Page 31 of Immoral (Park Avenue Kings #3)

DIMITRI

T HERE WAS A very real possibility I’d lost my mind.

Bringing Benoit to my home—my real home. Giving my guards and my staff their leave.

It was an unconventional decision, one Omar had tried to talk me out of until I’d sent him packing. Not for good, but until I needed him again. We were in the thick of the holiday season, and I wasn’t such an asshole that I’d keep them away from their families this week.

Benoit, on the other hand, I didn’t give a fuck about keeping for myself. I didn’t fully understand why, not when he’d proven himself to be a liar. I didn’t tolerate liars. Didn’t welcome them into my house.

So what the fuck had I been thinking bringing him to Santorini?

This island held the memories of my life, both good and bad, and it drew me back time and time again.

It was my private sanctuary, the one place I felt the most at ease, though I didn’t think I could fully relax anywhere. It just wasn’t in my nature.

The morning after we’d arrived, I’d been working in the living room, in an oversized leather chair that I’d worn in over the years until it was smooth and faded, when Benoit slipped inside.

The man didn’t know the meaning of rolling out of bed—his skin was always flawless, hair perfectly done to his liking.

Even in a pair of linen pajamas he probably never would’ve worn of his own volition, Benoit was…

Well, he was stunning. And that was the problem.

“I made myself at home in your kitchen and brewed a cappuccino,” he said, holding a steaming mug as he came to stand in front of me. “You don’t mind, do you?”

With the sarcasm that laced his voice, I knew he wasn’t actually asking for my permission.

I doubted he’d ever had to do that in his life, not with the way he waltzed through it so easily.

He charmed men to get what he needed. Hell, maybe even women.

Considering I didn’t know if anything he’d ever told me was the truth, I didn’t really know all that much about him.

Other than the fact he wanted to push my buttons now.

“I’m surprised you know how,” I said, returning my attention to the file in my lap. “Don’t you thrive on having some rich schmuck at your beck and call?”

“Nah, just one of their many staff—oh, wait. You don’t seem to have any of those here. How peculiar. Did they all turn out to have hidden agendas too, or did you get bored one day and use them for shooting practice?”

“I’m not as high maintenance as you seem to be.”

“No? You travel with a team twenty deep.”

“And how many secret agents are in King’s corner?”

“Touché.” He took a long sip of his coffee and turned away, leaving that unanswered, which told me what I needed to know.

That there were more members than the ones I’d met, and he wouldn’t be divulging their names.

Were some of them on the flash drive? Or were those strictly clients?

I hadn’t questioned Benoit when I thought he was just a dancer, but now I found myself wanting to know more.

How the tides had turned.

Fuck.

“How did you get recruited? Dancer turned spy? Your parents were spies?”

Benoit slowly turned around, arched a brow, and smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry, are we asking personal questions now?”

I rolled my eyes, wishing I hadn’t said a damn thing and got to my feet. “Never mind. I don’t know why I bothered.”

It was going to be a long two weeks.

THE NEXT TWO days were much the same, a precarious back-and-forth dance that had us moving in and out of each other’s space with caution. I didn’t trust him and he sure as shit didn’t trust me—not that I’d given him any reason to.

I’d pointed a gun at his head.Threatened his life.Then bartered with his leader to put that very same life in my hands for the last two weeks of our agreement.

I didn’t feel guilty, though. Benoit deserved every bit of my disdain. His lies had left an acrid taste in my mouth, one that was difficult to be rid of.

He was the perfect illusion. Beautiful. Fun. Flirty. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. There was no way someone like him would ever be interested in?—

“Are you going to join me for a swim today, mon monstre ? Or are you still afraid I might try to drown you?”

—a monster.

I glanced out the sliding doors to the glistening pool that beckoned.

Benoit had invited me to join him on several different occasions since our arrival, and each time I’d refused.

I knew myself well enough to know that being around him wet and nearly naked would only end one way, and it wasn’t with either of us drowning.

“I’m working.” That seemed the easiest way to be rid of him. Ever since King had shown his hand, Benoit had been about as interested in my business as I imagined he would be in a seminar on accounting.

I could just imagine his opinion on that— I don’t care how I make the money, darling. Just how much of it I can spend.

