At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim. Trish Morey

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At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim - Trish Morey

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I’ve finished with you I’ll talk to her and she will tell me the truth.’

      The implied threat brought her up onto her knees. ‘You stay away from her! You touch her again and I’ll—’ she swayed ‘—I’ll call the police.’

      He laughed. ‘We both remember what happened the last time you did that.’

      Numb, Selene stared at the floor, knowing it was hopeless.

      They hadn’t believed her. Or if they’d believed her they’d refused to act. Her father was charming, powerful and able to buy his way out of trouble. At first her sense of justice had been shaken. She’d realised that she had no one until one night, lying in the darkness, she’d realised that she didn’t need anyone. Maybe no one else could solve this for her, but she could solve it for herself. Which made it doubly frustrating that she’d blown her chance.

      He prowled around her and she knew from the look in his eyes that the moment he’d finished with her he would start on her mother.

      Something sharp pressed into her hand and she looked down and saw that she’d fallen onto one of the jagged remnants of all that was left of a glass candle-holder.

      She closed her hand over it, careful to avoid cutting herself on the sharp edge. And this time when her father came in swinging she closed her eyes and plunged the glass into his wrist. He gave a howl of pain and staggered backwards. It wasn’t enough to stop him but it was enough to slow him down and Selene didn’t waste a moment of her advantage. She forced herself to her feet and stumbled from the room, slamming the door behind her as she ran from the villa. He would chase her, of course, and that was what she wanted. Because if he chased her then he wouldn’t be going for her mother.

      She just had to hope that his temper burned itself out before he killed them both.

      Stefan manoeuvred the sleek speedboat as close to the rocks as he dared. He’d picked the north side of the island, judging the currents to be less savage. His yacht was moored further out to sea where the waters were deeper and he’d launched the tender and indulged himself in a few minutes of speed and spray as he’d skimmed the surface of the sparkling ocean towards the towering cliffs of Antaxos. But that spurt of adrenaline had been brief. Negotiating the rocky approach to the island had taken all his skill and concentration.

      He let the engine idle as he assessed the distance between boat and rock, judging the rise and fall of the sea. Between both lay fathoms of swirling water, ready to swallow up victims, but Stefan had no intention of being anyone’s victim. Judging it perfectly he sprang, lithe as a panther, landing safely and gesturing for his team to take the boat back out.

      Takis followed him. His movements were clumsier and Stefan shot out a hand to steady him as he veered dangerously close to the water.

      ‘Didn’t sign up for this. You could have picked a nice girl from the centre of Athens, boss,’ Takis muttered, his face scarlet as he found his balance. ‘But, no, you had to go for the pampered princess guarded by the dragon. Working for you is never boring.’

      Pampered princess.

      Stefan felt a stab of guilt. Hadn’t he made the same mistake?

      Like everyone he’d been fooled by the image the tycoon had spun for the world. The adored wife. The much loved, overprotected daughter. The happy family.

      He suspected the truth was much bleaker. Almost as bleak as this island.

      Antaxos.

      He stared at the narrow path that led up the cliffs to the grey, fortress-like building at the top.

      As a child, he’d spent hours thinking about this place. Powerless, he’d conjured up images of the almost mythical island and imagined himself storming its rocky shores. Something had burned inside him and it burned still, confusing the past with the present.

      He wasn’t powerless now. He’d made sure of it. From the day his father had brought him the sickening news, through choking tears he’d promised himself—promised her—that one day he was going to be a man of power. His quest for that had become the driving force in his life, and when he’d lost his father, too, his drive had simply increased.

      A sound made him look up.

      Four men dressed in black approached down the path. Bulky men, built like gorillas, whose sole purpose in life was to stop people getting close to their reclusive billionaire boss. If the rocks hadn’t killed you, these men probably would.

      ‘This is a private island. You are not allowed to land here.’

      Stefan stood his ground, legs spread, using that power he’d sweated blood to gain. ‘You might want to rethink the warmth of your welcome.’

      They drew closer. ‘There is nothing here for tourists. You need to leave right now.’

      ‘I’m not a tourist and I’ll leave when I’m ready.’ Timing it perfectly, Stefan removed his sunglasses and the man stepped back. Recognition was followed by alarm.

      ‘Mr Ziakas!’ Thrown, the gorilla exchanged a dubious glance with his two colleagues. ‘Mr Antaxos doesn’t receive visitors here.’ But the tone had changed. There was caution now. Respect for the reputation of the man facing them. Respect and just a touch of fear because there were so many rumours about the past life of Stefanos Ziakas. ‘You should leave.’

      ‘I’ll leave when I have the girl. Where is she?’

      They exchanged nervous glances. ‘You can’t—’

      Judging that they were too scared of their boss to be of use to him, Stefan strode past them towards the ugly stone building perched on the hill. His insides churned.

      Images blurred in his head and he paused, reminding himself that this was about Selene and no one else.

      There was a commotion behind him but he didn’t turn his head, knowing that Takis could handle all four of them with his eyes closed. Providing he didn’t slip on the rocks and fall in the water.

      A faint smile on his mouth, Stefan swiftly climbed the steep path. He was just calculating the most likely place for an overprotective father to lock away his daughter when Selene came flying down a set of steps that led to the path. There was blood on her face, on her hands and streaked through that beautiful pale hair. She was running so fast she almost crashed into him and he closed his hands round her arms to catch her, using all his strength to stop her propelling both of them off the cliff and onto the rocks below.

      Her eyes were dazed, almost blank, and he could see now that the blood came from a cut on her head.

      Swearing under his breath, Stefan turned his head and ordered Takis to bring the first-aid kit from the speedboat. Then he turned back to her, touching that blonde hair with gentle fingers as he assessed the damage.

      Her eyes finally focused on him. ‘What are you doing here?’

      If he’d been expecting a warm welcome he was disappointed because she twisted in his grip, but he was so afraid she was going to go over the edge of the cliff he kept hold of her.

      ‘Keep still. You’ll fall.’

      ‘I know this path. I’ve lived here all my life.’

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