Doukakis's Apprentice (17 page)

‘Kim is extremely productive and that to fire her would jeopardise the accounts you’ve won. On top of that, I know when I’m beaten.’

But he didn’t look beaten. He looked sleek and in control. Far more in control than she was. She was fast discovering that it was possible to feel terrified, elated and panicky all at the same time.

‘That’s—great. Thanks. We have quite a few mothers on the team and childcare is always a nightmare.’

‘So I understand. I’ll fix it. And while we’re at it you can stop giving Mr Foster lessons in spreadsheets. He’s going on a proper training course starting tomorrow. Now, go. And don’t buy my PA any more plants. The place is turning into a bloody jungle.’

‘It’s hard getting ready for an evening when you don’t know where you’re going.’ Polly kept her coat tucked round her as
she slid into the back seat of his chauffeur-driven car. ‘What if I’m wearing the wrong thing?’ She was hyper-aware of him—of his arm stretched across the back of the seat and the proximity of his thigh to hers.

He eyed her coat with one eyebrow raised. ‘Take your coat off and I’ll tell you.’

‘I’m wearing the coat so that you can’t tell me I’m wearing the wrong thing. You have a habit of freaking out over my clothes choice so I decided it was safer not to show you until we arrive. I don’t want you to dent my confidence.’

‘Fine, but promise me you are wearing
something
under the coat.’

‘Sort of.’

With a groan and a sexy smile, he leaned his head back against the seat. ‘I have a feeling I should have made you dinner in the apartment instead of taking you out in public.’ He hesitated a moment and then closed his hand over hers, his fingers warm and strong.

Suddenly her insides felt jittery. She wanted to ask what tonight was all about.

Her impression was that he was as rubbish at relationships as she was.

For two weeks she’d heard nothing from him. And she’d told herself that was a good thing.

‘I’m sorry that lead on my father and Arianna being in Paris turned out to be useless. She really is so lucky to have you.’ Polly curled her fingers around his. ‘That day at school—I really envied her.’

‘For having a brother who came and yelled at her?’

‘For having a brother who cared enough to come down to the school and tell her off.’

‘I had no idea she was being bullied. I didn’t ask the right questions. You have no idea how much I regret that now.’

‘You were always there for her. That was the most important
thing.’ Feeling disloyal to her father, she gave a quick smile and pulled her hand out of his. ‘So, where are we going tonight?’

‘It’s the opening of a nightclub. Invited guests only.’

As they drew up outside, Polly looked out of the window. ‘The Firebird? Oh—I read about this place. It’s
seriously
cool. It has a glass dance floor, or something, and the interior looks as though there are flames going up the walls. There’s a waiting list of celebrities who want to hire it. And you’re invited?’

He gave her a strange look. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s impressive. I read it’s almost impossible to get on the guest list. We really wanted to pitch for their advertising just so that we could sneak in and have a look.’ Smiling, Polly gave a shiver of excitement and leaned forward in her seat as she saw the crowd gathered. ‘I can’t wait to tell the others. They’re going to be
so
jealous. I had no idea you were a nightclub sort of person. I’m discovering all sorts of things about you. Are those photographers?’ She shrank slightly. ‘Last time I went near a photographer I knocked myself unconscious on his stupid camera.’

‘That’s why I brought my security team. They can earn their keep.’

‘If they’re going to take pictures, I’m taking my coat off.’

Damon gave a faint smile. ‘Is this going to give me a heart attack?’

‘I hope not because I’m not walking through those photographers on my own.’ Polly wriggled out of her coat and saw his eyes drop to her cleavage. ‘Don’t look at me like that. You told me I was allowed to dress up.’

‘You look incredible.’ His voice husky, he studied her short gold dress and then lifted his gaze to hers. ‘You’re not wearing Gérard’s products tonight?’

‘You mentioned dancing so I went for bare legs. Are you going to stare at me or are we going inside?’

It was a heady experience being out in London with Damon. The moment he stepped out of the car the flashbulbs exploded and he held her hand firmly as he walked purposefully towards the entrance of the club. The press pack, kept at bay by his security team, snapped pictures and shouted questions that Damon skilfully deflected.

