Playing by the Greek's Rules

by Sarah Morgan

  His face revealed not a flicker of emotion. ‘We don’t have that sort of relationship.’

  ‘Well I know that now, but I didn’t know when I answered the phone and once he started talking he was so upset I didn’t want to hang up. He needed to talk to someone and I was in the right place at the right time.’

  ‘You think so?’ His voice was silky soft. ‘Because I would have said you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  ‘Depends how you look at it. Did you manage to clear the air?’ She risked a glance at the hard lines of his face and winced. ‘I’m guessing the answer to that is no. If I made it worse by handing you the phone, I’m sorry.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you?’

  She opened her mouth and closed it again. ‘No, not really. Family is the most important thing in the world. I don’t understand how anyone could not want to try and heal a rift. But I could see you were very angry that I’d answered the call and of course your relationship with your father is none of my business.’ But she wanted to make it her business so badly she virtually had to sit on her hands to stop herself from interfering.

  ‘For someone who realises it’s none of her business, you seem to be showing an extraordinary depth of interest.’

  ‘I feel strongly about protecting the family unit. It’s my hot button.’

  His searing glance reminded her he was intimately familiar with all her hot buttons. ‘Why did you walk out this morning?’

  The blatant reminder of the night before brought the colour rushing to her cheeks.

  ‘I thought the first rule of rebound sex was that you rebound right out of the door the next morning. I have no experience of morning-after conversation and frankly the thought of facing you over breakfast after all the things we did last night didn’t totally thrill me. And can you honestly tell me you weren’t standing in that shower working out how you were going to eject me?’ The expression on his face told her she was right and she nodded. ‘Exactly. I thought I’d spare us both a major awkward moment and leave. I grabbed a shirt and was halfway out of the door when your father rang.’

  ‘It didn’t occur to you to ignore the phone?’

  ‘I thought it might be important. And it was! He was so upset. He told me he’d already left a ton of messages.’ Concern overwhelmed her efforts not to become involved. ‘Why haven’t you been home for the past few years?’

  ‘A night in my bed doesn’t qualify you to ask those questions.’ The look in his eyes made her confidence falter.

  ‘I get the message. Nothing personal. Now back off. Last night you were charming and fun and flirty. This morning you’re scary and intimidating.’

  He inhaled deeply. ‘I apologise,’ he breathed. ‘It was not my intention to come across as scary or intimidating, but you should not have answered the phone.’

  ‘What’s done is done. And I was glad to be a listening ear for someone in pain.’

  ‘My father is not in pain.’

  ‘Yes, he is. He misses you. This rift between you is causing him agony. He wants you to go to his wedding. It’s breaking his heart that you won’t go.’

  ‘Lily—’

  ‘You’re going to tell me it’s none of my business and you’re right, it isn’t, but I don’t have a family at all. I don’t even have the broken pieces of a family, and you have no idea how much I wish I did. So you’ll have to forgive me if I have a tendency to try and glue back together everyone else’s chipped fragments. It’s the archaeologist in me.’

  ‘Lily—’

  ‘Just because you don’t believe in love, doesn’t mean you have to inflict that view on others and judge them for their decisions. Your father is happy and you’re spoiling it. He loves you and he wants you there. Whatever you are feeling, you should bury it and go and celebrate. You should raise a glass and dance at his wedding. You should show him you love him no matter what, and if this marriage goes wrong then you’ll be there to support him.’ She stopped, breathless, and waited to be frozen by the icy wind of his disapproval but he surprised her yet again by nodding.

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been trying to tell you that but you wouldn’t stop talking.’ He spoke through clenched teeth. ‘I am convinced that I should go to the wedding, which is why I’m here.’

  ‘What does the wedding have to do with me?’

  ‘I want you to come with me.’

  Lily gaped at him. ‘Me? Why?’

