‘Not my child.’ His voice was silky and soft but she heard the edge of anger. ‘I would never be so careless.’
No, she realised, Christo was careful and calculating. Everything planned. Even down to choosing a suitable bride without a trace of sentiment or true feeling.
‘And not a baby but a little three-year-old girl. The child is my stepsister’s. She died recently.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Emma felt herself soften. She knew about loss, knew the struggle to keep going when everything seemed bleak.
Was it possible grief had made Christo act out of character? Could that explain...?
No. One look into those severely set features disabused her of that notion. She’d been right the first time. Christo didn’t act in passion. He was a schemer who plotted every move.
‘I barely knew her. Only met her once, years ago.’
‘Yet you’re now responsible for her child?’ It made no sense.
He shrugged. ‘There’s no one else.’
It was on the tip of Emma’s tongue to say that must be the case because no sane person would entrust an innocent child to such a man. But she bit the words back. She processed his words—no one else. But that was right: he was an only child and his parents were dead.
‘The father?’
‘If she knew who he was, she never said.’ He paused. ‘No one is going to come along and claim the girl.’
The girl.
He didn’t even call the poor kid by her name.
Sympathy flashed through Emma. She understood what it meant to lose your family young. One day her parents had been there, seeing her off to school. The next, they’d been gone.
But she had her own battle to fight. She couldn’t be swayed by emotion. That had been her downfall before.
‘You both have my sympathy. But that’s no reason to prolong this marriage.’
‘Can you think of a better reason than to nurture a motherless child?’
How dared he talk of nurturing when his plan was to palm the child off on her?
‘Of course I can. What about—?’
‘Yes?’ He leaned closer.
‘Love’, she’d been about to say. Marrying for true love.
But it hadn’t been true and it hadn’t been love, at least on his side. It had been a marriage of convenience.
As for her own feelings, Emma was ashamed of them. Especially since, despite everything he’d done, she wasn’t as immune to this man as she wanted to be. Just as well there was no chance of him turning around and trying to persuade her he loved her. Even now she dreaded to think how effective he might be, given how he’d conned her the first time.
‘I’m not getting into an academic discussion about marriage. I’m sorry for your niece...’ in more ways than one ‘...but she’s your responsibility. Take care of her yourself.’
Again, Emma felt that pang of sympathy for the little girl with no one but Christo to care for her. But he had money with which to bring in the best nannies. Once they were divorced, he’d find another wife. He’d proved how easy that was.
‘Either agree to a divorce or leave. I have business to attend to.’
‘Business?’ His eyebrows shot up and for the first time she felt she’d truly surprised him.
‘I have arrangements to make. A future to plan. A future without you.’
Stormy eyes surveyed her and she felt the force of his disapproval. No, more than disapproval. Sheer fury, if she read the thickening atmosphere correctly.
Once she would have hurried to placate, or at least redirect, that anger. Years living with Papou had made her adept at averting storms, finding ways of making him change his mind over time.
Today Emma stood her ground and rode the wave of displeasure crashing around her. If anything it buoyed her higher, knowing Christo could fume to no avail.
‘These arrangements, do they require capital?’ he asked finally.
‘That’s none of your concern.’ He was stringing this out, hoping to undermine her confidence. Clearly he’d swallowed Papou’s line about her needing to be looked after and guided.
As if part of her degree hadn’t been in business management! Clearly Christo had missed that part of their conversation, probably distracted by planning how to tie her to his niece’s nursery.
‘On the contrary, it is my concern, if you’re hoping to use your grandfather’s property as capital.’
Something dropped hard through Emma’s middle, like a stone plunging into a pool of arctic water. Chill splinters pricked her body.
She didn’t like the triumph in Christo’s eyes. As if he knew something she didn’t.
But that was impossible. She already knew control of the valuable real estate in Athens had been handed to Christo on her behalf. Emma intended to change that, along with her married status.
‘It’s not my grandfather’s property now. It’s mine.’ Her gaze swept the gracious room. This place, so full of precious memories, was her solace now, her home.
And more. It was her future. Her one asset, given her savings after years studying and looking after Papou were negligible. She’d get a loan using the property as collateral and invest it in the business she’d establish.
‘If only that were true.’ A deep voice cut through her thoughts.
She swung her head round to face him.
Either Christo had the best poker face in the world or he really did have bad news for her. Emma had a horrible feeling he was about to pull the rug out from under her feet...again.
She hiked her chin up, ignoring her stomach’s uneasy roiling. ‘If you have something to say, say it. I’ve had enough games.’
That sharp gaze held hers an instant longer then he shrugged. ‘It seems your grandfather didn’t tell you everything.’
That did it. Emma’s stomach was now in freefall. She shifted her feet wider, bracing herself for the axe she sensed was about to drop, curling her hands into each other behind her back where Christo couldn’t see.
‘Go on.’
‘He believed you needed a guiding hand. Which is why he left me in charge of the Athens property.’
‘And?’ Was he dragging this out to torment her?