‘I don’t see why they’re so interested in who you’re out with. There are major things going on in the world and all they’re interested in is who’s in your bed. Crazy.’ Keeping her head high, Polly walked with him into the club, waving her arms and walking with a sway in her hips as she heard the seductive pulse of the music. ‘I feel like dancing.’

‘Good.’ Damon gestured to a member of the bar staff and a moment later a bottle of champagne and two glasses appeared. ‘We’ll have a drink first.’

‘Are you one of those men who need alcohol before they hit the dance floor?’

It turned out that he wasn’t.

Watching Damon dance was a sensual feast. Every movement made her think of sex, every glance he sent in her direction was a promise of what was to come.

Enjoying herself hugely, Polly let herself go, her body flowing in time to the rhythm, her hair flying around her face as she danced on the shimmering glass floor.

The music and the atmosphere were so infectious that she was still smiling when Damon swept her off the dance floor and back to their private table.

Every few minutes people came up to shake his hand and exchange a few words and Polly wondered why he attracted so much attention wherever he went.

‘There are some really famous people here and they’re all
coming over to talk to you.’ She tapped her champagne glass against his. ‘Doukakis for Prime Minister, I say.’

‘How much have you drunk?’

‘Nowhere near enough. This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. In fact the whole experience is super-cool. This place is stunning—’ Out of breath, she swallowed a few mouthfuls of champagne and then noticed a couple of minor royals weaving their way towards them. ‘I can’t curtsey. My dress is too tight—or maybe my bottom is too big. One of the two.’ She paused politely while they spoke to Damon and when they finally moved away she sidled closer to him. ‘Why is everyone so determined to talk to you?’

‘Because I own the place and they’re sucking up.’ Calm, Damon topped up her glass. ‘Do you want to dance again?’

‘You own a nightclub?’

‘I told you—I believe in diversification. If one part of your business is struggling, another part will be strong. Rules of commerce.’

‘But—’ Polly looked around her and suddenly realise why everyone had been so deferential when he’d walked in. ‘So you’re the boss here, too. Everywhere you go, you’re the boss. Have you ever
not
been in charge?’

‘I spent a crazy night in bed with a woman in Paris recently …’ the words were spoken in her ear and his arm was draped across the back of her seat ‘… and there were definitely a few seconds when I wasn’t in charge.’

Her rapid breathing had nothing to do with her exertion on the dance floor and everything to do with the way he made her feel.

‘I thought we agreed to forget about that.’

‘I changed my mind.’

Her eyes were on his, and then on his mouth. The desire to kiss him was so powerful she almost didn’t care that they were in a public place. ‘Everyone is looking at us.’

‘Then it’s probably time to leave.’ He rose to his feet and held out his hand to her.

Polly endured the drive home in an agony of sensual anticipation and the moment they closed the door of the penthouse he hauled her against him and divested her of her dress in one slick move that had her gasping.

Equally impatient, she ripped at his shirt, sending buttons flying.

‘I want you—’ His voice unsteady, Damon pressed her back against the wall and lifted her easily, encouraging her to wrap her thighs around his hips.

She was so ready, so desperate after an evening of watching him on the dance floor, that when she felt him against her she gave a low moan of encouragement and arched her hips to towards him. His fingers gripping her thighs, he entered her with a slow, controlled strength that made her gasp his name. The gasp turned to a sob as she felt him deep inside her and for a moment she stilled, her hand on the sleek skin of his back, her eyes tightly closed as she absorbed the enormity of the pleasure.

‘You feel fantastic.’ He groaned the words against her mouth and then withdrew and surged into her again, building a rhythm so skilled, so perfect, that her senses caught fire.

Her hands were in his hair, then on his shoulders, and they kissed like savages, biting, licking, feasting as she met each hard thrust with the same frantic desperation. It was primal and out of control, sex at its most basic, a slaking of a physical need that was stronger than both of them.

