All That Glitters

  Then an idea struck her. He had given it to her himself. Why not let him believe that she had been so mistreated that she feared all men now? He had seemed receptive to that idea…

  "I don't want to talk about it," she muttered, keeping her face turned into his shoulder.

  His arms tightened about her. "You have to talk about it," he said forcefully, putting his mouth against her temple. "You have to get it out in the open, where you can understand it."

  "I—I don't think I can," she said breathlessly, for his arms were preventing proper breathing. "Give me time, Nikolas."

  "If I must," he said into her hair. "I won't hurt you, Jessica; I want you to know that. I can be very considerate when I get what I want."

  Yes, he probably could, but he was thinking only of an affair while she was already beginning to realize that her heart was terrifyingly open, his for the taking—except that he didn't want it. He wanted only her body, not the tender emotions she could give him.

  His hands were moving restlessly, one stroking over her back and bare shoulders, the other caressing her thigh and hip. He wanted to make love, now, she could feel the desire trembling in his body. She groaned and said, "No, Nikolas, please. I can't—"

  "I could teach you," he muttered. "You don't know what you're doing to me; a man isn't a piece of rock!"

  But he was, pure granite. Her slim body arched in his arms as she tried to slip away from him. "No, Nikolas! No!"

  He opened his arms as if he was freeing a bird and she slid from his lap to the floor, sitting on it like a child, her head resting on the sofa. He sighed heavily. "Don't wait too long," he advised, his deep voice hoarse. "Run upstairs and do whatever you have to do before we go for a drive. I have to get out of here or there won't be any waiting."

  He didn't have to tell her a second time. On trembling legs she ran upstairs, where she combed her hair and put on makeup, then changed her shoes for modest heels. Her heart was pounding wildly as she returned downstairs to him. She hardly knew him, yet he was gaining a power over her that was frightening. And she was helpless to prevent it.

  When she approached him, he stood and pulled her close with a masterful arm, and his hard warm mouth took hers lazily. When he released her, he was smiling, and she supposed he had reason to smile, for her response had been as fervent as it was involuntary.

  "You'll be a blazing social success," he predicted as he led her to the door. "Every man will be at your feet if you continue to look so fetching and to blush so delightfully. I don't know how you can manage a blush, but the how really doesn't matter when the result is so lovely."

  "I can't control my color," she said, miffed that he should think her capable of faking a blush. "Would you rather your kisses had no effect on me?"

  He looked down at her and gave her a melting smile. "On the contrary, my pet. But if it's excitement that brings the flush to your cheeks, I shall know when you are becoming aroused and will immediately whisk you away to a private place. You must tell me all of your little signals."

  She managed a careless shrug. "Before you whisk me away to be ravished, I suggest that you first make certain I'm not in the midst of a fight. Anger brings on the same reaction, I'm told. And I don't imagine that even your backing will smooth away all the rocks!"

  "I want to know about any rocks that stub your toe," lie said, and his voice grew hard. "I insist on it, Jessica. I won't have a repeat of the sort of trash I read this morning, not if I have to muzzle every gossip columnist in London!"

  To her horror, it did not sound like an empty threat.

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  When the doorbell rang, Jessica went very still. Nikolas put his hand on her waist and squeezed gently, then that hand urged her inexorably toward the door. Involuntarily she resisted the pressure and he looked down at her, his hard mouth curving into a dry smile. "Don't be such a little coward," he mocked. "I won't let the beasts eat you, so why not relax and enjoy it?"

  Speechless, she shook her head. In the few days that she had known Nikolas Constantinos he had taken her life and turned it upside down, totally altered it. This morning he had given his secretary a list of people to call and invite to his penthouse that night, and naturally everyone had accepted. Who turned down Constantinos? At four o'clock that afternoon Nikolas had called Jessica and told her to dress for the evening, he would pick her up in two hours. She had assumed that they would be dining out again, and though she hadn't looked forward to it, she had realized the futility of resisting Nikolas. It wasn't until he had her at his penthouse that he had told her of his plans.