‘And your other inheritance, the estate here, is yours with the proviso that for the next five years any decision to sell or develop it, or take a loan against it, is subject to my approval. I have the right to veto any change of use if I don’t believe it’s in your long-term best interests.’
He smiled, a baring of white teeth that looked carnivorous rather than reassuring. ‘Look on me as your business partner.’
Emma had been prepared for something but not this.
The blow struck at her knees, making them shake and threaten to collapse. Frantically she redistributed her weight, standing taller and hauling her shoulders back to glare at the man surveying her with that smug hint of a smile on his too-handsome face.
‘I’ll fight it. I’ll challenge it in court.’
‘Of course you will.’ If she didn’t know better, she’d almost have believed that soothing tone. ‘But do you know how long that will take, or how much it will cost? How it will eat into your inheritance?’ He paused, letting her digest that. ‘You could lose everything.’
Main force alone kept Emma where she was. If she thought she had a hope of doing it, she’d have slammed a fist straight into Christo’s smirking mouth.
She was still reeling, her brain whirring fruitlessly because, outrageous as it sounded, it was just the sort of thing her old-fashioned Papou might have done. Especially as he’d known his grandson-in-law-to-be was a commercial wunderkind.
He’d wanted to protect Emma. Instead he’d tied her to a man who wasn’t fit to enter this house.
Belatedly she realised she should have insisted on reading every line of every legal document herself. More fool her!
‘I’ll still fight it.’ Her voice was strained, her vocal cords pulled too tight.
‘That’s your prerogative.’ Christo paused, that seari
ng gaze stripping her bare. ‘But there’s an alternative.’
‘What is it?’ She didn’t dare hope but she had to know.
‘Simple. Meet my terms and you can do as you like with this place.’ His mouth lifted at one corner in a hint of a smile but Emma knew in her very bones this would be anything but simple. ‘I’ll sign your inheritance into your control. All you have to do is fulfil your vows and live as my wife for a year.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘LIVE AS YOUR WIFE? You’ve got to be kidding.’
A flush climbed Emma’s pale cheeks and her greenish brown eyes glittered more brightly than he’d ever seen.
She was a pretty woman but indignation made her arresting.
Christo surveyed her curiously. She vibrated with energy, her breasts heaving and her mouth working. She looked...full of passion. That hadn’t been on his checklist.
The news he’d become responsible for his stepsister’s child had come just before his visit to Australia. He’d picked Emma as a suitable bride because she’d make a good mother and a compliant wife.
But Emma was far more than either of those things, he realised. Instinct had drawn him to her with good reason. Her allure was more subtle and intriguing than surface glamour. His body tightened in anticipation.
He wanted his wife.
Wanted her more by the minute.
And he intended to have her. To salvage his pride after being dumped like an unwanted parcel at his own wedding. Because he had a score to settle. But above all because he’d desired her ever since their first gentle kiss. Her breathless ardour had unlocked something deep inside that had grown and morphed into something very like need.
‘There are two things I never joke about. Business and family.’ The first because it was his lifeblood, the second because he never made light of anything with such power to destroy.
‘I know why you married me, remember? I heard what you told your best man.’ Emma’s lips thinned as she pulled her mouth tight and the colour faded from her cheeks.
Christo didn’t like her pallor. That drawn look made her seem fragile. Vulnerable. Reminding him that she looked that way because of him. He was responsible.
‘I never lied to you.’
‘Not specifically, but you made me believe—’ She bit her tongue and looked away.
Christo could finish her sentence. He’d made her think he was falling for her. That he was a man capable of love.
Something dark slithered through his belly, drawing nausea in its wake. Without a second thought Christo stifled it. He didn’t have the time or inclination for feelings. Nor for pointless self-recrimination.
‘It’s done now. And my offer is on the table.’ An offer she would accept.
Her face swung round and the impact of all that barely contained emotion slammed into him. To his surprise, Christo welcomed it.
Because he’d rather have his wife angry than sad and defeated. It was a new concept. He filed it away for later consideration. Along with the dark shadow edging his conscience.
‘You can’t want me to live with you. I despise you.’
If Emma expected that to derail his plans, she really was an innocent. But then she hadn’t come from his world but from what appeared to be a close, loving family. For a second Christo pondered what that would be like.
‘You might be surprised at what I want and what I can live with. Besides, you owe me.’
‘I owe you?’ There it was again, that shimmer of defiance, that surge of energy that made his wife the most interesting woman he’d met in years. Even the fact that her vibrancy was due to inconvenient feelings didn’t deter him.
‘You gave your word. You made promises to me, Emma.’ He even enjoyed the taste of her name on his tongue.
How would that pale golden skin of hers taste?
‘You really expect me to share a house with you?’
‘And a bed.’
She goggled up at him as if he spoke Swahili instead of English.
‘You’re not serious.’ For the first time since he’d arrived he saw her falter, grabbing the back of a nearby chair.
That hint of vulnerability ignited a trail of gunpowder right through his considerable self-control. Was the idea of sex with him really so appalling? He refused to believe it.