She came in an exquisite rush of pleasure, her body tightening around his and sending him spinning into the same place.

For what seemed like ages, neither of them moved.

Then he lowered her gently, his forehead against hers. ‘Sorry—’ his voice was husky ‘—the bedroom was too far.’

Polly was dizzy with the intensity of it. His lack of control made her feel like a sex goddess. ‘No need to apologise—’

‘Better get there quickly before it happens again—’ He scooped her up again and strode through to the bedroom while Polly reflected briefly on the startling fact that she actually liked it when someone else took control.

Her last coherent thought before he brought his mouth down on hers was that she never wanted it to end.

As dawn broke, Polly sat up carefully, trying not to wake him, but a strong hand shot out and pulled her back down again.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘Back home.’

‘No, you’re not.’ His hand slid into her hair and he kissed her with a slow thoroughness that melted her limbs. ‘You’re sleeping here. With me.’

She really ought to leave, she thought groggily, but he pulled her into the circle of his arms, trapping her against him.

It felt good, she thought, and the intensity of that feeling terrified her. She’d always avoided this situation, hadn’t she? She’d always protected herself from that depth of emotion because she’d seen how fragile relationships were. She’d grown up watching her father’s relationships crumble to dust.

But with Damon—

Bombarded with alien feelings that were as terrifying as they were exciting, she stilled in his arms and he turned his head, those dark eyes sharp and astute as he sensed the change in her.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Don’t lie to me. I always know when you’re keeping something from me. Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.’ His voice
husky and sexy and he slid his hand behind her head and drew her head towards him.

Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.

Polly felt a warmth flow through her. It wasn’t just that he made her feel like the sexiest woman alive, he was fiercely protective and that was a whole new experience for her.

Was it wrong to enjoy the fact that someone was looking out for her?

His gaze probing, Damon lowered his head to hers, but before he could kiss her his phone buzzed.

Swearing softly, he sighed and rolled onto his back. ‘Sorry. Bad timing, but I’d better take this. I’m expecting a call from Athens.’ Visibly annoyed at having been disturbed, he reached out and answered it. ‘Doukakis …’

Polly lay with her eyes closed, her hand resting on the hard muscle of his chest, struggling to come to terms with the way he made her feel. A night without sleep made his deep voice even huskier and she smiled to herself, thinking that when he spoke in Greek he was even sexier.

Then his voice changed from husky to harsh and he disengaged himself from her grip and launched himself from the bed.

Polly yawned. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Stay there, and whatever happens don’t come out.’

Still lost in her own thoughts, Polly looked at him in a daze, distracted by the sight of his bare back. The swell of smooth male muscle flexed and rippled as he dressed swiftly. He reminded her of a warrior at the peak of fitness, trained and ready to go into battle. Suddenly she wanted to put her arms round him and drag him back to bed. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen and sex with him was the most breathtakingly exciting experience of her life. ‘Come back to bed. Work can wait.’

He didn’t look at her. ‘I need to see someone. Stay there.’
Hesitating, he turned back to her, planted his arms on the bed and leaned forward to kiss her. ‘I’ll be back.’

‘Mmm …’ Still sleepy, Polly smiled against his mouth. ‘I’m not sure how to take that. Isn’t that a line from
Terminator
?’

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he disengaged himself and gently stroked her cheek with his fingers. ‘
Don’t
move. And that’s an order.’

Wondering why he was suddenly so serious, she lay still for a moment, floating on a sea of blissful contentment.

And then she heard raised voices coming from the living room.

Raised voices?

Why would there be raised voices?

Concerned, she slid out of bed and wriggled back into the gold dress that lay abandoned on the floor where Damon had thrown it the night before.

The anger in his voice intensified and her curiosity turned to alarm as she hurried through to the living area of the spectacular apartment.

Damon’s back was towards her, his feet planted firmly apart in a stance that was blatantly confrontational. Distracted by the display of male power and authority, Polly didn’t immediately see who was on the receiving end of his wrath, but as she moved forward, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor, the other person finally came into view.

For a moment she was so shocked she couldn’t make a sound.