A Bride at His Bidding

by Michelle Smart

  ‘You’ve only just eaten so try not to get a stitch while you’re swimming,’ she called out, forcing strength into her voice. ‘It would be dreadful if you were to drown before we marry.’

  He turned but didn’t stop walking, surefooted even as he trod backwards. ‘But it would mean you having to give me the kiss of life so it would be an excellent way to meet my maker.’

  Then he winked and hardly broke stride to turn around again.

  Carrie put a hand to her chest, her heart thumping hard against it, watching the long, muscular legs walk away from her.

  Once he was out of sight, she took some deep breaths and closed her eyes.

  It would all feel different when she was back on home soil.

  It had to.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE ELEGANT FIGURE stepped out of the revolving doors with an older woman a pace behind her, the two women chatting between themselves.

  The older woman was the first to spot him standing against a black Bentley watching them. She nudged Carrie and nodded in his direction.

  He raised a hand in greeting.

  Carrie’s eyes found his. Even with the distance separating them Andreas could see the high colour slashing her cheeks as she mimicked his greeting, then used the same hand to smooth a loose strand of hair that had fallen from the knot it had been tied into off her face, then to smooth her long cream overcoat. Her movements were rapid but her colleague noticed, a smile spreading on her face as she watched Carrie subconsciously groom herself.

  After a beat, Carrie said something to her colleague, then walked steadily to him, chin aloft, her right hand clutching the strap of her handbag to her chest.

  ‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ she said when she reached him, speaking in a voice loud enough that those of her nearby colleagues, all hurrying to the nearby underground station in their eagerness to get home, would be able to hear. The inflection of surprise she put in it was a masterstroke.

  Andreas had been waiting by his car for twenty minutes. He estimated a dozen of the people who had come out of the building that housed the Daily Times had done a double take at his presence outside their offices.

  He gave a slow smile, feasting his eyes on the face that had consumed his thoughts all day. The wind picked up the strand of hair she’d only just smoothed down and he reached out to tuck it behind her delicate ear.

  Her already coloured cheeks went a few shades darker, and her throat moved.

  ‘I have been thinking of you all day,’ he murmured for her ears only, delighting at the way her eyes pulsed at his words.

  He’d dreamed about her again. She’d been the first thing on his mind when his eyes had opened that morning. By lunchtime he’d taken to checking his watch every few minutes, the time ticking down until their prearranged meeting outside her work offices slowing to a lethargic snail’s pace. He assured himself this restlessness, this yearning to see her again was due to his impatience to get the ball rolling in the fake relationship they were about to establish. He desired Carrie but more than anything his desire was to protect his business from the lies she had told her zealous colleagues about him.

  In a clearer tone that anyone passing would hear he added, ‘I know it must sound crazy but I was hoping you would let me take you out for dinner.’

  She swallowed, her eyes pulsing again before she blinked it away. ‘That sounds totally crazy but...that would be lovely.’

  ‘Excellent. Can I give you a lift home?’

  ‘If it’s not out of your way.’

  ‘I wouldn’t care if it was.’ He grinned then opened the back door for her and followed her in.

  The moment the door closed them in, her demeanour changed. Carrie perched herself rigidly beside him, knees tucked tightly together, hands clasped on her lap.

  Once they were moving in the heavy London traffic, she said in a clipped voice, ‘That must have been difficult for you, having to ask politely rather than just bark orders at me.’

  ‘It was a nightmare. I’m used to people asking how high when I tell them to jump,’ he replied drolly. ‘How did it go today?’

  She rested her head back on the leather seat and closed her eyes. ‘We had a meeting about you. I said my tip-off had been wrong and that the person who gave it to me is refusing to answer my calls.’

  ‘And that sounds plausible?’

  ‘I’ve made it sound like my source is avoiding me. I’ll give it a few days and say I met up with him and that he confessed he’d made it up for money.’

  ‘And does that sound plausible?’ He watched her response closely, looking for signs of an untruth or the bending of facts.

  ‘It’s not uncommon. We do pay for tips that are verified and lead to a story being printed, but it doesn’t happen much. Most of the people who give us tip-offs do it because it’s the right thing to do—we’re not a tabloid, we deal with weighty stories that are often in the national interest.’

  ‘Will they want to check with your source?’

  ‘Our sources are sacrosanct. We never reveal them without the source’s permission, not even to each other.’ Carrie rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. Her colleagues had seemingly taken her story at face value—Andreas’s instincts had been proven right in that regard—but the cramped feeling of guilt had spread its way inside her and through to her muscles.

  It nauseated her to think of all the barefaced lies she had told her colleagues in recent weeks. When she’d embarked on the single-minded task of bringing Andreas down, she’d been so certain of his guilt and so filled with anger at what he’d done to her sister that she had smothered her own screaming conscience. Now she was lying to her supportive colleagues for a second time but what else could she do? If she didn’t go ahead with Andreas’s plan then her sister’s name would be dragged into the world’s consciousness and whatever recovery she’d made would be destroyed. Violet would be back on the drugs quicker than a wannabe vegetarian lion passing by a wounded gazelle; unable to resist.

