by Leslie North
Eva shook her head. “Do you think that’s really possible?”
“If it’s not, then she shouldn’t be with Antonio.”
***
When Claire woke, her first thought was that today she was marrying Antonio. Her heart slammed into her chest and for a moment she couldn’t suck down a breath—then she inhaled and sat up. A few years ago, the idea would have filled her with excitement and joy. Today the butterflies in her stomach felt more like B52 bombers.
Am I really doing the right thing?
Getting up, she strode to the French doors, pulled them open and stared out at the gardens. In some ways, the past week or two felt like a dream. Since Antonio’s sisters had come home, they’d insisted on taking her shopping and sightseeing. They’d taken her to the exclusive Attica Department Store, in a beautiful old building, and the Golden Hall on Kifisia in Maroussi, a huge shopping mall. They’d also taken her to the National Gardens, and made her climb Mount Lycabettus—and Eva had hinted how romantic it was to watch sunsets from that spot. Eva and Alexandra had then giggled like schoolgirls. They’d gone to the Plaka District for lunch and the boutiques, and they’d gone to the Exir Spa on Cape Sounio for a day, which had turned into a grueling interrogation with Alexandra asking a thousand questions about the wedding. Was it going to be in a church, or traditional? There was no question about Dareios being Antonio’s koumbaro, or best man, who would stand with him, but who was going to be Claire’s koumbara to help her dress? Who did Claire invite? What would Claire wear? Why hadn’t Antonio bought a ring for Claire yet?
Claire finally asked both Eva and Alexandra to be her maids of honor, but Alexandra shook her head and Eva looked horrified—odd numbers were good luck and so it had to be one or three. And Claire suddenly wished she could have Brenna with her.
She glanced at her phone now, sitting beside the bed. She’d been texting Brenna almost every day, but they hadn’t talked—the seven hour time difference was a headache and a problem. But now she wished she could just call Brenna and spill everything. She really couldn’t bring herself to wake her friend. She also hadn’t told her parents anything about this marriage—how could she call them and ask them to be here when it was all just pretend?
With a groan, she headed for the bathroom, her head starting to pound and her stomach in knots. At the least she could soak in the tub for a half hour. Maybe that would help.
It didn’t. The jets at least eased the tension in her back, but as she dried herself, she had to admit that it felt wrong to have agreed to this fake marriage. Even for just a month. Or maybe it was because it was only for a month. If she closed her eyes, she could feel Antonio’s hands on her—she could hear his voice. Her pulse picked up and her skin tingled. He’d been wonderful these past few days—but he’d also been distant. And she couldn’t decided if she appreciated his restraint or if she wanted to throw him to the ground and jump his bones.
She shook her head and started to brush out her hair.
If she didn’t marry Antonio today, he’d need to find another girl to marry—and fast. And that might not go so well. At least she and Antonio had gotten over the past and were becoming something like friends. She had to admit, too, that the thought of being with him for a month was more than tempting. She couldn’t help but think about that day in the dressing room. His hands had been so strong—so certain. He’d made her feel...special. She wanted that again. She wanted to feel his body against hers again—she wanted to hold him. But if she did, was she going to fall for him? How could she share his bed and not end up sharing her heart?
She’d tossed and turned most of last night, trying to figure out what it was she really wanted. Antonio—or her own life? She was pretty sure if she married him for real, she’d end up being his shadow. He was as forceful a personality as his father had been—how could she hold out against that? And how could she just up and move here to Greece? Even with the recording studio he’d built for her, she knew her career would change—might possibly even end. People would start to think of her as Antonio Rosso’ wife, not as Claire Bennett.
Wrapping a huge bath towel around her, Claire headed back into the bedroom. Maybe after the wedding, she’d be able to focus better.
The wedding was to take place right before lunch here at the Rosso estate. She was glad they weren’t doing a traditional Greek wedding in a church—saying her vows that way would make her feel worse than bad. Only Antonio’s closest friends, his sisters, Dareios, some of his relatives and a couple of her sound recording friends would be here. Steve and George had arrived, with their wives—and they’d been having a great time, vacationing more than working. She was just glad she wouldn’t have to try and fool masses of people. Although Antonio had warned her to expect a ton of photos to hit the tabloids—the paparazzi would be using telephoto lenses and maybe even helicopters to get wedding shots.
