Greek Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride (The Rosso Family Series, #1)

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Greek Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride (The Rosso Family Series, #1) Page 4

by Leslie North


  His sisters’ trusts should remain sound, but Antonio knew he would feel better once he had control over the Rosso estate and the banking empire his father and grandfather had built. Hell, Greece needed that empire sound and functional just now. His father had been wise and had diversified and expanded his interests, which put the Rosso family in a good position to now help others.

  But in order to do anything, he needed a wife first. And he found it difficult to think of marrying anyone other than Claire—she would certainly keep to any agreement he made with her.

  Leaning over, he placed a kiss upon her forehead, and then headed to his downstairs office.

  He placed a call to his secretary, promising her a bonus if she came through for him. He wanted a list of every recording studio in or around Athens that sold state of the art equipment—Aegis Studios must own or work with one or two of them. He would give Claire access to anything she needed to keep her career going for the next month—after all, she was supposed to spend the next month narrating a documentary. He would make certain she could do that here in Greece.

  He also placed a call to his friend, Dareios Anaganos.

  “Tonio? What’s up?” Dareios said.

  He sounded a little drunk, so Antonio said, “Please tell me you aren’t at a party?” The only thing Dareios liked more than fun was fun with girls. Antonio heard a giggle in the background.

  “Okay, I won’t tell you. What’s up? I heard you were at the studio today.”

  “Word gets around fast.”

  “Hey, you were crazy enough to make me CEO—I have to earn my salary doing something. Have you given any more thought to the idea of branching into the music industry? I’ve got a proposal almost put together.”

  “Meaning you’ve been thinking and haven’t put anything on paper.”

  Another giggle sounded in the background, and Dareios said, “That’s what secretaries are for.”

  “Dareios, are you sleeping with the staff?” Antonio had roomed with Dareios when they’d been at Cambridge together. He knew all too well just how much Dareios liked the opposite sex.

  “I wouldn’t tell you if I was. But let me ask you something—are you sleeping with Claire Bennett now that she’s back?”

  Antonio let out a sharp breath. “You have heard all the gossip.”

  “And then some. But why? I thought she was the last person on earth you ever wanted to see.”

  “Remember how I told you how I had a plan to meet the conditions of my father’s will?”

  “What—you’re going to marry. Claire? Who’s the crazy one—you or her?”

  “I don’t want to ask anyone else.”

  Dareios gave a laugh. “So when do I stand up as best man?”

  “I have to convince Claire first.”

  “Have to—? Tonio, where is that legendary Rosso charm? And what is Claire like now she is all grown? Is she blonde and beautiful?”

  “She’s ugly with a wart on her nose and weights five hundred pounds.”

  Dareios laughed again. “You, my friend, are in too deep if you’re trying to warn me off your turf. Take my advice and keep everything all business. Your father might have meddled, but I’d hate to see you get hurt needlessly.”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  “But no thanks? What else do you need?”

  “Claire mentioned something about a project she has coming up—a sequel to a movie she did last year or so. She should be free for a month, but I want to be certain. I need you to make some calls. Find out the schedule. And if you need to, delay the director—tempt him away with another project for Aegis Studios. Just buy me a month with Claire. I also need you to set up a recording studio here at the house. I have Sylvia looking for equipment—buy whatever you need.”

  “Oh, that should be easy—delay a major animated film that is if it’s supposed to start soon and build a recording studio as if by magic. Anything else? Do out the Augean stable maybe?”

  “Stop bitching, Hercules.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll call in some favors—lots of them. And then when I ask a favor of you I expect you to listen.”

  Antonio hung up. He sat at his desk, rubbing his lower lip. He would marry Claire. He would see to it she spent a month surrounded by luxury and anything she could even think of wanting. Then they would file for divorce and resume their own lives. It all seemed perfectly reasonable—so why wasn’t he happier about his plan?