“You’re always working.” The pout was evident in his voice even without my seeing him. But the next thing I knew, Benoit came around the side of my lounger and took the laptop from me. “I think it’s time you loosen up.”

“And I think you’re going to want to give that back.”

Benoit looked at the weapons catalogue I had open, frowned, then shut the computer. “Nope.”

I got to my feet and went to reach for my laptop, but he quickly sidestepped me.

“It’s a beautiful day, your pool is heated, and you and I are going to go and get wet.”

“No, we are not. Give it back.”

Benoit’s lips curved into a smirk full of wicked promise. Once upon a time I would’ve taken that as a come-on, but I was now well aware that that promise was full of devious intentions, and there was no way I would fall for it again.

“If you don’t give that back, I’m going to?—”

“What? Kidnap me? Done that. Handcuff me? That was fun. Threaten my life? Guess what? You’ve done that too. I mean, really, mon monstre , you’re going to have to come up with something far more creative than threats if you want this back.”

He dangled my computer in front of himself, and as I snatched for it, he laughed and turned, running off through the house.

Fucking Benoit. He was insane. No one talked to me the way he did.

I’d thought that the first time we met, and I was thinking it now as I went after him.

He headed straight toward the sliding doors that led out to the terrace, and my heart skipped a couple of beats.

Who knew what he’d do next? I wouldn’t put it past him to throw it in the damn pool.

“Benoit, give me back my fucking computer.”

He came to a stop at the edge and, sure enough, held it over the water. “Say please.”

“Give it to me, now.”

Benoit pursed his lips then looked at the water. “I don’t know, that didn’t sound like?—”

“ Please .”

He slowly turned his head in my direction, and his expression was full of mischief. “Ooh, now that I like the sound of. Say it again.”

“I said it once.” I took a step toward him. “That’s what you asked for. Now give it to me.”

Benoit walked over to me, still too close to the water for my liking, but then pushed the computer up against my chest. Then he angled his face up toward mine, and the afternoon sun made his eyes sparkle.

God he was beautiful.

“I’ll give you anything you want, mon monstre. All you have to do is ask.”

Fuck I was tempted. So damn tempted. Who wouldn’t be? With his flawless skin, inviting eyes, and sensual mouth, I was trying to remind myself of all the reasons that would be a bad idea.

“You want to,” Benoit whispered. “I can see it on your face. I feel it in your stare. And I’m sure if I look”—his gaze traveled down my form—“I can see it in your body. Why are you fighting it so hard?”

“Because it isn’t real.”

Benoit cocked his head. “What isn’t? My attraction to you? Or yours to me?”

My dick jerked as he slid he tongue over his lower lip. I wanted to give in, wanted to take his lying lips with mine. But I couldn’t seem to get past the idea that he’d only been in my bed for King.

“I’m going back to work.”

I turned on my heel and headed back toward the door, and just as I was about to walk inside, I heard, “I see right through you, Dimitri Stavros. This isn’t just another compound. This is your home, the place you keep the things you’re afraid to lose, and guess what? I’m one of them.”

My feet faltered, but I didn’t turn back, didn’t respond, because if I did I might have to acknowledge the fact that maybe…he was right.

WE CONTINUED TO circle each other like wildcats as the days passed, and I had to face the truth that, for some reason, I didn’t want to let Benoit go.

It was irrational. Stupid. I should’ve tossed him off a cliff the second I learned the truth about him, but there he was, in my private study, nosing around.

I happened to see him through the half-opened door as I was passing by and stopped to watch him.

He scanned the books lining the shelves, picking one out and flipping through it before putting it back. Was it fucked up that my first thought was that he was thinking of the best way to hide a camera? It was, but no one could blame me.

Considering I hadn’t let him out of my sight or my residence since we’d arrived, I knew he was clean. There was no way he’d be able to get his hands on anything to plant in the first place, and there were no meetings to spy on here.

No, it seemed like he was just browsing, stopping here and there to inspect replicas of old pistols from past wars.

His fingers brushed over the worn keys of the piano that sat unused as he passed, pressing them too lightly to make a noise.

Then he stopped suddenly, his gaze falling to the lone framed photo sitting on top of the closed piano lid.

A furrow marred his brow as he reached for the frame, but when he brought it closer, he began to smile.

I swallowed and continued to watch silently, my heart starting to beat a little faster.

“This is your father?” he said, and then looked straight at me.