Pollyanna and the Greek Billionaire (Innocent and Betrayed, Part 2) (6 page)

“Oh. I see. That’s good.” Pollyanna wasn’t exactly sure what to say. She didn’t really mind a long flight since she was also looking forward to exploring Kyr’s jet. Behind her, she completely missed the irate looks on the socialites’ faces, since none of them had access to a private jet. They were rich, but they were not and would never be in the same league as Kyrillos Gazis.

When the pilot left, Pollyanna looked at her husband in askance, wondering why they weren’t leaving, too. But he only shook his head at her.
 

Kyr was patiently biding his time. He was nothing but thorough when destroying his enemies, and as far as he was concerned, anyone who had even a nasty thought in their mind about his wife was someone to be demolished.

When the socialites finally left, he waited for a good five minutes before telling Pollyanna, “Let’s go?” He only smiled at her curious look and scooped Dio into his arms while Pollyanna carried Ella.

He held her hand as they stepped out of the lounge, and Pollyanna was startled when someone in the airport hallway shouted, “It’s them!” She looked up, and her eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing in shock as a crowd of paparazzi surged towards them, leaving behind a now-ignored group of socialites.

When she realized what Kyr had done, she looked up at him in exasperation.
Did you have to go that far?

He shrugged.
Not far enough.

And she realized he meant every word when they made it to the private jet and again there was an unexplained delay before takeoff. Thinking there was a technical issue behind it, Pollyanna focused on getting the twins settled in a private room that had been converted into their play area. When she came out, it was to find the same group of socialites lined up at the lounge, stiff smiles pasted on their faces.

“Would you like anything, Mrs. Gazis?” Their tones were just as stiff as the rest of them.

Okay…

Kyr appeared in the doorway, and his tone was languid as he asked, “Well, psaraki? Anything you want to have them do? They’re for you to order about. Their families, you see, do business
for
us—”
 

Pollyanna winced at the emphasis.

“—and since I’ve made it known I’m in need for more staff for our flight, they have kindly offered their services.” He paused. “As
contract workers
.” He gave her a pleasant smile. “So what’s it to be? Do you want them to kneel and beg for your forgiveness and promise they wouldn’t be stuck-up bitches for the rest of their lives? Perhaps kiss your feet, too?”

The suggestion so shocked his wife that she ended up giving him his favorite blowfish look, and the lethal edge of his temper somewhat cooled at the sight of it.
 

“I…d-don’t think we need extra staff,” Pollyanna finally mumbled when it was clear that Kyr wasn’t going to budge until she made a decision.
 

Lucky for them,
Kyr thought. Even though he still had half a mind to have the women serving them until the end of the flight, Kyr knew it would only make his wife uncomfortable and so he dismissed the socialites with a curt nod, saying in an exaggeratedly polite tone, “Please get the fuck out of here.”

They didn’t need to be asked twice.

When they were alone, Kyr met Pollyanna’s stunned gaze calmly. “You didn’t really think I’d let them get away just like that?”

Another blowfish look.

It had him impatient, exasperated, and more than anything else,
aroused,
and he yanked her to him, making Pollyanna gasp in shock as she stumbled against his chest.

He kissed her hard, muttering against her lips, “I will never let anyone hurt you.”
 

“I know.” She kissed him back sweetly, and cupping his face, she placed whisper-soft kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his jawline—

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
 

She stopped what she was doing, giving him an innocent look as she asked, “What am I doing?”

“I’ve seen you do this countless times to the twins when they feel frustrated.”

Her blue eyes blinked up at him. “So you
are
frustrated?”

He expelled his breath in a hiss. “You know I still want to kill them—”

She shook her head hastily. “Please don’t. It would be silly if you go to jail because of them.” He suddenly took her hands, and her heart skipped a beat and another when he pressed his lips to them.

“The day I married you, I swore to myself to make you the happiest girl on earth,” he muttered roughly.

“And I am,” she said emphatically, unable to understand why he wouldn’t think she was.
 

He shook his head. “Making you happy means not letting anything hurt you, and…” His jaw clenched. “I only realized now, after listening to those bitches talk…I never thought to ask you.
Are you happy with your life now
?” His grip on her hands tightened as he bit out, “You may be a billionaire’s wife, but what they said was true. What all the tabloids have pointed out is true. I’ve never taken you anywhere, and the kids have tied you down—”

Pulling her hands out of his hold, she placed one finger on his lips. “Stop.”

He stilled.

“I love my life. I love the twins, and I love you.”

And goddammit, even after three years of marriage, those stars in her eyes were still shining brightly than ever.

Need burned hot and demanding inside of Kyr, and without a word, he walked towards the main door of the lounge and locked it. He went to the CCTV camera and pointed it downwards. When he walked back to her, she gasped, having realized what he was about to do.

“The kids,” she protested.
 

“Are too busy playing,” he finished, not stopping his stride.

She continued backing away. “But the staff will know—”

But Kyr only shrugged. “You gave birth to my twins,
psaraki.
Surely you didn’t think the whole world believes the storks gave them to us?”

Pollyanna turned red. “But it’s not—” She couldn’t speak anymore, her husband having taken her mouth hungrily.
 