  Chapter Eight

  Claire woke feeling more refreshed than she’d felt in a long time. She rolled over and realized she wasn’t under the covers. Details of the evening before—dinner with Antonio and him watching her like he wanted to dine more on her, not the food—came back and her skin warmed. She pushed up, trying not to think about vague memories of Antonio’s arms around her, so very strong and holding her as if she was precious to him.

  She touched her dress, relieved that it was still on—even if it was wrinkled. She slid from the bed, stretched and rolled her head to loosen her neck muscles. She actually felt wonderful—which was a strange since she’d flown halfway around the world yesterday. Throwing a glance at the clock, she was shocked to see it was almost eleven in the morning. So much for trying to get onto local time right away.

  Heading to the bathroom, she dug her cosmetic bag from one of the drawers. The bathroom had everything—double sinks, great mirrors, adjustable lights, a shower with jets on the side and top, and a whirlpool tub surrounded by windows that looked out onto the garden. The tub practically begged her to jump in, but that would take too long.

  She turned her back on the tub, ignoring her desire to spend the next three hours soaking. Stripping down, she stepped into the shower. Hot water washed away the remnants of sleep.

  She didn’t dawdle, but the pounding water had her thinking of Antonio’s fingers running over her skin. She dragged the soaped sponge across her breasts—and thought of how Antonio had once put his mouth on her. Her nipples hardened. Arousal spiked through her. Dammit, she had never been good at controlling her response to Antonio, and it seemed that hadn’t changed.

  She washed her hair, shut off the water, dried off, pulled on her bra and panties, and donned a pair of worn jeans and her favorite pale pink T-shirt. It was one her parents had brought her back from Hawaii and was almost threadbare it had been washed so much, but she loved it.

  She looked at herself in the mirror and opted to leave her hair down and let it dry in the warm air. Heading to the balcony, she threw open the French doors. The day seemed perfect—warm sun, a cool breeze. Leaning on the rough balcony railing, she breathed in, and tried to figure out what came next.

  She owned a villa it seemed. Should she ask to see it? No—that wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t plan to keep it, and if she saw it and fell in love, parting with it would be impossible. And what about Antonio’s offer of marriage? That was just crazy—wasn’t it? Remembering last night’s kiss, she brushed her fingertips over her lips. It was time to face the truth—she still had it bad for Antonio. But she wasn’t about to just forgive him for acting like a jerk years ago—and she wasn’t going to let him get away with thinking he could boss her around.

  She dabbed on some clear lip gloss, drew a thin line of grey eyeliner across her lids, and then lightly dusted her eyelids with eye shadow. She wasn’t going to think of it as war paint—more like a shield.

  Heading downstairs, the smell of cooking—spices and something sweet—drew her down the hall and toward the kitchen. Gaia stood at the stove, singing softly under her breath. She glanced up and smiled. “Kalimera, Claire, did you sleep well? Breakfast is ready to be served in the family dining room.”

  Recognizing the common greeting for good morning, Claire nodded back and glanced around the kitchen—which was huge and state of the art. “Breakfast? I thought I’d barely be in time for lunch. Have you seen Antonio this morning?”

  “He’s in his office. Coffee or do you prefer tea?”

  “Tea would b
e great. Green tea if you have it.”

  “But of course we do. And the bougatsa—the pastry—is still warm from this morning. Do you like eggs or fruit? And siglino? That’s smoked pork.” Gaia handed her a mug.

  Claire shook her head. “Just tea is fine.”

  Gaia frowned. “I bring you fruit and bougatsa. Now go and sit.” She shooed Claire out the door to the dining room.

  Resigning herself to being waited on, Claire sat at the table. The room was formal, the table polished and fresh flowers set in centerpieces. Claire sipped her tea and tried to figure out if she could call Brenna—was it late in the day or early in New York.

  “Kalimera.”

  The deep voice had Claire jumping and she spilled her tea. She wiped it off the table and looked up to see Antonio grinning at her. She frowned at him. “I thought you had work to do.”

