And to make sure of that she wanted some space between them. The whole country would be a nice start.
Their dinners were served, and she took a bite of her Chicken Kiev. Delicious. She stared into the flickering flame of the torch on the wall. It had almost been too easy. She was actually disappointed Nikos had capitulated so quickly. After the way he’d treated her, her blood had been up for a fight.
“Enjoying your meal?” the waiter asked, refilling her water glass with a smile. “You look happy.”
“I am.”
“Because you’re in love? I am too,” the young man added, and before she could dispute his assumption he leaned forward to joyfully whisper, “I’m proposing to my girlfriend tonight.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“But what’s this?” He peered at Nikos’s untouched plate. “Mr. Stavrakis didn’t like his salmon?”
“He, um, got called away.” Anna handed the waiter her own empty plate, which she’d all but licked clean. If it weren’t for the caviar spread over the salmon, she’d have eaten Nikos’s dinner, too.
“In that case, I’ll bring your dessert. An extra big slice,” he promised, then winked at her. “Everyone should celebrate tonight.”
She definitely felt like celebrating. But as she dug into the fruitcake a few moments later she noticed her breasts were starting to hurt. Back at the estate, Misha would be getting hungry. She needed to return to the dance club, retrieve the Maserati and get back.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, miss?” the waiter asked.
“Um...the bill?”
“Mr. Stavrakis always takes care of his guests. I’d lose my job if I brought you a bill. Sorry. Standing orders.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Matryoshka was very expensive. As it had been Nikos’s choice to bring her here, and he’d ditched her in the middle of the meal, her conscience would allow him to pay. Heck, his accountants would probably get a tax advantage out of it.
But just as she was about to leave Nikos sat down heavily in the chair across from her.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out, chagrined. Could he have already gotten a lawyer to draw up the custody papers?
He frowned at the empty table. “Where is my dinner?”
“Long gone. My Chicken Kiev was delicious, though.” She shook her head wryly. “Thanks for ditching me. I had a nice conversation with the waiter. He’s in love. He’s going to propose,” she said airily.
“To you?” Nikos said sharply.
Anna snorted a derisive laugh. “Yes. To me. I have that kind of power over men.”
He took a small sip of Scotch. Casually, almost dismissively, he tossed a small box on the table, pale blue as a robin’s egg. “Here.”
Frowning, she opened it.
Inside the box, nestled on black velvet, she saw a huge diamond ring set in platinum. The facets of the enormous stone, which had to be at least ten carats, sparkled up at her in the candlelight. It took her breath away.
She twisted her great-grandmother’s stoneless ring around her finger nervously. Nikos’s diamond was so big it wouldn’t have even fit inside the Princess’s empty setting. The diamond was bigger than a marble. Excessive to the point of tackiness. And yet...
She swallowed, looking up at him. “What is this? Some kind of trick?”
“No trick,” he said. “We will be married tonight.”
The rush that went through her then was like nothing she’d ever felt. Nikos wanted to marry her. Just as she’d dreamed for so long. Even when she’d known it was impossible—even when, as his secretary, she’d watched him go from one sexual conquest to another, she’d had secret dreams that she might someday be the woman to tame him.
“Put it on,” Nikos said.
But it wasn’t the earnest pleading of a lover—it was an order. Utterly cold and without emotion.
And just like that the pleasure in her heart evaporated.
Nikos didn’t want to marry her.
He wanted to own her.
This was his way of dealing with the threat of Victor. Rather than calling for his lawyer, rather than negotiating for joint custody of Misha, he figured it was easier to just buy her off with a ring. He thought Anna could be purchased for the price of a two-hundred-thousand dollar trinket and some meaningless words.
“What do you take me for?” she said in a low voice.
“As my wife. To have—” his eyes raked over her “—and to hold.”
She swallowed. His dark eyes were undressing her, right there in the restaurant. As if he were considering the very real possibility of pulling her to him, ripping off her clothes, and making love to her on there on the table, with the entire restaurant watching.
He still intended to coldly seduce her. He still meant to take his pound of flesh for what she’d done. And if he were her husband, his power over her would increase tenfold.
Just give in, her thought whispered. Give in to her desire. Give in to his power. Then he couldn’t send her away from Misha ever again. She would be his wife. She would be above Lindsey and the other women like her—she would be Mrs. Stavrakis. And though Nikos hated her now, perhaps someday...
No. She had to get a hold of herself. Even if someday Nikos forgave her, she would never, ever forgive him. He didn’t love her. And it was worse than that. He didn’t even trust her enough to work or to make any decisions about her own life.
He said he wanted to protect her, but he really wanted to lock her away, like a parakeet in a tiny gold cage.
Could she put aside every ounce of pride and self-preservation and marry a man who hated her? Allow herself to be bound to him forever?
“No,” she whispered.
His dark eyebrows pushed together like a stormcloud. “What did you say?”
She trembled at his anger even as she braced herself for more. She wouldn’t bend. She wouldn’t submit. She wouldn’t sell herself for the hopeless, destructive illusion that he might someday trust her, respect her, love her.
“I said no.” Snapping the box shut, she held it out to him. “Sorry, Nikos. I’m not for sale.”
CHAPTER FIVE
NIKOS STARED AT HER, hardly able to believe his ears.
“Don’t you understand?” he said. “I’m giving you what you wanted. I’m making you my wife.”
“How very generous. But I only wanted that when I was in love with you. Not anymore.” When he didn’t take the box, she tossed it on the table between them. Such a small thing, but it separated them like a stone wall two feet thick. “Now I just want to be free.”
She shifted in her chair, brushing her dark hair off her bare shoulders. He looked around the restaurant that they’d conceived together. To his fevered imagination it seemed that every man in the room was watching Anna. Her lovely pale skin, the dark hair cascading in riotous waves down her back, those almond-shaped turquoise eyes challenging him. The beige halter top barely covered her full breasts, and her dark low-rise jeans revealed her flat belly.
God, she was gorgeous. He’d never wanted her more.
“You will marry me, Anna,” he said. “We both know it will happen.”
“Death and taxes are inevitable. But marriage?” She gave him a humorless smile. “No.”
“I don’t particularly want to marry you, either. But my son’s happiness means more to me than my own.”
He saw her lips tighten at that. Good, so she understood how much he cared for Michael.
But there was more to it than that.
From the moment Nikos had seen Anna dancing with Victor Sinistyn in the club, something had changed in him that he couldn’t explain. He only knew that Anna belonged to him and no other man. He had to stamp his possession on her for all the world to see.
The idea had haunted him. In the club, on his motorcycle, as he’d walked with Anna through the casino. He’d kept thinking it would be simple enough to marry her. Hell, they were already in Las Vegas. And once she wore his ring he knew she would be utterly loyal to those vows. There would be no more arguments or fear of betrayal. No custody battle splashed in the papers. It was the perfect solution.
He’d just never thought she would refuse him.
“You will marry me for the sake of our son.”
“Never.”
Nikos raked a hand through his dark hair in frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was accustomed to his employees rushing to fulfill his orders, and his mistresses had always done the same.
“You will be rich—richer than your wildest dreams,” he pointed out. “I will deny you nothing.”
She snorted incredulously. “You think I care about that? If I’d wanted to marry for money, I could have done it long ago.”
“Meaning you’d have married Victor Sinistyn?”