Mistresses: Seduction In The Boardroom

Oh God.

She also realised what Aristotle had realised way before her: they had stopped, obviously at their destination, and the driver was patiently knocking on the privacy window. They hadn’t heard him because—

Oh God.

More shame and mortification and self-disgust than she could ever remember feeling coursed through Lucy in a tidal wave of heat so intense she felt feverish. She scrambled to sit up, hands shaking as she pulled her dress down to cover her thighs.

A large brown hand came over hers, and she had to stop herself flinching back.

‘OK?’

The huskily asked question surprised her. It was almost as if he really cared. But she couldn’t look at him, just nodded jerkily, a curtain of hair hiding her face from view. She could give thanks for once that it was down. She didn’t think she could ever look at him ever again. In the split seconds they had as they gathered themselves and she heard Aristotle—Ari—speak to the driver, Lucy tried to assimilate what had just happened.

The fact that she’d all but drowned in an instantaneous pool of lust in his arms was evident enough. She’d deal with that in a darkened room on her own later. But it was the fact that it had happened without hesitation, with not even a flicker of rejection or desire to draw back. Was it simply because after weeks of denying this to herself, weeks of this desire building and building, the merest touch had sent her up in flames and she’d been unable to draw up even the flimsiest of defences? She’d turned into a complete wanton.

When Aristotle climbed out of the car, and Lucy readied herself to step out too, she realised that any vulnerability she’d felt before had paled into pathetic insignificance. The truth swirled sickeningly in her breast. She truly was her mother’s daughter, and that knowledge jeered her for all her efforts to deny it for so long.

There was no going back now, not after that little performance, and she quaked when she saw the huge looming shape materialise on the other side of the door. That everything she feared most lay outside that door right now was obvious, and also the fact that she’d just kissed goodbye to any pretence of a defence she might dream up to excuse her behaviour. The door opened abruptly and Lucy was compelled to step out, taking the hand that was offered and forcing down the frisson of electricity at even that innocuous touch. She felt as though the entire world had changed, and suddenly her place in it.

It was while they were standing alone for a moment, in the luxurious salon of the palatial Parnassus villa on the outskirts of Athens, that Lucy felt Aristotle turn towards her. She closed her eyes momentarily and pleaded silently, Please don’t look at me…please don’t say anything. But since when were her prayers answered? She opened her eyes and gritted her jaw.

Aristotle looked down at Lucy and felt completely out of his depth. He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened in the back of his car. He’d never, ever been so consumed with lust like that—that he’d laid a woman down in the back seat and all but made love to her there and then. When he thought of it now, of how close he’d been to unzipping his fly—his hand clenched around his drink and he had to force it to unclench.

Lucy hadn’t looked at him since she’d stepped out of the car and he couldn’t blame her. What was it he’d said? That he wouldn’t be a lecherous boss? And then within seconds of getting into an enclosed space…But she’d been so responsive, dammit. Like his most potent dream, his hottest fantasy. She’d been hot, willing, passionate…wet for him. His body tightened again. She’d shown him the woman she was hiding under all that primness.

It was hard to equate the woman who’d paled at seeing her bra strap hanging out of a bag earlier to the woman who’d almost come apart in his arms less than a couple of hours ago.

‘Lucy?’

He could see her grit her jaw, and it was only then that he noticed the faint pink mark on her neck. Shock coursed through him—and self-disgust. He’d given her a love bite? The last time he’d given a woman a love bite it had been a girl, and in a boarding school in England, probably at the age of thirteen. All of a sudden Aristotle felt anger for what this woman was reducing him to.

He took her arm and tried to ignore the way her skin felt, tried to ignore the way he wanted to caress it, tried to ignore the way she looked almost green.

‘Lucy, look at me.’

With the utmost reluctance Lucy turned her head and looked up, willing her reaction far down. She even pasted a smile on her face. ‘Yes?’

Aristotle looked angry. ‘Lucy…’ He sighed with exasperation and ran his other hand through his hair, leaving it to flop back in such sexy disarray that Lucy felt her knees tremble.

‘I had no intention of kissing you like that, and I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened—’

‘No, it shouldn’t.’