And Gaia—as well as the rest of the staff—had been working hard not just to prepare for the wedding, but sending Claire sly glances and smiles.
If I don’t see anyone before the ceremony, I might actually hold it together!
But a knock on her door told her she wasn’t going to get away with that plan.
Alexandra opened the door and came in with a tray. She had on a high waisted, sky-blue dress that emphasized her dark good looks. Claire also recognized the Greek version of biscotti, koulourakia, on the tray which Gaia made with raisins, cinnamon, and orange rind. She could also smell the strong Greek coffee, which Alexandra took honey sweet, or what the Greeks called, glykys.
Tightening her towel, Claire said, “You didn’t have to bring up breakfast. Now I feel horrible that you had to bother.”
Alexandra grinned. “We can’t have you fainting this afternoon because you’re starving.” She put down the tray and picked up her coffee. “Are you excited? Nervous?”
“Yes, yes, and more yes.”
Tipping her head, Alexandra sipped her coffee. “You sure you and Antonio aren’t fooling yourselves into believing this is all pretend? Maybe the pretend is the pretend?”
Claire shrugged into a dressing gown, turned, and slipped the towel off. “No. We both have lives that are way too far apart—I’ve got a career, and Antonio...well, he really needs to find someone who can be that perfect businessman’s wife that he needs. He’s probably got society events already lined up and waiting.”
Coming over to her, Alexandra touched Claire’s hair. “Eva is ready to work her magic on your hair and your makeup.” Alexandra looked as if someone had already done her hair—her thick black hair had been pulled back and up into a French braid, but curls dangled loose around her face.
Stomach jumping, Claire drank some of her black coffee. Today, she needed the boost. “I’ve been doing my own hair and makeup for years.” She spread her hands wide. “I’m in show business after all.”
“You do voiceover work where you can look like crap. Eat some koulourakia while I go round up Eva. You’re going to thank me after she’s done with you.”
Eva came in carrying a case and dressed similar to Alexandra, but her dress was a brighter, more vivid blue—almost a turquoise—in a form-fitting sheath with a silver belt and silver shoes. She’d left her hair in a loose pony tail that fell over one shoulder. She grinned at Claire and said, “Time to close your eyes.”
Two hours later, Claire was finally allowed to see what magic Eva had worked. Eva had fussed and brought out an entire kit of makeup and...well, stuff was the only word Claire could think of for it. She’d had her hair curled and crimped and heaven only knew what else had been done. Alexandra had sat on Claire’s bed, offering opinions from time to time. Eva had made faces at her and ignored everything her sister said.
“Okay, you can open your eyes,” Eva said.
Claire sucked in a breath. Was she going to look ridiculous? She opened her eyes.
The vision that stared back at her looked amazing! Her hair had been curled and braided. The front parts wound around h
er head, while the back hung down in waves over her shoulders. Eva had woven golden ribbon into Claire’s hair. As she moved, the gold caught the light, giving her an almost ethereal appearance.
Her makeup had also never looked this good. Eva had somehow brought out the emerald green and even the golden flecks. Her skin seemed perfect—and she was...well, she looked beautiful. For once, she didn’t think her nose looked too short, or her chin too pointed.
“Antonio is going to have a coronary when he sees you,” Eva exclaimed clapping her hands in glee.
“Now for the dress!” Alexandra headed to the closet. She pulled out the dressing bag delivered from Linea Piu the day before. Eva and Alexandra had taken Claire to the exclusive shop and had said it was the only shop with Channel in all of Greece. Claire had purposefully not looked into the bag. She’d picked out a simple ivory suit and ivory pumps
Alexandra hung up the dressing bag and gave Claire a mischievous smile. “Okay, let’s get you dressed.” And she unzipped the bag. Instead of the suit Claire had picked out, Alexandra pulled out a beaded gown, complete with Grecian-style braiding across the bodice, and a scoop hemline, shorter in the front and which trailing to the floor in the back.
