by Leslie North
“Why don’t you have a seat?” He pulled out a hand and waved to a chair.
“I don’t think so. Where’s Nick Stavos? I’m supposed to be meeting with him.” Her tone held a sharp demand.
“Well...about that—” Antonio watched the fire explode in her eyes.
“Is there even a documentary? A job for me?”
“There is. Stavos is filming.”
“But I can do the narration in post? He didn’t ask for me to come and narrate on scene.” She crossed her arms. “What the hell is this?”
“I need to discuss something with you. I could have gone through my lawyer or your agent, or by phone, but I...this was something I needed to do in person?”
She lifted her eyebrows. “You have ten minutes and then I walk.”
Antonio’s face heated. He forced himself to move, to stride over to the counter where a water pitcher sat with glasses. He poured one for himself and one for Claire—not that she would take that from him. No, she’d made it clear the last time they’d parted that she really wanted nothing from him.
“My father. He is dead.”
Her eyes softened a fraction—or he thought they did. “I’m sorry—not for him, but for you. I know you were close. Wasn’t that part of the problem?”
He ignored her words and said, “He left you a villa...here in Greece.”
Claire stared at him. “Why would he...? Why that manipulating bastard! After all the names he called me! Okay, what are the strings? Your dad always had conditions and strings and...and—”
“I think he was trying to make amends.”
“A little late for that. Well, I don’t want it.”
“Good, then you can sell it back to me. I’ll have my lawyer draw—”
“No, you don’t understand. I don’t want it, or anything to do with your family. Your father called me a gold digger, as well as a few other choice names. He tore me to shreds. And you stood there and let him. You made it clear we had our fun for a few days and we were done. And done is done. The villa can go to charity. There must be an orphanage that needs extra space, or a—”
“It’s not that easy.” Antonio let out a breath. Gesturing toward a chair, he told her, “Please, have a seat. Have some water. We really must discuss this.”
“No. Look, I’m here to do voice over work. If there’s no work, I’m gone.”
“There is work.” He turned and looked out the windows for a moment. He had known this would not be easy. But now, faced with Claire, he also knew he needed to make amends as well. His father had been the trouble maker between them, but Claire was right. He had also had a part to play. And now...now here he was doing what his father had tried to manipulate—because he must. He could curse his father, but he still had to act. He at least had that much honor in him. And he needed to keep his mother’s villa and her grave in the family.
Facing Claire again, he told her, “My father left you my mother’s villa—and his will requires me to marry. I think he wanted to force us to marry.”
Chapter Four
Claire’s mouth fell open. She snapped it closed. Now she wished she had taken that offer of a chair. She gripped the back of one. “You can’t be serious?”
“I am completely serious. My father passed away last month. Matthias was a hard man to get along with—you know that. But his will made it clear that he had something to make amends for, and he placed conditions upon me inheriting.”
“The condition being that you marry? Isn’t that a little too Victorian?” Claire asked, still trying to get over the shock of hearing that Matthias Rosso was dead. She remembered him as a man with a booming voice, a large presence, and a cutting tongue. He’d told her she would make his son an excellent whore, but never a wife. The words still stung. She shifted on her feet. Yeah, Matthias Rosso had a lot to make up for, but so did his son. She stared at Antonio.
He was still too damn attractive with that curly dark hair, those electric eyes, and a body made for sin. She’d been a kid at the time, and he’d been her first serious crush—one that had also shaped the rest of her life. She’d been wary of rich guys ever since, and determined to make her own money. And she had. She had a great career, enough money now to easily tell Antonio to go to hell...and it seemed she had a villa.
She’d never met Antonio’s mother—she’d been dead for years when Claire had first met Antonio. She skidded away from the memory of their first meeting.
Antonio cleared his throat. “My father requires me to marry to inherit.”
Claire shook her head and let out a breath. “So you’re still jumping when he snaps the whip? I could almost feel sorry for you if you weren’t just like your dad.”
His mouth hardened. “He also left you Villa Livia—my mother’s villa. I wish it returned. If I marry you, the villa comes back into the family, so it is clear that is what Matthias intended.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m not interested. As for the villa—give it to a good charity. In fact, I’ve been thinking of starting one, and maybe this is the perfect time to do just that.”
Antonio’s mouth flattened. She knew him well enough to know that her words had hit home with him. Well, good—it was about time he learned what it was like to be verbally beaten up and dumped on. Claire met his stare. “I guess you thought you could just snap your fingers and everyone around you would fall into line. Just like your dad.”
“I never dictated what you could do when we were together.”
“Together. We didn’t have enough time to be ‘together’.” She put air quotes around the word. “Your dad saw to that and I don’t recall you putting up much of a fuss about it.”
“How long are you going to hang onto what is past?”
“I don’t know—maybe forever.”
He stepped closer. She almost stepped back away from him. He loomed over her, but she didn’t want to give him any ground. She didn’t want to give him anything. She could smell his scent—something that had always been unique to him, a musky male aroma that set her heart pounding.