  ‘How did you explain my learning your true identity?’ Andreas asked.

  She could happily scream. She’d had almost a whole day away from him but he’d been breaking into her thoughts the whole time. She might as well have taken him to work with her. Her morning had been devoted to talking about him in the staff meeting, her afternoon fielding female colleagues’ whispered questions about what he was really like, if he was as handsome in the flesh as in pictures...

  Every time she’d been asked her cheeks had flushed. It had been excruciating. Half the office thought she had a crush on him without her having to say a word.

  Andreas would be delighted if she told him, which of course she would not.

  Instead, she told him in as cool a voice as she could muster—anything to counteract the skipping warmth being back with him was inducing, ‘I said your PA had learned my references didn’t check out after all—at least that wasn’t a lie—and that by the time this was discovered, I was already convinced of your innocence. Exactly as we agreed.’

  She felt him relax beside her, pressing his own head back against the seat and facing her. She kept her eyes facing forward, not looking at him.

  He inched his face a little closer to her. ‘You didn’t like lying to your colleagues, did you?’

  How could he read her so damn well? He barely knew her.

  Her throat caught. ‘I hate it,’ she muttered. ‘Lying on an investigation is never real because I always know I’m getting the facts needed to expose corrupt and illegal practices. This is very different.’ She turned her head to meet his gaze. ‘You know I’m only going along with this to protect Violet, don’t you? If it was just my own future at stake I would let you throw me to the wolves.’

  He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone lazily but there was an intensity in his stare. ‘She is lucky to inspire such devotion.’

  Carrie grabbed his hand, intending to push it off her face but instead wrapped her fingers around it tightly and st
ared back with matching concentration to his. ‘Do we have to do this...this marriage thing?’ she asked on impulse. ‘My colleagues all believe I made a mistake. I’ve convinced them there’s nothing worth investigating about you.’

  His light brown eyes continued to ring into hers for a long time before he answered. There was none of the usual staccato beat to his voice, his tone slow and thoughtful. ‘A good reputation takes years to build but can be knocked down in minutes by nothing more than careless words. Do you know what happened to my parents’ business?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘They owned their own water taxi company. Do you know what that is?’

  ‘Like a regular taxi firm but on water?’

  He nodded. His face had inched so close to hers she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

  A voice in her head warned her to shift away from him, not allow him to get any closer.

  Carefully she released her hold on his hand but his eyes...

  This was why she tried to avoid looking into them.

  It was as if he were hypnotising her.

  ‘They took tourists and locals island hopping or from one side of the island to another. They also had a handful of larger boats they chartered out for daytrips through the holiday companies. It was a good living for them.’ His lips tightened, the mesmerising eyes darkening. ‘When I was in my final year at university a rival company set itself up. These rivals were predators. They sabotaged my parents’ fleet. One of the charter boats sank; it’s a miracle none of the passengers were killed. Then rumours were spread that they knowingly employed paedophiles—can you imagine the impact that had on an island built for families? People stopped using their taxis, the holiday companies cancelled their contracts...in months the business they had spent their whole marriage building was in ruins.’

  Chills raced up Carrie’s spine. ‘That’s...horrific. What did your parents do?’

  He grimaced and rolled his face away from hers. ‘They tried to fight but did not have the resources. They had used all their savings to get me through university. I went on a scholarship but they paid for all my accommodation, flights back home for holidays... I thought they could afford it. If I had known they were putting themselves in such a precarious financial situation I would have worked more hours to support myself...’ He cut himself off and shook his head before straightening in his seat.

  His gaze fixed on the screen separating them from his driver, he continued, ‘It is done. I cannot change what they did or what I did. I didn’t go home at all in that last year. There was too much going on in my life. Studying. Girls. Parties. Too busy to call home and only listening with one ear when we did speak. I didn’t have a clue what was happening with them. They didn’t want to worry me and made my sister promise not to tell me. I learned the truth when I graduated.’

  ‘Would you have been able to do anything if you had known?’

  His jaw clenched before he answered. ‘If they had told me when it first started I might have been able to scare their rivals off. I could have at least shared the burden with them. Once I did know, I helped as much as I could. Their financial situation was an incentive for me to work all hours so I could support them through it and pay for lawyers who were able to take the case to court. To prove the allegations wrong and prove that their rivals deliberately sabotaged their business. It took four years to get there but they went to prison for it.’

  ‘Good,’ she stated vehemently.

  He turned his face to look at her. A faint smile appeared on his lips. ‘I should have guessed that what happened to my parents would make you angry. You are a one-woman crusader against injustice.’

  ‘I’m surprised I didn’t already know about it.’ She swallowed before giving a small, apologetic smile. ‘I did a lot of research on you.’

  His low laugh showed his lack of surprise at her confession. ‘The press coverage was minimal and all in Greek. My name wouldn’t have been in any of the reports—it all happened before I became well known.’

