Damn brat.
But he was more amused than annoyed, just as how big brothers typically were, and a part of him was secretly pleased that his little sister still sought his help. Very well, he thought generously. He would—
A slender but full-breasted woman walked past him, head bent, gaze pinned to the book she was reading. He caught sight of her lips curved in a fond smile, and something about it was so intensely familiar that it had him spinning around to keep her in his line of vision.
The color of her hair was some divine shade between auburn and burgundy, with the lightest streaks of cinnamon, and her clothes were casual-slash-sporty, a black hoodie paired with matching sweat pants and shoes.
His gaze continued to follow her even as he tried to figure out what made her feel different and familiar at the same time.
Just something about her…
He watched her take one of the desks at the unreserved area. Watched her plug her ears and take a sip of her coffee before reaching for her iPad. She started typing. Kept typing. Was still typing even by the time he folded his length into one of the available desks across hers.
He pretended to read a book even as once in a while his hooded gaze would drift towards her. She had to know by now he was staring at her. But not once did she meet his gaze, and it didn’t feel as if she was playing coy.
Interesting.
He came back to Associate the next day and tried to hide his impatience as he made some excuse to Katya about why he hadn’t flown back to Athens as scheduled. He didn’t want his little sister to know of his interest in the other woman; if she was what he believed she could be, then he didn’t want to risk having Katya baulk at his plans to make the woman his mistress.
Days turned into weeks, but she still remained pretty much a mystery, mostly because she stuck to herself and the only time he saw her talking to another member, it had to be a man (fuck you, Wyatt-somebody).
It was also that one time he had heard her name mentioned – Schuyler – and had found himself savoring her name in his thoughts. Schuyler. The name perfectly fitted her, but he also felt instantly possessive about it. He wanted to be the only one to call her that and no one else.
And when it became clear to Ioniko that she was actually deliberately ignoring him, it only amused and intrigued him all the more. As soon as the perfect opportunity arose, he seized it and followed his beautiful little doll into the kitchen, just as a lion would corner a sweet unsuspecting lamb.
And in that moment, he found out everything he needed to know.
The way she had stiffened when he came close. The way she had held her breath and closed her eyes. The way he could practically feel her body throb into life at the mere proximity of him.
Ah, koukla mou.
That was when he knew.
She wanted him back.
If their first encounter was all his own doing, their second one made it seem as if the Fates were on his side. Being trapped in an elevator with another woman was, unfortunately, nothing new to Ioniko. The first time it happened, he had been sixteen, and his classmate’s mother had been the type of cougar who craved for teenage cocks. After that, it happened twice in his mid-twenties, and another time in his early thirties. All of it had been staged, involving either money or some other trade, and if it had been any other woman but Schuyler, he would’ve thought the same thing had happened again.
A woman, deliberately trapping herself in an elevator with Ioniko, in order to seduce him.
But since this was Schuyler…
It had been a struggle for Ioniko to keep his face expressionless while Schuyler’s on the other hand went from shock to horror, and he almost lost it when she actually started glaring at the ceiling.
“I hope you’re not blaming God for this.” Ioniko’s amusement deepened when Schuyler only shook her head in response. Most other women would have leapt at the chance to engage him in conversation, but this woman…
“It should only take a while for maintenance to get the elevator up and running again.” Another voiceless answer by way of a nod, and Ioniko’s lips pressed together in a concentrated effort to remain unsmiling. Ah, koukla mou. Did his beautiful doll truly believe such responses were enough to hide the obvious?
It was in the way she kept looking away and then looking back at him right after. The way she couldn’t seem to stand still. The way she kept licking her lips. She wanted him, alright, but equally obvious was how much she was fighting against her attraction to him.