Page 8

CHAPTER 8

K ara

Havros was the devil reincarnated. But then they all were. All the men and even women included in the illustrious work of an entirely different kind of darkness.

What I’d learned could make the ordinary person’s skin crawl. Not this girl. I was fascinated by everything I’d learned and read over the years, including some outlines of cases my father had worked on.

“I guess that remains to be seen,” I told him.

He was even more debonaire than the two other times I’d been in his company. Tonight, he’d chosen to wear dark slacks and a flowing white shirt halfway open on his chest. With his sleeves rolled up, the ink on one of his muscular arms caught my eye. The dagger appeared lifelike, the rose with a pool of blood cathartic. His arms were tanned, his fingers long and just as muscular as the rest of him. There was no tie, no hundred-thousand-dollar watch on his wrist; instead he was wearing a diver’s watch. I could recognize one easily since I owned one myself.

One of my few hobbies was enjoying the silence of the deep blue seas.

What struck me was how relaxed he seemed and not just because he was inside his own apartment. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. The other men I’d spoken with in similar positions inside the US had been tense, so much on edge that after every sound they’d reached for their weapon.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, his politeness catching me off guard.

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Alright. Stoli it is.”

“Russian vodka?” I asked as he led me further inside. I was honestly shocked at the interior.

“Believe it or not, I do enjoy the fruits and labors from other countries. Please, make yourself comfortable. Look around.”

“Does that mean you have nothing to hide?”

The look he gave me was extremely commanding. “Try and remember, Kara. I’m not your enemy and you requested this meeting.”

“Yes, you’re right.” I watched as he headed for a bar in the corner of a massive room. The apartment was gorgeous, the attention to detail similar to the apartment my parents had rented in Italy when I was a little girl. A pang hit me, the ache of missing my mother tough. She would love Greece. “This is the Palazzo style, right?”

“Very good. Yes, the apartment was built in the nineteen thirties, this apartment painfully restored to most original details. It was a labor of love.”

As I walked further into the room, I was floored with how beautiful everything was. With plaster ceiling reliefs, carved wood coffered doors, a marble fireplace, and arches over every window with exposed Tinos columns, the gothic feel reminded me of the years I’d lived in Milan. “Exquisite.”

“I’m curious how you know the style.” He pulled a bottle of vodka from a small fridge, pouring two glasses.

“If I had to guess, I’d say you already have a full and highly detailed background on me and my entire family. If so, you’re well aware I lived in Italy for a few years of my life.”

His chuckle was easy and sultry at the same time. “As you managed to do when you left my office today and yes, I’m aware. Just like you, I do my homework on anyone I meet with. It’s vital for my existence.”

“Touché.” As he headed toward me, I allowed myself to truly take a look at the man. In his office, he’d been unapproachable, a man on a mission to break my nerve. He’d seemed ultra powerful behind his desk, basking in the glory of being in charge. But tonight, he was entirely different. “You were educated in England.”

“For several years, yes. I’ve also spent time in Italy as well. Il cuore di Milano è la squisita arte fornita da artigiani altamente qualificati. ”

The way he spoke Italian was absolutely beautiful. “The heart of Milan is the artistry provided by highly skilled craftsman. Yes, I would completely agree. Although I must admit the food was also a favorite of mine.”

His smile could light up a room. “I’ll give you a little secret even my mother doesn’t know.”

“What’s that?”

“I prefer Italian food to Greek.”

“Does your mother cook?”

“She is an amazing cook,” he admitted.

“Then never tell her.” We laughed together and it felt natural.

He seemed more down to earth, or at least a man who enjoyed different aspects in life. However, he was just as charming as earlier in the day, a predator widening the scope of his hunt. Only I refused to play the helpless victim.

In my heels, I was still inches shorter than the man, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to hold my head high. Neither one of us blinked, as if in doing so we’d break the magical trance we’d placed ourselves in. Maybe my way of thinking was based a little too much on fantasy and very little on reality, but he was the ultimate fantasy.

“Your entire family appears close,” I said in admittance to just how far down the rabbit hole I’d gone in my attempt to discover all I could about him.

“We are very close. We were brought up to believe family was the most important entity in our lives. I hold that dearly.” His words resonated as he knew they would and when our fingers touched as he handed me the drink, I was floored at how wildly potent it was.

The touch was more about ownership, not just sexual appeal. God. I was seriously overthinking this. I kept my hand unwavering, determined not to seem nervous in any way. Of course I was. I’d realized he was watching me. I’d felt his eyes, the lust buried deep within them.

Yet I couldn’t help but believe his desire was about conquering something he didn’t truly feel he had control over, rather than intense yearning.