“I want you now,” he bit out just before spinning her and gently but firmly pushing her down.

Dazed, Pollyanna found herself bent over a desk while her husband pushed her skirt up.
 

Oh. Dear. Lord.

Was this really happening—

She couldn’t help whimpering as she felt her husband’s large, strong hands running down her legs while pulling her panties down. Oh. Dear. It was really—

“Ah.”
She couldn’t help moaning, her legs tensing as she felt the head of his cock nudge at her already slick opening.

And then it was going inside, and all she could do was close her eyes and let her husband take her, like they both knew she wanted. He cupped her breasts from behind, playing with her nipples as he pounded into her, and she could only clutch at the desk, her body helpless and wanton against the raw force of his desire.

His hard breathing made her toes curl, and when he leaned close to bite her ear, she arched in shock, the blazing pleasure making her head whirl. “Kyr,” she gasped. Her eyes closed as his thrusts became wilder. “Oh, Kyr!” Her orgasm came out of nowhere, and she cried out, her body shuddering.
 

Pollyanna’s pleasure triggered his, and with a rough groan, he thrust hard into his wife, holding to her tightly as he spilled his seed inside of her. Even as the last tremors of their climax faded, he stayed inside her, his semi-erect cock still throbbing.
 

Behind Pollyanna, her husband’s breath fanned her hair, as if he was inhaling her scent. She closed her eyes as she felt his lips graze her neck and she couldn’t help smiling a little when she felt the nip of his teeth on her shoulder, as if marking her as his territory.

One of his hands was still clasping her breast, and she covered it with hers, murmuring drowsily, “Love you so much.”

Her too-macho husband still didn’t answer, but it was okay.

Actions spoke louder than words, and she was content.

Chapter Six

“How much do you think this photo would fetch if we have the gossip rags bidding for it?” The question came from Damen Leventis, who had just sauntered inside the kitchen with his usual air of arrogance. A billionaire like his friends, he possessed intensely handsome looks that left his female fans in awe as much as his business tactics rendered men in the corporate world speechless in admiration.

“I wouldn’t know,” Stavros Manolis answered politely as he followed his friend inside. “But I’d probably pay a million euros myself, just to have the privilege of sharing it on social media.”

“Assholes.”
 

But this only made the two men smirk because the sight of the famously alpha Kyrillos Gazis, wearing a damn apron, was too much not to make fun of.
 

“Did you invite us here to show off your newly acquired skills?” Damen drawled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kyr didn’t answer right away, too busy making sure that he didn’t mess up as he carefully pulled out the cake from the oven. He had baked it from scratch, and while it didn’t exactly look like the photo on the recipe from the Internet, he told himself it would surely taste as good.

Behind him, his friends burst into laughter.

“White-colored shit, right?” Damen guessed.

Stavros was slightly more diplomatic. “Just use your billions, Gazis, and do yourself and your wife a favor. Buy a cake.”

“I can’t.” Kyr studied the cake grimly. “She wanted me to bake the cake tonight.” And if anyone, he thought broodingly, had told him years ago he would bake a cake just because a certain someone had asked, he would have thought that person was insane.

And yet here he was, having baked a goddamn cake.

“You lost a bet, didn’t you?” Damen clucked his tongue in sham sympathy.

Before he could answer, the door to the kitchen swung open again, and this time it was his wife, with one twin holding each of her hands.
 

The kids brightened at the familiar faces of his friends.

“Uncle Stavros, Uncle Damen.”
 

The two crouched down so the kids could kiss their cheeks, and after they straightened up to greet Pollyanna as well.
 

“Keep your hands up where the husband can see it,” Damen warned Stavros as the other man bent to kiss Pollyanna’s cheek. “You remember that report on Dubai, right?”

Kyr scowled. “That was an exaggeration.”

His friends exchanged looks and smirked.
 

“Yeah, sure,” Damen said, but his tone was patently unconvinced.

Pollyanna grinned but didn’t say a thing. Something she would never admit to her husband, because she knew how perverse he could be, was the fact that she loved it when he was possessive and jealous over her.

Which he had been so, quite terribly, in Dubai,
Pollyanna reminisced. While they had been at Dubai’s airport, something about the color of her hair seemed to draw every Arab man’s attention towards her. This had not sat well with her husband at all, and she had found herself dragged to the first Arab clothing store and made to wear the women’s traditional costume.
 

It left her covered, head to toe, with only her eyes visible.
 

Kyr had been satisfied.

Her daughter Ella had taken one look at her and gasped in awe, “Jasmine,” referring to the Disney princess.

But her son Dio had not recognized her at all and burst into unmanly tears, crying, “Where’s Mama?”

Dio had been so distraught that Kyr immediately got rid of the costume, settling instead for a wide-brimmed hat that did little to cover her hair. The entire time Kyr had seethed beside her, she had felt like the most desirable woman in the world. While she would never try to make him jealous, it did feel good when it happened.

“It’s my wife’s birthday today.” Kyr’s voice brought her back to the present.

“Happy birthday,” his friends readily said, both of them wearing dazzling grins that she knew the public didn’t always see from them.