Return of the Moralis Wife

by Jacqueline Baird

  ‘Thank you,’ she responded equally insincerely, and stiffened as two strong hands curved firmly around her shoulders and pulled her close to his long body.

  Shockingly, the strength, the warmth and the scent of him reached out to her, and a flicker of heat ignited low in her belly. He bent his dark head and in that fractured moment she knew he was going to kiss her. His lips brushed one pale cheek and then the other.

  ‘What do you think you are doing?’ she snapped, angry at her involuntary reaction to him.

  ‘Protecting my business interests,’ he mouthed against her ear. ‘A death can cause trouble in a company if there is a hint of disagreement between shareholders—and your grandfather was a shareholder.’

  How typical, Selina thought, the warmth vanishing. She almost laughed out loud, but didn’t dare. She had a horrible feeling that after the emotional upheaval of the past few days she would end up crying.

  Taking a step back, she shrugged his hands from her shoulders. ‘You have not changed,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Always business first—last and always.’

  ‘Not always. The last time I was on this island was the day I married you—and I didn’t have business on my mind then,’ he drawled.

  Selina glared at him—and wished she hadn’t. The latent desire in his dark eyes reminded her of another time, and for a moment she could not look away. But as he continued to speak her problem was solved.

  ‘But you are right, Selina, business is my passion—which is lucky for you. You are about to become a wealthy woman … but then you probably already know that.’

  He was still the overwhelmingly arrogant chauvinistic pig she remembered—and she also remembered something else.

  ‘All I know is that for a man who the last time we met swore never to see or speak to me again you are remarkably visible and verbose,’ she said mockingly, and had no trouble walking away to join the priest.

  She thanked him for the service and strolled with him to a waiting limousine. It was a mile from the church to the villa, and she was glad to escape into the air-conditioned interior of the car. She was hot and angry and she could not be sure it was just the sun …

  From the first time she’d set eyes on him Rion had made her blush and a whole lot more … But never again she vowed. She knew him for what he really was. Most men would be content to be born with wealth, but not Rion. He was a ruthless, manipulative devil who would step over anyone who got in the way of his driving ambition for more wealth and power. Since they had parted she had seen men a whole lot worse than Rion, she conceded, but with the same driven need.

  Men who pursued their own selfish desires to the detriment of others and who were instrumental in the choices she had made in her own life …

  Selina had a point, Rion conceded, a wry smile twisting his lips as he watched her walk away. Her shapely bottom swayed temptingly beneath the tight black skirt of the elegant sheath dress she wore. She still had a fantastic pair of legs, he noted as her dress rode up to her thighs as she slid into the backseat of a limo, and she had obviously learned how to walk in high heels. Selina had always been a lovely girl, but now she had fulfilled her potential and matured into a stunningly elegant and beautiful woman.

  Rion’s resolve hardened as he began the walk to the Stakis villa. When he had held her he had seen in the darkening depths of her expressive eyes that for all her outrage Selina wasn’t immune to him. The attraction was still there.

  Yes, seducing Selina would give him incredible satisfaction. Every rampant hormone in his body was telling him that. As would her final surrender and her humble apology for having the colossal nerve to try and tarnish his good name by suggesting they contest their divorce in an open court.

  The memory of the action Rion’s lawyer had first suggested he pursue—labeling Selina an adulteress for the rest of her life—conveniently escaped him, but while he walked towards the Stakis home his determination to make sure Selina didn’t escape him grew with every step he took …

  Selina sensed the moment Rion walked into the room—because however much she tried she couldn’t quite dispel the disturbing awareness that arose within her whenever she was in his presence. And she wasn’t the only one, she recognised.

  Dynamic and strikingly attractive, he bore a sophisticated air of wealth and power combined with a raw animal magnetism. Men and woman alike could not help but recognise it, and the momentary pause in the chatter of conversation confirmed it.

  The noise and laughter soon resumed and she thought dryly that the Greeks certainly knew how to enjoy themselves.