Christo enjoyed women, within strict parameters, and he knew sexual attraction when he saw it. A week ago his demure bride had been counting the hours till they were naked together. Soon she would be again.
‘But I am. You’re mine, Emma, and I intend to have you. At the very least you owe me a wedding night.’
* * *
Emma gripped the carved back of the antique chair and willed the room to stop spinning.
This was crazy. Impossible.
Yet Christo Karides stood there looking as implacable as ever. More so. Before the wedding she’d seen a gentler, more restrained man. Now she saw the real Christo, haughty and demanding. Over the top with his outlandish demands.
‘You’d force me into sex?’
For the first time since he’d stalked along the beach—sexy, brooding and starkly dangerous—she saw him recoil.
‘I’d never force a woman. What sort of man do you think I am?’ He even had the temerity to look outraged!
‘I know exactly what sort of man you are and the question stands.’ Stronger now, Emma let go of the chair back and slid her hands to her hips, adopting a combative attitude to hide her nerves.
‘The answer is no. Sex with an unwilling woman... Never.’ He shook his head, grimacing with distaste, and Emma felt the knot of tension in her chest loosen.
Then his gaze zeroed in on hers and suddenly she was short of breath.
‘But you want me, Emma.’ His certainty was infuriating and devastating, because it tapped into a weakness that shouldn’t exist any more. She despised herself for feeling a tiny tug of response to his words. ‘And I’ll make sure you enjoy every single minute of it.’
His searing look clogged the protest in her throat. Or maybe it was her body’s reaction to the images his words evoked. Heat blasted her. She reminded herself she hated him.
‘If nothing else, I expect to share the wedding night we missed.’ Something shifted in his eyes, something that spoke of calculation and determination. Emma shivered and rubbed her hands up her arms.
‘You’re demanding a year living with you and one night of sex? That’s totally bizarre.’
He spread his arms, palm up. ‘I need a wife to help my niece settle in. I have no skills with children.’ His mouth twisted and for a second Emma thought she read something else in those slate-dark blue eyes. But it was gone before she could identify it. ‘Even I know she needs more than a nanny. She needs a kind, caring parent figure to help her through the worst of the change. Don’t forget, she’s been through the trauma of losing her mother. You know how important it is that she has someone there for her.’
Damn the man. He was right. Emma didn’t want to get involved. Yet she couldn’t prevent a pang of sympathy for the little girl who’d lost her mother. And who apparently only had Christo to rely on! Poor kid.
Emma’s bruised heart squeezed on the girl’s behalf. At least when she was orphaned she’d had her grandparents, aunt and uncle. They’d closed ranks around her, a tight circle of love and support.
But she couldn’t afford to be swayed, no matter how sorry she was for the child.
‘As for us enjoying each other sexually...’ Christo’s deep voice cut through her thoughts. ‘Once we begin, I’m sure we’ll both want far more than one night. I’m confident we’re well-matched physically.’ His voice lingered on the last word, drawing unwanted heat from Emma’s midsection down to the aching hollow between her legs. The sensation was new and unnerving. ‘But I demand at least one night. Those are my terms.’
Despite her intention not to show weakness, Emma shuffled back half a step. ‘It’s preposterous!’
Christo said nothing, merely folded his arms over his
chest and lifted one eyebrow.
Emma cast a look around the dear, familiar room. It would break her heart all over again to leave the family villa. But better that than what Christo proposed.
‘I’ll see you in court.’ Her voice was crisp and decisive, despite the jittery whirl of emotions. ‘Even if I have to walk out of here with only the clothes on my back. I’ll go back to Australia, to my family and friends, and begin legal action to divorce and get back what’s mine.’
Even if justice took years. Even if her inheritance was depleted in the meantime. She’d work and support herself.
She couldn’t contemplate the alternative.
‘That would be unfortunate.’ Christo’s arms fell to his sides, fingers flexing, and Emma wondered if he was restraining the impulse to reach for her. She pushed her shoulders back, meeting him eye to eye, knowing she had no alternative than to face him head on.
‘I understand your uncle’s business is dangerously over-extended. Even with the recent inheritance from your grandfather. If one of the investors were to withdraw it would be disastrous. The repercussions would impact not only him but your aunt and cousins. They could lose everything.’
Words choked in Emma’s throat as her larynx tightened. She stared, wide-eyed, absorbing the threat in those softly spoken words.
Papou had said Christo was clever and daring. That he had a nose for business and a ruthless edge. Would he really be so ruthless as to destroy her family out of pique because she’d turned him down?
Emma wanted to doubt it but she couldn’t take the risk.
‘Are you threatening my family?’
She couldn’t read anything in those arrogant features but determination.
‘Do I need to?’ He shook his head. ‘There’d be no threat to them if you simply abided by your vows. With you as my wife I’d feel obliged to support your uncle if his company was in danger of floundering.’
Emma sucked in a breath. It was true her uncle’s construction company had been through rough times. Now she thought about it, there’d been talk of Christo investing in it. But her head had been so full of other things that she hadn’t paid much attention.
Now she was paying attention, far too late!
Modern Romance May 2019: Books 5-8 Page 20