The Greek's Bride of Convenience

by Helen Bianchin

  The doorbell chimed just as she emerged into the lounge, and she moved quickly towards the lobby to answer its summons.

  Georg stood framed in the aperture, attired in an immaculate dark suit and white linen shirt, and exuding a combination of dynamic masculinity and raw virility. ‘Punctuality is one of your virtues,’ he greeted her with a slow disturbing smile, and Lexi effected a faint shrug.

  ‘Not always. Shall we leave?’

  George headed the Ferrari towards Double Bay and slid to a halt adjacent to the shopping centre.

  ‘Why are you stopping here?’

  ‘Quite simply because this is where we’re dining.’

  ‘The restaurant? I thought we were dining with your mother,’ Lexi said, faintly perplexed at the change in plan.

  ‘Mama suggested that we celebrate according to Greek tradition,’ Georg informed her smoothly. ‘So tonight the restaurant is closed to all but family and close friends.’

  ‘A party?’

  ‘Specifically to celebrate our forthcoming marriage.’

  She felt the nerves in her stomach clench in painful rejection. ‘This entire débâcle gets worse with every passing day,’ she opined wretchedly.

  His appraisal was swiftly analytical as he raked her slim form. ‘Relax.’

  ‘How can I relax?’ she retorted. ‘Your family and friends will examine and dissect my every word as they attempt to determine whether I’m worthy of acceptance into the Nicolaos clan.’

  ‘There can be no doubt that they will approve my choice,’ he mocked, and she gave a short laugh.

  ‘No one would dare oppose you.’

  ‘You do,’ he drawled.

  ‘Only because you have the ability to make me impossibly angry!’

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Georg declared imperturbably.

  ‘And it’s smile-time,’ she said with a trace of bitterness.’

  ‘You do it so well.’

  ‘Oh, stop being so damned cynical!’ She was almost at the end of her tether, and being faced with the prospect of a celebratory party where they would be the focus of attention was almost more than she could bear.

  Yet somehow she managed to portray a combination of gracious sincerity and suitable bewitchment with the youngest Nicolaos son.

  There was a variety of food to tempt the most critical palate, and sufficient of it to feed an army. Beneath Georg’s persuasive touch, Lexi sampled several delicacies and followed it with a light white wine.

  At times she thought she was a little over the top, and Georg merely compounded the situation by playing the part of adoring lover to the hilt.

  Her ring was admired and commented upon, and inevitably the question arose as to a possible wedding date.

  ‘The end of January,’ Georg revealed, and laughed softly at Lexi’s obvious surprise. ‘Do you blame me? I have no intention of allowing her to slip through my fingers.’

  ‘And the honeymoon?’

  ‘Greece. Where else?’

  Where else, indeed?

  ‘Are you mad?’ Lexi demanded in a subdued voice the instant they had a moment alone. To any onlookers they must appear a loving couple, drifting close together on the dance-floor. Bouzoukis played softly in the background a haunting melody that seemed filled with pathos, as were many of the Greek songs.

  ‘All of these people are very dear friends,’ Georg murmured close to her ear.

  ‘There can be no mistake that they imagine this to be an engagement party.’ She was so angry that her whole body shook with it. ‘They’ve brought gifts, which will have to be returned. And why did you have to give out a wedding date?’

  ‘In a few minutes the music will change. The women will sit at the tables and watch as the men take to the floor and dance.’

  Lexi looked at him with helpless frustration. ‘Including you?’

  ‘Especially me,’ he informed cynically, ‘in an attempt to convince everyone I am a strong virile man who will promise his prospective wife many fine sons to carry the Nicolaos name.’

  ‘The dance is a feat of strength?’

  ‘Symbolic endurance,’ George drawled, and his dark eyes gleamed with amusement as twin flags of colour stained her cheeks. ‘Come, you will sit with my mother, Anna and Samantha.’

  ‘I’ll probably walk straight out the door.’

  ‘Be sure that I will follow and drag you back.’

  The threat of his intent was without doubt, and, unbidden, her eyes moved to rest on the sensual curve of his mouth, widening slightly and assuming momentary vulnerability in memory of the havoc he’d wrought the previous evening.