  She was angry and resentful that he had done all of this without consulting her, and she had scarcely spoken to him since her arrival, which seemed to bother him not at all. But underneath her anger she was anxious and miserable. Though well aware that, with Nikolas backing her, no one would dare be openly cold or hostile, she was sensitive enough that it didn't really matter if their dislike was hidden or out in the open. She knew it was there, and she suffered. It didn't help that Nikolas''s secretary, Andros, was there, his contempt carefully hidden from Nikolas but sneeringly revealed to her whenever Nikolas wasn't looking. It had developed that Andros was a second cousin to Nikolas, so perhaps he felt he was secure in his position.

  "You're too pale," observed Nikolas critically, pausing with his hand on the handle to open the door. He bent and kissed her, hard, deliberately letting her feel his tongue, then straightened away from her and opened the door before she could react in any way other than the delicate flush that rose to her cheeks.

  She wanted to kick him, and she promised herself that she would have his hide for his arrogant action, but for now she steeled herself to greet the small clusters of people who were arriving. Stealing a glance at Nikolas, she saw that his hard masculine lips wore a light coat of her lipstick and she blushed anew, especially when several of the sharp-eyed women noted it also, then darted their glances to her own lipstick as if matching the shades. Then he stretched out one strong hand and pulled her closer to his side, introducing her as his "dear friend and business partner, Jessica Stanton." The dear friend description brought knowing expressions to many faces, and Jessica thought furiously that he might as well have said "chere amie," for that was how everyone was taking it. Of course, that was Nikolas's intention, but she did not plan to fall meekly in with his desires. When the second half of his introduction sank in, everyone immediately became very polite where for a moment she had sensed a direct snub. Chere amie was one thing, but business partner was another. He had made it obvious, with only a few well-chosen words, that he would take any insult to Jessica as an insult to himself.

  To her surprise and discomfiture, Nikolas introduced one tall, smartly dressed blonde as a columnist, and by the pressure of his fingers she knew that this was the gossip columnist who had written that vicious little bit about her for the Sunday paper. She greeted Amanda Waring with a calm manner that revealed nothing, though it took all of her self-control to manage it. Miss Waring glared at her for a fraction of a second before assuming a false smile and mouthing all of the conventional things.

  Her attention was jerked back to Nikolas by the spectacle of a stunning redhead sliding a silken arm about his muscular neck and stretching up against him to kiss him slowly on the mouth. It wasn't a long kiss, nor a deep one, but nevertheless it fairly shouted of intimacy. Jessica went rigid as an unexpected and unwelcome flame of jealousy seared her. How dare that woman touch him! She quivered and barely restrained herself from jerking the woman away from him, but if Nikolas himself hadn't released the woman's arm from his neck and stepped back from her, she might still have created a scene. The glance Nikolas gave her was as apologetic as one could expect from him, but the effect was ruined by the gleam of amusement in the midnight depths of his eyes.

  Deliberately Nikolas drew his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the redhead's coral-beige lipstick from his mouth, something he hadn't done when he had kissed Je
ssica. Then he took Jessica's hand and said, "Darling, I'd like you to meet an old friend, Diana Murray. Diana, Jessica Stanton."

  Lovely dark blue eyes turned on Jessica, but the expression in them was savage. Then the soft lips parted in a smile. "Ah, yes, I do believe I've heard of you," Diana purred.

  Beside her, Jessica felt Nikolas turn as still as a waiting panther. She tightened her fingers on his hand and responded evenly, "Have you? How interesting," and turned to be introduced to Diana's escort, who had been watching with a guarded expression on his face, as if he didn't want to become involved.

  Despite Nikolas's bombshell, or perhaps because of it, the room was fairly humming with conversation. Andros was moving from group to group, quietly taking over some of the duties of the host, thereby freeing Nikolas for the most part. For a while Nikolas steered Jessica about from one small knot of people to another, talking easily, bringing her into the conversations and making it obvious by his possessive hand on her arm or the small of her back that she was his, and had his support. Then, callously, she felt, he left her on her own and went off to talk business.

  For a moment she was panic-stricken and she looked about, hunting for a corner seat. Then she met Andros's cold, smiling look and knew that he expected her to make a fool of herself. She took a firm grip on her wavering nerves and forced herself to approach a small group of women who were laughing and discussing a current comedy play. It wasn't until she had joined the group that she saw it contained Amanda Waring. Immediately a little silence fell over the women as they looked at her, assessing her position and wondering just how far good manners went.