Mouth falling open Claire stared at it. She stood. “What...oh, my God, the shop sent the wrong dress!”
Alexandra laughed. “No, silly. This is your wedding dress. Eva and I went back to Linea Piu and cancelled that dull suit you were so dead set on.”
Claire stared at them. “Why would you do that?”
Alexandra shared a look with Eva and then came over and took Claire’s hand. “We know you are only doing this...well because Antonio must marry. But don’t you really want to knock Antonio’s socks off? Just once, don’t you want to see him speechless—his jaw hanging open and have him stare at you like you’re his very most favorite dish in the world? Eva and I love both you and Antonio very much. You should have at least one wonderful, happy day.”
“But...oh, I can’t.”
Eva came over and stood in front of Claire. “Yes, you can. Do you want to ruin your own wedding day!” Claire looked at the dress and felt tears spring to her eyes. Eva grabbed her free arm and shook it. “Don’t cry, you’ll mess up your makeup, and I’ll have to do it all over again.”
Taking a couple of deep breaths, Claire shook her head. “What’s Antonio going to think?”
“That you look like a goddess.”
Eva rolled her eyes. “You two should just sleep with each other and stop acting like you’re both twelve!”
Alexandra gave Eva a glare, and Claire avoided meeting either of their stares. She kept telling herself it was way better to be a little sexually frustrated for a few weeks and not give in to the urges Antonio kept stirring up. But she was also starting to think that, either way, she would end up a complete wreck when this fantasy ended.
Tugging on Claire’s dressing gown, Alexandra glanced at the clock. “We’ve got to move or you’re going to be late to your wedding.”
Ruthlessly, Alexandra and Eva stripped her and dressed her. When she turned to look at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t believe how perfectly the dress fit.
Peering at her in the mirror over her left shoulder, Eva grinned. “This is going to be the knock-off dress of the year.
Alexandra put an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “My brother is going to fall in love with you—like a man struck by a thunderbolt from Zeus.”
“That doesn’t sound so good.” Claire licked very dry lips, then remembered her makeup and tried not to fuss.
“Come on. It’s time. I can hear the music starting up.” Alexandra tugged her toward the doorway. Eva darted out and down the stairs—she was supposed to be the flower girl.
At the top of the stairs, Alexandra picked up the train of the dress. Eva pushed a bouquet of white roses and orange blossoms into Claire’s hand. Claire walked down the stairs, her hand shaking and her stomach doing somersaults.
The wedding was taking place in the back garden, just past the terrace. As they neared the doors leading out of the house, Claire saw that a gazebo had been set up at the far end of the garden. There were also about fifty more people than she’d expected. She turned to Alexandra. “Who is everyone?”
With a shrug, Alexandra said, “Cousins. These are only the ones Antonio had to invite, but we’ll be hearing from the family for years about this. Now go.” She put a hand on the small of Claire’s back and pushed.
Heart thudding, Claire started walking. She focused on Antonio and tried to ignore the stares on her and the whispers.
Antonio looked handsome in a dark-blue suit and an open necked button-down white shirt. He had a white rose in his lapel. He stared at her, his eyes darkening. A shiver ran through her.
I can do this! I hope I can do this!
She made that her mantra as she walked and tried not to trip. She’d put on the gold sandals she’d bought with Antonio on that day he’d been so passionate in the dressing room. A string quartet played something classical that Claire couldn’t have named if she’d tried. She was vaguely aware of Dareios, standing next to Antonio, and of the few guests gathered near. The ceremony was a civil one—and Antonio had persuaded the official to come to the estate instead of going to the office like most people. Antonio had explained to Claire that the marriage would have to be registered to be valid, but he’d managed to get all the red tape unknotted and finished.
When she stepped next to Antonio, he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Nice dress.”
Face hot, Claire whispered back, “Thank your sisters. They hijacked my choice.”
