by Jennie Lucas
“Where are we going?” Belle said, starting to follow, the Spaniard coming up behind her. Darius blocked them from the limo.
“Thank you so much. Both of you. But I’m afraid Letty and I must leave immediately for Greece.”
Belle frowned. “I thought you weren’t leaving until tomorrow. We were going to take you out for dinner...”
“Unfortunately, we must get on the plane immediately. My family is waiting to meet my new bride.”
“Oh,” Belle said, crestfallen. “In that case... Of course I understand.” Leaning into the back of the limo, she hugged Letty. “Have a wonderful honeymoon! You deserve every bit of your happiness!”
Belle was right, Letty reflected numbly as the limo pulled away from her friend still beaming and waving on the sidewalk. She’d get all the happiness she deserved after abandoning her father to marry Darius: none.
Letty stared out at the gray rain. Darius sat beside her silently for the hour and a half it took to drive through the evening rush-hour traffic to the small airport outside the city. As they boarded his private jet, he continued to ignore her.
Fine. Letty didn’t care. She felt exhausted and miserable. Walking to the separate bedroom in the back of the jet, she shut the door behind her. Climbing into bed, she pulled the blanket up to her forehead, struggling to hold back tears. She closed her eyes.
And woke up in a different world.
Letty sat up with an intake of breath.
She was no longer on the jet. She found herself in a big, bright bedroom, empty except for a king-size wrought-iron bed.
Brilliant sunlight came through the open windows, leaving warm patterns against the white walls and red tiled floor. She heard laughter outside and conversation in an exotic language and the sweet singing of birds.
She looked down at the soft blanket and cotton sheets. Where was she? And—her lips parted in a gasp. She was wearing only her bra and panties! Someone had undressed her while she was asleep! The thought horrified her.
How had she gotten into this bed?
The flight across the Atlantic had been lonely and dark. She remembered crying herself to sleep on the plane. After her sleepless night before their wedding, she’d slept deeply.
She dimly remembered Darius carrying her, the warmth of his chest, the comforting rumble of his voice.
“So you’re awake.”
Looking up with an intake of breath, Letty saw her husband now standing in the open doorway, dressed more casually than she’d ever seen him, in a snug black T-shirt and long cargo shorts. Sunlight lit him from behind, leaving his expression in shadow.
“Where are we?”
“The island of Heraklios. My villa.”
“I barely remember arriving.”
“You were exhausted. Overwhelmed from the happiness of marrying me,” he said sardonically.
“What time is it?”
“Here? Almost two in the afternoon.” He motioned to a nearby door. “There’s an en suite bathroom if you’d like a shower.” He indicated a large walk-in closet. “Your clothes have already been unpacked.”
“Are you the one who took off my clothes?”
“Just so you’d sleep more comfortably.”
She bit her lip as she looked down at the bed. “Um. And did you...did we...uh, share this bed?”
His shoulders tensed. “If you’re asking if I took advantage of you in your sleep, the answer is no.”
She took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean...”
“Get dressed and come out on the terrace when you’re ready. My family is here to meet you.”
Letty stared at the empty doorway in dismay, then slowly rose out of bed. Her body felt stiff from sleeping so long.
Going into the elegant marble bathroom, she took a hot shower, which refreshed her. Wrapping herself in a towel, she wiped the steam off the mirror. Her face looked pale and sad.
A fine thing, she thought. When she was about to meet his family. They’d take one look at Letty’s face and assume, as Santiago Velazquez had, that she and Darius had gotten married only because of her pregnancy. Why else would someone as handsome and powerful as Darius Kyrillos ever choose a penniless, ordinary-looking woman like her?
He was taking a risk even bringing her to meet them. She could embarrass him, treat them disrespectfully. She could even explain how he’d blackmailed her into marriage.
Letty looked at her eyes in the mirror. She didn’t want to hurt Darius. She just wanted him to forgive her dad.
Maybe she could start by treating his family with the same respect she wanted for her father.
Letty dressed quickly and carefully, blow-drying her long dark hair and brushing it till it shone. She put on lipstick, and chose a pretty new sundress and sandals from the closet. Her knees shook as she went down the hallway. A maid directed her toward the terrace.
With a deep breath, she went outside into the sunshine.
Bright pink bougainvillea climbed the whitewashed walls of the Greek villa, above a wide terrace overlooking the mountainous slopes of the island jutting out of the Ionian Sea.
Against the blue horizon, she saw the shaded forest green of a distant island. The whole world seemed bright with color: blue and white buildings, sea and sky, pink flowers, brown earth and green olive, fig and pomegranate trees.
She felt the warm sun against her skin, and pleasure seeped through her body. Then she saw the group of people sitting at a long wooden table.
Darius rose abruptly from the table. Silence fell as the others followed his gaze.
Wordlessly, he came over to her. His dark eyes glowed as he lowered his head to kiss her cheek. Turning back to the others, he said in English, “This is Letty. My wife.”
An elderly woman got up from the table. Standing on her tiptoes, she squinted, carefully looking Letty over from her blushing face to her pregnant belly. Then she smiled. Reaching up, she patted Letty on the cheek and said something in Greek that she didn’t understand.
