“No. Yes. I just really wish you wouldn’t drink when you go somewhere with us.”
“That coffee you gave me sobered me right up,” he said, taking her by the elbow.
She watched him from the corner of her eye as Marcel called an elevator up for them. She had to admit that a shower and copious amounts of coffee had seemed to do wonders for Theo. His face had lost that slack look, and his eyes looked unglazed, if a little bloodshot.
“Why do you drink so much?” She asked him when they were in the car, heading across town to the banquet.
“Why do you love Iakovos?” he shot back.
She was a little taken aback. “I love him because he’s . . . well . . . I just do.”
“Exactly. I drink because I do.”
“Yes, but—”
“Harry.” He gave her knee a little squeeze, then immediately removed his hand. “I don’t even have a little buzz now, OK? So stop fussing, and tell me about this dinner we’re going to. All Jake said was that it was important to you, and he didn’t want you going to it alone.”
“It’s just a publishing dinner, but it’s being held as part of a big multigenre readers’ conference where there’ll be a lot of women, so I expect you to be on your best behavior. Although I suppose really the dinner we’re going to will be pretty boring for you. I’m going to give a short speech, and then my publisher will give a speech, and so on. I just want you to promise that you’re not going to hit the bar or go into the main ballroom.”
“Come on, Harry. I know there’s been some bad blood between us, but I’m here for you now, and I’m not going to let you down. What’s in this ballroom you don’t want me to see?”
She sighed, her shoulders drooping. Why, oh why couldn’t Iakovos have been here? “That’s where the erotica readers are having their . . . dinner.”
“So?”
“I just don’t want you going there, OK? We’ll be in an auxiliary meeting room, so don’t wander around.”
“Whatever you like,” he said, giving her another smile to which she had a hard time not responding. “I won’t even look at another woman.”
It wasn’t his behavior with women that worried her. It was what the ladies in that ballroom would think if they got a look at him.
“So long as you keep your nose clean, no one will notice us,” she said, and prayed that was true.
It wasn’t, of course. The second she showed up in the room set aside for her publisher’s dinner, every female eye was on Theo. By now, she was used to what she mentally termed the Papaioannou Effect, but it still irked her to see her own editor rush over to Theo and start cooing and flirting shamelessly.
“Isn’t he gorgeous!” Carmel said an hour later, having managed to tear herself away from Theo only when Harry reminded her that she was married with grandchildren. “And you’re marrying his brother?”
“A brother who is even better-looking,” she said, nodding.
Carmel looked at her with awe. “I can’t even begin to imagine. How do you keep your hands off him?”
“I don’t,” she said, patting her stomach. “Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Well, better you than me. I don’t know if I could cope with having a man who every woman lusted after. Oh, dear god, look at those interns! They’re practically shoving Theo’s hands down their dresses! I’d better go intervene before one of them starts molesting him.”
Things settled down once the younger female members of the publishing staff were dissuaded from fawning over Theo, and Harry was able to give her speech with a modicum of calm. But it was a short-lived calm, one completely shattered when she returned to the room from a visit to the bathroom.
Not many guests remained as the dinner concluded, just a few of the older publishing house employees chatting in groups. None of the younger women remained, however. Nor was Theo in sight.
Harry asked the few people remaining in the room, but they hadn’t seen Theo leave. She went first to the hotel’s bar, but he wasn’t there. It wasn’t until she passed the ballroom and heard screams and whoops of joy that a truly horrible thought occurred to her.
CHAPTER 17
I akovos sighed with relief at the sight of the bags, towels, and various items of clothing strewn around the living room of his suite. Not a terribly fastidious man himself, he was amused that Harry couldn’t be in a room for more than five minutes without making it look as if a whirlwind had hit it.
A glance at his watch told him that she was probably off having dinner with Theo, but soon she would be back, and then he would be able to give himself up to all the pleasures to be found in reacquainting himself with his delicious, delectable, wonderfully wild goddess.
He pulled out his phone and dialed her number as he peeled off his suit coat and tie, heading for the shower. “Hello, sweetheart. Enjoying your dinner?” he asked when she answered.
“I did, until I lost Theo.”
“Lost him? How did you lose him?”
“I don’t know. He’s just gone, and no, he’s not in the bar. I checked. I was just going to see if he’d gone outside for a breath of air.”
“Did you call him?”
“Yes. He’s not answering his phone.”
“Well, he’s probably—” Iakovos stepped into the room that served as his bedroom and stopped, unable to believe what he was seeing.
“There’s one place he could be, but I’m praying he isn’t there, because if he is . . . lord. He’s not outside. I’ll have to check the ballroom after all.”
“Eglantine,” he said, breathing heavily through his nose.
“Not now, Yacky, I have to start praying really fast that Theo isn’t where I think he is.”
“Why,” he said, enunciating each word very carefully, “is our bedroom covered in feathers?”
Silence filled his ears.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, a dangerous note in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that you broke up with your last girlfriend mere days before we met?”
