The Greek's Nine-Month Redemption. Maisey Yates

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      Elle had to take two steps to his one, her high heels clicking loudly on the marble floor as she hurried after him. “I am not wrong. It doesn’t offer the whole picture. You can’t possibly know how the company is really functioning. How each worker impacts the creative process. Matte isn’t just a magazine. It’s a line of cosmetics, a fashion brand. We have books and—”

      “Yes,” he said, stepping into an elevator, “thank you, I am very familiar with how my assets function.”

      “Then you should be aware of the fact that I have strategies in place that require all of the manpower I possess. Initiatives that take time to launch but will catapult this brand into worldwide recognition.”

      “Yes. So you said last time we met. And, unlike you, I don’t drift off in meetings.”

      She growled and charged into the elevator after him. “I did not drift off.”

      He pushed the button to the lobby and the doors slid closed. Then he turned that dark, unsettling focus onto her. The air around them seemed to shrink, rendering the already crowded space impossibly tight. “No. I don’t believe you did, Elle,” he said, his voice as silken as his movements. “You were looking at me with a great deal of intensity. Too much to be on another planet entirely. What was it you were thinking about exactly?”

      “Driving a pen through your chest,” she said, smiling.

      Because she would be damned if she’d say, Tearing your clothes off and seeing if you’re as good in reality as you are in my dreams.

      Even though she felt like that reality was written all over her face, across her skin in the red stain of a blush.

      He offered her a wry smile. “You know I can’t be killed like that. You have to cut my head off and bury it in a separate location to my body.”

      “I’ll let the hit men know.” She turned and smiled at him again, and he offered one in return.

      The doors slid open, revealing the rather vacant bottom floor. Matte shared its offices with many other businesses, and with penthouses on the top floor. At this hour of the day not many people were coming and going.

      “Where is it you’re staying, Apollo?” she asked. “A crypt somewhere in Midtown?”

      “The one just next to yours, Elle,” he said, his tone light. “After you.”

      He extended his hand, waiting for her to step out of the elevator. She swept past him, moving through the lobby and going through the revolving doors. She stepped on to the busy Manhattan sidewalk, put her sunglasses on and stood there, tapping her foot.

      Apollo emerged a moment later, straightening his suit jacket and standing across from her for a moment.

      “Care to continue shouting at me while I walk?” he asked.

      “I’m not shouting at you. I’m calmly explaining to you why you’re wrong in your methods of handling my company.”

      He turned away from her, walking down the crowded street, his broad back filling her vision.

      “Apollo!” Okay, she was shouting now. “We are not through with our meeting.”

      “I think we adjourned it.”

      “The general meeting,” she said, upping her pace. “But we are not done.”

      “I’m just here,” he said, gesturing to an old boutique hotel only two buildings down from the Matte offices. “Since I’m in town primarily to deal with Matte I thought I should stay close.”

      “Congratulations. How sensible.”

      “I have my moments. Judging by the fact that I’m a billionaire who successfully staged a takeover of your father’s company, I’ve had several moments, actually.”

      “If you were as clever as you think you are you would listen to my plans for Matte. The answer isn’t to reduce us down to nothing. You have to let me try and expand it, otherwise we really will die.”

      “You’re assuming I’m trying to save you, dear Elle. Perhaps I just want to pull the plug.”

      “You... You...” She was sputtering now. She never sputtered. She blamed him.

      “Villain. Scoundrel. I answer to any of those really.”

      “You have always been a competitive son of a bitch, but this is above and beyond.”

      “You’re assuming this is a competition.”

      “What else could it be? You’re ungrateful. For everything my father gave you. And for the fact that he didn’t give you everything.”

      He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Oh, you mean that he didn’t give me his corporation, or Matte, in the first place? Why do you think he installed you, Elle? Your competence? No. He gave you the position to keep a foothold once I bought him out.”

      The words landed hard, hollowing out her midsection. Leaving nothing but a crater behind.

      Like you didn’t suspect that already.

      She had. Of course she had. But the fact he knew it meant it was obvious. Possibly to everyone.

      The doorman opened the golden door for them and Apollo paused to tip him before continuing on. Elle opened her purse and produced her own dollar, handing it to the man before going in after Apollo.

      She was not allowing him to do her tipping for her.

      “I am in the penthouse suite. It’s very nice.”

      “Why am I not surprised that I just got out of a meeting where you were discussing tightening belts for my company, and yet you’re staying in the penthouse suite.”

      He pushed the button for the elevator and the doors slid open. She followed in after, starting to feel slightly out of breath.

      “I am not in need of money, agape, if that’s why you thought I was mentioning cuts.”

      Agape. She hated that. He’d started using that on her sometime when she was in high school. Just to make her angry. And some small part of her grabbed hold of it every time, holding it near. Love.

      Oh, what a ridiculous, stupid...

      She really hated her hormones.

      “Why else would you mention cuts?” she asked, keeping her tone sweet.

      The doors slid shut and she had the uncomfortable feeling of being trapped in a closed-in space again.

      “Because you need the money. Matte needs the money. In a digital world your print publication is lagging and while you have certainly come up with innovative ways to compete, you haven’t leveled out yet.”

      “But if you have enough—”

      He chuckled. “I don’t run a charity. I run a business. My corporation turns profits. That’s what it

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