  He ran his hand over the back of his neck. ‘I am willing to be present if that is truly what my father wants, but I don’t have enough faith in my acting skills to believe I will be able to convince anyone that I’m pleased to be there. No matter how much he tells me Diandra is “the one”, I cannot see how this match will have a happy ending. You, however, seem to see happy endings where none exist. I’m hoping that by taking you, people will be blinded in the dazzling beam of your sunny optimism and won’t notice the dark thundercloud hovering close by threatening to rain on the proceedings.’

  The analogy made her smile. ‘You’re the dark thundercloud in that scenario?’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘You need to ask?’

  ‘You really believe this marriage is doomed? How can you say that when you haven’t even met Diandra?’

  ‘When it comes to women, my father has poor judgement. He follows his heart and his heart has no sense of direction. Frankly I can’t believe he has chosen to get married again after three failed attempts. I think it’s insane.’

  ‘I think it’s lovely.’

  ‘Which is why you’re coming as my guest.’ He reached out and lifted a small blue plate from her shelf, tipping off the earrings that were stored there. ‘This is stylish. Where did you buy it?’

  ‘I didn’t buy it, I made it. And I haven’t agreed to come with you yet.’

  ‘You made this?’

  ‘It’s a hobby of mine. There is a kiln at work and sometimes I use it. The father of one of the curators at the museum is a potter and he’s helped me. It’s interesting comparing old and new techniques.’

  He turned it in his hands, examining it closely. ‘You could sell this.’

  ‘I don’t want to sell it. I use it to store my earrings.’

  ‘Have you ever considered having an exhibition?’

  ‘Er—no.’ She gave an astonished laugh. ‘I’ve made about eight pieces I didn’t throw away. They’re all exhibited around the apartment. We use one as a soap dish.’

  ‘You’ve never wanted to do this for a living?’

  ‘What I want to do and what I can afford to do aren’t the same thing. It isn’t financially viable.’ She didn’t even allow her mind to go there. ‘And where would our soap live? Let’s talk about the wedding. A wedding is a big deal. It’s intimate and special, an occasion to be shared with friends and loved ones. You don’t even know me.’ The moment the words left her mouth she realised how ridiculous that statement was given the night they’d spent. ‘I mean obviously there are some things about me you know very well, but other things like my favourite flower and my favourite colour, you don’t know.’

  Still holding her plate, he studied her with an unsettling intensity. ‘I know all I need to know, which is that you like weddings almost as much as I hate them. Did you study art?’

  ‘Minoan art. This is a sideline. And if I go with you, people will speculate. How would you explain our relationship to your father? Would you want us to pretend to be in a relationship? Are we supposed to have known one another for ages or something?’

  ‘No.’ His frown suggested that option hadn’t occurred to him. ‘There is no need to tell anything other than the truth, which is that I’m inviting you to the wedding as a friend.’

  ‘Friend with benefits?’

  He put the plat
e back down on the shelf and replaced the earrings carefully. ‘That part is strictly between us.’

  ‘And if your father asks how we met?’

  ‘Tell him the truth. He’d be amused, I assure you.’

  ‘So you don’t want to pretend we’re madly in love or anything? I don’t have to pose as your girlfriend?’

  ‘No. You’d be going as yourself, Lily.’ A muscle flickered in his lean jaw. ‘God knows, the wedding will be stressful enough without us playing roles that feel unnatural.’

  It was his obvious distaste for lies and games that made up her mind. After David, a man whose instinct was to tell the truth was appealing. ‘When would we leave?’

  ‘Next Saturday. The wedding is on Tuesday but there will be four days of celebrations.’ It was obvious from his expression he’d rather be dragged naked through an active volcano than join in those celebrations and a horrible thought crept into her mind.

  ‘You’re not going because you’re planning to break off the wedding, are you?’

  ‘No.’ His gaze didn’t shift from hers. ‘But I won’t tell you it didn’t cross my mind.’