For a few seconds he couldn’t see what the one had to do with the other. Then he realized that she was jealous. He almost laughed out loud at the thought. “I don’t know. It didn’t seem to be important.”
“Well, it is.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Very.”
“Why?”
She sputtered for a few seconds. “I don’t know why! It just is!” she yelled into his ear.
He chuckled to himself. Could this woman be any more wonderful? “Eglantine, have I mentioned that my previous lover and I broke up a week before you arrived on my island?”
“No, Yacky, you didn’t. Have I mentioned that I am going to hang up this phone and kiss the very first male I see? In fact, I see one right now, a gorgeous specimen, too, with curly blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, and just as soon as I’m done giving you a piece of my mind, I’m going right over to him, and I’m going to plant one on his lips. What do you think about that, Mr. I Didn’t Think It Was Important?”
“Would the male that you happen to be looking at be under the age of five?” he asked, stripping off his trousers, ignoring the feathers as he made his way to the bathroom.
“Damn you!” she snarled, and hung up the phone.
It didn’t take him long to dress—in Theo’s feather-free room—and take a cab down to the hotel to find Harry. He didn’t like the idea of Theo giving her any grief, not when she had been so wary around him since that night at his house.
He found the banquet room where her dinner had been held, but it was empty, and there was no sign of where she’d gotten to.
He was about to text her when a group of three women emerged from an elevator, screamed, and rushed over to him. “It’s another one! Oh my god, you’re even better than the other model!”
“Pardon?” he asked in his most austere voice, removing the hand that one of the women had clamped on his arm.
“You’re here for the model competition, right? Oh my god, I??
?m totally voting for you,” the grabby woman said, all but swooning at his feet.
“I’m not here for any competition. I’m here to find— Another one?” A nasty suspicion began to grow. “Is there a man who looks similar to me at this competition?”
“Oh, is there ever. He’s winning, too,” a second woman said, fluttering her lashes at him. “Or he was until his wife came in and made him stop dancing. But day-am, you can dance for me any day.”
He swore under his breath, promising Theo retribution that would make the heavens quake as he demanded to be shown where the “competition” was being held.
The ballroom was filled with women in various stages of intoxication, cheering and screaming as a man in a G-string strutted down a makeshift runway, while loud, pulsing music blared from a sound system.
Lights flashed, momentarily dazzling him as a photographer standing at the back noticed him. He swore again, detached the fawning woman from his arm, and marched into the room, searching for Harry or Theo.
“That’s contestant number twelve, ladies,” a woman at a podium announced as the music came to an end and the male dancer sauntered off the stage. “And now, good news—contestant number twenty-two has graciously agreed to do an encore!”
A woman’s voice screeched, “Over my dead body he has!”
His head lifted. He knew that screech. The curtains to a flimsy backstage area fluttered and Theo strolled out, thankfully wearing his pants, but his tie was hanging loose around his neck, his shirt open to the waist, and he struck a pose as more music started. Lipstick marks were scattered across his chest, neck, and face like some sort of horrible pox. Just as Iakovos reached the stage, a fury burst out from behind it in the form of Harry, who threw herself in front of Theo, her arms spread wide as if to protect him. The two photographers in the back of the room started snapping pictures.
“Back off, ladies!” Harry yelled. “Theo, for the love of god, get off the stage!”
“Yes, Theo, get off the stage,” Iakovos shouted over the pulse of the music.
Harry’s head snapped around, her mouth an O of surprise for a few seconds before she hurried over to him, relief filling her face. He lifted her down to the floor, keeping one arm around her as the women crowded the stage, still cheering and hooting.
Theo’s face was flushed beneath the lipstick, but he was too involved with grinding his way down the runway to notice when a large male hand reached up, grabbed the back of his shirt, and pulled him off it.
“Hey, Jake,” Theo said, his eyes far too bright and his words not quite slurred, but too liquid for Iakovos’ peace of mind. “You want a turn, too? The ladies are having some sort of a contest, and the winner gets to be on a book cover.”
“We’re going home,” Iakovos said, mindful of the photographers who were trying to get closer to them. “Now!”
“God, you’re no fun now that you have a woman,” Theo muttered, but he gave in to the hold Iakovos had on his shirt and allowed himself to be pushed out of the room. Harry clutched Theo’s jacket, which she silently handed to them once they were past the gauntlet of women, most of whom were now booing.
“Iakovos—” she started to say.
“Not here.” He inclined his head toward the photographers. “Later.”
She was a smart girl, his tempest. She gave him one worried look, then slapped a smile on her face and halted when the photographers called for her to stop. “Let’s have a few pictures of the Papaioannou brothers!”
“Put your jacket on and wipe your damned face,” Iakovos snarled in Greek to Theo. Harry, obviously trying to give him a moment to put Theo to rights, moved in front of them and asked the photographers if they were enjoying the competition.
“Parts of it, yes,” the male photographer said, winking at her. “What’s your name, darling? And which brother are you with?”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not with Theo,” Harry said indignantly, taking Iakovos’ arm.
As she turned in profile the photographers’ eyes widened, and they took several more shots. “You going to be a father, Iakovos?”
