Bought ForThe Greek's Bed

by Julia James

  Vicky got to her feet. ‘ Theakis,’ she started heavily, ‘you seriously must be living on another planet if you think for a moment that I—’

  ‘Sit down, if you please.’

  The instruction was tersely issued. Abruptly, Vicky sat, and then was annoyed with herself that she had.

  ‘Thespinis Fournatos—somewhere between your intemperate reaction, your uncle’s very understandable desires and my own unwillingness to stand by helplessly while your uncle’s company is taken over we must reach an agreement acceptable to all. Therefore what I propose is this.’ His gaze levelled with hers, and he placed his hands flat on the arms of his chair. ‘We enter into a formal marriage in the private but mutual understanding that it will be of very limited duration—sufficient merely to see your uncle through this current crisis and satisfy public and social decencies. I believe that when your uncle has his company safe again he will accept the dissolution of our brief marriage and will come to other arrangements for the long-term future of the Fournatos group. If you have the regard for your uncle which you say you have, then you will agree to this proposal.’

  Emotions roiled heavily in Vicky’s breast. One was resentment at being spoken to as if she were a mix between a simpleton and an ingrate. The other was more complex—and at the same time a lot more simple.

  She didn’t want to marry Theo Theakis. Not for any reason, period. The very idea was absurd and ludicrous and insane. It was also—

  She veered her thoughts away. Pulled her eyes away from him. She didn’t like sitting here, this close to him, alone in his huge office. Theo Theakis disturbed her, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

  She forced herself to look at him again. He was still levelling that impassive, unreadable gaze on her, but she could see, deep at the back of his eyes, the glint in it. There was antagonism there, and something else, too, and she liked that least of all.

  She jumped to her feet again. This time Theo Theakis did not order her to sit down. She clutched her handbag to her chest and spoke.

  ‘I don’t believe there isn’t a different way to deal with this,’ she said. ‘There just has to be!’

  And then she walked out.

  The problem was, it was one thing to march out of Theo Theakis’s executive office in umbrage, but quite another to face her uncle again. It was evident, she realised with a sinking heart, that as far as he was concerned of course she would be marrying the man she now knew would be saving his company. That Aristides had kept this information from her only fuelled her sorrow. The awful thing was that, had it not been for her visit to Theo and his brutal explanation of the cruel facts, she would have had no hesitation in telling Aristides, as gently as she could, that she could not possibly entertain the idea of marrying a man who was virtually a stranger. Let alone one who caused such a frisson of hyper-awareness in her every time she set eyes on him.

  But because she now knew just how vital it was for her uncle to be able to wrap up Theo Theakis’s financial help in a dynastic marriage, she simply could not do it.

  Yet how could she possibly agree to such a marriage? It was out of the question! Even if it was limited to the superficial temporary marriage of convenience that Theo Theakis was advocating.

  I can’t possibly marry him! It’s absurd, ludicrous, ridiculous…

  But even though those were the words she deliberately used to describe such a marriage, she could feel her resistance being eroded. The more closely she studied her uncle’s face, the more she could see the web of anxiety in it, the fear haunting the back of his eyes. For him, it seemed, everything depended on her accepting this marriage proposal. And as far as her uncle was concerned, Vicky could see, no young woman in her right mind would dream of turning it down! It offered everything—a husband who was not just extremely wealthy but magnetically attractive, who was lusted after by all other females, and held in respect and esteem by all men. What on earth was there to turn down? To her uncle, he was an ideal husband…

  It was a clash of worlds, she knew. Her modern world, where you married for love and romance, and his, where you married for family, financial security and social suitability. A clash that could not be resolved—or explained. Every instinct told her that she could not—should not—do what her uncle wanted. And yet her heart squeezed. If she turned down this marriage proposal—even on the terms that Theo Theakis was offering her—the consequences for her uncle would be catastrophic.

  I can’t do it to him! I can’t let him go under! But I can’t possibly marry a man I don’t know, for any reason whatsoever! But if I don’t, then my uncle will be ruined…

  Round and round the dilemma went in her head, making dinner that evening a gruelling ordeal. Vicky was horribly aware of the expectant-yet-anxious expression that was constantly in her uncle’s eyes, both day and night, and she herself endured a fitful, sleepless night. And so it was with a sense of escape the following morning that she took a telephone call from London.

  But her pleasure in hearing Jem’s voice swiftly turned to dismay. She had left the running of Freshstart to him while she was in Greece, but before the phone call was over she realised it had been a mistake. Jem was great with kids—he could make emotional contact with the most troubled teenager—but as an organiser and administrator he was, she had to admit, poor.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Vicky, but it seems I didn’t get that grant application in on time and the deadline has passed. Now we can’t apply again till next year.’ Jem’s voice was apologetic. ‘They were shorthanded with the kids, so I went to help out, and then I was out of time to get the form into the post.’

