The Greek's Green Card Bride - A Billionaire Romance

by Holly Rayner

  “Would you like me to contact anyone about setting up meetings, or will they be expecting you?” Anna asked.

  “This isn’t a business trip,” he said. “I’ll be taking care of a personal matter. Actually, please cancel all of my meetings for this afternoon, as well as tomorrow.”

  “Even conference calls?” she asked.

  Dimitris usually took conference calls while he was traveling, so he was sure he surprised her when he said, “Yes, cancel those as well. I need everything cleared.”

  “Understood,” she said. “I’ll let you know once I’ve booked the flight.”

  Dimitris hung up, and his mind turned back to Eva.

  I have to talk to her in person, he thought. We should have talked that morning. I was an idiot to rush out like that.

  He began gathering his things. Now that he’d made the first move with regards to a trip to the States to see Eva, he felt slightly relieved. It felt good to take action, instead of trying to avoid the subject altogether or dwelling on his confusion.

  Maybe when I see her and we talk, I’ll gain some clarity, he thought.

  We can talk about our relationship, the arrangement we’ve entered into, and what boundaries we need to set up. It will be good to get it all out in the open.

  He pushed a few papers into the appropriate folders, and then slid the folders into a desk drawer. He wasn’t sure when he’d return to his office, and he wanted to leave it in good shape.

  For the next few hours, Dimitris went about readying himself for his trip. Anna called to say that the first flight out she could secure wasn’t set to leave until one a.m., so he kept busy by swimming laps in his pool, and then taking care of some work correspondence.

  He canceled dinner with Stavros, his mind already on the trip that lay ahead. By eleven, he was at the Athens International Airport. At twelve thirty he boarded the waiting plane and settled into his first-class seat.

  Forty minutes later, he was up in the air, flying through the clouds, heading for Washington, DC. While the flight attendants got the passengers settled in with drinks, blankets, and pillows, he pulled his laptop out of his carry-on bag and took advantage of the plane’s internet services.

  A quick check of his work email showed that a few messages had come in from his marketing team, regarding the press releases they planned to put out about the upcoming deal with the US government. Dimitris read them over to ensure that he liked the message that his team was going to promote.

  Satisfied that everything looked good, and with his eyes getting heavy, he accepted a water bottle from the flight attendant before closing his laptop and placing it back in his messenger bag.

  It was strange. For years he’d imagined what it would be like to announce that his company was working with a major player such as the US government. He’d worked tirelessly to ensure that the product they sold was worthy of being purchased by major consumers in the industry, like government space programs. He’d dreamed of this for so long, and now it was happening.

  Why doesn’t it feel better? he wondered as he looked out at the inky black sky just beyond the plane’s window. I thought that this was what I wanted. I thought that it would make me happy. Instead, all I can think about is Eva.

  He adjusted his pillow, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

  I’ll see her soon, he reminded himself. Until then, I’d better get some sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Eva

  “This just keeps getting worse, Nikki,” Eva said into the phone. “It was embarrassing enough that he didn’t call me for a week after we spent the night together, but now he’s not even returning my calls. I mean, I made the first move. I called him. The least he can do is freaking call me back!”

  She pushed a strand of hair from her face and picked up her water to take a sip. Another thought struck her, and she put her water glass down abruptly. Some of the drink sloshed out of the glass onto her countertop, which was cluttered with canisters of paint.

  It was two in the afternoon, and Eva had been painting all day, as an attempt to center herself. It wasn’t working. All she had to show for her efforts was a messy apartment, cluttered with canvases, brushes, and paint.

  “You know what the worst part is?” she went on. “I called him at one in the morning. I mean, he has to know that it was important. That’s the hour of the night that’s reserved for emergencies.”

  “Or drunk dials,” Nikki said.

  “I’m not twenty-one,” Eva said. “I don’t drunk dial. Hopefully he knows that much about me.”

  She sighed and picked up the water again. She took a long gulp.

  Nikki spoke. “Maybe he’s just busy.”

  Eva swallowed. “Every time I’ve seen him, he had his phone on him. He owns a business, so he has to be reachable at all times. I swear, he’s purposefully ignoring me.”

  She shook her head, and frustration and anger welled up inside of her. She knew it was just a defense mechanism in place to buffer the hurt that she felt.

  “I bet he’ll call you soon,” Nikki said. “Maybe he just doesn’t know what to say.”

  “Well, he should say something. Anything would be better than silence.”

  There was a knock on the door. Eva balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder and walked over to the little table by her door where she kept her mail.

  She shuffled through a stack of envelopes as she said, “I was thinking about texting him. Maybe something like, ‘Call me, we need to talk,’ or something like that. What do you think?”

  She located her neighbor’s bills amid the stack of letters. She was sure that Marge was on the other side of the door, here to pick up the mail that had been delivered to Eva in error.

  Nikki spoke while Eva twisted the doorknob and pulled it open. “I don’t know. You called him, and that should be enough. Usually when people see a missed call, they…”

  Eva tuned out Nikki’s voice. Her attention became completely riveted on the person who stood on her welcome mat, who wasn’t Marge at all.

