Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife

by Sabrina Philips

  And so her conversations with Rion had become a ritual, however infrequent, which she’d survived on for the duration of her teenage years. And though the details they’d actually shared with one another during those conversations had been sparse—he’d rarely spoken about his childhood, and never mentioned any family other than his mother, who’d brought him to England when he was in his early teens—at the time she’d only seen that lack of information as a positive. He’d obviously had no wish to discuss what must have been a difficult period in his life, and she had understood that, because she’d had no wish to talk about her childhood either.

  The whole appeal of their conversations had been that they’d offered an escape from that—a freshly created world where nothing that had gone before mattered. And, although she’d never really been able to see a way in which marriage to him might be possible, nor imagine exactly how it might be if it was, she hadn’t stopped dreaming about living in that world all the time.

  Until one January day, not long after her nineteenth birthday, when she’d passed the showroom accidentally-on-purpose and found him actually waiting for her. He’d had a smile on his face so uncontainable that remembering it made her heart flip over even now.

  ‘Rion, what is it?’

  ‘Your father—he’s promoted me. I’m going to be the showroom manager.’

  ‘That’s fantastic!’ She beamed and threw her arms out, but just stopped short of embracing him, suddenly afraid that she might have imagined the significance of their conversations. Until he reached out and took her hands in his for the first time, and looked her straight in the eye.

  ‘It means that I’m going to be on a really decent salary.’

  She nodded enthusiastically, her hands shaking.

  He took a deep breath. ‘There’s something I want to ask you. That I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time. Before I didn’t think…but now…’

  Libby’s heart rose ten inches in her chest.

  She heard his breath come thick and fast, his voice shaky. ‘Would you consider marrying me, Liberty Ashworth?’

  Her arms didn’t hesitate this time. She threw them round him, and then he kissed her. The first and most magical kiss of her entire life.

  ‘I know that technically I’m supposed to ask your father first, but—’

  ‘No…this is perfect,’ she breathed—because it was. The choice of who she married was hers, not anybody else’s, and it meant the world to her that he understood that.

  But her father didn’t agree. When they went to ask for his blessing Thomas Ashworth fired Rion on the spot for his impudence.

  ‘I have promoted you from valet to showroom manager in four short years and that is still not enough for you? How dare you consider yourself worthy enough to even look at my daughter? I try to nurture your talent for selling and this is how you repay me?’ he spat. And then he made it clear to Libby that if she even tried to contact Orion again, he would banish her from the Ashworth family completely.

  Her father had meant is as a threat, of course, but to Libby it had simply acted as an incentive. To swap her life of oppression for one of freedom. But it hadn’t been until she and Rion had eloped to Athens that she’d realised she’d been utterly naïve to suppose they could go on living in that imaginary world, that marriage to anyone could have given her the autonomy she’d so desperately needed.

  Libby drew in a ragged breath as the view from the aircraft window became more rural, and ran her hand through the short length of her hair, frustrated that she’d recalled the past in such damned fine detail again. But then she’d always had remarkable powers of recollection. It was a blessing in her job—that she remembered every travel guide she’d ever read was what had convinced Kate to take her on in the first place, when her practical experience had been non-existent—but it felt like a curse now.

  ‘So, what business do you have in Metameikos?’ she said loudly above the noise of the plane, determined to distract herself from remembering any more.

  She saw the edge of his lip curl in amusement. ‘For a minute there I thought the cat had got your tongue.’ He paused over the English phrase, as if it amused him to remember one so fitting. ‘What were you thinking about?’

  ‘Nothing in particular.’

  ‘No? I could have sworn you were looking at my hands, remembering how it felt to have them touch you.’

  Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘So you’re a mind-reader and a pilot? Is there no end to the talents you’ve acquired in the last five years?’

  ‘I wasn’t reading your mind, gineka mou, I was reading your body.’

  All too aware that he was an expert at that, Libby reverted to her original choice of subject. ‘So, what business do you have in Metameikos?’

