Xenakis's Convenient Bride

by Dani Collins

  His desire to claim Dýnami was the only reason, he told himself the next day, that his heart fishtailed in his chest when Takis arrived at the dimarchio alone.

  The mayor had gone into his chamber moments ago and was waiting for them.

  “Where’s Calli?” he asked Takis.

  “Ladies’ room. She’s not usually concerned about fussing with hair and makeup, but...” He glanced at his watch, then his gaze came up, level and unflinching. “You realize that if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  Possessiveness seared through Stavros’s veins like a hit of heroin. His knee-jerk reaction was to come down like a hammer on the man, but in the few dealings he’d had with Takis, he’d found him to be direct and genuinely interested in Calli’s welfare. Stavros had to respect him for that.

  So he only said, “My prospects are considerably better than a pool boy’s. She’ll be well taken care of.”

  “She was already well taken care of.”

  “If that was all she wanted, she would have married you when she had the chance.” It was a bit of a low blow, but Stavros was fishing. He knew Calli was getting something more from their marriage than a trip to New York and a generous settlement. He wanted to know what it was. The answer might lie in her reason for refusing Takis. What had her employer failed to provide for her?

  Takis had the grace to darken beneath his swarthy complexion.

  “I knew she was too young for me.” His voice sharpened to defensive. “But I was running out of time to provide Ophelia with a brother or sister, and I knew what people were saying about Calli’s presence in my house. They both deserved better.”

  His mouth grew so tight, a white line appeared around his lips.

  “Regardless how she reacted to my proposal, I have to respect her decision to accept yours. Even if I have my reservations.” His baleful glance was another warning. “She knows she has a home with us if it doesn’t work out. Don’t send her back to me in pieces.”

  Again Stavros told himself this catch of aggression was only because Calli leaving their marriage early could threaten his plan to take control of Dýnami, but there was more. There was something about the connection between her and this man that kicked him in the gut.

  The sound of two pairs of high-heeled shoes approached and he lifted his gaze, then caught his breath as the image of his bride slammed into him.

  The dress was simple, but Greek goddess–like in style. The front came down in a sharp V, hugging her breasts in gathered cups right above a wide band that emphasized her waist. Below it, the white silk draped gracefully to just past her knees. A handful of tiny white flowers had been woven into her hair and she held a bouquet of pink roses.

  Her hand went to her middle as she saw him. “It’s overkill, isn’t it? I told you,” she said to Takis, wincing self-consciously.

  “No,” Stavros insisted, shrugging on the suit jacket he had removed outside because of the heat. “You look beautiful.” He held out his arm.

  “I told you it was perfect.” Ophelia wore pastel pink. She was coltish and pretty, not unlike Calli in her quintessential Greek looks, and glowed with importance as she took her father’s arm and followed them into the mayor’s office.

  Minutes later, Stavros kissed his wife with a thrill of triumph. Strangely, the prize he most anticipated claiming was not the corporation. He was suddenly annoyed with himself that he had only booked a few short days—and nights—in Paris before he took Calli to New York.

  It was an odd shift in priorities that he put down to sexual frustration, but these few days of making arrangements had been interminable. The last thing he had patience for was a drawn-out goodbye between Calli and her employer, especially when it put tears in her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she choked as she hugged Takis. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? You silly girl.” Takis rubbed her upper arms. “I’m the one who is sorry. I know I let you down. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be doing this.”

  “No! You gave me so much. Now I’m leaving like I don’t appreciate it, but I do. I swear I do.”

  “All I ever gave you was a chance. You earned everything else. I wish you luck.” His face grew grave and concerned. “Call me. Any time, for any reason. Understand?”

  She nodded.

  “I mean it.”

  “I know,” she murmured and turned to his daughter. Ophelia sobbed openly and they hugged a long time, Calli murmuring reassuring noises to the teenager. “You call me anytime,” she said as they finally broke apart. “For any reason.”

  “I love you, Calli.”

  “I love you, too. Stay out of trouble, paidi mou.” There was such conflict, such an agony of torn loyalty in Calli’s expression, Stavros felt guilty taking her hand and drawing her away, like he was wrenching her from her family.

  If she felt so close to them, why was she marrying him?

  He wanted to believe the answer was obvious. Money, of course, but she had seemed rather ambivalent about the settlement they had negotiated, saying only, “Wow. You really want this marriage. I’ll try to live up to that.”

  She hadn’t tried to negotiate the value higher so he had wound up increasing the ceiling amount himself. He hadn’t lied to Takis when he had said she would be well taken care of, even if she didn’t know how to do that herself.

  He was still thinking about that, wondering about her reasons for wanting this marriage, when they were settled aboard his private jet. He watched her turn his rings round and round on her finger as though having second thoughts.

  “What else did Takis give you besides a job?” he asked.

  Her brows came together in dismay as she turned her head to look at him. After a surprised pause, she settled her hands in her lap and said, “I thought we agreed to keep this just business.”

  “We have to talk about something for the next six months. You didn’t like the idea of my investigating you. Tell me yourself what you want me to know.”

  Her chin set and she rearranged the fall of her skirt. She was still in her wedding dress, but it didn’t seem out of place. It seemed rather apropos, given the virginal nerves emanating off her.

