The Greek's Bride of Convenience

by Helen Bianchin

  The musicians caught her attention, but for the remainder of the evening she was supremely conscious of his presence.

  It was late when the concert wound down, and the exits became jammed with a river of people attempting to vacate the venue. It was even worse trying to leave the car park.

  Consequently it was after midnight before the Ferrari was able to move freely in traffic, and Lexi leaned well back in her seat and closed her eyes as she mentally reviewed the concert and its artists.

  ‘Do you want to go somewhere for supper?’

  She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘Peckish.’

  ‘We’re not exactly dressed for any of your usual haunts,’ she ventured.

  ‘I know of a place. Trust me.’

  When the car slid to a halt she checked their whereabouts and shot him a cheeky grin. ‘I don’t believe this.’

  ‘Come on. Out.’ He slid from behind the wheel and went round to open her door. ‘A fitting end to the evening, wouldn’t you say?’

  The café was intimately small and spotlessly clean, and the smell of food was tantalising. They sat opposite each other in a booth, and ordered steakburgers, fries and salad. Afterwards they washed it down with surprisingly good coffee, then Georg paid the bill and drove towards Darling Point.

  It had been a wonderful evening, and she told him as much as he drew to a halt outside her apartment block.

  ‘I agree.’

  Something in the tone of his voice arrested her attention, and she turned towards him in seemingly slow motion as his hands caught hold of her shoulders.

  ‘Georg—don’t. Please,’ she whispered as he impelled her forward, and the butterflies in her stomach began an erratic tattoo, making her frighteningly aware of the electric tension between them.

  Lexi felt herself begin to tremble as he lowered his head and touched his lips briefly against her temple.

  Any further protest became lost as his mouth slid down to cover hers in a kiss that was tantalising, tender, yet with a hint of controlled passion, and to her utter chagrin it left her feeling vaguely bereft and wanting more.

  ‘I really must go,’ she said a trifle shakily.

  ‘Don’t forget we’re attending the charity ball tomorrow night,’ Georg reminded her as she made to step out from the car. ‘We’re meeting Samantha and Alex there at eight. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’

  She murmured agreement, then activated her security card to pass through the main doors, and when she turned back all she could see was the twin red tail-lights as the Ferrari swept down the street.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LEXI DRESSED WITH care, and her mirrored reflection gave visual satisfaction that her choice of gown was a success.

  In midnight-blue silk, it accentuated her slim curves by hugging them shamelessly from breast to knee before flaring out in a generous fold that fell to ankle-length. Matching shoes and evening-bag completed the outfit, and for jewellery she’d opted to wear a glorious sapphire pendant encircled in diamonds and matching ear-studs.

  Her hair was worn swept back from her face and caught together at one side so that a thick mass of curls cascaded down on to her left breast. Make-up had been skilfully applied to highlight her eyes, and a deep dusky rose coloured the generous curve of her mouth.

  Perfume—Jean-Louis Scherrer—completed the required image, and at the sound of the doorbell she moved through the lounge to answer its summons.

  ‘Beautiful,’ Georg accorded softly, after conducting a slow appreciative appraisal that brought a defiant sparkle to her eyes.

  ‘Wearing clothes is an acquired flair,’ Lexi qualified with a faint defensive lift of her chin as she met his warm gaze.

  ‘You do it extremely well.’

  Perhaps she’d overdone it, she decided wryly. Except that tonight of all nights, given such an auspicious occasion, she felt the need to excel. The charity ball would be patronised by the cream of Sydney’s society, and Lexi Harrison’s affair with Georg Nicolaos was hot gossip. She would be examined in detail from the tip of her shoes to the top of her head, discussed and dissected, her behaviour observed and criticised. From the moment she stepped out of Georg’s car she would need to shine.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’ she queried. ‘Or shall we leave?’

  ‘Oh, leave, I think,’ Georg intimated with husky humour. ‘Otherwise I shall probably be tempted to dissuade you from moving one step out of this apartment.’

  The only way she could cope with him in this frame of mood was outright flippancy. ‘And waste all the time and effort I’ve expended in adopting this glamorous image? Not on your life.’