His eyes narrowed dangerously. He turned so that the room was blocked out and it was just the two of them facing each other.

‘That’s not what I meant. I was going to say it shouldn’t have happened like that.’

‘Well, it shouldn’t have happened at all.’

Aristotle’s brow went up. Lucy hated that brow.

‘Are you going to try and tell me that you didn’t like it? Or that I was mauling you again? What was it you called me? Ari?’

‘Stop it,’ Lucy hissed, a crimson tide washing into her face when she remembered that passionate entreaty, how easily it had fallen from her lips. ‘Of course I’m not going to say…that. But it shouldn’t have happened, and it’s not going to happen again.’

Aristotle moved closer, and Lucy realised that she couldn’t move back as there was a plant behind her. His heat and that innately musky scent came and wrapped itself around her, binding her into the memory of what had happened, making longing rush through her. And she hated it.

Aristotle’s face was a harsh mask of self-recrimination as he said, ‘It will be happening again, Lucy—just not in the back seat of a car. Somewhere infinitely more comfortable, where we won’t be constricted by space and hampered by clothes.’

Just then someone approached, and Aristotle smoothly turned to deal with the newcomer, stunning Lucy with his ability to morph from intensely demanding alpha male to urbane businessman. And for the rest of the evening, as she accompanied him around the room, meeting and greeting the people involved in the Parnassus side of the merger, she could almost be forgiven for thinking she’d imagined the whole thing.

While they were in Athens Lucy was to be Aristotle’s executive assistant. She’d met Martha, his Greek PA, a pleasant older lady who she’d spoken to on the phone before. She met them at the hotel earlier. She was going to deal with the day-to-day office stuff. Martha wasn’t aware of the merger. In fact none of his family seemed to be—something which had perplexed Lucy.

Mr Parnassus approached them now, distracting her from her thoughts. He and Aristotle had already gone to his study for a private meeting as soon as they’d arrived. Now this old and stooped man, who walked with a cane, looked Lucy up and down with a wink. They’d been introduced earlier.

He said to Aristotle, ‘Well, Ari, do you think we can trust her?’

Aristotle’s voice was deep and authoritative. ‘Absolutely. She’s been with my firm for over two years now.’

As they continued to converse, Lucy decided that she liked Parnassus. He had a friendly twinkle in his eye. Suddenly he declared that Aristotle should go and mingle so that he could ‘take this beautiful young woman outside for a turn around the patio’.

At a pointed look from her boss that Lucy couldn’t really fathom, she gave her arm to Parnassus and led the way outside. It was night and the sky was clear, stars twinkling over a commanding view down into Athens. Momentarily relieved to be out of Aristotle’s disturbing orbit, Lucy breathed in. ‘It’s so beautiful here. You have a lovely home, Mr Parnassus.’

‘Please, call me Georgios.’

Lucy smiled. ‘Very well. Georgios.’

He looked at her with shrewd eyes. ‘He must trust you very much. This merger is very important. Not even his own family know about it.’

Lucy’s belly clenched painfully. It wasn’t so much about trust as necessity and desire, but of course she couldn’t explain that. She frowned slightly. ‘I’m aware of that.’ She didn’t want to say more. She didn’t know Aristotle’s reasons for not divulging this to his family, and she knew the only reason they were here in Athens was because Parnassus had requested it.

‘He’s driven.’

Lucy was lost in her thoughts for a moment. She almost didn’t hear what the man said. But he was continuing, looking down at the view laid out before them.

‘He reminds me of myself when I was his age.’ Parnassus smiled, but it seemed sad. ‘He reminds me of my own son. In exile. Driven to succeed at all costs. And for what?’

Lucy was nonplussed. Parnassus caught her look and chuckled. ‘I’m sorry—you don’t want to hear an old man’s ramblings. We should go back inside.’

She put out a hand. ‘Oh, not at all…I just…I don’t know Ar—’ She blushed. ‘That is, I don’t know Mr Levakis all that well.’

Parnassus stalled and looked at her closely. He gestured with an arm to encompass the view and the villa. ‘See all this?’

