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Claimed for His Duty. Tara PammiЧитать онлайн книгу.

Claimed for His Duty - Tara Pammi


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How was he supposed to believe that she could look after herself?

      “Then why did you?”

      “I don’t want to wage a war against you, Stavros. It’s... my last choice. I bring it up because I was...shocked to hear her name after so many years. That you see her apparently on a weekly basis.”

      “Shocked to learn that I keep in touch with a woman I admire?” he said, choosing his words carefully.

      Looking anywhere but at him, she nodded. The fine sheen of color in her cheeks snagged his attention.

       Brazen, reckless Leah was uncomfortable?

      “I remembered that Calista...she talked so much about you guys. That you were made for each other,” she said, her gaze wandering off into the distance.

      The look in her eyes was a compelling blend of pain and ache that Stavros had never seen before. Did she truly mourn Calista that much? “Leah?”

      She blinked and then curved her mouth. But the artifice of the action wasn’t lost to him. “You would be free. To be with her.”

      “You want me to be with Helene?” he said, shocked.

      “Yes.” She took a sip of water, her gaze lingering on him. “Of course, I would prefer it if you were as miserable as you’ve always made me, but if your happiness is the price of my freedom...then so be it.”

      “That’s very magnanimous of you, Leah.” The whole conversation was twistedly perverse. “I’m surprised you remember her. Or anything from that time.”

      His dig bounced off her. “Her resume is far too impressive to forget. Businesswoman, fashion icon, former model and the best of all, the one who could stand up to Stavros Sporades’s infinitely impeccable standards for a woman.”

      He stared at the almost cynical twist of her mouth, something in her tone grating at him. “You have quite the opinion about her.”

      “Of course, I do. I was obsessed with...” Coloring, she trailed her gaze away from him. “How successful she was at such a young age.”

      He had a curious feeling that it wasn’t what she meant to say. If he compartmentalized his abhorrence for everything Leah represented and his unwise awareness of her every move, he could admit that Leah was funny and resilient as hell.

      The more he pondered that, the more he realized how true it was.

      Despite losing her father suddenly in a car accident and being thrust into an unfamiliar world that Giannis and he lived in, he had never seen her morose or down.

      That same selfishness that he abhorred also lent her a strange strength. It was as if she stood behind a veil that separated her emotions, her very self from the people around her.

      “So was all that food to please the waiter?”

      “Where are your manners, Stavros?”

      “All my finer qualities disappear like a mist when it comes to you, Leah.”

      “I was running this afternoon. So all that food is for me.”

      Stavros nodded, understanding the toned litheness of her body. “What happened to walking out the flat and the job? To letting your little lawyer loose on me?”

      He saw her still for a second before she turned toward him. “I... Philip advised me to not do anything rash.”

      “And you listened.” Which meant she trusted him, which meant Stavros needed to know everything about him.

      The waiter brought the food and she grabbed a fork. A satisfied sound erupted from her mouth, drawing the gaze and attention of more than one man sitting at the neighboring tables.

      She looked up from her food suddenly and blushed. “So what is your offer?”

      “I’m proposing a compromise.”

      “Nothing you ever suggest is a compromise. It will be your will, only couched in deceptive words. You did the same thing to...”

      At the sudden glint in his gaze, Leah fiddled with the fork and looked away.

      “To whom?”

      Her shrimp suddenly tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Leah swallowed it down with a sip of her water. “To me and Calista, of course, countless times. Anything she proposed, you forbade it.”

      Like the time when she had wanted to study art in Paris one year, and when she had wanted to travel to New York with Leah. Like the time when Calista had wanted to start bartending at a nightclub where her friend had worked.

      And when he refused her, one of Calista’s rages would begin. Just the memory rattled Leah on a deep level. Calista had had a temper but she had hidden it so thoroughly from her brother.

      “For instance?” he added softly, and Leah blinked. “You looked so pained just now, tell me what you were thinking, Leah.”

      The inherent command rankled Leah, and yet, beneath it, she sensed his eagerness, his curiosity. That there could be more to Stavros than rules and duty...it threw her.

      He had only been in his twenties when she had arrived in Athens, and yet, all she remembered about Stavros was his incredible sense of responsibility and duty toward all of them.

      For the first time, she wondered what drove him to it.

      Her curiosity tempered her response. “Why do you want to know?”

      He blinked now, as if he couldn’t believe that she dared question him. No, it wasn’t that. Dumbfounded, she watched as he struggled to put his thoughts into words. “I... Even though I gave her everything she could ever want, I never understood—” something in her loosened as he visibly swallowed “—why Calista chose to follow your lead, how I failed to protect her.”

      The anguish in his gaze sent memories and impressions hurtling through Leah. Her shoulders shook. “I don’t know—”

      “Not that I expect you to know the answer, when you’re the one who led her to drugs.”

      Her head jerked up.

      Arrogant implacability wreathed his features. As if he had realized who he was talking to. As if there could be nothing but contempt between them.

      “No, of course not,” she whispered, buffeting herself against the immense hurt his words caused. Leah put her fork down.

      Despite all her grand plans and ideas for adventures, Calista had never even lifted a finger in the house. Whereas Leah, whose mother had died giving birth to her, had always done more than her share to help out her dad even from a young age.

      My saintly brother has servants for that... It had been her favorite thing to say when Leah would suggest cleaning up or cooking sometimes.

      She had been sixteen and afraid and grieving in her own way. How much of her understanding of Calista would hold up today? For a minute, it seemed she and Stavros had found something common in their grief over Calista.

      But no, the past was done. She had to look forward to the future.

      Collecting herself, Leah looked up at him. “Tell me what I have to do.”

      He studied her for the longest time. Each falling second twisted her gut. “Live with me for three months and prove that I can trust you.”

      “No.” The table rattled with the force of her movement.

      “This is the only way I will even consider it.”

      “What do you expect me to do these three months?”

      “Convince me that you’re serious about this fashion design career, that you won’t drain your inheritance on some trumped-up business.”

      “The vote of confidence in your tone is really inspiring.”

      That hardness


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