  ‘Shame,’ he drawled. ‘Now I shall have to exercise the utmost control during the entire evening.’

  She proffered a wide sweet smile. ‘I have no doubt you’ll manage.’

  He stood to one side, allowing her to precede him into the lobby.

  The venue was a plush hotel in the inner city, and, although she had attended many such functions in the past, tonight it was impossible to dispel a feeling of nervousness.

  Georg Nicolaos had a lot to answer for, she decided darkly as they moved into the foyer, where their tickets were scrutinised and marked off an impressive list before they were ushered into the elaborately decorated function-room.

  Drinks and canapés were served by a bevy of hovering waiters, and Lexi drifted at Georg’s side as they slowly mixed and mingled with a variety of acquaintances.

  ‘Lexi; Georg.’ Alex, with Samantha at his side looking incredibly lovely in black velvet. Lexi greeted them both warmly, accepted Samantha’s compliment and promptly returned it. ‘Shall we take our seats at the table?’ Alex enquired. ‘It looks as if most of the guests are intent on becoming seated.’

  The food was superb, and Lexi forked a few mouthfuls from each course, declined wine in favour of mineral water, and opted for fresh fruit salad instead of the cheeseboard. There were the usual salutary speeches lauding the charity chairperson, the secretary, and a brief résumé of the charity’s successful endeavours and anticipatory projections. Then it was clearly party-time as a band took up its position and began to play.

  ‘Would you excuse me while I freshen up?’ said Lexi.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Samantha indicated, rising to her feet, and together they began threading their way across the room.

  The powder-room was crowded, and it took considerable time before Samantha was able to occupy a spare cubicle. Lexi gave her place to an expectant mother who obviously needed to use the facilities more urgently than she did.

  ‘Don’t wait,’ Lexi bade Samantha with a helpless smile. ‘I’ll rejoin you as soon as I can.’

  It was at least five minutes before she emerged, and she paused as someone called her name, then stood politely as a woman she barely knew insisted on offering her congratulations.

  An acquaintance of Jonathan’s restricted her passage, enquiring after his health, and she turned to retrace her steps to the table.

  Afterwards she couldn’t recall quite what made her conduct a sweeping appraisal of the function-room and its guests. She certainly wasn’t conscious of doing it deliberately. There had to be at least thirty people present whom she knew reasonably well, and more than fifty who were social acquaintances.

  Even as her eyes skimmed the crowd, it never occurred to her that she might number her ex-husband among the invited guests.

  Lexi felt the blood drain from her face at the sight of Paul standing on the far side of the room. Even from this distance she could see the wicked, faintly malevolent gleam in his eyes, the cynical twist of his mouth.

  She saw him murmur to his companion, then he began threading his way through the gathered groups of guests.

  ‘Well, hello,’ Paul greeted softly, and she cringed beneath his deliberate raking appraisal. ‘It’s been ages, my sweet. I see you’re inhabiting the social scene again,’ he intoned hatefully. ‘The gossip aroun
d town is that you and Georg Nicolaos are an item. Are you?’

  Careful, she cautioned silently. The last thing she wanted was a scene. Perhaps if she was polite he’d be satisfied and leave her alone.

  Lexi took her time in answering, letting her lashes sweep up as she met his stare with unblinking solemnity. ‘Yes.’

  His lips curved to form a vicious sickle. ‘Why, Lexi, darling, whatever are you thinking of? Georg eats little girls for breakfast.’

  ‘I’m no longer a little girl, Paul,’ she said steadily. ‘You personally saw to it that I grew up.’

  ‘Do you imagine for one minute it will be any different with Georg Nicolaos? He’s a hard corporate executive, too attuned to business interests to be much concerned with you, except when it suits him, of course.’

  ‘As you were, Paul?’

  ‘My, my,’ he accorded with slow deliberation. ‘Tell me, sweetie,’ he began, pausing as he set his weapons ready for the figurative kill, ‘are you still an inhibited, frigid little bitch in bed? Or hasn’t Georg been able to persuade you into his yet?’ He reached out a hand to push back a tendril of hair behind her ear, and laughed softly as she reared back from his touch as if from flame.