Lucy nodded and sat back against the balustrade, captivated by this wizened man, by his deeply ingrained accent which he obviously hadn’t lost despite living in the US for decades.

‘It’s taken me years to build it up. My family left this country in shame, and all I’ve ever wanted was to come back in a blaze of glory.’

Lucy frowned. ‘But…that’s what you’re doing with this merger, isn’t it?’

He shrugged one bony shoulder. ‘Ack. In some ways. It’s not how I imagined it, even though I’ll get what I want for my children, whether they want it or not: re-introduction and acceptance into Athens society. But the ultimate glory will belong to that man in there, and he’s welcome to it.’

They both looked to where Aristotle stood, surrounded by a fawning crowd. Lucy shivered slightly despite the treacherous heat curling down low in her abdomen. He reminded her of a lone wolf. Head and shoulders above everyone else, supremely confident, supremely sexy and yet…alone. She hadn’t really thought of him like that before, and didn’t like the tender feelings it aroused.

At that moment a very glamorous-looking middle-aged woman came out to the terrace. Parnassus introduced her as his wife, bade Lucy goodnight and went back inside. Lucy turned to face the view again, her mind full of questions. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden cool breeze. What did Parnassus mean about Aristotle? Did he somehow see him heading for an empty life, driven by a need to succeed? Clearly he wasn’t far wrong. Aristotle had said himself that this merger was the most important thing, and yet—

She jumped when she felt a warm blanket of heat settle around her shoulders and heard a deep, ‘We should get going. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’

His jacket was warm with his body heat and scent. It enveloped Lucy, making her sway a little as they went back in. She didn’t say a word. Every nerve was twanging at the thought of sharing a car with him again, and her head was bursting with all the enigmatic questions Parnassus had posed.

But she needn’t have worried. Aristotle couldn’t have made it clearer he had no intention of touching her. Lucy sat in her corner and watched as they were driven down the hill towards the city centre. Feeling somehow compelled, she turned to face Aristotle and asked, ‘Don’t you have a family home here?’

She sensed him tensing, but he just said, without looking at her, ‘Yes, it was my father’s home, but I prefer to stay in a hotel.’

And then, before Lucy could halt her runaway mouth, she heard herself asking, ‘Why don’t your family know about the merger?’

His head whipped around so fast that she nearly flinched back. The lines in his face were stark. ‘What makes you ask that?’ The thread of warning was explicit.

Lucy shrugged. ‘I just…wondered.’

‘None of them are aware,’ he said curtly. ‘And I’ve already told you they must not know. As far as they’re concerned I’m here for three weeks to check up on the Athens side of the business.’

Lucy’s jaw clenched. ‘I know all that, and of course I won’t be telling them anything. I’m well aware of the terms of my contract.’

She turned her head away, stunned to feel a welling of emotion and discover that she had sudden tears stinging the backs of her eyes. What on earth was that about?

When she felt her hand being taken by a much larger, warmer one, her heart tripped. She looked around warily. She couldn’t really see Aristotle’s face in the dark gloom.

He sounded weary all of a sudden. ‘Look, it’s complicated, OK? It’s family stuff between them and me and they just don’t need to know. It’s for security reasons…’

‘That’s all you had to say.’ Lucy took her hand from his and took off his jacket, handing it back to him. ‘I’m warm enough now, thanks.’

Boss/assistant. The lines of demarcation were unmistakable. Aristotle cursed himself again for having lost control earlier. In all honesty the depth of that desire still shook him up. He took the jacket and watched as she turned her head to look out of the window again. The curve of her cheekbone, the fall of her hair was an enticing temptation to turn her face back, seek out those warm lips, sink into her yielding soft body again.

He swore under his breath. He’d vowed he wouldn’t take her like some randy over-sexed teenager, but here he was mentally stripping her, moments away from trying to seduce her all over again. He sat rigid in his seat the whole way back to the hotel. Never had a woman caused him this much frustration.

When they got back to the hotel Lucy skittered away from him like a scared foal. He let her go, bidding her goodnight, then went into the bar and ordered himself a shot of whisky. It was going to be a long three weeks.