  He sat down in the chair next to her. “Some of us have already put in a full day of work.”

  Gaia came in with a bowl of fresh fruit and a pastry on a plate—more cream filling and flaky phyllo crust. Claire wondered if she was going to gain ten pounds with all this great food. Gaia put down the food and folded her hands in front of her. “Antonio, do you eat? Or is it just more coffee?”

  Smiling, Antonio turned to Gaia. “Coffee, of course.”

  “You’re too skinny. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day—and what do you eat? Coffee. That is not eating.”

  Claire hid a smile. Antonio was actually looking a little pink around the tips of his ears. “Now, Gaia—”

  “Now, Gaia, what?” The older woman put her hands on her hips. “I bring you some siglino at the least. Just to hold you until lunch.” She left them, and Claire giggled.

  “What?” he demanded and turned to her.

  “It’s kind of nice to watch you get ordered around a little. By the way, where are your sisters? Do I get to meet them?” They’d both been at school when she’d met Antonio years ago—and then there had been that horrible conversation with Matthias.

  Antonio smiled at her. “You will. Later.”

  “I’m not sure there’s going to be much of a later. I should head home.”

  “Why? You were planning to be in Greece were you not?”

  She stiffened. “For a job.”

  “And the job is still here. I’ve made arrangements for you to meet with Nick Stavos later—and there’s a recording studio in Athens that Aegis Studios uses. But I’m also setting up one here for you. You can work with Nick while we sort out other matters.”

  She opened her mouth to complain, but she wasn’t sure what she could complain about. She had come here to do a narration and if Nick Stavos really was doing a documentary, she had a contract with him. Before she could say anything, a maid knocked on the door, and a young man stepped in. Claire recognized Dareios Anaganos at once.

  Back when she’d first met Antonio, Dareios had hung around, more like a second brother to Antonio than anything else.

  Dareios headed over to her, smiling. His golden-brown hair curled around a very tan face, and his blue eyes sparkling as if he always had a joke in mind. “Tonio, here you are. Kalimera, Claire. Please tell me you remember me or you will break my heart with your forgetting.” He swept up Claire’s hand and kissed the back.

  Shaking her head, she pulled her hand away. “How could I forget you—and you’re the one always breaking hearts if I remember right.”

  Antonio frowned, but Dareios laughed. “Only because I could not wake to your beautiful face every morning, Claire. I must make do with a thousand other faces, and not one of them is yours!”

  She had to smile—Dareios hadn’t changed at all. He was a little thinner than Antonio—his body more that of a swimmer—and he had far too much charm. Why were all the best looking guys in Greece? She was more than happy to flirt with him. She popped a grape in her mouth and asked, “Dareios, what are you up to these days? And there must be more than one beautiful woman involved.”

  “Koukla, for your information, I’m a reformed man.”

  Claire shook her head. “I am not your doll.”

  Antonio stood. “No, you are not. Dareios, do you want coffee?”

  He sounded harsh, and Claire looked at Antonio from beneath her lashes. She could see the pulse jump in his jaw. Well, well, so she wasn’t the only one still troubled by their old attraction. It would be good for Antonio to see she wasn’t anyone’s koukla to be tossed around like a plaything.

  She glanced at Dareios. “Are you here to drag Antonio off with you to some party?”

  “I wish. I work for this slave driver now—at Aegis Studios. A job is a terrible thing, I tell you. And now I’m going to go pester Gaia for I see she has made fresh bougatsa and I am a starving man. Antonio, come find me when you are ready to talk business.”

  Dareios headed out, and Claire glanced at Antonio. “So you have Dareios working for you. Is Aegis Studios party central, or is it a real business?”

  “Oh, it is real. We do mostly films, made here in Greece. Nick Stavos was thrilled when we said we were interested in distributing his film—documentaries usually have trouble with that.”

  Claire narrowed her eyes, braced her elbow on the table, and put her chin in her palm. “If Nick doesn’t need me on location, I could be back in New York and picking up other work. I can do his narration in post—much later.”