  ‘You would be advised not to cause trouble, Ellis,’ a too-familiar voice intimated with icy disdain, and Lexi felt faint.

  ‘I have an invitation to this soirée,’ Paul said mockingly, his eyes moving slowly from Georg to Lexi.

  ‘Obviously,’ Georg conceded with studied ruthlessness. ‘Otherwise you would not have been admitted.’ He paused, before adding with killing softness, ‘However, if I hear of your bothering Lexi again I can promise that you will live to regret it.’

  Lexi shivered at the degree of ice evident in Georg’s tone, and she glimpsed the malevolent gleam in Paul’s eye as he ventured cynically, ‘Physical violence, my dear chap?’

  ‘Nothing so uncivilised.’

  Paul’s gaze swept down to the ring on Lexi’s finger, then he lifted his head to slant her a mocking glance. ‘Congratulations, darling. Daddy will be pleased.’

  It was evident that Paul had deliberately sought this very scene, and Lexi was supremely conscious of the curious looks cast in their direction, the avid, all-too-seeing eyes alight with speculative conjecture. Inside she was shattering into a thousand pieces, but she was darned if she’d give Paul the pleasure of glimpsing any visible signs of her distress.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed quietly, ‘he is.’

  ‘Better luck this time, sweetie.’

  ‘We’ll excuse you,’ Georg said silkily. ‘There can be no doubt this conversation has reached its conclusion.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of continuing it,’ Paul declared with ill-concealed mockery, then he turned and strolled with apparent nonchalance to rejoin his friends.

  Pride was a damnable thing, and she lifted her head, tilting her chin in an unconscious gesture of defence. Georg’s eyes seemed to tear down the barriers she had erected, and after a few interminably long minutes she lowered her gaze to a point somewhere above his left shoulder.

  Without a word he reached out and caught hold of her hand, and she shifted her attention, meeting his unfathomable expression with a clear, direct gaze, hiding the pain buried deep inside. She even managed a slight smile, although she was unaware that it appeared to be tinged with sadness. ‘The only regret I have where Paul is concerned is that I was foolish enough to be taken in by him in the first place.’

  ‘You were young and susceptible, were you not?’

  Lexi gave an imperceptible shrug. ‘Nothing alters the fact that I made a terrible misjudgement of character, which was only compounded by my unwillingness to heed my father or David.’

  ‘You paid for your mistake.’

  It wasn’t a query, merely a statement of fact, and her lashes swept down to shutter the sudden flaring of pain.

  ‘Not all men are callous, insensitive brutes,’ Georg offered quietly.

  ‘Possibly not.’ She paused, her eyes wide and startlingly direct. ‘But I’ve never been sufficiently inclined to set out on a wild bedroom romp in an attempt to disprove Paul’s accusations of my frigidity!’

  ‘Ludicrous,’ Georg drawled, and her eyes flashed with sudden animosity. ‘That you could possibly be frigid,’ he elaborated.

  ‘And you’re an expert on the sexual exploits of men and women?’

  His faint smile held amused cynicism. ‘I can guarantee that my experience is infinitely more vast than yours.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of doubting it!’

  He lifted her hand to his lips and idly brushed her fingertips in a gesture that was blatantly evocative, and she felt so impossibly angry it was all she could do not to snatch her hand from his grasp.

  ‘Stop opposing me,’ he berated quietly.

  ‘How can I not oppose you? At first it appeared I was agreeing to a simple collusion,’ she said wretchedly. ‘Now I’m wearing an engagement ring, and you’ve told Jonathan and the gossip columnists that we’re getting married within weeks!’

  ‘Would it be so disastrous if we did?’

  Her eyes widened with incredulous disbelief. ‘You can’t be serious?’

  ‘Very serious.’

  ‘But—why?’

  ‘Why not?’ Georg countered smoothly. ‘I look at Alex and Samantha and I know that I want what they have. A caring relationship; children.’

  ‘That’s no basis for marriage,’ she responded, utterly shocked by his reasoning.