“Then the scathing news program must have hurt the family greatly.”

His nostrils flared. If he thought it could remain some big dark secret, he was wrong. “Yes, well, the information was scurrilous and I believe Mr. Artino has seen the error of his ways.”

“Does that mean you threatened him?”

“Kara. I’m a businessman first and foremost. I’m not in the habit of making threats, only promises.”

I shuddered from the dark inflection he used. It was a clear indication to drop the subject.

“At least we agree on how important family is. If Dimitrios is the Boss and you are the Lieutenant, who is considered your Enforcer? Christos?”

“Ah. You’ve schooled yourself on the differences in Greek mafia.”

“To a point,” I admitted. “Godfather of the night?”

Every time he laughed, my pussy throbbed. “Well, we are considered the most dangerous men in our country. The term suits my brother, at least his exterior.”

“A pussy cat inside?”

“Very much so.”

I rolled my eyes and he caught the gesture.

“You don’t believe that someone can appear dangerous without acting on any concept of violence?”

“What I believe is of no consequence.”

He nodded. “Ah, yes, the truth and nothing else but the truth. Was your decision to study criminology based on your father’s current profession or a more personal endeavor?”

As he’d done that morning, he was trying to get under my skin. The bastard. “My desire to learn the ins and outs of the criminal mind is definitely personal. I hate evil. But I will admit the psychological aspect of a pathological thief or murderer is truly fascinating. I would thoroughly enjoy having a heart to heart with a serial killer.”

“Now, they are truly twisted individuals.”

“Isn’t that what you are? A serial killer?”

“Surely you understand that men and women who target innocent people are mentally incapable of knowing right from wrong. While their actions might have a plan behind them, they are killing for the sport of killing, even if those they victimize don’t deserve the punishment.”

“Ah. I see the difference now,” I told him. “You truly believe the people you kill deserve the harsh punishment they receive. Judge and jury with merit and reason. Yes?”

He crowded my space and I was instantly pushed into a place of desire, my nipples becoming fully aroused. Why did the man need to have a killer smile?

“As I told you, Kara. Be very careful what you wish and ask for. There are answers that would trouble you enough you’ll have nightmares, potentially for the rest of your life.”

“Answer me. I want to know.”

“I only resort to violence when absolutely necessary.”

“What qualifies for that distinction?”

As he thought about the question, I sensed no one had bothered to ask him that before. “Betrayal of any kind. Lies. Deceit. Intentional violence against a family member or friend. Those come to mind.” When he turned so he could look me in the eye, for a split second I caught something behind the invisible mask he wore. Pain. Someone close to him had betrayed him, which was why he often spoke in riddles.

“They are understandable. So you know. You have no idea what I’m capable of, Havros. I’m a tough girl. I can protect myself, body and mind.”

“Can you?”

“Yes.”

“Then what about your heart?” He had a wry smile on his face and I’d be damned if I hadn’t almost fallen into his trap all over again.

“My heart is safely locked away. Now, would it be possible to have a tour of this lovely home? As you noted, I do love architecture. My mother indulged her passion for art by taking me to every museum and cathedral in Milan during our stay. I fell in love with the old-world gothic feel while just a kid.” I didn’t wait for him to agree or deny. I walked toward one of the hallways.

And I was shaking like a leaf.

His aura was far too powerful, his eyes digging right into my soul. I heard nothing other than the sound of my heels touching the expensive marquetry floor. Yet I felt him. He was right behind me, almost as if he was stalking my every movement.

“This is huge,” I said as I grew more uncomfortable. He was also quite oppressive in stature and demeanor. But why did I sense both passionate and playful sides?

“I purchased two apartments and converted them into one.”

“Of course you did. You have all the money in the world.”

“Yes, I do, but as they say, money isn’t everything.”

“Try living hand to mouth.” I could tell he had no clue about the expression. “Paycheck to paycheck?”

“You’re correct in that I never had to worry about that.”

“Ah,” I said sarcastically. “What a pity. I’m surprised you don’t live in some big, fancy house. You know, with two butlers and a chauffeur along with at least two chefs.” When he didn’t say anything right away, I finally turned after just walking into one of what I guessed were several bedrooms.

Havros was leaning against the doorjamb, his legs crossed and his eyes holding a direct stare. “I prefer living alone without interference. Plus, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself just as you insist you are. I had one of the fancy houses you mentioned. It didn’t suit me. I prefer the noise on the street, the joy of hearing music reverberating from businesses, and the scent of rich food being served in various restaurants. The city is alive and being a man of action suits my blood.”

“Are you trying to impress me?”

