Maisey Yates - Greek Mavericks - At The Greek's Pleasure

She had spent far too long being preoccupied with him. She would just be glad to have it handled.

And if she was a little bit...giddy over the thought of some time to deal with the attraction...well, that was normal. People acted ridiculous when it came to sex. History was filled with examples. Wars were started over sexual desire. She could hardly expect herself to be above the kind of insanity that captured almost all of humanity.

She spent the rest of the plane ride musing about restraint and dozing on and off while Apollo continued to work. Every time she opened her eyes and looked at where he was sitting, he was maintaining the same position, his focus never broken from his laptop, or the spreadsheets in front of him.

It was strange, watching him from across the darkened cabin. He had changed so much in the past few years. The lines on his face becoming more pronounced, as though each year had left a mark behind, evidence of the living he’d done.

And as a teenager, he had never worn a suit. He had always kept his hair slightly longer back then, too. Now it was cropped ruthlessly short, as though he was trying to look like he had sprung out of the ground a very conservative billionaire.

She wanted to find that boy again. Strip off the layers and layers he’d put over the person he’d been. The one she had... Well, the one she had felt so many things for.

She let her eyes flutter closed again, and when she opened them, they had landed in Greece. Customs and passports and the like were handled in an efficient manner involving people coming to them and apologizing for any delays. After that, they were ushered into a limousine, all their bags packed quickly into the trunk as they departed straight from the plane to the highway.

Athens was an incredible sprawl she hadn’t accurately pictured in her mind. The rolling hills were capped with white, not from snow, but from the stone houses packed tightly together, flowing along with the landscape.

The downtown wasn’t anything like the glass-and-steel jungle of Manhattan. Ancient structures mixed with more modern buildings, the history and heritage of the nation evident in the intricate stonework, the massive pillars and marketplaces scattered throughout.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a villa just outside the city.”

“Of course you do,” she said. “But I thought we were going to your offices?”

“We will. At some point. But some adjustments have been made to accommodate some of our new goals.”

“Meaning what?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from the scenery to look at him.

“I don’t think it’s that difficult to guess.”

They drove out of the city, winding up the steep, packed hillsides. They escaped the sprawl, moving to an area where trees were more plentiful. Where houses were a little bit less common. Until they reached the top of a completely vacant hill that overlooked the sea. There, behind a secure set of wrought-iron gates was a white stone house that was even more imposing than the St. James family estate in upstate New York.

“Is this your primary residence now?”

He lifted his shoulder. “As much as any place, I suppose. It is my home, after all.”

“I do know that. You were born here. You left here when you were eight.”

His focus sharpened. “Have you been reading unauthorized biographies?”

“No,” she said. “I just paid attention when you used to speak around the dinner table. I used to know you, Apollo, as difficult as it is to remember back that far.”

An emotion she couldn’t put a name to flashed through his eyes. “I did not realize such memories were worth saving.”

“Know your enemy, and all of that.”

“I suppose so.”

The limousine pulled closer to the house, and the driver put the car into Park. Elle opened up her own door, stepping out and looking up at the house. To her, it looked like a lot of cubes of varying sizes stacked on top of each other, large windows on all sides looking out at the hills behind them, and the ocean before them.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re afforded very much privacy,” she said.

“Are you concerned that the village will see you naked? Because make no mistake, most of the time spent in this house will be spent without clothes.”

The dark, sensual promise should have frightened her, offended her. Instead, it excited her.

“The thought crossed my mind,” she said. No point in playing the prude now. Not when he knew full well she wasn’t.

“Never fear. I can tint the windows at the flick of a switch, and we won’t even have to sacrifice the view. But good to know you are on the same page as I am.”

“I have great concern for my modesty.” And her sanity.

“Well, I hope you don’t concern yourself much with it in my presence.” He walked ahead of her, moving to the front of the house. “Our things will be brought in momentarily. Come, let me show you around.”

She followed him inside, her heart hammering, her mouth suddenly dry. She didn’t know what might happen next. If he was going to strip her of her clothing immediately and press her up against a wall again. And if he did, what would she do? She would capitulate. She knew that from experience.

But he didn’t make a move to touch her. Instead, he paused in the expansive entryway. “I think this is self-explanatory,” he said, indicating the living area with the low-profile couch that was up against the wall, curving around to another. “Beyond that is the pool.” He walked ahead, up the open staircase that led to the second floor. She followed him. “My office,” he said. “The library, kitchen and dining area. I felt the second floor made for a slightly better view.” He continued straight up the stairs, to the third floor and she quickened her pace to keep up. “That way is my room,” he said, pointing down to the left. “And then here you will find yours.” The opposite direction from his. He began to walk to her room, and she followed, feeling a little bit like a lost puppy afraid of losing sight of her master.

He pushed the door open and revealed a light and airy space. Everything was white. The bedspread, the gauzy curtains that hung around the bed frame. There were no curtains on the windows, just as with the rest of the house. The square, unobstructed glass pane afforded a brilliant view of the jewel-bright sea, and let in the pale, sun-washed light.

“There are several settings for the windows. One is a blackout setting. That way the sun won’t disturb your sleep,” he explained.

She nodded. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said, looking around the room. “I thought we would be sharing a room.”

He chuckled. “I don’t sleep with my lovers, agape. I have sex with them. We don’t need to share a bedroom for that.”

Dammit. He managed to make her feel completely gauche and out of her depth even though she was doing her best to appear like all of this was commonplace for her. She’d been feeling like she was succeeding. Until this moment. She gritted her teeth. “Of course. How could I be so silly?”

“I imagine you typically date nice boys who like to spend the evening making love before they pull you close and cuddle you.”

His mocking tone burned her down deep. She was starting to feel at a disadvantage again. She would not allow it. “Do I seem like the type of woman who enjoys cuddling?” she asked, arching a brow. “You cannot possibly guess at the sort of man I typically associate with. You don’t even know me. Not even a little bit. You know what I’ve bothered to show you, and that’s all.”

“My mistake. If you will excuse me, I’m going to get ready for this evening. And I have a bit of work to catch up on.”

“You worked the entire time we were on the plane.”