  ‘I’m glad you rose above your natural impulse to wreck someone else’s happiness. And if you really think it would help to have me there, then I’ll come, if only to make sure you don’t have second thoughts and decide to sabotage your father’s big day.’ Lily sank down onto the edge of her bed, thinking. ‘I’ll need to ask for time off.’

  ‘Is that a problem? I could make a few calls.’

  ‘No way!’ Imagining how the curator at the museum would respond to personal intervention from Nik Zervakis, Lily recoiled in alarm. ‘I’m quite capable of handling it myself. I don’t need to bring in the heavy artillery, I’ll simply ask the question. I’m owed holiday and my post ends in a couple of weeks anyway. Where exactly are we going? Where is “home” for you?’

  ‘My father owns an island off the north coast of Crete. You will like it. The western part of the island has Minoan remains and there is a Venetian castle on one of the hilltops. It is separated from Crete by a lagoon and the beaches are some of the best anywhere in Greece. When you’re not reminding me to smile, I’m sure you’ll enjoy exploring.’

  ‘And he owns this island? So tourists can’t visit.’

  ‘That’s right. It belongs to my family.’

  Lily looked at him doubtfully. ‘How many guests will there be?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘I wondered, that’s all.’ She wanted to ask where they’d be sleeping but decided that if his father could afford a private island then presumably there wasn’t a shortage of beds. ‘I need to go shopping.’

  ‘Given that you are doing me a favour, I insist you allow me to take care of that side of things.’

  ‘No. Apart from last night, which wasn’t real, I buy my own clothes. But thanks.’

  ‘Last night didn’t feel real?’ He gave her a long, penetrating look and she felt heat rush into her cheeks as she remembered all the very real things he’d done to her and she’d done to him.

  ‘I mean it wasn’t really my life. More like a dreamy moment you know is never going to happen again.’ Realising it was long past time she kept her mouth shut, she gave a weak smile. ‘I’ll buy or borrow clothes, don’t worry. I’m good at putting together a wardrobe. Colours are my thing. The secret is to accessorise. I won’t embarrass you even if we’re surrounded by people dressed head to toe in Prada.’

  ‘That possibility didn’t enter my head. My concern was purely about the pressure on your budget.’

  ‘I’m creative. It’s not a problem.’ She remembered she was wearing his shirt. ‘I’ll return this, obviously.’

  A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. ‘It looks better on you than it does on me. Keep it.’

  His gaze collided with hers and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Sexual tension simmered in the air and she was acutely aware of the oppressive heat in the small room that had no air conditioning. Blistering, blinding awareness clouded her vision until the only thing in her world was him. She wanted so badly to touch him. She wanted to lean into that muscled power, rip off those clothes and beg him to do all the things he’d done to her the night before. Shaken, she assumed she was alone in feeling that way and then saw something flare in his eyes and knew she wasn’t. He was sexually aroused and thinking all the things she was thinking.

  ‘Nik—’

  ‘Saturday.’ His tone was thickened, his eyes a dark, dangerous black. ‘I will pick you up at eight a.m.’

  She watched him leave, wondering what the rules of engagement were when one night wasn’t enough.

  CHAPTER SIX

  NIK PUT HIS foot down and pushed the Ferrari to its limits on the empty road that led to the north-western tip of Crete.

  He spent the majority of his time at the ZervaCo offices in San Francisco. When he returned to Crete it was to his villa on the beach near Chania, not to the island that had been his home growing up.

  For reasons he tried not to think about, he’d avoided the place for the past few years and the closer he got to their destination, the blacker his mood.

  Lily, by contrast, was visibly excited. She’d been waiting on the street when he’d arrived, her bag by her feet and she’d proceeded to question him non-stop. ‘So will this be like My Big Fat Greek Wedding? I loved that movie. Will there be dancing? Brittany and I have been learning the kalamatianós at the taverna near our apartment so I should be able to join in as long as no one minds losing their toes.’ She hummed a Greek tune to herself and he sent her an exasperated look.