  She lifted her chin and said in a calm voice, "Isn't the lead role played by that actress Penelope something-or-other who was such a smash in America last year?"

  "Penelope Durwin," supplied a plumpish, middle-aged woman after a moment. "Yes, she was nominated for their best-actress award, but she seems to like live theater better than films."

  "Aren't you an American?" asked Amanda Waring in a velvet little voice, watching Jessica with her icy eyes.

  "I was born in America, yes," said Jessica. Was this to become an interview?

  "Do you have any plans to return to America to live?"

  Jessica stifled a sigh. "Not at this time; I like England and I'm content here."

  Conversation ceased for a stiff moment, then Amanda broke the silence again. "Have you known Mr. Constantinos long?" Whatever Amanda's personal feelings, she was first and foremost a columnist, and Jessica was good copy. More—Jessica was fantastic copy! Aside from her own notorious reputation, she was apparently the current mistress of one of the world's most powerful men, an elusive and sexy Greek billionaire. Every word that Jessica said was newsworthy.

  "No, not for long," Jessica said neutrally, and then a different voice broke into the circle.

  "With a man like Nikolas, it doesn't take long, does it, Mrs. Stanton?" purred a soft, openly hostile voice. Jessica quivered when she heard it and turned to look at Diana, meeting the woman's impossibly lovely blue eyes.

  For a long moment Jessica looked at her quietly and the silence became so thick that it was almost suffocating as they all waited to see if a scene would develop. Jessica couldn't even summon up anger to help her; if anything, she pitied this gorgeous creature who watched her with such bright malice. Diana so obviously adored Nikolas, and Jessica knew how helpless a woman was against his charm, and his power. When the silence was almost unbearable, she replied gently, "As you say," and turned back to Amanda Waring. "We met for the first time this past Saturday," she said, giving the woman more information than she had originally intended, but she would be foolish to let the woman's antagonism live when she could so easily put it down.

  Her ploy worked. Miss Waring's eyes lit, and hesitantly the other women rejoined the conversation, asking Jessica if she had any plans to visit Mr. Constantinos on his island. They had heard it was fabulous; was he leaving England soon; was she going with him? In the midst of answering their questions Jessica saw Diana leave the group, and she gave an inward sigh of relief, for she had felt that the woman was determined to provoke a scene.

  After that, the evening was easier. The women seemed to unbend a little as they discovered that she was a rather quiet, perfectly well-behaved young woman who did not act in the least as if she coveted their husbands. Besides, with Nikolas Constantinos to control her, they certainly felt safe. Though he kept himself to the knot of men discussing business, every so often his black eyes would slide to Jessica's slim figure, as if checking on her. Certainly his alert gaze convinced any unattached male that it would be wise not to approach her.

  Only once, when Jessica slipped away for a moment to check her hair and makeup, did she feel uneasy. She saw Diana talking very earnestly to Andros, and even as she watched, Andros flicked her a cool, contemptuous look that chilled her. She hurried away to Nikolas's bedroom and stood for a moment trying to calm her accelerated heartbeat, telling herself that she shouldn't be alarmed by a look. Heavens, she should be accustomed to such looks!

  A knock on the door made her shake off her misgivings and she turned to open the door. Amanda Waring stood there. "May I disturb you?" she asked coolly.

  "Yes, of course; I was just checking my hair," said Jessica, standing back for the woman to enter. She noticed Amanda looking around sharply at the furnishings, as if expecting black satin sheets and mirrors on the ceilings. In fact, Nikolas was rather spartan in his tastes and the large bedroom seemed almost bare of furniture. Of course, the huge bed dominated the room.

  "I wanted to speak with you, Mrs. Stanton," began Amanda. "I wanted to assure you that nothing you said will be repeated in my column; Mr. Constantinos has made it clear that my job hangs in the balance, and I'm not a fool. I stand warned."

  Jessica gasped and swung away from the mirror where she had been smoothing her hair. Horrified, she stared at Amanda, then recovered herself enough to say frostily, "He did what?"