  After pretending to listen to Mr Kadiekis, her grandfather’s lawyer, waxing lyrical about his brilliant son who had just passed his law exams, she excused herself, with the explanation that she needed to check on the staff. She wove her way through the guests with a pleasantry to some and an acceptance of condolences to others.

  Selina had almost made it to the kitchen when Rion stopped in front of her, blocking her way through the crowd of people.

  ‘You are looking flushed, Selina. I saw you talking to your grandfather’s lawyer. Anticipation getting to you?’ he prompted, and looked at her with a hint of mocking arrogance in his expression.

  The smirk and his cynical implication that she was here for what she could get from her grandfather’s death got to her. Tossing back her head, she let her eyes clash with his. ‘I don’t know what you are trying to imply, and I don’t want to know. You will have to excuse me. I need to check the kitchen,’ she said, coolly polite.

  ‘No, you don’t. You simply want to avoid me. And I have to wonder why,’ he replied, with the sardonic arch of one black brow.

  Selina tilted her chin and looked up at him. ‘We are divorced—have been for years, remember?’ she prompted, sarcasm evident in her tone. ‘And, to be blunt, I don’t like you.’ She’d told him straight—now he would leave her alone.

  ‘There was a time when you did,’ he said, and the reminiscent gleam in the dark eyes that met hers made her heart miss a beat. ‘Once we were as close as two people can be, Selina … a hell of a lot more than once,’ he teased softly.

  For a second, a vivid image of their bodies entwined flashed in her mind, and she wished it had not.

  ‘True, we parted badly, but I forgave and forgot years ago. Surely now we can be friends?’

  Friends? Rion had to be joking after the way he had treated her. She recognised the basic all-masculine gleam in his eyes—she had seen it in many a man’s eyes in the years they had been apart. She wasn’t a naive teenager any more, and she knew it wasn’t a friend he wanted. But she couldn’t prevent the sudden tightening in her chest or the throb of her pulse. Anger, she told herself, and swallowed hard. She was unable to speak for a moment, or tear her gaze away.

  Rion took a glass of wine from the tray of a passing waitress and handed it to her.

  ‘Here—join me in a drink for old times’ sake. As I recall we had our moments …’ he drawled, his gaze roaming brazenly over her body.

  Selina knew exactly the moments he was referring to. Without thinking she took the glass. Their fingers brushed and a shiver snaked down her spine. Quickly she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. Long-buried memories were resurfacing in her mind. The connection she had felt the moment she saw him, their first kiss, their lovemaking, his tanned, naked body, all muscle and sinew … He had been like a Greek god to her, with his thick, silky black hair and his soulful eyes with their curtains of black lashes …

  Damn—what was she thinking? Selina blinked. There was nothing soulful about Rion. Soulless, more like. She took another gulp of wine. Why on earth was she recalling the good times they had shared when the bad had far outnumbered everything else?

  Selina had been married to Rion for eight weeks when his father had retired and set off with Helen on a world cruise. They had moved from Rion’s apartment to stay at the family home and watch over his half sister Iris for a the last couple of weeks of her summer vaca
tion, and then see her safely returned to the international school she attended in Switzerland. During the second week, Rion had gone to Saudi Arabia on business.

  Iris had asked if she could invite some friends over on the Thursday evening, for a farewell party before she returned to school. Rion had not been due back until the Friday night, so Selina had agreed—she hadn’t seen any harm in Iris having a little party.

  Selina could still recall every minute detail of the whole mortifying scene when Rion had returned unexpectedly very early the next morning. Hearing her name called, she had woken from a deep sleep to glimpse a half-naked man dashing out of her room. Rising up on her elbows, she’d seen Rion standing at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes blazing with fury, rage etched in every line of his hard face.

  ‘Rion …’ She’d shaken her head in confusion. ‘What …? Who was that …?’

  ‘Your lover,’ he snapped, his eyes as hard as jet, his face suddenly an expressionless mask. ‘Get up, clean up and get out. The marriage is finished. I never want to see or speak to you again.’