“Is it working?” He sipped his drink as I tried to turn my attention to the contents of the room.

“I don’t impress or scare easily.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

As I walked closer, I felt lightheaded and the sensations were all about his aftershave. The scent was warm and exotic, suiting his magnetic personality perfectly. “Please do. That will keep our professional relationship on a positive level.” I shifted under his arm, his hand still plastered to the molding, and did my best to keep my composure.

“What about our personal one?”

He was damn good at baiting me, “I assure you that other than tonight, we won’t have one of those.”

“Another pity.”

Of the men I’d interviewed in a similar position Havros held, none I’d considered good looking in the least. Most were older, all with paunch bellies and a couple who were prematurely balding. One smelled like garlic every time we met while another rasped out answers, likely because of his three packs of cigarettes a day habit.

Every single man had given off smarmy vibes, which had enabled me to remain focused. I wasn’t positive how to do that around Havros.

I didn’t hear his footsteps at first, but knew he was right there. The electricity around him was different than I’d felt with anyone else.

The moment I walked into his bedroom, another set of sensations swept through me. I knew instinctively the room was his personal space by the dark, very formidable wood and the royal purple comforter on the bed. Shit. I realized instantly the color matched my dress. I’d rarely felt embarrassed while growing up or attending college. I could handle whatever was tossed in my direction, but I was suddenly tongue tied.

Being in his private space was too personal. I spun around on my heel, charging from the room and directly into the man who boiled my blood.

“What’s wrong, gatáki ? Do I frighten you?” He wrapped his arm around me, the hold entirely too possessive.

“As I said, very little does. What did you call me?” Being in his arms was a mistake. My core was instantly overheated to the point I was in a brain fog.

“Kitten. It suits you. You try and roar but deep inside you’re only purring.”

I pushed my hand against his chest, both hating and loving how good it felt being this close. I finally pushed away, the wash of heat becoming far too overwhelming. “I never purr. Am I allowed to ask questions starting tonight?” He seemed disappointed I’d driven him away.

“You can ask anything you want, kitten. Just realize some questions might not receive answers. There are certain aspects regarding our business and its success that many of our enemies would pay a pretty penny to get their hands on.”

“Just like the reporter did with the exposé on television? Providing ammunition?”

He snorted. “Deception does sell.”

The sounds of the city caught my attention and I shifted my attention to the lovely balcony, the wire-style railings surprisingly modern. The breeze was light and warm, the scent of the delectable food he’d mentioned moments before wafting into the air.

He joined me, leaning over the railing far enough my acrophobia kicked in. “Be careful or you’ll fall.”

“Are you worried about me, kitten?”

“Contrary to what you might believe, I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“Does that mean you’ve been forced to witness many crimes?”

I brushed hair from my face as I studied him. “I’m from New York. I’ve seen more than my share of violence.”

“Ah, yes. New York. Don’t worry. I’m skilled in many areas. I know my limitations.”

“Mountain climbing. Lion taming. No, wait. Maybe you serve as a lumberjack from time to time.” While he’d been photographed on a sailboat and in a fancy sports car, nothing had been written about his extracurricular activities. Unless seducing beautiful women was on that list.

“Hmmm… All sound spectacular, but maybe I’m not as talented as I think. Try again.” His face was tilted in my direction. I couldn’t help but wonder if he openly challenged everyone he met.

As he moved, the dim lighting caught his watch and my attention. “You’re a scuba diver.”

My discovery pleased him, his eyes twinkling. “Yes. I’ve been diving for years, although I’ve found it difficult to find the time as of late. Business has kept me preoccupied.”

“Your watch gave it away. My father has one very similar although I’m certain yours is much more expensive.”

“A gift from my father. He taught me when I was a young boy about respecting marine life.”

“Mine did too.”

“You’re also a diver,” Havros stated, also surprised.

“Didn’t I tell you I have many hidden talents? There is nothing more exceptional than the peace and quiet divers experience. Just the sound of your own breathing and often in my case, my rapidly beating heart. Diving makes me as anxious as it does excited.” Why was I telling him anything about myself? I’d been in a position more than once where sharing personal information had been used against me.

The lessons had been painful.

Plus, I was lying to his face. I could never go diving again. That joyful experience had taken from me, stripped down to sheer terror. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want him to know anything could scare me. This was all about business anyway. Nothing else.

“There is no greater power than that of the sea. At least according to Pops. However, in my mind there’s no greater power than that of a man-eating shark. I came up close and personal with one as a teenager.” I sensed he’d made the statement to try to lighten my mood.

“Ouch and I beg to differ. My bet is on a man such as yourself being the greatest power of all. Intelligent, sophisticated, well versed in several languages. A man like that could take over the world.”