  His gaze narrowed, then he lowered his head down to hers.

  No one could possibly have heard what they were saying, and there wasn’t one guest present who doubted the reason behind the brief seemingly passionate kiss the prospective bridegroom bestowed on his bride-to-be in the middle of the dance-floor before leading her to sit in the bosom of his family as the music assumed a traditional slow lilting beat.

  Lexi sat perfectly still, a smile fixed permanently in place, as each of the men removed their jackets and rolled back their shirt-sleeves before taking up their positions on the dance-floor.

  Together, with arms outstretched and in perfect unison, they began to move in time to the music, their steps quickening as the beat slowly increased, until only the very fit were able to sustain the rapid tempo.

  Alex and Anna’s husband Nick remained with Georg, as well as a few of the younger men, and Lexi found herself unconsciously holding her breath as the impossible beat continued.

  There was a crash of broken crockery as a plate hit the wooden floor, quickly followed by another, until it was difficult to distinguish the sound of each plate.

  ‘Lexi. Here is one for you.’

  Turning, she saw the proffered plate extended in Samantha’s hand.

  ‘Throw it as a gesture of appreciation.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘It will be noticed if you don’t,’ Samantha cautioned softly. ‘By everyone.’

  ‘Greek tradition?’

  A mischievous smile lit Samantha’s beautiful features. ‘Feminine enthusiasm.’

  Taking the plate, Lexi looked at Georg and calmly threw it on to the floor. For her it was a gesture of suppressed anger, and, without thinking, she picked up another for good measure and sent it following in the path of the first.

  It was only when she had another plate pressed into her hand that she realised the significance of the numbers thrown.

  Georg, damn him, merely laughed, his dark eyes alive with devilish humour, and Lexi wanted to curl up and die as Mrs Nicolaos took up a plate and extended it.

  To refuse would have been incredibly rude, and, forcing a smile, she took it and sent it crashing to the floor.

  ‘Well done,’ Samantha accorded softly. ‘You’ve now been officially accepted into the family.’

  The music reached a crescendo, then abruptly stopped, and Lexi soon saw why as several waiters with brooms appeared and began clearing up the debris, while the men had glasses of wine pressed into their hands to quench their thirst.

  It wasn’t long before the bouzoukis were taken up again, and this time the men fetched their womenfolk on to the dance-floor.

  Georg’s skin felt warm beneath her fingers, his arms hard with corded muscle, and there was nothing Lexi could do to prevent being held close in against his body. She could feel the powerful beat of his heart, and sense the musky aroma of his cologne.

  ‘Soon Alex and Samantha will take Mama home, then gradually everyone will leave,’ Georg informed her as he led her among the dancing couples.

  ‘Your mother is amazing,’ she told him.

  ‘Be sure that she has rested all day, and tomorrow will not be permitted to rise from her bed.’

  ‘You’re extremely protective of her.’

  ‘Mama is a very special woman,’ he accorded quietly. ‘Her husband, his dreams; the children, and now the grandchi
ldren. Together they have been her reason for living.’ She sensed his faint smile. ‘You have her approval.’

  ‘Should I feel flattered?’

  ‘Without question.’

  ‘I wonder why,’ Lexi mused. ‘Could it be because I stand up for myself, and don’t pretend you’re God and any number of sacred saints all rolled into one?’

  He slanted her a wry look that was tempered with humour. ‘Perhaps she sees, as I do, a girl whose inner beauty surpasses her physical attributes.’

  The breath caught in her throat. ‘I don’t think either of you knows me well enough to reach an adequate conclusion.’

  ‘No?’

  She felt defeated, and stiffened slightly as his lips brushed her temple. ‘Please don’t.’

  ‘What a contrary combination of words,’ Georg mocked. ‘The first encourages, while the second is a refusal.’

  ‘Perhaps I unconsciously chose them because I am a contrary creature!’

  Gently he withdrew his arms, and her eyes reflected the sudden loss of security before she successfully masked their expression. ‘Alex is about to leave with Mama,’ he informed. ‘Come, we will bid them goodnight, then stand together and thank our guests as they leave.’