“You want to know why I let my father call you a whore? Why I didn’t argue? Pictures, my dear. Lots of pictures. My father handed them to me and I looked at you smiling and enjoying yourself in places where I had never taken you.”
“Your father was spying on me?” Claire asked incredulously.
“He hired a private investigator to check into your background. He was protecting the family.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “More like controlling his family. He didn’t think I was good enough—not rich enough. But now...you never got married to the girl he picked out for you, and so now he’s stuck with having to throw me your way again.”
Color stained Antonio’s cheeks. “I don’t know why Matthias did most of what he did. But...I’m prepared to pay you to get the villa back.”
“With what?” Claire smiled. She was starting to enjoy this. For once, she had the upper hand over the Rosso family. They’d treated her like dirt—well, now they could just treat her a little better. And get a lesson in kindness. “You don’t inherit until you marry—that’s what you said, Antonio. So either you have to find a girl really quick—and I bet you just love that idea—or you have no money to buy back your mother’s villa. That is...if I want to sell.”
Antonio brushed aside her words with a wave of his hand. “I’ve already spoken to my lawyers, and since the will doesn’t stipulate any time limit for how long the marriage must last, we will be able to divorce after one month.”
“So you plan to dump me after a month?” Claire asked with a raised brow.
“That is the length of time the marriage needs to last in order for it to be considered a legally binding marriage under Greek law.”
She threw her hands out wide. “Why on earth would you think I would agree to something like this?”
“I’ve already agreed to make it worth your while...”
“Meaning after you marry me, you’re rich enough to
buy me off. You really think you can buy anything, don’t you? Well, Mr. Rosso, you can’t buy me! And I’ll let you know what I decide to do with the villa I own now.”
Turning, she strode out, her pulse fast and uneven and tears stinging her eyes. God, did she hate that man!
Claire stepped into the lobby and gulped down a breath. She grabbed her luggage from behind the reception desk and headed out the front door. The receptionist and the security guard just watched her. Outside, she glanced around. She had to be only a few miles from the downtown area. She could walk there and hail a cab and return to the airport.
Pulling her cell phone from her purse she dialed Brenna. When she heard Brenna’s voice, the words poured out. “Brenna, it was horrible. There is no voiceover job. Aegis Studios belong to Antonio Rosso. And he expects me to marry him!”
“What? Wait! Back up! Antonio Rosso is Aegis Studios?”
“Yes! And there is no job! Well, there is, but it’s typical narration in post. I don’t need to be here and Nick Stavos didn’t ask me to come to Greece to do the voiceover on site.”
“Okay...well, that sucks but...wait, did you say something about marrying someone?”
Claire started walking and poured out the story in halting, disjointed sentences. She’d started to wonder if she’d lost the call, but when she stopped to pull in a breath, Brenna’s voice came over the line. “Damn, girl. You seem to have a knack for complicating your life.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. To make matters worse, he’s not only still a jerk, he still...still—”
“Smokin’ hot?”
“It’s no wonder I’ve become a serial dater. The man defines the Greek-god type. I swear, sometimes I’m worried that he ruined me for any mere mortals!”
“You didn’t let him know that, did you?”
Claire gave a snort. “I was pretty mad and didn’t really try to hide it. I told him to pretty much stuff it. Oh, and seems I’ve inherited a villa.”
“What! Now that’s great news. A villa in Greece. Honey, you’ve got your vacation home now.”
“No...it’s going to a charity. Brenna, I need you to find me a good charity. Something for kids, maybe. Or other strays. Maybe kids and strays both.”
Brenna gave a laugh. “If you’re going to set up a charity in Greece, you’re going to have to stay there and sort that out. There’s going to be papers to sign.” Claire gave a groan. Brenna’s voice came back cheerful as ever. “Besides, it’ll give you a chance to stick his royal jerkness with some payback. Maybe you can work him out of your system.”
“Brenna! Are you serious? He offered me money to marry him!”
“Really? How much? As your agent, I can negotiate, but I’m taking my ten percent.”
Shaking her head, Claire stopped at a street corner. “I’m not doing it. I am not helping that...that...”
“Royal jerk?”
“Brenna, I know you mean well, but I’m not like you. I can’t stick around, sleep with him a few times, and then move on. I’m not wired that way. I’m coming home as soon as I can.”
“Claire, this is Brenna James, your agent talking. Get the legal stuff done first. You’re there. You’ve got a villa to sort out. Don’t leave that hanging or you know it’s going to be bugging you. And you’re going to be okay. Get yourself checked into the hotel—remember Aegis Studios is footing the bill—”
“I don’t want to take anything from any Rosso!”
“Stop thinking like that and start thinking about sticking a few bills where Rosso has to pay them. You want to simmer down and think this thing through. Okay? Okay. I’ll start hunting up some charities that actually do some good—there’s got to be a site that reviews charities, right? You get some rest and some food and we’ll talk soon. That sound like a good plan? Can do?”
“Okay. Can do. At least the hotel and sleep part.” Claire disconnected the call. She glanced around. She had no idea where she was—but she needed traffic and a taxi.