“Remind me to buy them something outlandish as a thanks.” He gave her a wink and rested one hand on her waist.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Claire tried to focus on breathing so she wouldn’t pass out. The next thing she knew Antonio had slipped a ring on her finger, they were pronounce man and wife, and Antonio turned to kiss her.
Chapter Twelve
He had a reason to kiss her—a good reason. At last. Antonio grabbed her, tipped her backwards, and pressing his body against hers. He wanted her to feel everything—to always remember this moment. He pressed his mouth to hers, heard her gasp, and then he forgot the world.
There was nothing but Claire—her lips, her mouth, her fragrance. He pressed her closer, feeling her breasts flatten against his chest. He tightened his hold and took possession of her mouth—of her. Finally, he ran out of breath. Head swimming, he righted her. Reluctantly, he let go.
Claire touched her mouth. He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him down the aisle so they could escape the small crowd for a few moments. He hurried her to another room downstairs that had been set aside for them to have a few moments of privacy before they must greet their guests. And before the wedding party began. He could already hear the music starting—Eva had hired a DJ and dance music blared. There would be no traditional Tsamiko dance—but if he knew his cousins, maybe there’d be ouzo-soaked Zeibekiko dancing later. For now he needed to talk to Claire.
He pulled her into the room with him and took her hands. “Claire, thank you. From the bottom of my heart for marrying me. I know this is not the wedding you always dreamed of.”
Claire shook her head. “But it was. I mean, it didn’t start out that way, but your sisters turned it into something I will always remember, only—”
“Only you wish you could have had your parents here. That you could have married someone you loved for your first time.” Antonio suddenly wished things had turned out differently. He’d had once been in love with her—or he thought he had.
Claire shrugged. “What happens now?”
“We go out to talk with our guests. We eat. We must dance. And then we fly to Kato Antikeri and spend a week there.” She parted her lips, and he knew she was about to give him one of her reasons not to do something. He put a finger across her lips. “Trust me, this is for the best. The news media is already at the front gate
, and the staff can only protect us for so long. We need a little time so they become interested in some other scandal.”
Claire nodded.
A knock sounded on the door and Dareios called out, “Time to make an appearance, you two love birds. Your guests cannot drink until they toast to your happiness.”
Antonio turned to Claire. “Trust me to make sure everything will be just fine.”
Claire smiled, but Antonio heard her mutter, “If only that was so easy.”
But he didn’t know if she was talking about the situation—or about trusting him.
***
“Admit it, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Antonio peeled Claire’s hands from his thigh. He was certain she had left bruises when the pilot had landed the sea plane just off the main bay for Kato Antikeri. The island was small, with only the Villa Livia, goats, sheep, olive groves and white sand beaches. A wooden dock stretched into the bay and the pilot eased the sea plane toward the wooden pier.
Claire swallowed and shook her head. “Not my favorite way to travel.”
“Come on, let’s get out and you can take a look. The staff will carry our luggage to the villa.”
She nodded and allowed Antonio to help her from the plane. She seemed wobbly on her feet, and Antonio kept an arm around her waist. Thanopolis—an ancient who had been caretaker here for longer than Antonio could remember—met them at the dock with his son, Stephan, a skinny man far older than Antonio. Looking up the hillside, Antonio could see Mrs. Thanopolis—her gray hair pulled back and the wind whipping her black dress—standing on the terrace around the Villa Livia. The older woman waved to them.
Glancing back, he saw Claire had already taken off her sandals. She had changed from her wedding dress to jeans and a pink T-shirt. She still looked beautiful. He was certain, too, that the wedding party was still going on back in Athens, but he was glad to be away from the noise and all that family.
Sandals in her hand Claire headed for the white sand beach while Antonio helped Thanopolis and his son unload the plane. He was glad Claire had packed light—just a single bag. He had packed two bags, and he asked Thanopolis if the villa was well stocked for food and got back a shrug that could mean of course or of course not. Thanopolis and his son headed to the steps leading up to the villa, and the sea plane headed back out onto the open water. When the plane had taken off, Antonio headed over to Claire.