  It was an hour before they were able to get away, and in the car Lexi simply leaned well back and let her head sink against the head-rest. As Georg fired the engine, she closed her eyes, and didn’t open them until he brought the car to a standstill outside the entrance to her apartment block.

  ‘There’s no need for you to come in.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I will see you safely indoors.’

  It was far too late to protest, and she was overcome with helpless frustration as she passed through the entrance lobby en route to the lifts.

  ‘Don’t you ever listen?’ she burst out scant minutes later as he withdrew her set of keys, selected one and inserted it into the lock of her apartment.

  ‘Always.’

  ‘Then why are you here?’

  He took time to close the door carefully before turning back to face her. ‘Would you believe—because I want to be?’

  Lexi closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again. ‘Doesn’t it matter that I don’t want you here?’

  He reached forward and brushed his fingers lightly along the edge of her jaw, then slipped to cup her chin. ‘Precisely what are you afraid of?’ Georg queried with cynical mockery, and her eyes assumed the hue of brilliant gold.

  ‘Will you please leave? I’m tired and I want to go to bed.’

  ‘Are you working tomorrow?’

  ‘No. I intend sleeping in, then taking a picnic lunch to the beach, where I can enjoy a few hours of uninterrupted solitude.’

  ‘In preparation for the party we’re to attend tomorrow evening,’ he drawled, and, leaning forward, he kissed her on the mouth, a hard, passionate possession that left her wide-eyed and faintly hurt. ‘Sweet dreams, Lexi.’

  Then he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

  * * *

  Lexi chose a beach more than an hour’s drive north of the city, and, with Christmas only a matter of days away, there were very few people electing to spend valuable shopping time lazing on a sandy foreshore.

  For a number of hours she simply stretched out beneath the shade of a beach umbrella and read a thick paperback, then she applied a liberal dose of sunscreen and cautiously exposed herself to the sun’s rays for a short space of time.

  At four she packed everything into the boot of the Mercedes and drove back to Darling Point, where she showered and shampooed her hair in preparation for the evening ahead.

  The party was a perfectly splendid affair, Lexi mused as she stood with apparent ease at Georg’s side in a sumptuously appointed lounge of a harbourside mansion noted for being one of the city’s finest. The guests numbered among the social élite, and each of the women appeared to have spent several hours, if not the entire day, on their appearance, so exquisitely perfect were their hairstyles and make-up. Collectively their designer clothes would have cost a small fortune, and a king’s ransom was represented in jewellery.

  She took a small sip of an innocuously mild spritzer, then gave a faint start of surprise as she saw Anaïs Pembleton moving determinedly towards them.

  ‘Lexi, darling, how are you?’ Without pausing for breath, the society matron greeted Georg. ‘I’m so pleased you’ve managed to persuade this beautiful, beautiful girl back on to the social scene.’

  ‘Anaïs,’ Georg acknowledged, his expression politely bland.

  ‘Congratulations are in order, I hear. May one ask when the wedding is to take place?’

  ‘Oh, there’s no hurry,’ Lexi hastened to reply swiftly, only to be caught by Georg’s look of musing indulgence.

  ‘I am not a patient man,’ he offered with a warm smile. ‘If I had my way it would be tomorrow.’

  Lexi seethed in silence, angry beyond belief at Georg’s deliberate ploy. The sound of the society matron’s laughter was the living end, and she gave into temptation and uttered sweetly, ‘You know what they say about “once bitten, twice shy”.’

  ‘Oh, yes, darling. But this time, surely it’s different?’ The emphasis was there, and it succeeded in rousing her temper almost to boiling point. ‘I mean, Georg is impossibly rich, whereas Paul…’

  There was a faint pause, and Lexi finished with seeming sweetness, ‘Was a Lothario and a leech?’ Her eyes contained a dangerous sparkle. ‘Why not say it to my face, Anaïs? It’s no secret that it’s been said behind my back.’

  There was a faint gasp, then the older woman drew herself up to her full height as she mentally bore down on the slim young girl facing up to her with far more courage than she’d ever imagined possible. ‘My dear Lexi,’ she purred softly, ‘you’re surely not accusing me of anything?’