  ‘Isn’t it better to have a marriage based on friendship and mutual trust than chase an illusion?’ His eyes were dark and fathomless. ‘I have amassed considerable assets. Do you think for one moment that women solicit my attention for reasons other than with an eye to a generous expense account, travel, and the gift of limitless jewellery?’ His query was wholly cynical, and she looked at him carefully.

  ‘You would be content with such a relationship?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Her expression registered an entire gamut of emotions, and she struggled to contain them. Could she marry him? Dared she? Once she had chased a fairy-tale and fallen flat on her face. Maybe this time she should use her head instead of her heart.

  He smiled, and everything else seemed to fade as he leant forward and brushed his lips against her forehead. ‘I’ll get you a drink,’ he said solemnly. ‘And then we’ll mingle.’

  Lexi accepted a glass of champagne, then walked at his side as they mixed with the guests, pausing to converse with one group and another before eventually rejoining Samantha and Alex.

  ‘Shall we leave them to it?’ Samantha queried with a cheeky grin as the two brothers became engaged in deep conversation, and Lexi agreed, watching as Samantha briefly touched Alex’s shoulder.

  Georg caught the unobtrusive gesture, and his eyes pierced Lexi’s for a second before he returned his attention to the man at his side.

  Together Samantha and Lexi threaded their way towards a table where two waitresses were dispensing coffee.

  ‘Oh, this is heaven,’ Samantha breathed as she sipped the aromatic brew. ‘It has been a successful night. All the tickets were sold out last week.’

  ‘Another notable charity,’ Lexi accorded. ‘Georg seems to be an active patron of several.’

  ‘Georg is a very special man,’ Samantha offered with deep sincerity.

  ‘He complimented you in much the same manner.’

  A dimpled smile turned Samantha’s features into something quite beautiful. ‘We are—simpatico. There was a time when Alex was impossibly jealous. Completely without foundation, I might add.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Samantha laughed. ‘You sound so sure.’

  ‘One has only to look at you and Alex together to know no one else in the world exists for either of you.’

  ‘Yet it wasn’t always like that.’

  Lexi didn’t know what to say, and sagely maintained her silence.

  ‘I found myself married to Alex without any ch
oice,’ Samantha revealed quietly. ‘I was very young, and at first I rebelled. Rather badly, I’m afraid. The first few months were—’ she paused, effecting a faint grimace in memory ‘—difficult.’

  ‘You weren’t in love with him?’

  ‘Not at first, no.’

  ‘I find that very hard to believe.’

  ‘Now I cannot imagine my life without him.’

  Lexi looked at her carefully. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

  ‘That Georg is the one man, aside from Alex, whom I would trust with my life,’ Samantha said simply.

  ‘You think I’m not sure of Georg?’

  ‘I think,’ Samantha corrected, ‘you’re unsure of yourself.’

  ‘Oh, my,’ Lexi declared with a defenceless little shrug. ‘Next you’ll say that love can come after the marriage, and I should leap in where any self-respecting angel would fear to tread!’ Her eyes kindled with rueful cynicism, and Samantha laughed.

  ‘Are we permitted to share the joke?’ a deep voice drawled from behind, and Lexi turned to see Alex and Georg had rejoined them.

  ‘Most definitely not.’

  ‘Ah—woman-talk, I presume,’ Alex declared, shooting his wife a dark probing glance that held latent warmth.

  ‘We were talking about men,’ Samantha reported gravely.

  Her husband seemed interested, rivetingly so. ‘Indeed?’

  Georg began to laugh softly, and caught hold of Lexi’s hand. ‘I think we’ll leave you two alone.’ He tugged gently, and drew her towards the dance-floor.

  ‘I’m not sure that I want to dance,’ Lexi protested, yet somehow she was in his arms, and the music was slow, the lights low, and it was all too easy to forget everything except the moment.

  His hold was less than conventional, and after a few minutes she gave in to temptation and let her head rest against the curve of his shoulder. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine this was real, and somewhere deep inside was born the longing for it to be more than just a pretence.

  There were as many reasons why she should marry him as there were reasons for her to refuse. She thought of Samantha and Alex, and their daughter Leanne; of a home, with Georg in the role of husband, lover, father.