  ‘You can’t mean that—this is some ghastly mistake!’ she’d cried.

  But it had been no mistake. He’d spun on his heel and left without another word.

  She remembered the utter humiliation she had felt when she’d realised Rion had instructed the staff to escort her from the house before noon and ordered a car to send her back to her grandfather in disgrace—the adulteress wife on her nineteenth birthday, of all days. She’d tried to get in touch with Rion but it had been hopeless. As he had sworn on the morning he threw her out, he wouldn’t see her, wouldn’t listen and wouldn’t speak to her.

  The final disillusionment had come a day later, when she’d managed to meet Iris. Selina had told Iris she was sure she had not had sex with the boy, Jason, as that evening she had gone to bed early, with a couple of painkillers for cramps. The next morning, confused and in tears after Rion’s dismissal of her, she had stumbled into the shower and realised the feminine protection she wore was still firmly in place.

  Iris had just laughed and said she knew anyway. Then she had admitted that Jason, the neighbours’ gardener, was her boyfriend. After Selina had gone to bed the rest of them had continued drinking. Iris had told Jason to wait until everyone had left and then give her ten minutes before following her up to her bedroom, the second on the left. Unfortunately the idiot had taken the second on the right, ended up in Selina’s bed and passed out.

  Jason had told her the sound of footsteps in the hall had awakened him, and when he’d seen a redhead instead of Iris’s black hair on the pillow next to him he’d been horrified. Panicking, he had leapt out of bed, pulling on his pants, and had run for the door just as Rion had walked in. Head down, he hadn’t stopped running until he was out of the house.

  Selina had begged Iris to tell Rion the truth but she’d flatly refused, saying her life would not be worth living if she did. Rion would tell her parents and she would be grounded for months—if not years. To justify her refusal Iris had told Selina that Rion had already arranged to take her back to school tomorrow and fly on from Switzerland to the USA, for an unspecified length of time. Selina would be better off going back to England and to university, she’d told her, and getting on with her life. Because Rion didn’t really love her. He had only married her to seal a business deal with her grandfather.

  Iris had overheard her parents talking about it when they’d thought she was asleep in the back of the car on the way home from Selina and Rion’s engagement party at a deluxe Athens hotel. She’d added that Rion would never be faithful anyway, because much as she adored her brother he was a confirmed womaniser. To prove her point she’d got out her laptop and shown Selina some of the pictures and comments Rion’s female friends had posted on social websites.

  Reading what other women said about their relationships with Rion had been mortifying. One had been a posting by a woman called Chloe, pictured with Rion in a dimly lit club. The date was a date that was engraved on Selina’s mind: the night she had first met Rion and he had kissed her. He had lied even then! He had not hurried off after dinner for a conference call but to meet this woman …

  But what had finally convinced Selina was a shot of Rion arguing with a photographer outside a nightclub with a woman named Lydia looking on. Iris had told her that Rion had been in love with Lydia, and wanted to marry her years ago. But she had married a banker, Bastias, instead.

  Sickeningly, Selina had realised, that Rion had introduced her to this Lydia and a woman friend in a restaurant on one of the rare occasions he had taken her out to dinner. Her heart, already cracked, had finally shattered into a million pieces, her love destroyed and turned to dust.

  She’d been left devastated, but angry with herself for being such a fool, and on returning to England Selina had determined to get back at Rion through his arrogant pride. Amazingly, she had succeeded—and though it had not mended her broken heart it had gone a long way to restoring her confidence, Selina thought now as she drained her glass of wine. She was a much stronger woman for the experience, and she had no need to fear Rion any more. He wasn’t worth a moment of her time.

  Rion had fooled her and used her. It was that simple. The words bartered bride sprang to mind …

  ‘You and I were never friends, Rion,’ she said bluntly. ‘And I never needed your forgiveness. If anything it was the other way round. But, as you said, it was a long time ago and long forgotten.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Selina.’

  His hand reached around her waist and pulled her closer. She felt the heat of his body through the few inches of space separating them and her heart skipped a beat.