“My great-aunt says you look happy now,” Darius translated. “Like a beautiful bride.”
“How sweet... Did she see me before?” Letty asked.
“When I brought you in. She said you looked like death warmed over.”
She stared at him in horror, then narrowed her eyes accusingly. “She never said that.”
He gave a sudden grin. “She says our island has obviously revived you, all our sun and sea air. Plus, clearly—” he quirked a dark eyebrow “—marriage to me.”
The elderly woman said something quickly behind him. He glanced back with an indulgent smile. “Nai, Theia Ioanna.”
“What did she say?”
Darius turned back to Letty. “She said marriage to you seems to agree with me, as well.” Looking down at her, he hesitated. “Our wedding was...”
“Horrible.”
“Not good,” he agreed. His dark eyes caressed her face, and he leaned forward to whisper, “But something tells me our honeymoon will make up for it.”
Letty felt his breath against her hair, the brush of his lips against her earlobe, and electricity pulsed through her at the untold delights promised by a honeymoon in the Greek villa. In that enormous bed.
She tried not to think about that as he introduced her to the other people around the table, aunts and uncles and innumerable cousins. She smiled shyly, wishing she could speak Greek as one Kyrillos family member after another hugged her, their faces alight with welcome and approval.
One of the younger women grabbed her arm, motioning for her to take the best seat at the table. On learning she was hungry, other relatives dished her out a lunch from the tempting dishes on the table. Tangy olives, salad with cucumbers, tomatoes and feta, vine leaves stuffed with rice, grilled meats on skewers, fresh seafood and finally the lightest, flakiest honey pastries imaginable. After sleeping so long, and having no appetite yesterday, Letty was ravenous and gobbled it all up as fast as she could get it.
The women around her exclaimed approvi
ngly in Greek. Darius sat beside her, smiling, his dark eyes glowing beneath the warm Greek sun.
“They like how you eat,” he told her.
She laughed in spite of herself. In this moment, beneath the pink flowers and warm Greek sun, with the blue sea beyond, she felt suddenly, strangely happy. Finally, she pushed her chair away from the table, shaking her head as his relatives offered yet more plates. “No, thank you.” She turned anxiously to Darius. “How do I say that?”
“Óchi, efharisto.”
“Óchi, efharisto,” she repeated to them warmly.
One by one, his family members hugged her, speaking rapidly, patting her belly, then hugging Darius before they hurried into the villa.
“Your family is wonderful.”
“Thank you.” He lifted a dark eyebrow. “By the way, some of them speak English quite well. They’re just hoping if you don’t realize that, you’ll be inspired to learn Greek.”
She laughed, then looked around the terrace at the flowers and sea view. “I’m feeling very inspired, believe me.”
“They already love you. Because you’re my wife.” He put his arm along the back of her chair. “Not only that, you’re the first woman I’ve ever brought home to meet them.”
Her eyes went wide. “Really?”
He grinned, shaking his head. “For years, they read about my scandalous love life and despaired of me ever settling down with a nice girl.” He sipped strong black coffee from a tiny cup. “Great-aunt Ioanna is delirious with joy to see me not only sensibly married, but also expecting a child. And she remembers you.”
Letty’s smile fell. “She does?”
“Yes.”
“Does she blame me for—?”
“No,” he cut her off. “She remembers you only as the girl that I loved and lost long ago. In her mind, that means our marriage is fate. Moíra. She believes our love was meant to stand the test of time.”
Letty blinked fast. Our love was meant to stand the test of time.
Leaning forward, he took her hand. “You are part of the family. You are a Kyrillos now.”
It was true, she realized. She had a new last name. When she updated her passport, she’d no longer be Letitia Spencer, the daughter of the famous white-collar criminal, but Letitia Kyrillos, the wife of a self-made billionaire. Just by marrying, she’d become an entirely different person. What a strange thought.
But maybe this new woman, Letitia Kyrillos, would know how to be happy. Maybe their marriage, which had been so bleak at the start, could someday be full of joy, as her own parents’ marriage had been.
She just had to change Darius’s mind about her father. It wouldn’t be hard.
Like making it snow in July.
One of Darius’s female cousins came back out of the villa and pulled on his arm, talking rapidly in Greek, even as she smiled apologetically at Letty.
“They need to move the big table,” he explained. “To get the terrace ready for the party tonight.”
“What party?”
“They wouldn’t let us come all this way without making a big fuss.” He grinned. “There’s a party tonight to welcome you as my bride. Only family and friends from the village have been invited...”
“Good,” she said, relieved.
“Which, naturally, means the entire island will be here, and a few people from neighboring islands, as well.”
Her heart sank to her sandals at the thought of all those people judging her, possibly finding her unworthy of being Darius’s bride. She whispered, “What if they don’t like me?”
Reaching out, Darius lifted her chin. “Of course they will,” he said softly. “They will because I do.”
As the hot Greek sun caressed her skin in the flower-dappled terrace, the dark promise in his gaze made her shiver.
As his relatives bustled back out on the terrace, with maids following them, they started clearing dishes, wiping the table and sweeping the terrace.
Letty looked around anxiously. “Ask them how I can help.”
