Heiress's Defiance by Lynn Raye Harris

her to his office she would come willingly—breathlessly—and he would be able to shut the door and take her in his arms if that’s what he desired.
    And then he’d decided he would
have
to make love to her again just to keep her pliable and cooperative while he reshaped the Chatsfield holdings and rehabilitated their reputation. It would not be a hardship to do so and when he was finished, when the work was done, he could let Lucilla down gently.
    It had been the perfect plan. Until she’d refused his summons. Until she’d sat at her desk, looked at him all cool and businesslike and told him she was grateful he’d left so she wouldn’t have to ask him to leave. He’d felt as if he’d landed in an alternate reality inwhich the tables were turned and he was the supplicant.
    He did not like it. Not one bit.
    Christos raked a hand through his hair and then went to fling himself in his chair. Lucilla was nothing to him. Nothing whatsoever. If she wanted to pretend they’d never been lovers, he was fine with it. More than fine. So long as she did her job, he didn’t care what she did on her off time—or whom she did it with.
    Yet he remembered her telling him last night, with that breathless little hitch in her voice, that it had been a long time since she’d had sex. He’d felt the tension in her body, the tremors that shook her, and he’d experienced a rush of tenderness for her in that moment.
    He was her first in a long time. It was a crime since she was so beautiful, but after working with her for the past couple of months, he knew why she didn’t take lovers. She was too uptight, too focused on the work.
    Well, so was he. He had a job to do here and that was the most important thing. It had always been the most important thing. He’d vowed in the juvenile-detention center that he would never allow himself to react emotionally again. He’d had to fight almost daily at first to establish his dominance, but once hehad he’d turned to the library and read every last book they had.
    When more books came, he read those, too. When he was released at eighteen, he’d changed everything about himself—his name, his accent, his manners, his education—and become someone new. There was no reason to remain the person he’d been. His mother was dead and his father was a bastard who would never again mess with the son he’d beaten senseless more than once.
    From that day forward, Christos had been a new man. He never looked back.
    He rubbed a hand over his temple as he read through the reports on his computer screen. Yes, he dreamed sometimes. He could still taste the fear and rage he’d felt that night in his parents’ home, and all the other nights when his brute of a father had come back after falling off the wagon and carousing in bars. The life they’d led had been good for long stretches of time, punctuated by bouts of hell. It was the hell that had shaped him into the man he’d become.
    And it was that hell he couldn’t quite forget, no matter how successful he became or how far behind he left the angry, abused boy he’d been. That boy still came to him in dreams, and no matter how Christos tried totell him it would be okay, the boy didn’t know it. He was scared and angry and he did things he shouldn’t do.
    The intercom buzzed and he punched the button impatiently. “What is it?”
    Sophie’s voice was professionally detached, but he knew she wasn’t particularly a fan of his. Not after he’d sent her to secure Nicolo Chatsfield’s attendance at the shareholders’ meeting. She’d come back a different woman than when she’d left. But she’d accomplished the impossible and that’s all he cared about.
    The impossible was his specialty, after all.
    “It’s Ms. Chatsfield, sir. She’s here to see you.”
    Christos didn’t like the little stab of excitement that speared into him at the thought. “Send her in.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The door opened and Lucilla stood there, remote and