  ‘I have some meetings to attend, some functions at which I need to make an appearance. Plus there are some things I need to sort out at my property before I settle there permanently.’

  Libby was so surprised by this information that she let the frankly detailless description of his business go unchallenged. He’d barely mentioned Metameikos in the past, let alone expressed any desire to return there permanently.

  ‘You are making Metameikos your home? I always presumed it didn’t mean that much to you.’

  Rion’s lips barely moved. ‘It’s a business decision.’

  ‘But your main offices are in Athens, aren’t they?’

  ‘Indeed.’

  Libby frowned. That he’d as good as stated he had no emotional attachment to the place came as no surprise to her—especially now that it appeared he had no emotional attachment to anything other than money—but then why move there? She didn’t know a great deal about Metameikos, compared with her detailed knowledge of many other parts of the world, but she did know that it was no Athens when it came to its business credentials. What she could recall was that it was Greece’s only independent province and that it was pretty much divided in two—one half being one of the poorest areas of the whole country, where she knew Rion had grown up, whilst the other was full of luxury holiday homes belonging to the very wealthy. If she remembered correctly, it was best known for a well-preserved ancient amphitheatre somewhere in the middle. There were no prizes for guessing which side they were heading to now, but why he planned on staying there permanently was a mystery.

  ‘I hope to have an office in Metameikos too, soon.’

  Libby nodded, but remained unconvinced. She supposed if he was branching out into all aspects of the leisure industry then the location was a desirable one for watersports and the like, but it still puzzled her. Maybe it was some kind of tax haven. ‘Your meetings these next couple of weeks are related to that, then?’

  ‘Indirectly,’ he replied vaguely. ‘This evening we will attend a play at the amphitheatre there.’

  ‘A play?’ she repeated back at him in astonishment, surprised not only that his time would be spent on something other than crunching numbers, but also that he wanted her to join him.

  Rion gritted his teeth. So, she thought a man like him wasn’t capable of enjoying a little culture. ‘How is it that you are so adamant we lay the past to rest, when it is perfectly obvious you will never forget mine?’

  She frowned. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘I mean that much has changed.’

  ‘Has it?’ she asked, a flicker of hope igniting in her heart as the plane touched down, his landing utterly flawless.

  ‘Why don’t you see for yourself?’ he asked, inclining his head towards the extensive property spanning the horizon. ‘We’re here.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  OF COURSE, he only meant much had changed in terms of the kind of house he now owned and the kind of car he now drove, Libby thought dejectedly as they headed away from the airstrip towards the property in the distance, in his top-of-the-range Bugatti—the only car on the planet, if her memory served her correctly, that was worth more than the 1958 Ashworth Liberty. The car her father had named her after in the single
greatest irony of her life.

  But, although all signs pointed towards Rion’s home being some equally extravagant and overstated villa on the more affluent side of Metameikos, when he rolled the car to a halt outside, she discovered to her surprise that it was not.

  It was a period house built of stone, and had two different levels with steps running between them that were covered in terracotta pots overflowing with flowers. There were charming wooden shutters at the windows, and although the grounds were extensive, the house itself wasn’t oppressively huge or ostentatious in any way. It looked like the perfect family home. What was more, if she’d ascertained things correctly during the drive here, it was situated pretty much in between the affluent side and the less privileged side of the province, just in front of the impressively preserved amphitheatre—which must have been the structure she had seen from the runway.

  ‘What made you choose here?’ she breathed, running her hand over the stonework, convinced he’d say he hadn’t picked it out himself at all, but that when the need to relocate had arisen he’d left the selection of his accommodation up to an employee.

  Rion paused for a moment, remembering how he and Jason had sat at the top of the amphitheatre, looking down at the house and the well-off family who had called it home. Owning it one day had been his only life goal then. Until Jason’s death. Until she’d left him. He answered gruffly, ‘As a kid, it was the house I always swore I’d own one day.’