Just as she thought that, a car pulled up next to her. She glanced at it and saw Antonio in the driver’s seat. She faced him. “Go away and leave me alone!”
“Leave you walking the streets of Athens? Get in.” Leaning over, he opened the passenger door.
Claire stiffened. “Quit telling me what to do.”
“Please...come with me. Please? I can’t leave you wandering around. At least let me take you to your hotel?”
Chapter Five
Antonio decided it was going to take more to convince Claire to get into his car. He got out and leaned on the BMW’s roof. “Look, our meeting didn’t go well earlier. But I couldn’t stand knowing you were on your own on the streets of Athens. It’s not really a safe place. Come with me. Or at the least let me buy you lunch and if you still insist you can’t stand the sight of me, I will call you a taxi.”
Her shoulders slumped. Her stare also darted to a nearby bistro. The smells coming from the place of roasting lamb and garlic were enough to get his stomach rumbling, too.
“Well, maybe just a soda.”
“Good.” He came around and took her luggage from her. Their fingers brushed and Claire almost jumped. Ah, so she wasn’t as immune to him as she had pretended. Perhaps he had other ways to convince her to do as he wished.
Taking her luggage, he put it in the trunk. He took Claire’s hand.
She waved at his car. “What about...?”
He tossed the keys to a waiter in the bistro. “Park it for me.” He let go of Claire’s hand, peeled off a generous tip for the waiter and then put his hand on the small of Claire’s back to guide her to a table at the back.
“I feel more like my luggage.”
He held out her chair for her. “You’re not in the trunk.”
She sat, her purse on her lap, and glared at him. He smile and took the seat opposite her. “Relax. I don’t bite. Not like Matthias. Now, what would you like to eat?”
She gave a shrug. But she also lifted her face, as if scenting the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.
Antonio thought about arguing with her and decided it wasn’t worth the fight that would likely ensue. Taking matters into his own hand, he ordered them both salad, a bowl of the fasolada—a bean soup—a lamb moussaka, and galaktoboureko—custard in phyllo pastry—for dessert, and a good red wine. He was sure she wouldn’t be able to follow his Greek. Leaning his elbows on the table, he asked, “How was your flight?”
Claire looked at him, head tipped to the side. He was not sure he liked her hair so long—he remembered it curling in his fingers, soft and fine. She put her purse on the floor. “Fine. My flight was fine.”
“Good. And your family? How are they? Your parents love to travel, do I remember that right?”
“They’re good. In Africa on a safari and mission.”
“Mission? Ah, still doing their good works?”
“Yeah, well, they also want to see as much of the world as they can while they can. Are we going to try and do small talk?”
Antonio shrugged. Her green eyes lit when she talked about her parents, and a smile played around her lush lips. But he was not about to forget that she had something he wanted now—his mother’s villa.
“The smaller the talk, the safer it seems.”
The wine came. Claire twisted her glass but didn’t drink. “If we’re doing that, then, how are your sisters? You have two—right?”
“Alexandra finished university last year and is still trying to decide what to do next. Eva begins university in the fall. Growing up with Matthias for a father, how could they be anything but strong. They...they feel his death more than I, I think.
The waitress arrived with tzatziki, a cucumber and yoghurt salad. She smiled at Antonio and he smiled back. Claire narrowed her gaze and asked, “You can’t help it, can you? Why don’t you marry her?”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t help but have women flirt with you wherever you go, can you?”
Antonio looked
at her for a moment and shook his head. “She’s is just a waitress.”
“Ah...just a regular person. Why didn’t you marry that wealthy heiress your dad must have picked for you?” Claire asked.
Antonio picked up his wine and took a gulp. “Matthias and I did not agree on many things.”
“But you agreed about me. You know, looking back on it, I don’t know what you ever saw in me. I mean, I’m not a super model. I’m not a superstar. I don’t have some amazing trust fund that allows me to jet around the world and party every night of the week.”
“Claire, stop it. Can’t we—”
“Forget the past? Your father hated me. Or that’s how it seemed. But he left me something that matters to you. Why? Because he was facing death? He knew he’d lost control of you, so he was giving in? Or was he really just setting up the ultimate control? Shoving me back at you as one last screw you to the son who wouldn’t do what he wanted?”
The food arrived, but Antonio suddenly couldn’t stand the smell of the lamb. He pushed away his plate. He wanted to defend his late father, but unfortunately, Matthias’s track record didn’t give him any room to argue with Claire’s thinking. His father had been a controlling man his entire life, and he hadn’t liked the idea of Antonio married to a poor American student. He’d done everything to break Antonio’s trust in her—and he had succeeded.
Was it too late to begin again?
He leaned forward. Claire was picking at her food. “How about we declare a truce on this issue? I don’t want to sit here and throw accusations at each other.”
“Fine.” Claire finished eating and threw her napkin on the table. The waitress swept away the plates and brought dessert. Claire took a bite and closed her eyes. “I have to say, Athens really knows how to do dessert right.”
“Tell me about your career. You did an animated film last year, did you not, that did very well at the box office.”