, that was hardly surprising. He stared at her silhouette, dark against the azure blue of the sea meeting the sky. He could feel the thrum of his pulse in his ears, a tightness in his chest that had yet to be released.

He wasn’t done with her yet.

‘So you see, agape mou, this is my little payback. My turn to let you see what it’s like to be used. To be taken advantage of. To have your body violated by someone for their own gain.’

Closing the gap between them, he placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her so that she couldn’t avoid the hard, dark glitter of his eyes.

‘So tell me, Calista. How does it feel?’

* * *

Calista tried to swallow past the shock that was blocking her throat. Her heart was thudding wildly in her chest, her palm still stinging from where it had connected with Lukas’s jaw. But her brain had gone into slow motion, struggling to process all the terrible things he had said.