  He indicated for her to follow him in but Libby stalled on the threshold, astonished not only to discover that he did seem to have some attachment to Metameikos, but that for one of the first times ever he’d just given her a glimpse into his childhood.

  Rion looked back over his shoulder to find her hovering on the doorstep. ‘It’s a little late to be having second thoughts about our arrangement now, gineka mou.’

  ‘I’m not,’ she said quickly, and then wished she hadn’t sounded so sure about it. ‘I was just admiring the house.’

  And having second thoughts of a different nature, no doubt, Rion thought cynically as she admired the décor of the hall. Like why she hadn’t demanded half of everything he owned in her precious petition for divorce.

  ‘I never expected it to be so…I don’t know…’

  But before she could find the right word to complete her sentence they both heard footsteps.

  Rion turned and walked to the bottom of the staircase. ‘Eurycleia.’ He smiled warmly.

  Libby looked up to see a woman who must have been in her mid-sixties descending the stairs, duster in hand.

  Rion tilted his head upwards and switched into Greek. ‘The house looks fantastic.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘I hope you have not been working here all day.’

  The old woman’s eyes twinkled as she reached the second to last step, which put her on a level height with Rion. She placed her hands on the sides of his head in a motherly gesture and kissed him on the forehead. ‘You know it’s my pleasure. Welcome back.’

  She raised her eyes then, and caught sight of Libby for the first time. ‘Orion Delikaris,’ she said, swiping him with the duster. ‘Are you so rude that you are going to leave your guest just standing there, without even introducing us?’

  Rion sighed and shook his head in an affectionate gesture which said Well, I would have if you’d given me the chance. ‘Libby,’ he said, beckoning her over, ‘this is Eurycleia, my housekeeper and a dear old friend. Eurycleia, I’d like you to meet Libby…’ He paused. ‘My wife.’

  Eurycleia’s eyes widened, and then she gasped in delight, clapped her hands together and rushed over to greet Libby with a kiss on both cheeks.

  It took Libby completely by surprise. Not Eurycleia’s benevolent welcome, but the way Rion had introduced her. It had been perfectly obvious in Athens that he’d never mentioned he had a wife, and she hadn’t supposed he’d planned on changing that now. Because surely if word got out that he was married it would be unpleasantly public for him if it didn’t work out? Unless…unless he was really that certain that it would?

  Libby ignored the blood pounding in her ears at the thought. If Eurycleia was an old friend whose confidence could be trusted, it didn’t count. She switched into Greek herself. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eurycleia.’

  Rion’s head shot up in surprise, but he didn’t say a word.

  ‘Beautiful and clever.’ Eurycleia gave another delighted gasp, but before Libby could deny any such thing, Rion interrupted.

  ‘Thank you, Eurycleia, for all you hard work. But I’m afraid Libby and I do not have long to refresh ourselves before we must attend the play this evening. Will you leave us now?’

  Eurycleia looked inexplicably serious, as if he’d just announced he had to prepare to go to war. ‘Of course you must. I will just collect my things and then I’ll be gone.’ She touched Rion’s arm on her way past. ‘There are some fresh honey and walnut biscuits in the kitchen, if either of you are peckish.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Rion said gratefully. ‘And perhaps if you wouldn’t mind taking the next couple of weeks off—paid, of course. You’ll understand, I’m sure, that Libby and I would like some time alone.’

  Eurycleia looked momentarily hurt, but then nodded respectfully and began to scuttle back upstairs.

  ‘Spend some extra time with that toy-boy of yours,’ Rion chuckled after her, lightening the mood.

  Eurycleia threw her hands exasperatedly in the air and turned back to Libby. ‘He is three years younger than me—sixty-two!’ She clicked her tongue at Rion. ‘You make it sound as if he is twenty!’

  Libby smiled after her, but the second Eurycleia had turned the corner at the top of the stairs she followed Rion into the open plan kitchen/living room and her face became solemn. ‘I hardly think dismissing her altogether was necessary.’

