Trish Morey - At His Revenge

‘Who?’

‘My mother. He’ll hurt my mother.’ It was a desperate whisper. ‘It’s what he always does when I don’t do what he wants.’

‘Your mother ?’

And then it fell into place, all of it, and he wondered why on earth it had taken him so long to work it out. This was why she’d wanted the cash. To get her mother away from the island. And she’d wanted to do it while her father was away in Crete. This was the plan. No rebellion. No business plan. Just an escape plan.

An escape plan he’d wrecked.

She had no other source of income. No place to go. All her resources cut off by this brutal tyrant.

Exasperation that she hadn’t told him the truth mixed in with another, unfamiliar emotion. Guilt? ‘Where is your mother now?’

‘In her room.’

With a simple movement of his head Stefan indicated that his head of security should deal with it. Reluctantly, he let go of Selene. ‘Do you feel well enough to show Takis the way? If so, go and bring her here.’

Face pale, she glanced at her father and then back at him. It was obvious she didn’t know whom to trust and the uncertainty in her face almost killed him.

‘Just fetch her.’ Unnerved by the blood still oozing from her head, Stefan took a dressing pad from one of the security team and quickly bound her head. ‘Stay close to Takis and if you feel dizzy, tell him. I’d go with you but I have some business to finish here.’

Switching from intimidating hulk to pussycat, Takis smiled at Selene and took her hand. ‘Which way?’

When they were a safe distance away and out of earshot, Stefan turned his attention back to her father. Turned to have a conversation that was long overdue. Finally he had the power he’d wished he’d had as a child and he used it now, feeling a rush of grim satisfaction as Antaxos’s security team melted into the background, not wanting to get between the two men. ‘You and I have things to discuss.’

NUMB with shock, Selene sat in the stateroom of Stefan’s luxury yacht, watching over her mother.

She knew she had to move but she ached from head to foot after her fall onto the hard floor. Every time she tried to boost her spirits panic descended, squashing her flat. She had nothing. No money, no home, no job, no means to support herself. And the craziest thing of all was that none of that depressed her as much as the knowledge that Stefan had set her up. That nothing about that night had been real.

It was humiliating to admit that she’d been so naïve it hadn’t even occurred to her to be suspicious when he’d invited her to attend the party. She’d seen him as heroic instead of as he really was—a ruthless businessman who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

He was no better than her father.

She was going to have to try and find someone else to give her a business loan but she already knew her father would block every avenue.

In the midst of her lowest moment ever, the door to the stateroom opened.

Stefan stood there, casually dressed in dark jeans and a shirt that did little to disguise the muscular frame that even her father had found intimidating.

Ignoring the tug of lust deep in her belly, Selene started to boil inside. Misery turned to anger.

How dared he stand there, so cool, controlled and sleek , when her life was falling apart because of him? Yes, some of it was her fault, but if she’d known what he was going to do she would never have made that decision.

Anger simmering, she stalked through the door and closed it behind her, anxious not to wake her mother and determined to maintain her dignity no matter what.

Determined not to be trapped in a room with him, she chose the steps that led to the luxurious deck, relieved to find that Antaxos was no longer even on the horizon. It was gone and she hoped she’d never see it again.

Stefan strode after her. ‘You and I have things to discuss.’ He spoke through his teeth, as if he were hanging onto control by a thread. ‘But first I want to know why you refused to see the doctor.’

‘I don’t need a doctor.’ She was so shaken by what he’d done she could hardly bring herself to speak to him. ‘But you should definitely see one because there has to be something seriously wrong with you to even contemplate doing what you did to me.’

The flare of shock in those fierce dark eyes revealed that her response wasn’t the one he’d been expecting. ‘I rescued you.’

‘You rescued me from a situation of your making. That doesn’t score you any points.’ Her voice rose. ‘Before St George killed the dragon did he first poke it in the eye with a burning stick and drive it mad so that he’d look good when he killed it? I don’t think so.’

Stefan eyed her with the same astonishment he would have shown had the dragon in question just landed on his polished deck. ‘ You are angry with me ?’

‘Furious. Livid.’

‘Then that makes two of us.’ He snapped out the words. ‘But before we have this conversation I want the doctor to check you over. You had a nasty blow to the head. Do you have a headache? Blurred vision?’

‘I’m seeing you perfectly clearly, Stefanos, and believe me you are not looking good.’

His jaw clenched. ‘I would appreciate a professional opinion on your health.’

‘You need a professional to tell you I’m steaming mad? You can’t see that for yourself? If that’s the case then you’re even more insensitive than I thought.’

His only response to that was a slight tightening of his firm, sensual mouth. ‘You received a significant blow to your head. I want him to check that you’re all right.’

‘Why? Because you care so deeply about my welfare? Or maybe because your master plan isn’t finished yet? What am I supposed to do next? Dance naked on national TV?’ It gave her some satisfaction to see the streaks of colour tracing the lines of his cheekbones. ‘You used me. The whole thing was a set-up—the champagne, the dress, the … the sex.’ Why on earth had she mentioned the sex? It was the last thing she wanted to think about. She wouldn’t let herself think about it. She didn’t dare. ‘It was all planned so that someone could take the most incriminating photos possible.’

‘That is not true.’

‘That’s why you rescued me, isn’t it? To score another blow against my father.’

He threw her a simmering glance of raw emotion. ‘Stop looking for conspiracy theories. None of this would have happened if you’d told someone your father was abusive.’

‘I tried. No one would believe me. We are a happy family, remember? My father is a pillar of society. A philanthropist. He is ruthless, but part of his appeal has always been that he is a family man. People believe that.’ She saw from the expression on his face that he’d believed it, too. ‘Do you know that he even supports a charity for abused women?’ The irony of it almost made her choke. ‘I called the police once.’

‘And?’

‘He told them I was going through a difficult teenage phase. They believed him. Or maybe they didn’t—’ she shrugged ‘—maybe they were just afraid of what would happen if they arrested him. Either way, it just made it worse for me and for my mother.’

He turned away and closed his hands over the rail of the yacht. His knuckles were white.

‘You let me think I caused those bruises.’ The rawness of his tone caught her off-balance. ‘You let me think I’d hurt you.’

A sharp stab of guilt punctured her anger. Thrown by the sudden shift in the conversation, she stared at his rigid shoulders and suddenly she was right back in his bed, naked and vulnerable. ‘I—I didn’t know what to say—’