Free Trust: Betrayed by Cristiane Serruya

shower. I’m sweatyyyy-”
    In a quick movement, he snaked her by the waist and dragged her onto the bed, “How dare you leave me alone in bed!”
    “Hey! I’m sweaty all over!” she scolded.
    “I forgot! Not cold, not hot.” He laughed as he rolled over her. “But it seems you do sweat. What are you doing out of bed?”
    “I was working out. I didn’t have any time yesterday and tomorrow I only work out for half an hour before I have to leave for Cambridge.”
    He kissed her mouth leisurely and whispered on her lips, “I could have given you a better work out. In fact, I think I will,” he ran his hands over her sides, grabbed her thighs, opening them and set himself between them.
    “No, no, no. It’s eight o’clock. I have to shower and go to therapy.”
    “You’re not leaving me like this,” he flexed his hips, showing her his aroused state.
    “My, Alistair. Do you take viagra?”
    “Viagra?” he chuckled. “Oh, no. Now you’re going to pay.” He pulled her top over her head, knotting it at her elbows, binding her arms above her head and cupped her breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples. “A quickie... Mmm?” he asked as he showered her breasts with kisses.
    She moaned, “I have to shower.”
    He removed the top from her arms and jumped off the bed, holding out his hand to her, “Come. Let’s shower.”
    “Alistair Connor,” she frowned at him and crossed her arms under her breasts, “you’re impossible.”
    He laughed out loud, too happy to care about the hour, and picked her up in the arms, humming in masculine satisfaction as she let him do what he would.

Chapter 4
    Greece, Mykonos. Niarchos Angepopoulos’s house.
    Thursday, January 26 th , 1989.
     3.53 p.m.
    A dry knock on the door brought Ethan’s head up from the book he was reading.
    “Come in,” he said in Greek.
    Suddenly, the big room became small as Niarchos Angepopoulos entered his grandson’s bedroom. Niarchos was not a big man; by no means fat, tall or handsome. But he exuded such charisma that he seemed taller, broader and more handsome than he was. His aura of power - and his money - made women fling themselves at his feet.
    He had a beautiful mane of graying black hair, a slightly beaked nose and sharp, intelligent dark eyes. Always impeccably dressed in tailored clothes and with extremely polished manners, he had worked his way up to the top of Greek society and business world through hard work and also lies and deceit.
    Ethan was grateful his grandfather adored him, because Niarchos Angepopoulos was unstoppable when he wanted something. His only weaknesses in life were his late wife, to whom he had been faithful for the thirty-three years of their happy marriage, and his only grandson.
    “Good afternoon, Grandpa,” Ethan stood up and kissed him on the cheeks, an admiring look in his eyes.
    “Always studying,” Niarchos shook his head as he looked around his grandson’s shaded room and walked to the curtains flinging them wide open. “You need more sunlight in your life, Ethan. It will keep your eyes healthier for longer.”
    Ethan was a very handsome young man. He’d had perfect skin during his teenage years and he was starting to fill out nicely, building muscle. He was already tall. His silky brown hair had turned to a dark blond under the Greek sun and his amazing azure eyes, so uncommon in the Angepopoulos’s family, were bright.
    Nonetheless, Niarchos worried about him.
    Since Ethan had arrived from London, more than two years ago, with a haunted look in his expressive and gullible eyes, he had made no friends and had had no girlfriends, either. He expressed no wish to socialize with his school friends at the beach or at parties. He was extremely shy. The only place he felt comfortable was in the security of his bedchamber or in the gazebo near the private beach, accompanied by his books. Even when Niarchos traveled around the globe, be it on business or on vacation, Ethan refused to leave the house