A Deal with Demakis. Tara Pammi

      Nikos smiled as the slip of a woman snatched the file from him. Clutching the file to her body, she moved to the high-end shredder, ripped the pages with barely controlled vehemence and pushed them in.

      With his photographic memory, he didn’t need to refer to the file, though. She was twenty-three years old, grew up in foster care, had little to no education, worked as a bartender at Vibe, a high-end club in Manhattan and had had one boyfriend, the charming Tyler.

      Based on the personal history between her and Tyler, and the codependent relationship between them, Nikos had expected someone meek, plain, biddable, easily led, someone with no self-esteem.

      The woman standing in front of the shredder, while small and not really a beauty, didn’t fall into any of those categories. The tight set of her shoulders, the straight spine, even her stance, with her legs apart and hands on her hips, brought a smile to his face. The fact that she wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting—really, though, what kind of a woman would be concerned about her lover’s new girlfriend?—meant he would have to alter his strategy.

      She turned around, dark satisfaction glittering in her gaze. The hum of the shredder died down leaving the air thick with tension.

      He ran his thumb over his jaw. “Are you satisfied now?”

      “No,” she said, her mouth set into a straight, uncompromising line. “Whatever you might have read in that file, it should tell you I’m not an idiot. It was one paper copy I shredded. You and your P.I. still have the soft copy.”

      He raised a brow as she picked up the paperweight from his desk and tossed it into the air and then caught it. “Then what was the point in shredding it?”

      Up went the paperweight again, her blue gaze, alight with defiance, never wavering from him. “A symbolic act, an outlet because as much as I wish it—” she nodded at the shredder behind her and caught the paperweight in a deft movement “—I can’t do that to you.”

      Nikos reached her in a single step and caught the paperweight midair this time, his hand grazing hers. She jumped back like a nervous kitten. “I mean you no harm, Ms. Nelson.”

      “Yeah, right. And I’m a Victoria’s Secret model.”

      Laughter barreled out of him. Her blue eyes wide, she stared at him.

      She was no model with her boyish body and nonexistent curves. Yet there was something curiously appealing about her even to his refined tastes. “I think you’re a foot shorter—” he let his gaze rove over her small breasts, and her hands tightened around her waist “—and severely lacking in several strategic places.”

      Crimson slashed her cheeks. She lifted her chin, her gaze assessing him, and despite himself, he was impressed. “Why the power play? You didn’t open that file in front of me to double-check your facts. You wanted me to know that you had all that information on me. Is that how you get your kicks? By collecting people’s weaknesses and using them to serve your purpose?”

      “Yes,” he replied, and the color leached from her face. He has no delusions about himself. He was by no means above using any information in his hands to gain the upper edge in business or life. And especially now when it concerned his sister’s well-being, he would do anything. If you didn’t protect the ones who depended on you, what was the point of it all? “I need you to do something for me and I can’t take no for an answer.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      DISBELIEF PINCHING HER mouth, she stared at him. “It didn’t occur to you to just ask nicely?”

      He covered the distance between them, shaking his head. She stepped back instantly, but not before he caught her scent. And racked his brains trying to place it. “Nicely? Which planet are you from? Nothing in this world gets done with please and thank you. Hasn’t your life already taught you that? If you want something, you have to take it, grab it with both hands or you’ll be left behind with nothing. Isn’t that why you robbed that house?”

      “Just because life gets hard doesn’t mean you lose sight of the good things.” Her hands tightened around the strap of her bag, her skin tugged tight over her cheekbones. “I robbed the house because it was either that or starve for another day. It doesn’t mean I’m proud of my actions, doesn’t mean I don’t wish to this day that I had found another way. Now, please tell me what happened to Tyler.”

      Her words struck Nikos hard, delaying his response. The woman was nothing short of an impossible paradox. “Venetia and he were in a car accident.”

      Her face pale, she flopped onto the leather couch behind her, her knees tucked together. “Physically, there’s not a scratch on him,” Nikos offered, the pregnant silence grating on his nerves.

      She pushed off from the couch again. “The person who called me made it sound like it was much worse. I kept asking for more details but he wouldn’t answer my questions.”

      She walked circles around him, running long fingers over her bare nape. Once again, the boyish cut only brought his attention to her delicate features. Bones jutted out from her neck, the juncture where it met her shoulders infinitely delicate.

      Her knuckles white around her bag, she came to a stop in front of him. Shock danced in her face. “It was your doing. You had one of your minions call me and make it sound like that. Why?”

      He shrugged. “I needed you to be here.”

      “So you manipulated the truth?”

      “A little.”

      Her forehead tied into a delicate little frown, she cast him a sharp look.

      “I don’t have a conscience when it comes to what I want, even more so when it comes to my sister, Ms. Nelson. So if you are waiting for me to feel guilty, it’s just a waste of time. Except for a hitch in his memory, your ex is fine.”

      “A hitch in his memory?”

      “A short-term memory loss.” He leaned against his desk. “To my sister’s eternal distress, he doesn’t remember anything of their meeting, or their plans to marry.”

      He paused, watching her closely, and right on cue, the color leached from her face.

      Her teeth dug into her lower lip. “They are engaged?”

      He nodded.

      She ran a shaking hand over her nape again. “I don’t understand why you are telling me this.”

      “All he remembers is you, and he keeps asking for you. It’s driving Venetia up the wall.”

      He thought he would see triumph, pure female spite. Because whatever else he might think, Venetia had stolen Tyler from this woman. He braced himself for a deluge of tears, OMGs and “why-did-this-happen-to-me?”s. At least, that’s how Venetia had reacted, even though she had been pretty unscathed from the accident. But once the doctors had informed them about the memory loss, it had become worse as though she had taken on the leading role in a Shakespearean tragedy. And contrary to his expectations, that their relationship would lose its appeal, Venetia had only held on harder to Tyler.

      Seconds ticked by. Ms. Nelson stared out through the glass windows, but the tears didn’t fall. She took a deep breath, pressed her fingers to her forehead and turned toward him. “Where is he now, Mr. Demakis?”

      The glimmer of stark pain in her eyes rendered his thought process still. Much as he would detest it, he wanted her to throw a tantrum. That he could handle. This quiet pain of hers, the depth of emotion in her eyes, however, he wanted no part of it.

      It reminded him of another’s pain, another’s grief so much that a chill swept through him. He had worked very hard to keep his father’s face neatly tucked away. And he wanted to leave it that way. “On our island in Greece.”

      “Of course, it is not enough that your sister and you are gorgeous. You have to own an island, too.”

      He