  In the back of his mind, he kept thinking of that overheard conversation, when Takis had said, What happened to waiting until you’re married? She wasn’t a virgin, was she? In this day and age?

  “He gave me a home. Trust. Respect.” He heard poignancy in her tone, like she feared she had lost those things all over again.

  Stavros trusted her. To a point. He respected her as much as he respected any form of life. Maybe a little more, since she had the capacity for kindness and humor. Nevertheless, he was fairly sure his money was not her goal. She had other motives he had yet to determine. That produced a natural caution in him.

  “He said he asked you to marry him because people were gossiping about your arrangement.”

  “They were. But I had already put up with it for two years. I didn’t see the point in trying to change it just because I had turned nineteen. Frankly, they still would have talked. The age difference was that wide. And I didn’t think of him that way.”

  He hadn’t realized how young she was until he had filed for the marriage license. She didn’t look more than the twenty-three she was, but there was a maturity in her demeanor that suggested she was a lot older.

  “You were seventeen when you went to live with him?” Maybe she was a virgin. “Where were your parents?”

  “They live on the island.” Something in her tone warned him he was treading dangerous ground.

  He had asked if her parents would be coming to Athens for the wedding. Her flat no had half convinced him they were dead.

  “Did they disapprove of your living with Takis?”

  “They disapproved of a lot of things.”

  He suspected that was a colossal understatement, given the marble-like smoothness of her profile. “Is that why you moved in with Takis? Did you run away?”

  “They kicked me out.” Her ha
nds clenched into fists, crushing the delicate silk of her dress. “I was sleeping on the beach. It’s a small island. Everyone knew my business. I thought it would be better to get to the mainland, but I didn’t have ferry fare. Takis was the richest man on the island. I knew he was widowed. When I saw him waiting in his car for the ferry...”

  Her mouth pursed. Bright red flags of shame rose in her cheeks as she turned her head to look at him, but she met his gaze without quailing. Defiant almost, while the shadows of anguish in her eyes made the honey gold of her irises hard as amber.

  A spike of nausea went into his gut, anticipating what was coming, even though he somehow wanted to travel back in time and prevent the exchange she was about to admit to.

  “I made him an offer he kindly refused.” She tried to smooth the creases from her skirt as she realized how badly she had wrinkled it. “He knew there are plenty of men in this world who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of a desperate teenager, though. He was on his way to pick up Ophelia from her grandparents and hire a new nanny. She was running through them like penny candy. He said he would give me a shot, but made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate drugs or stealing or anything else like that. He’s not a bleeding heart.”

  “Is that why your parents threw you out? Drugs? Stealing?”

  “No.” It took her a minute to continue. Her hands twined together so tightly her nail beds turned white. “I, um, messed around with a tourist. My father said I shamed him.”

  Ah. Not a virgin. He was disappointed, but not for possessive reasons. He sensed that experience had colored her view of men and sex.

  “Is that why you wanted to wait until marriage to sleep with me? Because you had premarital sex and got thrown out for it?”

  She hitched a shoulder. She was back to offering only her profile, and blinked rapidly. “I just didn’t want to be used again. At least this time it’s mutual.” Her mouth quirked with distaste. “I won’t be left with nothing.”

  That mercenary streak of hers shouldn’t have chafed. He ought to find it comforting, he supposed, since it made her motives seem really straightforward, but he found himself saying, “I wondered why you were leaving him when you’re obviously very attached. Money does make the girl turn round, doesn’t it?”

  She swiveled just her head, eyes wide with hurt and something else. Bitter astonishment. “Are you pointing out that I haven’t risen very far from offering myself to Takis for ferry fare? I’m aware. But you married for money, too. If you find my behavior distasteful, it’s because you’re looking in a mirror.”

  * * *

  Calli had already been reeling over what she’d done before Stavros had pushed a stiletto of an insult between her ribs.

  She judged herself harshly enough, thanks. She’d married a stranger so he would take her to America. She was going to sleep with him and pose as his wife so she could search for her son.

  Takis had nearly come apart at the seams when she had told him what she had agreed to. Ophelia’s mother had been the love of Takis’s life, but he cared for Calli. Under his blunt exterior, he had always been protective of her, which was sweet, but as time wore on, it had also begun to abrade. Ophelia had said her father smothered and controlled. It was his way of trying to prevent the people he cared about from being hurt, but even with the search for Calli’s son, Takis had always been too quick to take the lead and make a call and act as go-between.

  She had felt held back, but she had let him shield her for a number of reasons, not least of which was her belief, deep down, that she was to blame for what had happened. She feared she wasn’t good enough to be a part of her son’s life. Brandon’s family hadn’t thought so. Her own parents had berated her for going through with the pregnancy then orchestrated Dorian’s removal from her custody. She had failed to hang on to him, had failed to even find out where he was.

  She had failed as a mother.

  So what right did she have to search for Dorian now? Would he even want anything to do with her? He was so young. Six. Was he in school? He might not even know he was adopted.

  Was he adopted? Loved?