  Vicky suppressed a sigh of irritation. Even with the money her father had left, the charity needed every penny it could raise, and the grant she’d been counting on getting would have gone a long way. Now she had even more on her plate to worry about, despite the unbelievable situation she found herself in here in Greece.

  However, soon her attention had to return to that, when, shortly after she’d finished speaking to Jem, there was another phone call for her.

  It was Theo Theakis.

  ‘I would like you to join me for lunch,’ he informed her with minimal preamble, and told her the name of the restaurant and the time he wanted her to be there. Then he hung up. Vicky stared at the phone resentfully, wishing the man to perdition.

  All the same, she presented herself at the designated location at the appointed hour, and slid into her seat as Theo Theakis got to his feet at her approach. Instinctively, she avoided anything but the briefest eye contact with him, and self-consciously ignored the various speculative glances that were obviously coming their way.

  Her lunch partner wasted little time in getting to the point.

  ‘I do not wish to harass you, but a decision from you on the matter under consideration is needed without delay,’ he began, as soon as the waiter had taken their orders. ‘The marauding company has just acquired another tranche of shares. Other shareholders are clearly wavering. Unless a very clear signal is sent to them imminently to say that I am aligning myself with Aristides they will start to sell out in critical numbers. So…’ His dark eyes rested on her without expression. ‘Once again I must ask you whether you are prepared to accept the recommendation I made to you yesterday.’

  She could feel her hands tensing in her lap.

  ‘There has to be another way of—’ she began tightly.

  ‘There isn’t.’ Theo Theakis’s voice was brusque. ‘If there were, I would take it. However, if you are still of the same mind as you were yesterday afternoon—’ again Vicky could hear the note of critical condemnation in his voice, and it raised her hackles automatically ‘—then allow me to mention something that was omitted from our exchange then.’

  He paused a moment, and Vicky made herself meet his eyes. They were quite opaque, but there was something in them that was even more disturbing than usual. She wanted to look away, but grimly she held on.

  He started to speak agai
n.

  ‘Because of your upbringing in England I appreciate that the concept of a dynastic marriage such as your uncle hopes for is very alien to you. However…’ He paused again minutely, as if deciding whether to say what he went on to say. ‘There is another aspect of such arrangements which your lack of familiarity with them might require me to make plain to you. It is the matter of the marriage settlement. Although the issue is complicated by the matter of the threat to your uncle’s company, nevertheless in simplistic terms the outcome for yourself would be a sum of money set aside—in the form, if you like, of a dowry. No, do not interrupt me, if you please—I appreciate you find the term archaic, but that is irrelevant.’

  He broke off while the sommelier approached with the wine he had chosen for lunch, and went through the ritual of tasting it, approving it with a curt assent. Then he continued. There was a slightly different tone to his voice as he spoke now. A smooth note had entered it, and Vicky felt it like a rich, dark emollient over her nerve-endings.

  ‘It must be hard for you,’ Theo Theakis said, as he contemplatively took a mouthful of the wine, setting back the glass on the table but never taking his eyes from her. ‘Staying with your uncle and appreciating, perhaps for the first time, just how very different your life would have been had your father not been of the philanthropic disposition that he so abundantly was. In the light of that, therefore, and in respect of the sum of money I alluded to, which in the event of a normal marriage would remain with me, I am prepared, since I am proposing a highly limited marriage, to release this sum to you on the dissolution of the marriage.’ His veiled gaze rested on her. ‘Additionally, I am willing to make you an advance on this sum at the outset of our temporary marriage. The figure I have in mind is this.’

  He named a sum of money that made Vicky swallow. It was about three times the amount of the grant that Jem had just failed to apply for.

  Her mind raced. With that money they could…

  She dragged her thoughts away from all the things that Freshstart could spend that kind of money on, and back to the man sitting opposite her, in his superbly tailored business suit, with his dark, sable hair and his opaque, unreadable eyes that nevertheless seemed to send a frisson through her that went right down to her bones.

  ‘Well?’

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

  ‘The final sum released to you when our marriage ends would be twice as much again,’ he said, into the silence.

  Twice as much?

  What we could do with such a sum!

  She stared, unseeing for a moment, ahead of her, oblivious even of the disturbing figure opposite her. What would her father have done? She could not remember him, but her mother had told her so much about him.

  ‘He gave away his inheritance to those who needed it. He didn’t think twice about it.’

  Her mother’s well-recalled words echoed in her head. She felt her throat tighten. What should she do? If she went ahead with this insane idea she could not only save her uncle’s company, but inject into her father’s charity a sum of money that would help so many children blighted by poverty and wrecked families…

  But I’d have to marry Theo Theakis…

  Slowly her eyes refocussed on the man sitting at the far side of the table. The familiar frisson went through her.

  If he were just an ordinary person I could do it…

  But he wasn’t—that was the problem. He was a man like no other she had ever encountered, and to whom she reacted as she had never done in her life before.

  It’s too dangerous…

  The words formed in her mind and etched into her brain cells.