“Then you overestimate me, gatáki . I am a man of simple needs and determined business practices, albeit not on the dangerous side.”

“Why don’t I buy that?”

“Because you’re searching for answers you’ve already provided for yourself. Yet most are incorrect. Open your mind, vivacious one. Only when you do will the truth befriend you.”

“Now, you’re a poet.” I lifted my glass in appreciation. “You seem to want me to know about the man you are after hours instead of the one conducting business.”

Every time he walked closer, I was stymied how to act, uncertain I was even breathing. His moves weren’t threatening, but they were an attempt at controlling me. “Tell me something, Kara. Is this side you prefer to present the one that doesn’t show off your true personality? Or is the woman standing in front of me the one who feels most alive?” He lifted his arm and I instantly stiffened.

“I don’t how to answer that. I believe every one of us is forced to wear a uniform. While yours might be your hand-tailored suits and mine from an off-the-rack discount clothing store, they’re similar in that they help identify what people can expect. At least in business, but we all have at least two sides.”

He curled his fingers, gently rubbing his knuckles across my cheek. The light touch was scintillating, but not overtly sexual. Why did I have the feeling he was used to being around plastic replicas of women. They were perfectly coiffed with twenty-four-inch waists and huge busts, and superbly tanned with golden blonde locks. In my mind, they couldn’t carry on an intellectual conversation to save their lives.

Or maybe I was just expressing sour grapes since I was no bathing beauty.

“In some worlds, a person’s image is everything. But not necessarily in yours. But I do agree with you. I have many sides myself. I’m eager to learn more about every side of the woman standing in front of me.”

“You’re not interviewing me, remember.”

“Learning more about you will provide the trust factor you might imagine I need. Come. You must be hungry.” He waited until I moved inside before he followed, immediately guiding me to the side of the apartment I’d yet to see.

As soon as he guided me into his kitchen, I was genuinely floored. “This is exactly the kind of kitchen I hope to have one day. Look at the size of it.” Another truthful statement. “All Wolf appliances. Amazing. And eight burners.”

With granite counters in an infusion of color so vibrant they seemed luminescent, highly glossed cabinets, and modern lights with a gothic flair, I was absolutely in love. Even the mosaic tile floor was perfectly matched. The room was warm and inviting, a space meant for entertaining.

Havros observed my reaction as he reached into the massive commercial freezer, pulling out a second bottle of Stoli. I slipped onto one of eight barstools surrounding the kitchen island, doing nothing more than scanning every inch of the space.

“Then you approve?” he asked as he slid my glass back toward me after refilling.

“Very much so. This is straight out of Architectural Digest . You could do your image some good by being photographed right here in this space. Looking exactly the way you are. Maybe you could even don an apron, although I’m certain you’ve never cooked a day in your life.”

I hadn’t noticed a dimple until he offered a smile under the light. He took a hefty sip of his drink before heading to the oversized pantry. After opening one of the doors, he pulled out something that I wasn’t able to see from where I was sitting.

“I’ll think about it. You don’t have a large kitchen?”

“Oh, please. Finding an apartment with a kitchen bigger than a bread box takes months of waiting on lists created by nasty landlords and money I don’t have. When I’m at my apartment, I usually get takeout.”

“Tsk. Tsk. The art of making love is similar to cooking. You must caress your food to bring the flavor to its peak existence.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You are a very unusual man.”

“Would you prefer a stodgy old guy with a beer gut?”

I burst into laughter. “I’ve interviewed my share of those. I’ve even had a couple come onto me.”

“Here, kitten. Take this.” He tossed one of two items in his hand. His expression had changed. Was he angry with what I’d just told him?

I caught it in midair, confused as to what I was looking at. “An apron?” Just as I lifted my head, he was pulling ties from a second one around to knot in the front of his waist.

“An apron. No man should ever place his hands on a beautiful woman when not allowed.”

“Some men don’t respect either a woman or her space. They think they own anything they so desire.” It was my turn to goad him.

The heavy scowl remained. “Yes, you are quite correct. Some men only think with their dicks.”

“Very true. What are the aprons for?”

He cocked his head, placing his hand on his heart as if he couldn’t breathe. “For cooking?”

“I thought you didn’t have any staff.” Was he suggesting what I thought he was?

“I don’t. Of course other than Lurch.” Winking, his eyes swept over me as I eased the neck over my head. “Trust me. You don’t want him cooking your dinner.”

“O-kay. Then what are you doing? Are you going to cook something, highlight your delightful culinary skills?”

“Not me, kitten. Us. We’re going to cook dinner. Together.”