  ‘How are your parents now?’

  ‘In a good place, thank God, but it took them a long time to recover. The whole thing did not just affect their finances but everything else too. Their reputations and health were ruined. Friends, neighbours, people who knew them well, all shunned them. By the time it went to court what mattered most to them was having their reputations restored. It was a bitter thing for them to accept, that people believed them capable of knowingly employing child abusers. My mother has since fought two different forms of cancer and my father has had a quadruple heart bypass. Losing Tanya almost finished them off.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her heart twisted for this couple she had never met who had been through so much pain and heartache.

  And Andreas had lost his sister.

  Carrie knew what the pain of loss felt like. Her mother had been dead for seven years now but there were still times when grief caught her; a song playing on the radio, seeing her shampoo on a supermarket shelf, little things that could poleaxe her.

  She felt her heart wrench to imagine all the little things that could poleaxe Andreas with grief too.

  When he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips she didn’t snatch it away.

  ‘It does not take a lot to destroy a reputation and a business,’ he said sombrely as he brushed his lips over her fingertips. ‘I will not take the risk of assuming the damage can be prevented with some carefully chosen words. Even a whisper of embezzlement could cause irreparable harm to my name and then who can say what the repercussions would be? Marrying you, the woman who started the whispers, is the best way to kill it.’

  Her hand tingled, her fingers itching to open up and explore his face and touch all the hard, masculine features her eyes could not help but drink in...

  ‘We are here.’

  Blood roared so hard in her ears his softly delivered words sounded distant. ‘What?’

  ‘Your home. We have arrived. Are you going to invite me in?’

  Coming to her senses with a jolt, Carrie snatched her hand from his and jerked back, then fumbled with the door handle, her sudden desperation for air that wasn’t filled with his scent making her all fingers and thumbs. Before she could break the handle off, the driver appeared and opened it for her.

  She practically threw herself out of the car. The cold drizzle was a welcome relief on her flushed skin.

  ‘Carrie?’

  She dragged the fresh air into her lungs before looking back at him. ‘Yes?’

  His eyes were alive with amusement, as if he knew exactly what had got her so flustered.

  He probably did know. He seemed to be able to read her like a book.

  ‘Tomorrow, we book our wedding.’

  She shrugged, pretending a nonchalance she absolutely did not feel.

  ‘And you need to book leave from your work.’

  ‘I can hardly marry you if I’m in the office.’

  He grinned. ‘I meant for my cousin’s wedding. It’s being held in Agon, an island near Crete. We’ll fly over at the weekend.’

  ‘But the wedding’s not for a fortnight.’

  ‘We can spend the week before it there. I’m already bored of the English rain.’

  ‘I can’t just take a week off at this short notice.’ She’d thought they would spend the weeks leading up to their marriage in London, in her home territory, where she was safe...

  She hadn’t been safe in the back of his car.

  The cold English drizzle had proved no barrier to her ever-growing awareness of him.

  ‘Tell them I’ve agreed to an exclusive interview with you.’ His lively eyes carried steel in them, clearly saying, You will do exactly as you are told or our deal is off.

  He had her exactly where he wanted her and he knew it.

  ‘Fine. But you’ll have to actually give me an exclusive interview in exchange.’

  Now his eyes gleamed with more than mere amusement. ‘There are many exclusive things I can give y
ou, matia mou. An interview is just one of them.’

  The gleam deepened, his suggestive words hanging in the air between them for what felt like a whole epoch before she got her vocal cords to work, her cheeks flaming like a bonfire. ‘I’ll book the time off.’

  A knowing smile played on his lips. ‘I will pick you up in two hours.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I am taking you out to dinner, matia mou.’ The smile turned into the wickedest of grins. ‘Unless you wish to invite me into your home and cook for me?’

  ‘Hell will freeze over before I lift a finger for you again.’

  He gave an ironic shake of his head at her defensiveness. ‘It is funny how your mouth tells me one thing but your eyes and body the other.’

  It was with great delight that she slammed the car door in his face.

  When her front door was closed and locked for good measure she stood with her back against it, trying to breathe properly.

  Being on home soil hadn’t changed a thing.

  * * *

  The knock on the front door Carrie had been anticipating for the past ten minutes still made her jump and set her already skittish heart thrumming maniacally.

  She took one last look in the mirror and smoothed her hair, then breathed deeply as she walked down the stairs. Her shoes were ready by the front door and she slid her feet into them and removed her coat from the hook before she opened it.

  After a mere five days in London it was time to get her passport out again.

  Andreas stood at the threshold, dressed in a sharp navy suit with an open-necked white shirt, that wicked, wolfish grin on his face. ‘Good morning, matia mou. You look as beautiful as ever.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Cut the cheesy lines, there’s no one to hear you.’

  Over the past five days they’d been on four ‘dates’, all in restaurants where the paparazzi liked to camp out. As he was a man who had always kept his private life discreet, the paparazzi responded to Andreas’s presence as if he were Father Christmas bearing early gifts.