  Amanda's thin mouth twisted. "I'm sure you know," she said bitterly. "My editor told me this morning that if another word about the Black Widow appeared in my column, it would not only mean my job, I would be blacklisted. It took only a phone call from Mr. Constantinos to the publisher of the newspaper to accomplish that. Congratulations, you've won."

  Jessica's lips tightened and she lifted her chin proudly. "I must apologize for Nikolas, Miss Waring," she said in calm, even tones, determined not to let this woman guess her inner turmoil. "I assure you that I didn't ask him to make the gesture. He has no use for subtlety, has he?"

  In spite of the coldness in the woman's eyes, her lips quirked a bit in humor. "No, he hasn't," she agreed.

  "I'm sorry he's been so nasty. I realize you have a job to do, and of course I'm fair game," Jessica continued. "I'll have to talk with him—"

  The door opened and Nikolas walked in, staring coldly at Amanda Waring. "Miss Waring," he said forbiddingly.

  Immediately Jessica knew that he had seen the columnist enter the room after her and had come to her rescue. Before he could say anything that would alienate the woman even more, she went to him and said coolly, "Nikolas, have you really threatened to have Miss Waring dismissed if she prints anything about me?"

  He looked down at her and his lips twisted wryly. "I did," he admitted, and his glance slashed to Amanda. "I won't have her hurt again," he said evenly, but his tone was deadly.

  "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you, Nikolas," Jessica said tartly.

  "Of course you are," he said indulgently, as if she was a child.

  Furious, Jessica reached out for his hand and dug her nails into it. "Nikolas—no. I won't stand by and watch you throw your weight around for my benefit. I'm not a child or an idiot; I'm an adult, and I won't be treated as if I don't have any sense!"

  Little gold flames lit the blackness of his eyes as he looked down at her, and he covered her hand with his free one, preventing her nails from digging into him any longer. I
t could have looked to be a loving gesture, but his fingers were hard and forceful and held hers still. "Very well, darling," he murmured, carrying her hand to his mouth. After pressing a light kiss on her fingers, he raised his arrogant black head and looked at Amanda.

  "Miss Waring, I won't mind if your column mentions that the lovely Jessica Stanton acted as my hostess, but I won't tolerate any more references to the Black Widow, or to Mrs. Stanton's financial status. For your information, we have just completed a business deal that was very favorable to Mrs. Stanton, and she has not, is not, and never will be in need of funds from anyone else."

  Amanda Waring was not a woman to be easily intimidated. She lifted her chin and said, "May I quote you on that?"

  Suddenly Nikolas grinned. "Within reason," he said, and she smiled back at him.

  "Thank you, Mr. Constantinos…Mrs. Stanton," she added after a moment, glancing at Jessica.

  Amanda left the room and Nikolas looked down at Jessica with those little gold lights still dancing in his eyes. "You're a little cat," he drawled lazily. "Don't you know that now you'll have to pay?"

  Not at all frightened, Jessica said coolly, "You deserved it, for acting like a bully."

  "And you deserve everything you get, for being such a provocative little tease," he said, and effortlessly pulled her into his arms. She tried to draw away and found herself helpless against his iron strength.

  "Let me go," she said breathlessly, trying to twist away from him.

  "Why?" he muttered, bending his head to press his burning lips into the hollow of her shoulder. "You're in my bedroom, and it would take only a slight tug to have this gown around your ankles. Jessica, you must have known that this gown would heat the blood of a plaster saint, and I've never claimed to be that."

  She would have been amused at his statement if the touch of his mouth on her skin hadn't sent ripples of pleasure dancing through her veins. She was glad that he liked her gown. It was provocative; she knew it and had worn it deliberately, in the manner of a moth flirting with the flame that will singe its wings. It was a lovely gown, made of chiffon in alternating panels of sea green and emerald, swirling about her slim body like waves, and the bodice was strapless, held up only by the delicate shirring above her breasts. Nikolas was right, one tug would have die thing off, but then, she hadn't planned on being alone with him in his bedroom. She saw his head bend down again and she turned her mouth away just in time. "Nikolas, stop it! You have guests; you can't just disappear into the bedroom and stay there!"