  It was Dimitris.

  He smiled.

  His dark eyes met hers and sent a shiver through her body.

  Suddenly, all of the frustration and anger and uncertainty she’d been experiencing melted into a little puddle in her soul. None of it seemed to matter. He was here—in person, on her doorstep.

  She almost dropped the phone. Her hand, holding the letters and bills, fell to the side, and she felt her eyes widen with surprise.

  Nikki was still talking, and Eva waited in silence as her friend’s rambling sentence came to an end. Then she said, “Um, Nik? I’ve gotta go. He’s here.”

  “Who?” Nikki said. “Dimitris? He’s at your apartment? I thought he was in Greece!”

  “Apparently not,” Eva said as she looked over Dimitris’s handsome features.

  He had the shadow of a beard on his chin and a hesitant smile on his lips. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and both looked slightly wrinkled. A messenger bag hung by his side. Eva noticed the gold bracelet on his tanned wrist, and that his hair was a little wilder than usual, as if he’d just survived a long night without much sleep.

  She said a quick goodbye to Nikki, and then stepped aside.

  “Hi,” she said. “Come in.”

  “Hi,” he said. “Your address was on some of the paperwork you filled out for Stavros; I hope you don’t mind that I’m here unannounced.”

  He took a few steps into her apartment, and she felt suddenly aware of how small, stuffy, and messy it really was. She moved quickly over to a window and opened it up in an attempt to get some air circulating, as Dimitris put down his bag and looked around. Then she gathered up two canvases that she’d propped up on chairs. The paintings she’d been working on were not nearly complete, and she felt self-conscious about her work.

  “Since I quit The Red Door Grille, I’ve been doing some painting during the day,” she said, as she walked with one canvas in each hand to the far end
of the apartment. She leaned the unfinished paintings against a wall, out of sight. As she returned, she said, “I wasn’t expecting this. I thought you’d returned home to Greece earlier this week.”

  “I did,” he said with a nod. His eyes moved over the apartment. “So this is your place, hm?” he said. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Six years,” she said. “Ever since I moved to DC. It’s small, I know, but the rent’s not that expensive, and it’s a safe neighborhood.”

  “It has nice natural light,” he said, acknowledging the afternoon sun that pooled on the floor in front of him.

  She eyed him as she waited for him to say more. His eyes were just slightly puffy, and she started to wonder if he’d just flown in from Greece.

  “Did you just get in?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I saw you called. I wanted to call you back, but then I decided it would be better if we could talk in person.”

  She felt stunned by this. Here, she’d been thinking about what a jerk he was for not calling back, when in reality he’d been on a plane all night—so that they could have a conversation.

  She felt sure that he didn’t travel halfway around the globe to talk about her rent or what nice natural lighting she enjoyed.

  He wants to talk about us, she realized. The thought excited her.

  “You must be exhausted,” she said. There was so much that she wanted to tell him about her feelings, but she didn’t want to rush it. Even more importantly, she didn’t really know how to begin. As she watched Dimitris shift nervously from foot to foot, she sensed that he didn’t quite know how to start the conversation, either.

  “I did sleep some on the plane,” he said. “But the meals were terrible. You know how flying can be. The bacon was leathery, the croissant stale, and the chicken as dry as a bone.”

  She laughed nervously. “I’ve only flown once, to go to Nikki’s sister’s wedding in Florida. I got a package that had six almonds in it. I counted.”

  “I hope you didn’t eat them all at once,” Dimitris joked.

  She laughed at this. “Let me see what I have in the fridge. I’ve been so busy painting…” And fretting over you, she thought, “that I haven’t even eaten lunch. I’ll whip something up for us.”

  As she peered into the refrigerator, she could feel his eyes on her. She noted eggs, butter, cheese, spinach, and a few beers. She pulled out a water bottle.

  When she handed it to him, he accepted it gratefully. She returned her focus to the ingredients spread out on the counter. With her back to him she said, “I thought maybe that you didn’t return my call because you were ignoring me. I had no idea you would jump on a plane.”

  “It was a spontaneous decision,” he said. “I was in a meeting when you called. I couldn’t pick up. Somehow, calling you back just didn’t feel right.”

  Eva placed a frying pan on the stove and turned on the heat. As she melted a pat of butter on the pan, it made a soft sizzling sound that eased the tense silence that filled the kitchen. There was so much that she wanted to say to Dimitris, but she didn’t know how to begin.

  Her mind flitted toward memories of how it had felt to be held in his arms, with nothing but the bedsheets around them. These memories flashed through her mind unbidden and made it more difficult to know what to say. She kept her back turned, and her attention on the task of making an omelet. One by one, she cracked eggs into a bowl.

  She waited for Dimitris to speak. He traveled for hours to see me, she thought. He must have something important to say.

  I’ll give him time, she decided, as she whipped the eggs and added a splash of milk. He’ll talk when he’s ready.