  No—it didn’t have to be dangerous! In fact—she pressed her lips together determinedly—it was absurd to even think of that word. Absurd because it didn’t matter that she reacted so strongly to Theo Theakis. The point was that he was not reacting to her at all! It was all on her part, and if she just succeeded in keeping a totally tight lid on the way he affected her then she could just go ahead and…

  She inhaled sharply. Good God, was she really thinking what she was thinking? Was she really, seriously thinking that she could go ahead with this insane scheme? Surely to God she couldn’t be?

  Yet she could feel her mouth shaping words, hear them sounding low across the table, coming from somewhere she didn’t want to think about.

  ‘How long would we have to stay married?’

  The phone on her desk was ringing, and Vicky heard it from a long, long way away. Sucked down into the past. Painfully, she dragged her mind back to the present—the present in which frustration and bitter anger warred in equal proportions.

  ‘How long would we have to stay married?’

  The fateful question she had posed that day over lunch reverberated in her head. It had been the moment that she had mentally acceded to the idea of entering into the kind of marriage that Theo Theakis had outlined to her. She’d known that even at the time.

  And he’d started to cheat her from that very moment! Because the kind of marriage he’d outlined had been nothing, nothing like it had turned out to be!

  He cheated me right from the start—and he went on cheating me right to the end! The brutal, merciless end…

  Anger buckled through her again. Oh, Theo Theakis might have paid out upfront all right—the money he’d said was an advance on what he would make over to her when they were finally free to end their marriage—but as for the rest of it…

  It’s mine! He promised it to me—it’s not his to keep!

  He’s got no business hanging on to it! Just because I…

  The insistent ringing of the phone finally broke through her angry reverie. She snatched it up.

  ‘Yes?’ she said tersely.

  The voice that answered was accented, formal, and studied.

  ‘This is Demetrious Xanthou. I am aide to Theo Theakis. He has instructed me to inform you that he will receive you this evening. If you will be so good as to give me your address, I will arrange a car for 8:00 p.m.’

  For ten seconds Vicky went totally still. But the emotions that warred in her were not tranquil. Turmoil seethed in her. Haltingly, hardly able to concentrate, she gave her address. Then, hand shaking only very slightly, she set the phone down.

  She stared ahead blindly for a moment. Then her face set again, and a grim, ruthless expression entered her eyes.

  She was finally going to get her face-to-face with the man who had rent her limb from limb with his savage words. Well, she wouldn’t care about that now—she had one thing only in her sights.

  I want that money. It’s mine. I want it—and I need it.

  And I’m going to make him give it to me—whatever it takes!

  It was the only thought she was going to allow herself.

  Anything else was much, much too disturbing. Much too dangerous.

  Theo Theakis stood by the window of his London apartment, looking out over one of its most historic parks. His face was expressionless, but beneath the impassive exterior one emotion was uppermost.

  He rested his eyes on the woman in front of him.

  Unlike during her attempt to accost him the day before, she was dressed without the slightest effort to look the part today. It was deliberate; that much was obvious. Yesterday she had been playing the role of Theo Theakis—even though she no longer had the least right to that name, he thought, with a savage spurt of anger. Tonight she had chosen a different image. Jeans and a chainstore sweat top. Her hair was caught up in a ponytail, and she wore not a scrap of make up.

  His lips pressed together. She would not be wearing that outfit for him again—

  ‘Well?’

  The voice was curt, demanding. The line of his lips tightened. How dared she stand there, shameless and insolent, and speak to him in such a tone? His eyes darkened.

  ‘You wanted to talk to me. In fact, you were very expressive on the subject.’ His voice was clipped, and he didn’t bother to hide the note of sarcasm in it.
‘So,’ he invited, ‘talk.’

  He watched her eyes narrow. After all she’d done to him she still thought she had the right to call the shots. Take umbrage. Make demands.

  Well, she could make them all right—and she could pay the price, as well.

  ‘I want my money.’

  The bald, bare, shameless words fell from her. Theo felt his tightly controlled anger stab again.

  ‘Your money?’ He echoed her words, eyes spearing hers. ‘Your money? The law takes a different view—as you very well know. The settlement that Aristides drew up with me is very clear—the money is mine.’

  He could see fury leap in her face, and it gave him grim amusement. She spat back at him venomously.

  ‘You promised it to me! You told me it would be mine when the marriage ended! And now you’re cheating me of it!’

  Anger leapt into his face uncontrolled.

  ‘You dare accuse me of cheating?’

  Her expression contorted.

  ‘It’s my money! And you’re keeping it! What the hell else is it but cheating?’ she demanded furiously.

  Cold fire poured from him.

  ‘Christou, are you really so terminally stupid that you imagine I would have the slightest inclination to let you have that money? After what you did? You deserved nothing—and nothing is what you got!’ His voice changed, become harsh and deadly. ‘What else does an adulterous wife deserve?’

  CHAPTER FOUR