“When’s the happy event?”
“Who’s the lady?”
“Theo taking up modeling?”
The questions were shot at him with the force of a cannon. He had long familiarity with the press, however, so he simply posed with a tight-lipped Harry and said, “The lady is my fiancée, and yes, she’s expecting. She’s also very tired, and I’d like to get her home, so if you’re through, we’ll be on our way.”
They weren’t through, of course; their sort never was. He ignored them, however, making a fast call to alert Mikos to be ready for them, after which he shoved Theo out the door and put his arm firmly around Harry in an attempt to protect her.
Harry was mortified and furious at the same time. She waited until they were safely inside the car before collapsing against Iakovos’ chest, fighting to keep back tears of shame. “I’m so sorry,” she told him, breathing in his wonderful scent. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” he asked, his hand rubbing her back. “Unless you poured liquor down Theo’s throat and pushed him onto that stage, you don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“No, of course I didn’t do either, but he was here because of me, and I feel horribly responsible.” She suddenly sat up straight, indignation filling her as she glared at the privacy window. Iakovos had Mikos dump Theo on the front seat, rather than in the back with them. “Although for the love of god, how did Theo get drunk in the time it took me to pee?”
“What happened, exactly?” Iakovos asked, his voice calm, but that muscle in his jaw that liked to jump around when he was controlling his anger was leaping as if it were on a trampoline.
She gave a succinct account of the evening. “I swear I don’t know how he got from the room we were in to the ballroom so quickly, but judging by the way some of those ladies were lit up, I suspect that once they got a look at his face, they just swept him along.”
“Giving him drinks as they did so.” The muscle jumped again as Iakovos glanced at the front window.
“He’s an alcoholic, Iakovos. He needs help,” she said, taking his hand and rubbing his knuckles on her cheek.
“He’s uncontrolled. He just needs to stop screwing around and start taking life seriously.”
She opened her mouth to argue the point, but his jaw muscle was going into overtime, so instead she relaxed against him, gently stroking his thigh. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”
“You did that time, but if you move your fingers half an inch, you won’t miss me at all.”
What on earth was he talking about? She looked down to his thigh, which she was alternately squeezing and stroking. He was obviously aroused. She pursed her lips as she glanced first out the window, then again at the privacy window between the back of the car and the driver’s area.
She looked at Iakovos again, who was watching her with a little smile teasing his lips.
“Well?” he said, obviously leaving the decision to her.
“You have no idea how tempted I am, but Theo could wake up at any moment and decide he wants to sit back here with us. Besides, I have an entire list of things I want to do to you, and I couldn’t possibly work my way through it before we got back to the hotel.”
“That’s a shame,” he said, his fingers stroking down her arm in a touch so erotic that a little buzz of electricity ran through her groin. “I’ve always wanted to do it in a car.”
“You’ve never made love in a car?” She couldn’t believe it.
He shook his head, his eyes smoldering.
“Me, either, but that is totally going to the top of my fantasy list,” she told him with a kiss, moving her hand that half inch.
He shifted in the seat, giving her better access, his hand now stroking her back.
“Jacket,” she told him, moving away.
Without a word, he peeled off his tuxedo jacket. She tossed it on the other seat, th
en moved to kneel on the floor in front of Iakovos. She spread his knees, reaching for his belt, pausing to ask, “You’re sure Mikos can’t see?”
“I’m sure.”
“And people outside?”
“Neither can they.”
She glanced over her shoulder, but the black privacy window did indeed appear to do exactly what its name implied.
He was watching her with a half smile on his lips, his gaze burning her, his hands open and relaxed on the seat.
“Well, then, I believe I need to welcome you home properly.”
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I want to.” She loosened his belt buckle, feeling very wicked, very worldly. He was hard, and growing harder with each brush of her hand against his fly. She slid the zipper down, reveling in the heat of his erection behind the silk of his underwear. She slid it down for better access, admiring the pure male length of him, bending to press little kisses to his testicles. She always made sure she paid equal attention to the prosthetic one, because she didn’t want Iakovos believing that she found anything about it repugnant, and, to be honest, she wouldn’t have known it wasn’t real if he hadn’t shown her the little scars on the underside.
“Let’s see . . . I don’t believe I ever did get that constructive criticism I asked for in Greece,” she said, giving the tip of him a little swirl of her tongue.
He groaned, his eyelids drooping. “I had none to give. Your technique is excellent.”
“I don’t know, if you can still talk, then it must be lacking somehow.” She bent her head to her task, and soon had him swearing under his breath, his hands fisted on his legs as his hips rose to meet her.
“Sweetheart, I can’t . . . god, this is going to be close.” He grabbed her under her armpits, pulling her over him, his fingers moving under her dress to find her underwear. With a little grunt he snapped the thin satin straps, pulling the panties off her.
“Theo!” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder.
“Sleeping. Now, sweetheart, now.”
He thrust upward to meet her as she lowered herself onto him, his penis a hard intrusion into her sensitized flesh.