  Lexi’s smile was the epitome of innocence. ‘Now why should you imagine that?’

  ‘I am no rumour-monger,’ Anaïs Pembleton assured with chilling hauteur.

  ‘Merely a purveyor of purported fact.’ Lexi attempted to defuse the strength of her stinging words with a solemn and faintly sad smile. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I really must powder my nose.’ There was no need for any part of her exquisitely made-up features to be retouched, but if she didn’t escape now she’d end up saying something totally regrettable.

  The powder-room was empty, and Lexi withdrew several tissues, dampened them, then pressed the refreshingly cool pads against both temples before standing back to examine her features.

  Her eyes looked incredibly large and luminous, and there were twin flags of colour high on each cheekbone. Her mouth looked far too full. Luscious, she decided, twisting the curved edges into an expression of self-derision.

  She possessed the kind of looks most girls would have killed for, and a figure that was the envy of any self-respecting female. Nature, she accorded, had certainly been extremely gracious in her endowment. Add a successful career, bankability, considerable assets, and it all added up to something that was almost too good to be true.

  On an impulse she lifted her hands and tore out the restraining pins from her hair, letting its length cascade down her back in a glorious thick mass of curls.

  Gone was the slender-necked society belle with her air of fragility, for now Lexi resembled a contender in the promiscuity stakes.

  A quirk of amusement lifted the edge of her lips. It was amazing what a different hairstyle and a change in expression could do! It remained to be seen whether Georg would appreciate the difference.

  There was a gleam of defiance in her eyes as she entered the lounge, and she saw him at once, standing tall in a group of elegantly suited men.

  It was marvellous how men gravitated towards each other on the pretext of discussing business. Jonathan was a prime example, as was David.

  Perhaps it was time to give Georg a taste of his own medicine. A social occasion was meant to be exactly that—social, she determined, as she threaded her way through
the guests to where he stood. And she could play charades equally as well as he could!

  Deep in conversation, he turned slightly, then his gaze narrowed fractionally as he caught sight of her.

  ‘Darling,’ Lexi greeted, a deceptively soft smile parting her mouth as she placed fingers on the sleeve of his jacket. ‘I’m dying of thirst.’ Her eyes were wide and deep as she gazed up at him. ‘Would you mind getting me another drink?’

  ‘Of course,’ Georg acceded as he excused himself from the group. ‘Wine, or something stronger?’

  ‘Stronger, definitely.’

  ‘That bad?’ he quizzed lightly. ‘You sound as if you’re planning an escape.’

  Her lashes swept high and wide, and she attempted a singularly sweet smile. ‘Only cowards cut and run, and I won’t allow Anaïs Pembleton the pleasure.’

  His gleaming gaze did strange things to her equilibrium. ‘Then why not forgo the drink, and we’ll drift out on to the terrace and dance?’

  Lexi swallowed the sudden lump that had risen in her throat. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Afraid, darling?’

  Her chin lifted fractionally. ‘Of you, Georg?’ She tilted her head slightly in the pretence of examining his features. ‘You’re so shockingly powerful, one derives the impression you have only to blink and the markets tremble. Yet I don’t fear you.’

  ‘Perhaps you should.’

  Her eyes didn’t waver. ‘If you don’t want to fetch me a drink I’ll get one myself.’

  Without a word he moved towards the bar, and returned with a vodka and orange juice.

  ‘Did Jonathan never spank you as a child?’ he queried mildly as she took the glass from his hand.

  ‘He never had to,’ Lexi retorted swiftly.

  His mouth curved into a musing smile. ‘The perfect juvenile, hmm? Picture-book pretty, with a complexion like porcelain, and impossibly long auburn hair bound in plaits.’

  ‘Talk to David. He’ll tell you I walked in his shadow, always wanting to play.’

  ‘Did he allow you to?’

  ‘Most of the time,’ she answered, quietly reflective, yet her voice held a tinge of wryness. ‘All his friends thought I was cute, and I survived puberty without braces or acne.’