  ‘I found you in bed with another man, not the other way round as you tried to imply in the divorce.’

  It was the arrogant drawl and the mockery that cooled her senses. ‘I didn’t have to try. Anyone knowing your reputation with women believed me. Whereas you leapt at the chance to name me an adulteress wife simply because a drunken boy passed out in the wrong bed,’ Selina shot back flippantly, though she was battling to still her suddenly racing pulse.

  ‘You know me so well, it seems, Selina,’ Rion said, his lips twisting in a smile as his hand fell from her waist. He straightened up, and there was not a hint of amusement in the dark eyes that clashed with hers. They were as hard and cold as ice.

  ‘My problem was I never knew you at all.’ She shook her head. ‘But it no longer matters,’ she said, taking a step back. ‘Now, I must check the kitchen.’

  Rion’s eyes narrowed on her flushed, determined face. That she had the nerve to try and defend the indefensible with a feeble excuse that a drunk had passed out in her bed was unbelievable, and fuelled his anger and determination to have her back in his bed.

  With a shrug of his broad shoulders he moved to one side to let her pass. ‘Oh, it matters, Selina. But I can wait.’

  Wait? What for? Selina wondered. They had nothing to say to each other—never had, really. She had been an innocent, gullible teenager who had fallen madly in love with the first man who kissed her, and it had suited Rion to marry her at the time. She had been taken for a fool and discarded at the first opportunity he could find because he had got the company he wanted. It was that basic. And why was she wasting her time thinking about the past? She had moved on years ago, and in a day or two she could go back to her normal life, where her focus was really needed.

  She walked past him, her head high, and made it to the kitchen. With a smile for Anna, busy arranging pastries on a tray, she took a bottle of water from the fridge. She picked up a glass from the bench and sat down at the table with a sigh of relief. She poured the sparkling water into the glass and, lifting it to her lips, drank most of it down in one go.

  ‘You look like you needed that,’ Anna said, and the compassion in the older woman’s dark eyes restored Selina’s mood a little.

  ‘You are right, Anna—I did.’ Selina sighed. ‘I never expected the funeral service to be so
long. I thought I was going to faint with the heat at the graveside.’ It had nothing to do with the hateful Rion and her recent brush with him.

  ‘Not surprising. It has been a stressful day for everyone. But hiding in here won’t help.’

  ‘I’m not hiding—simply taking a break from the guests. Most of whom I don’t know anyway,’ Selina said truthfully.

  But she harboured no doubts that they all knew her, and knew the lurid stories about her. From illegitimate granddaughter to adulterous wife, she thought bitterly.

  ‘One guest you know well: Orion Moralis. I’m sorry, it must have been a shock for you seeing him here. It never occurred to me he that would come to the funeral, because after you left he never spoke to your grandfather again. But I suppose it is the socially correct thing to do.’

  ‘More likely good business,’ Selina said dryly. ‘And there is no need to apologize. I’ve spoken to Rion and we are friends—it is fine,’ she lied.

  ‘Thank goodness for that. Apparently his yacht arrived late last night. According to the gardener, who spoke to one of the crew this morning, they were heading to the Egyptian coast but diverted to here. It seems a lot of effort to attend the funeral of a man he had not seen in years. I was worried there might be something else, and I didn’t want to see you hurt again.’

  Anna knew the truth about their brief marriage. Selina had confided in Anna when she had so ignominiously been sent back to her grandfather, and Anna believed Selina’s version of events.

  ‘There is no fear of that happening,’ Selina said, rising to her feet. ‘Now the funeral is over and everything is settled I will be leaving tomorrow morning. I have a flight booked back to England tomorrow night, so I can spend a week with Aunt Peggy before returning to work. I promise, Anna, you have nothing to worry about. You can carry on as usual, looking after the villa until you want to retire. I know my grandfather will have taken care of you.’ She knew this to be true, as her grandfather had told her so before he died. ‘Now I’d better get back to the guests. Hopefully they will start leaving soon.’