Towards the end of that first week, Lucy half heard a question from Aristotle as they sat in his office in the centre of Athens. In essence they were conducting separate lives: presenting a benign face to his Athens-based company, and conducting top secret meetings with Parnassus at the same time. The meetings with Parnassus’ side were complicated and technical, calling on all of Lucy’s skills and much of the small amount of legal training she’d done.

She’d met his stepmother Helen and half-brother Anatolios, at a general board meeting that morning. The stepmother was tall and thin and cold, effortlessly supercilious. His half-brother was nothing like Aristotle. He was blond, shorter and had a spoilt, weak-looking face. It hadn’t taken Lucy much to deduce that his brother had a serious jealousy complex as he’d frowned sulkily throughout the meeting, clearly hating having Aristotle back to remind everyone who the real boss was. After meeting them, she didn’t entirely blame Aristotle for wanting to keep his distance.

‘…to put in an appearance at the charity ball tonight.’

Lucy realised she was being spoken to and looked up. ‘I’m sorry…?’

Her voice drifted away as she was caught by the gleam in Aristotle’s eyes. They were sitting close together, side by side at a table, with papers strewn everywhere. For the whole week, ever since the night they’d arrived and that earth-shattering moment in the car, she’d been rigid with tension, happily throwing herself into work to try and escape from dealing with…this.

But it hummed around them now, this awareness. She’d been so careful not to let it catch her unawares, but she had failed in this instance. And in all honesty she knew that it was largely to do with Aristotle’s own restraint. He’d been cool and solicitous all week. Not a hint of what had happened in his behaviour. At first it had thrown her, she’d been absurdly suspicious, but now…She realised it had been there all along. She knew it and he knew it, and much to her utter shame a flutter of dark excitement erupted deep in her belly.

She tried to ignore it. ‘I’m sorry—what did you say?’

Aristotle looked at her and stifled a groan. Her eyes were huge pools of swirling grey, like a stormy ocean, with lashes so long and dark he could already imagine them fluttering against his cheek. How he’d managed not to touch her all week he couldn’t really fathom. It had taken super-human restraint, but he’d been determined to prove to himself that she didn’t exert that much control over him. Except it had been an exercise in failure, because she did. His mind had constantly been taken from business.

It didn’t help that because of the wardrobe he’d provided, which was perfectly respectable, she was unwittingly displaying more of her luscious body. He knew she was deliberately choosing the most unrevealing clothes, but conversely they were making him want to unwrap her like a delicious parcel.

At the board meeting earlier, when he’d seen his own half-brother’s eyes riveted to Lucy’s cleavage, he’d wanted to reach across the table and punch him in the face. Being driven to violence by a woman was a very novel experience, and he had to put it down to sexual frustration.

He cleared his throat and dragged his eyes back up, vowing silently to himself that he’d have her in his bed within twenty-four hours. He couldn’t take much more of this.

‘The charity ball tonight. Everyone will be there—including Parnassus. Needless to say it’ll be seen entirely as a coincidence that we’re there too. When we meet any of his people we’ll affect no knowledge of having met before.’

Lucy had seen the extent of the security detail that both Aristotle and Parnassus commanded, so there had been no chance of a leak. Again the size and importance of what they were working on stunned her.

She asked abruptly, ‘Why is it so important that nobody knows of this, exactly?’

Aristotle’s mouth thinned. ‘Because our two companies merging will put a lot of noses out of joint. We’ll effectively be blowing any competition out of the water; the only companies who will remain safe are the ones who are huge enough to withstand the pressure—people like Kouros Shipping, for instance.’

Lucy nodded, she’d heard of Alexandros Kouros. ‘But…your family?’

His eyes flashed at her persistence, but he answered tightly, ‘My stepmother and brother would oppose this absolutely. Helen would see it as a dilution of my father’s name and a threat to her security. If my brother had even an inkling of this happening he’d do his best to derail it just to get at me. That’s why we have to be vigilant. And they’ll be at the ball tonight too.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Although I wouldn’t worry about him too much—no doubt he’ll be more concerned about scoring the best drugs and the best women.’

Lucy hid her shock at this evidence of little love lost. She quashed her immediate questions. She had no desire to know about Aristotle’s family history. None at all.