  Takis had assured her more than once that powerful families didn’t like surprises from the past cropping up. They controlled them from the outset, which was why they had taken their grandson and cut his humbly born mother out of the picture as ruthlessly as possible. People at their level didn’t let their heir apparent marry an island girl knocked up during a holiday romance. They paid her off, then ensured their son’s slip-up was given a silver spoon and an Ivy League education.

  Takis was convinced Dorian was in a good situation. Brandon’s family wouldn’t have taken him if they only wanted to put him in foster care and forget about him. They could have left him in Greece if being raised by strangers had satisfied them.

  But was he loved?

  That was Calli’s best wish for Dorian, but there was a dark side to that shiny coin. If he was happy, then having his birth mother arrive to disrupt things could be traumatic for him.

  Until she knew exactly what kind of situation he was in, however, until she knew he was safe and loved, she would never rest easy. She would always be tortured by this sense that she had let him down.

  “You don’t like it?”

  Stavros’s voice startled her out of her introspection. “Pardon?”

  “He’s one of the top chefs in Paris, but you don’t seem pleased. Shall I call back the staff and request something else?”

  They’d been speaking to each other in stilted phrases since she had swiped back at him on the plane. Now she looked at the meal she had rearranged on her plate, but barely tasted.

  “It’s fine. Excellent. I’m just...distracted. I’m, um, sorry I was so bitchy on the plane. This is a big step I’ve taken. It’s finally hitting me.”

  His brows twitched with surprise at her apology. His cheeks went hollow, then he made a dismissive gesture. “Your remark struck too close to home. And, to be quite honest, my time fixing the pool tiles allowed me to see what a nuisance it is to lack money.”

  “A ‘nuisance,’” she repeated drily. “Do tell.”

  He shrugged off her sarcasm. “Even then, I had friends at the end of a telephone line and knew my dire straits were only for two weeks. I wasn’t sleeping on a beach. When I think of you as a young girl in that situation...”

  His sharp gaze was hard to bear.

  She hated thinking about that time, too.

  She sipped the very excellent white wine that had been paired with their meal for this private dining experience in a honeymoon suite with a view of the Eiffel Tower, then tried to lighten the mood.

  “The beach was nothing. I’ve spent the last six years with a girl going through puberty. Forget two weeks without credit cards. I challenge you to survive that.”

  He chuckled into his own glass as he took it up. “Pass.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She took a bite and chewed slowly, awash in the conflict of leaving Ophelia. She didn’t know about Dorian. Takis had left it to Calli to tell her if the timing ever felt right. It was such a very difficult subject. Calli had only ever opened up about it with Takis. Now she wondered if she should have explained better to Ophelia why she was marrying and moving to New York.

  “You’ll miss her,” Stavros said.

  “I will. When I first came to live with them, she was a nightmare. Did horrible things. Poured sand in my bed. Played dead in the pool. Got into Takis’s liquor cabinet. The first sip made her cough and I heard her, so not much damage there, but still.” Calli shuddered to remember those first months.

  “She resented anyone in the house who wasn’t her mother and wanted her father to stay home with her, but he couldn’t. I was quite open about the fact I had nowhere else to go. I told her it didn’t matter what she did, we were stuck with each other. Then one day we saw my mother as we were running errands.”

  Calli’s appetite dried up again and she set aside her cutlery.

  “Ophelia re
alized there could be something more awful than your mother dying. She could be alive and refuse to look at you.” The agony of that painful moment caused a flinch she couldn’t control, tightening her voice even though she attempted to sound unaffected.

  Things had never changed and Calli doubted they ever would. Her mother had had opportunities to back her up about Dorian being taken, when Takis had first tried to help, but she had stuck with the story that the baby had died. She had aligned with Calli’s father and Calli would never forgive either of them.

  “Ophelia still pulled pranks after that, but they weren’t so malicious. We started having fun together.”

  They had grown so close that by the time Calli first scraped together enough of her wages for airfare to New York, but just airfare, she had been reluctant to abandon Ophelia. She was finally settling down. Her grades had improved and Takis wasn’t as worried as he’d been.

  Calli had let Takis talk her into staying a little longer, unwilling at that point to confess to him her reasons for wanting to leave. It had been too humiliating, and it had felt good to hear how much she was needed by him and Ophelia. For the first time in her life, she had felt valued. Loved.

  “She’s excited to go away to school, but I know she’s anxious, too. Now you’ve bought her home and I’m leaving for New York. It’s a lot for her. I feel guilty.” Torn.

  “Regretful?”

  “No.” She was able to state that in a quiet, but firm tone of resolve. Whatever happened in New York would be painful. That was a given, but this was too much of a golden opportunity to get answers. She couldn’t let anything hold her back. Not this time. “No, I’m quite committed to going through with this.”

  “I’ll try to make it pleasant enough you don’t have to simply endure it,” he drawled.

  “What? Oh, that did sound awful, didn’t it?” She blushed and covered her hot cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

  “I know.” His voice held humor, but confidence and anticipation, too.

  It provoked a ripple of awareness, sending restlessness prickling through her. She had been avoiding thinking about sex. It had been a kind of denial as she focused only on what she would get with this marriage, not on what she would give up.