  ‘Are you ever not cheerful?’

  The humming stopped and she glanced at him. ‘You want me to be miserable? Did I misunderstand the brief, because I thought I was supposed to be the sunshine to your thundercloud. I didn’t realise I had to be a thundercloud, too.’

  Despite his mood, he found himself smiling. ‘Are you capable of being a thundercloud?’

  ‘I’m human. I have my low moments, same as anyone.’

  ‘Tell me your last low moment.’

  ‘No, because then I might cry and you’d dump me by the side of the road and leave me to be pecked to death by buzzards.’ She gave him a cheery smile. ‘This is the point where you reassure me that you wouldn’t leave me by the side of the road, and that there are no buzzards in Crete.’

  ‘There are buzzards. Crete has a varied habitat. We have vultures, Golden Eagle, kestrel—’ he slowed down as he approached a narrow section of the road ‘—but I have no intention of leaving you by the side of the road.’

  ‘I’d like to think that decision is driven by your inherent good nature and kindness towards your fellow man, but I’m pretty sure it’s because you don’t want to have to go to this wedding alone.’

  ‘You’re right. My actions are almost always driven by self-interest.’

  ‘I don’t understand you at all. I love weddings.’

  ‘Even when you don’t know the people involved?’

  ‘I support the principle. I think it’s lovely that your father is getting married again.’

  Nik struggled to subdue a rush of emotion. ‘It is not lovely that he is getting married again. It’s ill advised.’

  ‘That’s your opinion. But it isn’t what you think that matters, is it? It’s what he thinks.’ She spoke with gentle emphasis. ‘And he thinks it’s a good idea. For the record, I think it says a lot about a person that he is prepared to get married again.’

  ‘It does.’ As they hit a straight section of road, he pushed the car to its limits and the engine gave a throaty roar. ‘It says he’s a man with an inability to learn from his mistakes.’

  ‘I don’t see it that way.’ Her hair whipped around her face and she anchored it with her hand and lifted her face to the s
un. ‘I think it shows optimism and I love that.’

  Hearing the breathy, happy note in her voice he shook his head. ‘Lily, how have you survived in this world without being eaten alive by unscrupulous people determined to take advantage of you?’

  ‘I’ve been hurt on many occasions.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’

  ‘It’s part of life. I’m not going to let it shatter my belief in human nature. I’m an optimist. And what would it mean to give up? That would be like saying that love isn’t out there, that it doesn’t exist, and how depressing would that be?’

  Nik, who lived his life firmly of the conviction that love didn’t exist, didn’t find it remotely depressing. To him, it was simply fact. ‘Clearly you are the perfect wedding guest. You could set up a business, weddingguests.com. Optimists-R-us. You could be the guaranteed smile at every wedding.’

  ‘Your cynicism is deeply depressing.’

  ‘Your optimism is deeply concerning.’

  ‘I prefer to think of it as inspiring. I don’t want to be one of those people who think that a challenging past has to mean a challenging future.’

  ‘You had a challenging past?’ He remembered that she’d mentioned being brought up in foster care and hoped she wasn’t about to give him the whole story.

  She didn’t. Instead she shrugged and kept her eyes straight ahead. ‘It was a bit like a bad version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I was never “just right” for anyone, but that was my bad luck. I didn’t meet the right family. Doesn’t mean I don’t believe there are loads of great families out there.’

  ‘Doesn’t what happened to you cause you to question the validity of any of these emotions you feel? The fact that the last guy lied to you and his wife doesn’t put you off relationships?’

  ‘It was one guy. I know enough about statistics to know you can’t draw a reliable conclusion from a sample of one.’ She frowned. ‘If I’m honest, I’m working from a bigger sample than that because he’s the third relationship I’ve had, but I still don’t think you can make a judgement on the opposite sex based on the behaviour of a few.’