  “You have a studio here and waiting for you. You can make demo tapes or whatever else you need to do to keep your career going. And you can work with Nick—just as you came here to do.”

  “You’re trying to make that crazy proposal seem not so crazy, aren’t you?”

  “It’s not that crazy, Claire. People marry for many reasons.”

  “Usually love is involved.”

  Frowning, he stared at her. He touched a finger to the back of her hand. “And do you really want that? All that craziness, all that turmoil. We had that once.”

  Claire shook her head. “No, I thought...well, hell, I thought we were in love. Now, I’m thinking it was more like...well, we were kids. And I’m not sure we’re really any good for each other. Your father was probably right about that.”

  Antonio smiled. “Which is why we marry and then divorce. You end up with enough money to start that charity you mentioned you wanted. And you will never have the burden of having to work just for money—you can choose only the projects you love.”

  “And you get...your mother’s villa and your dad’s estate? Is that all you really want out of life?”

  He took her hand in his. “I want this to work—for both of us.”

  “Antonio, that’s a very nice thought, but—”

  “But what? You were planning to be in Greece for the next month to work. Well, you can still do that. You can also tour the islands if you wish. Or you can work as you intended. This world is yours to command. And why is marrying me so bad?”

  He still had hold of her hand. She glanced down. He had beautiful hands—long, sculpted fingers, strong wrists, and polished nails. She looked up at him. “You’re removing every obstacle I can come up with. But I still can’t stay here—not here...with you.” She knew her objections sounded weak—they sounded that way even to her.

  His fingers tightened around hers, and her pulse jumped. “Why not? What else is there to deal with? Tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

  “That’s just what I’m afraid of,” she muttered. She pulled her hand away. But she sat where she was, staring into his eyes. For once, he wasn’t glaring or frowning. He simply looked back at her—and she saw...she saw the Antonio she had once thought she loved.

  A man with an open face and pleading eyes. “I guess I’m out of excuses...and you’re out of time if you need a wife for a month.” She remembered Brenna telling her to get the legal stuff sorted out. It seemed like everyone wanted her to stay in Greece and get this mess with Antonio resolved. Sighing in defeat, she gave him a smile. “Okay, are we going public with this? Keeping it pri
vate? What kind of paperwork do we have to sign? Tell me just how do you see this working out?”

  Chapter Nine

  Antonio stood and held out his hand. “Come take a walk with me.” He wasn’t surprised when she refused to take it. He tucked his hands into his pockets and led the way to the French doors that opened onto the terrace. Outside they strolled the winding paths that crisscrossed the lawns. The air seemed fragrant with flowers, but Antonio kept catching hints of Claire’s scent. As they walked, he talked about the arrangements—he’d already spoken to the lawyer about the paperwork needed so Claire could marry him...and divorce him. His stomach tightened at the thought of her leaving again. How could he have so quickly become attached to her. But he knew the reason.

  Their romance before had been a whirlwind. She had fallen into his arms at the airport, and he had fallen in love the way only a young man could—without thought or care for the future. Now he had to think of his sisters, and the businesses, and of Claire. She had her own life that she had built. But oh how he wanted to take her to Villa Livia and stay with her there for as long as he could hold her.

  Touching a blooming white rose, Claire stopped and asked, “Why would your father do this to you? I mean, I get that he’s looking to control you still—but he seemed to really hate me. So why leave me anything? Why set this up to push you and me together?”

  Antonio shrugged. “I’ve thought about that. In his will, Matthias said something about making up for a wrong done. I’m thinking maybe he was trying to undo what he had done.”

  “So he decided I was okay after all?”

  Antonio turned and looked at her, shaking his head. “I don’t know. It could be that he knew I...I haven’t been serious about any other women, Claire. Matthias wanted grandchildren, and he thought my sisters too young to marry and found I was too stubborn.”

  “He must have hated having to give in and settle for me. Will everyone know this is just a pretend marriage?”

 

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