  When the omelet was ready, she served up large wedges, topped with tomato slices. She and Dimitris carried their plates to the living room, along with a beer each, and settled on the couch.

  Dimitris placed his plate on the coffee table and shifted slightly so that he was facing Eva.

  The food she’d prepared smelled so good, but Eva found she was too nervous to eat. Her stomach felt tense and knotted.

  Dimitris cleared his throat. “Look, I think we should talk about our night together.”

  Eva felt like a dam was breaking inside of her. A flood of relief washed through her. Even if Dimitris said something that upset her, at least they’d be making progress. Anything would be better than the tension she felt.

  “I think so, too,” she said quietly. “I’m so confused… I don’t know what to think.”

  She put her plate on the coffee table, too. She met Dimitris’s direct look and was surprised to feel hot tears well up in her eyes. She went on, unable to help herself. The words she’d been turning over in the privacy of her own mind suddenly spilled out through her lips.

  “For a minute, I thought we actually had something there. I thought we had a real connection. And then, the next morning, you acted like I was a complete stranger.”

  A tear spilled over her lower lid, and she wiped it away.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dimitris said.

  “Well, you did,” she admitted.

  “Eva, I’m so sorry.”

  A beat of silence passed. She felt afraid to speak about her honest feelings, but she knew that she had to if she wanted to release the tension in her body.

  “Dimitris, here’s the truth,” she said. “I care about you. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but it’s happening to me whether I like it or not. It’s like I can’t help it—no matter how many times I tell myself to cool off because the arrangement we made shouldn’t involve real feelings at all, they just keep coming. I think I’ve been feeling like that since we first met, and then when we spent the night together, it just got stronger.”

  She felt so vulnerable saying this to him. She looked into his eyes, hoping to discern his reaction. He looked back at her, but his expression remained neutral.

  What is he thinking? she wondered desperately.

  She plowed on. “I don’t think our night together was a mistake,” she said. “Do you?”

  It was hard to breathe as she waited for him to answer.

  He remained quiet. She could see his chest rising and falling with each breath. With each second that stretched on, she became more and more sure that he was going to tell her it was a mistake—and that it could never happen again.

  She didn’t want to hear that.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. He moved closer to her on the couch, as if pulled in by her gravity. “No,” he said. “I don’t think it was a mistake.”

  His voice was slightly hoarse with desire. His breathing was fast and shallow. She moved toward him, too, until she felt the comforting sensation of his lips on hers. This, more than words, was what she needed.

  He breathed in deeply as he kissed her, as though he’d been holding his breath for the entire duration of his trip from Greece. He brushed a thumb against her cheek, drying her tears.

  When their lips parted, he kept his forehead against hers. He stroked her cheek and let his fingers trail down to her chin. “I don’t think it was a mistake at all,” he whispered. “That never even crossed my mind.”

  “Really?” she said. “Why did you act so distant, then, that morning? You acted like you couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

  “I was uncomfortable, I guess,” he said.

  “Around me? Why?”

  He looked out at the apartment.

  As she took in his profile, she saw for the first time how intense his features could appear when he was deep in thought. Everything from the angle of his brows to the smoldering, burning quality of his eyes spoke of a man who was used to being in control. She was used to seeing him in lighter, flirtatious, playful moods. This one was new to her.

  As she looked at him and waited for him to speak, she considered the idea that his personality had layers—just as her own did.

  Of course he’s used to being in control, she thought. He owns a billion-dolla
r company. He’s used to being the boss.

  He reached out and picked up his beer. He sipped it thoughtfully, and then put it down again on the coffee table near his plate.

  “It’s difficult for me to be…” His voice drifted off. He cleared his throat, and then said, “What’s the word? Vulnerable. That’s it. That’s always been a challenge for me.”

  “It’s hard for you to be vulnerable with another person?” Eva asked. She wanted to be sure she was understanding him correctly.

  “Incredibly,” he said. “I’ve always found it difficult. But with you, something is different. I feel the need to—I don’t know how to put this into words…”

  She waited patiently, giving him space to form his thoughts.

  Then he said. “I feel the need to be honest with you. In a way that I’m not with other people in my life. I want you to know me on a deeper level. It’s an impulse that I can’t understand.”

  Butterflies stirred in her gut.

  He continued. “I feel a strong connection to you, Eva.”

  “I feel that, too,” she said.

  “Maybe that’s why I asked you to help me get citizenship,” he said. “I wanted to spend more time with you. I wanted to get to know you, but I didn’t want to admit that to you.” He emitted a humble laugh. “I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but a part of me was scared to admit that. Still is, if I’m being honest.”

  The fluttering sensation in her body intensified. She was still close to him, so close that her leg was touching his.

  She reached out and put a hand on his. “That doesn’t sound ridiculous,” she said. “I’m scared, too.”

  He turned his hand, so his palm was against hers. He let his thumb stroke the back of her hand.

  Eva went on. “It’s not easy to open up to another person, especially if you’re not used to it,” she said. “But maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s okay that we’re both scared. Maybe it’s good for us to be honest with each other, even if we have no idea where that will lead.”