Chapter Six

THAT evening, after they’d eaten a sumptuous dinner, Lucy found herself separated from Aristotle. She was feeling almost relaxed, which she knew had something to do with the fact that she’d been seated apart from him, even though she’d felt the weight of his gaze from across the table, periodically.

She’d been seated next to Kallie Kouros, the wife of Alexandros Kouros, who’d proved to be down to earth and utterly charming, giving Lucy hilarious tidbits of information about Athenian society. When her gorgeous husband had come to whisk her away they’d looked so in love, and he’d been so innately protective, it had made a very secret part of Lucy ache…It surprised her, as she’d never found herself envious of happy couples before.

Lucy craned her neck to try and find Aristotle, not even sure why she felt compelled to do so when he was clearly only too happy to leave her to her own devices. Finally she saw him across the room, with his head bent towards a very blonde and very beautiful woman. She saw him smile and it impacted her deeply. He’d never smiled at her like that. Yes, he did, reminded a little voice. That night outside your apartment.

Immediately she could feel her blood cooling, the colour draining from her face. A strange falling feeling made her feel shaky all of a sudden. On a complete reflex, to deny her reaction and the fact that it might possibly be stemming from feeling jealous, she whirled around and made blindly for the ladies room.

After collecting herself she went to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. When she stood up again she nearly jumped out of her skin to see Helen Levakis, Aristotle’s stepmother standing beside her, reapplying her blood-red lipstick.

She looked at Lucy and said, ‘Lizzie, wasn’t it?’

Lucy shook her head, fascinated by this woman’s brittle shell. ‘Lucy.’

The woman smiled insincerely. ‘My apologies. Ari seems to have a new assistant every time he comes home.’

Lucy washed her hands briskly. ‘It’s no problem.’

Helen Levakis turned and rested back against the ledge. ‘You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you? I saw that little look outside, when you saw him with another woman.’

Lucy tried and knew she was probably failing to keep the shock from her face. This woman had stuck a knife right into the tender heart of her, and to realise that was huge.

She found her voice. ‘Excuse me, but I really don’t think it’s any of your—’

‘You’re right,’ the woman dismissed cuttingly. ‘However, I thought I’d do you a favour. Ari may sleep with a woman like you, but he’ll never marry a woman like you. That’s more than likely why he’s home. He’ll be looking for a suitable bride soon. A man like him? He’ll want to have an heir to secure his inheritance. He’ll do anything to stop his brother getting what’s rightfully his.’

Lucy watched the tall thin woman disappear back out into the bustling throng with a last glacial glance. She turned to face the mirror, realised that she was holding her breath and let it out in a big whoosh. What on earth had precipitated that? And what did she mean about his brother? And was Ari really looking for a suitable bride as well as the merger? And was she really that transparent?

Lucy forced herself to stand tall and looked at herself critically. She’d chosen one of the less revealing dresses, but still she wanted to yank it up and pull it down. One-shouldered, silk, it cut across her bosom far too low for her liking, and showed a veritable acreage of pale skin, which she was very conscious of in this milieu of much skinnier, more sun-kissed people.

The dark grey seemed to make her eyes stand out too large in her face, and her hectic flush had nothing to do with makeup and everything to do with embarrassment that everyone in the room must have seen her mooning after her boss. Well, it ended here. For the next two weeks it was work only. She’d keep Aristotle at arm’s length however she could. A dart of doubt struck her. How did she know he hadn’t already transferred his affections to that blonde? Perhaps he’d finally grown weary of chasing his too tall and too buxom secretary?

Choking back a frustrated cry at her own awful weakness and feeling so vulnerable, she left the bathroom—every intention of going back to the hotel. She got out to the lobby and retrieved her coat. She’d just leave a note for—

‘Where have you been?’

A hard hand whirled her around so fast she lost her balance and ended up plastered against Aristotle’s chest, looking up, slightly winded. When she realised what she was doing she scrambled back, inarticulate anger rushing through her. ‘I’m going back to the hotel. I’m tired.’

‘Well, I’m not—and we’re not finished here.’

‘It’s a social event. Surely you don’t need me to work.’