  Rion scowled, completely misinterpreting her meaning. ‘No? You mean so long as you have someone to wait on you hand and foot you don’t care whose sensibilities you might offend?’

  She blinked, baffled. ‘You mean if Eurycleia realises our marriage isn’t what it seems?’

  ‘No, Libby. I mean if Eurycleia walks in and finds us making love in the shower, or on the kitchen table, or sprawled out on the rug—’

  Libby’s heart-rate rocketed, and she fought to stop her mind from filling with all the erotic images he’d just conjured. ‘Just because you are technically my husband it doesn’t mean you have to make love to me, Rion.’

  Rion searched her eyes for proof that she was just feigning naïveté again. But he couldn’t see it. He stood back and regarded her thoughtfully. Was it possible that she really believed he didn’t want her? Yes, he realised suddenly, maybe it was. Because a man who possessed any integrity wouldn’t want a wife who didn’t think him good enough, who’d run away, who was guilty of infidelity. He gave a bitter snort of laughter. It had to be the only time she’d ever over-estimated him.

  ‘No,’ he growled, ‘I shouldn’t want you. But my body doesn’t give a damn about that.’

  Libby eyed him doubtfully, but before she had time to wonder if there was a strand of truth in his words he showed her, placing his hands around the small of her waist and drawing her so close to his body that she could feel the hard shaft of his erection against her belly.

  ‘Now are you convinced?’ he murmured.

  Liquid heat began to pump through her veins. She forced herself to step backwards, but he hauled her against his body again, placed one long finger under her chin and tilted it upwards, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  ‘I want you.’

  No, it wasn’t possible. She knew it wasn’t because—Libby searched his face for the look of indifference she’d read on his face every day of their marriage, every time they’d made love.

  But she couldn’t see it now.

  She blinked hard and searched again.

  She still couldn’t see it, because unless she was mistaken it wasn’t there. All she could see was what looked like red-hot need.


  ‘And I know you don’t want to, but you do still want me, don’t you, Libby?’ he whispered raggedly, lowering his head so that his mouth was so agonisingly close she could feel the heat of his breath against her lips.

  ‘I…’ Her breath caught in her throat as he stroked the finger he had been resting beneath her chin across her shoulderblade and down the side of her body, so that the backs of his knuckles grazed the side of her breast. Her nipples tightened to unbearable peaks. ‘I—’

  ‘I’ll be off, then—oh, I’m sorry.’

  Libby and Rion sprung apart as Eurycleia stuck her head around the door of the living room and then beat a hasty retreat.

  Rion left Libby reeling in the middle of the room and strode towards the door, utterly shameless. ‘Thank you, Eurycleia. Enjoy your time off.’

  ‘I’m sure I will.’ She nodded, hurrying towards the front door with an embarrassed wave goodbye.

  Rion closed the door behind her and turned back to Libby. ‘Now do you see why dismissing Eurycleia is a good idea, gineka mou?’

  Libby could feel her chest rising and falling, but her mind was too hazy with desire and disbelief to speak. Was it possible that he did really want her? She had sworn she wouldn’t let herself even imagine it until she had evidence, but what had that been, if not solid proof?

  Rion flicked a look down at his watch. ‘Much as I would gladly finish proving why, I’m afraid it will have to keep another few hours,’ he drawled. ‘The play starts in forty-five minutes. I presume you wish to change?’

  Libby looked down at her crumpled blouse, her mind racing. The play. His desire. How many other things had changed too? She nodded.

  ‘The bathroom is the second door on the right at the top of the stairs. Be ready to leave in twenty-five minutes.’

  She’d showered, changed into a gypsy-style dress, and been ready to go in even less time that that, but three-quarters of an hour later, as they settled down on the cushions and blankets which had been laid out to make the stone seats of the theatron more comfortable, she only wished her mind was as settled. Because now Eurycleia wasn’t the only one he’d told about her. He’d just introduced her as his wife to the man who’d shown them to their seats, and to the elderly couple next to them too.