He snorted. “If you think they’ll allow either of us to lift a finger, you’re out of your mind.”
“We can’t just sit here, while they do all the work!”
“Watch this.” Pushing his chair back, Darius rose from the table and said casually in English, “Hey, Athina, hand me that broom.”
“Forget it, Darius,” his cousin replied indignantly in the same language, yanking the broom out of his reach. “You sent my sons to college!”
“You gave me a job when I needed work,” a man added in heavily accented English, as he lifted fairy lights to dangle from the terrace’s leafy trellis. “We’re doing this. Don’t think you’re getting out of it!”
They all gave a low buzz of agreement.
Looking at Letty, Darius shrugged. She sighed, seeing she was outmatched. His great-aunt was now, in fact, shooing them away with a stream of steady Greek, a mischievous smile on her kindly, wizened face.
Letty drew closer to him. “So what should we do with ourselves?”
Darius’s eyes darkened as he said huskily, “We are on our honeymoon...”
She shivered at his closeness and at the tempting thought of going back to the bedroom. But she was distracted by the sweep of the brooms and the loud cries of the relatives and house staff bustling back and forth across the villa as they cleaned and set up for the party, all the while watching Darius and Letty out of the corners of their eyes with frank interest and indulgent smiles.
“I couldn’t,” Letty whispered, blushing beneath all the stares. “If we stay, I’ll feel like we should help cook and clean.”
“Then let’s not stay.” He took her hand. “Let me show you the island.”
He drew her out of the enormous, luxurious villa, past the gate and out onto unpaved road. Looking around, she saw the rural rolling hills were covered with olive and pomegranate trees, dotted with small whitewashed houses beneath the sun. But there was one thing she didn’t see.
“Where are all the cars? The paved roads?”
“We don’t have cars. Heraklios is too small and mountainous, and there are only a few hundred residents. There are a few cobblestoned streets by the waterfront, but they’re too winding and tight for any car.”
“So how do you get around?”
“Donkey.”
She almost tripped on her own feet. She looked at him incredulously. “You’re joking.”
He grinned. “I managed to put in a helicopter pad, and also a landing strip, at great expense, and it isn’t even usable if the wind is too strong. Here we transport most things by sea.” As they walked closer to an actual village clinging to a rocky cliff, he pointed to a small building on a hill. “That was my school.”
“It looks like one room.”
“It is. After primary school, kids have to take a ferry to a bigger school the next island over.” As they continued walking, he pointed to a small taverna. “That’s where I tasted my first sip of retsina.” His nose wrinkled. “I spit it out. I still don’t like it.”
“And you call yourself a Greek,” she teased. His eyebrow quirked at her challenge.
“I’d take you in and let you taste it, except—” he looked more closely at the closed door “—it looks like old Mr. Papadakis is already up at the villa. Probably setting up drinks.”
“The whole town’s closing—just for our wedding reception?”
“It’s a small island. I don’t think you realize how much pull I have around here.”
Letty slowed when she saw a ruined, lonely-looking villa at the top of the hill, above the village. “What’s that?”
His lips tightened, curled up at the edges. “That was my mother’s house.”
“Oh,” she breathed. She knew his mother had abandoned him at birth. He’d never talked much about her, not even when they were young. “No one lives there anymore?”
“My mother left the island right after I was born, her parents soon after. It seems they couldn’t stand the s
hame of my existence,” he added lightly.
She flinched, her heart aching. “Oh, Darius.”
“My mother moved to Paris. She died in a car crash when I was around four.” He shrugged. “I heard her parents died a few years ago. I can’t remember where or how.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Why? I didn’t love them. I don’t mourn them.”
“But your mother. Your grandparents...”
“Calla Halkias died in a limousine, married to an aristocrat.” His voice was cold as he looked back to the ghostly ruin on the hill. “Just as I’m sure she would have wanted. The prestigious life her parents expected for her.”
A lump rose in her throat as she thought of Darius as a child on this island, looking up at the imposing villa of the people who’d tossed him out like garbage. She didn’t know what to say, so she held his hand tightly. “Did you ever forgive them?”
“For what?”
“They were your family, and they abandoned you.”
His lips pressed down. “My mother gave birth to me. I’m glad about that. But I wouldn’t call them family. From everything I’ve heard, they were a total disaster. Like...” He hesitated. But she knew.
“Like my family?” she said quietly.
He paused. “Your mother was a great lady. She was always kind. To everyone.”
“Yes,” she said over the lump in her throat.
“My yiayiá raised me. Our house didn’t have electricity or plumbing, but I always knew she loved me. When I finally made my fortune, I had the old shack razed and built a villa in its place. The biggest villa this island has ever seen.” Looking up at the ruin, he gave a grim smile. “When I was young, the Halkias family was the most powerful here. Now I am.”
She noticed he’d never said if he forgave them. She bit her lip. “But, Darius...”
“It’s in the past. I want to live in the present. And shape the future.” Taking both her hands in his own, Darius looked down at her seriously on the dusty road beneath the hot Greek sun. “Promise me, Letty. You’ll always do what’s best for our family.”
“I promise,” she said, meaning it with all her heart.