Bride by Day

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Bride by Day Page 11

by Rebecca Winters


  “Removing your shoes so you can walk along the beach with me.”

  Of necessity, she had to cling to his powerful shoulders so she wouldn’t fall over. The touch of his fingers brushing her slim ankles sent waves of delight through her body.

  “But, Perseus? I thought—”

  “You think too much, Kyria Kostopoulos.” Again he’d cut her off without so much as an excuse me. “Do you need help with your hose?”

  White-hot heat suffused her face. “Of course not! If you’ll turn around, I—I’ll remove them.”

  She heard a wicked chuckling sound before he tossed his jacket next to his shoes with unconscious male grace and started walking toward the gentle surf.

  Because Sam’s whole being shook with repressed excitement as well as confusion, she was all thumbs as she lifted the hem of her dress and managed to peel the confining material from her hips and legs.

  Wadding her hose into a little ball, she tucked it inside one of her shoes, then turned to join Perseus who stood watching her approach. With his feet planted apart in the foam, he looked like the powerful god of his namesake.

  In the darkness, it was impossible to discern the look on his face. But even if she could see his expression, the enigmatic mask he presented to the world would be in place, hiding the real Perseus.

  “Come.” He held out his hand. In that one simple word she felt some unnamed emotion that compelled her to grasp it. No matter how strong he was, how in control of every situation, she knew that his seeing Sofia had come as a tremendous shock.

  More than likely he needed Sam’s companionship because she was the one person who knew the truth. She’d already displayed that she was sensitive to his needs. He could count on her not mistaking his attentions for anything more than friendship, albeit a strange one based on a contract which, after tonight, would no longer be in effect.

  They continued walking through the shallow water beyond the point where they could see the lights from the villa before. When she couldn’t stand it any longer she blurted, “Sofia is very beautiful.”

  He sucked in his breath, but didn’t pause in his stride which he’d paced to suit hers. “There are differing kinds of beauty. Certainly Sofia has a bewitching quality many men would find provocative.”

  Sam’s heart was in her throat, but she had to ask and knew he needed to talk about it. “Was it hard seeing her again?”

  “Yes.” His voice grated. “She’s no longer eighteen. Life has brought irrevocable changes, and one can never go back.”

  He sounded so haunted, she could have wept. “That’s true, but you’re both still young enough to have a brilliant future. You can be married right away and start a family.”

  “That would be impossible.”

  “Of course it’s not!” she fired back. “Tomorrow I’ll sign whatever I have to sign to give you your freedom.”

  His hand seemed to tighten around hers, as if he were in the throes of intense emotion.

  “That isn’t the issue, Samantha. Even if her father passes away in the next few days, the period of mourning lasts a long time here on the island.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed out of pain for him. “You’ve waited twenty years. How cruel to be separated for even a few more weeks.”

  “More like fifty-two.”

  Her eyes flew open. “What?”

  At her outcry, he came to a standstill and faced her. “Decency would compel Sofia to wait a year, at least.”

  Her body shook with outrage. “It would be indecent to make either of you wait that long after what has transpired!”

  “Nevertheless, it’s the Greek way, and we’re both traditionalists. None of us involved could afford the inevitable gossip. Therefore you’re going to have to remain my faithful wife until the time comes that I can claim my heart’s desire.”

  To live with him for a whole year, but never really live with him? It was unthinkable. She couldn’t do it!

  Sam pulled her hand free of his. Out of the corner of her eye she detected a grimace darkening his features.

  “Is the thought of a year with me so abhorrent to you?”

  “No!” she cried, shaking her head. “Of course not. I’m only thinking of you. How painful it’s going to be living on the same island, knowing she’s only a few minutes away, yet not being able to go to her—love her—” Her voice wobbled precariously. Feeling his anguish, her head flew back. “Does she know about us?”

  His black gaze impaled her. “She knows how I feel, so that there can be no mistake, no misunderstandings.”

  “Y-you’re sure she doesn’t hate me?”

  “Can anyone know what is in another person’s heart?” he asked silkily.

  “It’s enough that I have told her the truth. How she deals with that truth is for her to handle, and is of no concern to you.”

  By now Sam was a jumbled mass of feelings. “If I were Sofia, no matter what I knew intellectually, I couldn’t bear to see you living with another woman. I-It would kill me. I’d be in such hell, I’d want to scratch the other woman’s eyes out!”

  An unexpected smile started at the corner of his mouth and widened until it reached his eyes. He looked years younger and so attractive, she almost fainted at the sight.

  “Such violent emotion...” His deep voice trailed “Fortunate indeed would be the man who inspired that kind of passion.” His hand suddenly lifted to his scar. “While we’re on the subject of violence, I thought I’d fly to Athens next week to see about having this removed.”

  The change of subject, let alone his intentions, stunned Sam. Only Sofia could have inspired that decision.

  Feeling inexplicably hurt, she started walking back the way they’d come, not caring if she splashed water on the hem of her dress. He wasn’t far behind.

  “If you’re worried about being left alone, you’re welcome to come to Athens and stay at the apartment while I have the surgery.”

  She could feel her anger kindling. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a big girl now, Perseus, and have lived alone for a long time.”

  “Actually I did notice,” he came back with aggravating persistence. “So what you’re really saying is that when we made our contract, you hadn’t counted on playing nursemaid.”

  “You’re deliberately misunderstanding me.”

  “If that’s so, then explain to me why my decision to have the scar removed has upset you so much.”

  “It hasn’t upset me!” She hurried faster to put distance between them.

  “Then why don’t you stop running away.”

  His challenge made her feel foolish and she slowed her steps.

  “Look at me, Samantha.”

  She didn’t want to look at him. He might see the same love light in her eyes which had been captured in the painting of her mother. Then Perseus would know everything...

  “If you’re afraid for me, you don’t have to be. Modern plastic surgery can do miraculous things with a minimum of discomfort.” He spoke in a low, soothing tone.

  “I know that.” Her voice actually squeaked.

  “Then what’s troubling you? I’ll get the answer if we have to stay here all night.”

  She reached for a little shell jutting out of the sand. “What you do is your own business, Perseus. Naturally Sofia hates it because it’s a brutal reminder of what she did to you.”

  After a slight hesitation, “I was just going to say that I—I can’t imagine you without it. I’ve had to take some sculpting classes, and it’s my belief that the statues critically acclaimed to be the most beautiful by the worlds’ art connoisseurs, generally miss being truly magnificent because they have no flaw that sets them apart and makes them unique.”

  The second the words left her lips, a pulsating stillness emanated from him.

  Only then did she realize that she’d spoken out of turn once more, and had all but told him he was physically perfect to her. Right now she could wish there were a sea monster who would drag her to his underwater gro
tto so she wouldn’t have to face Perseus again.

  “I wonder if you would be so brave if we didn’t have a contract.”

  She whirled around, furious. “The contract has nothing to do with anything. There isn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t find you attractive, Perseus.”

  The air throbbed between them.

  “Then prove it. Forget we have a contract, and show me you wouldn’t wince from such a disfiguration.”

  Perseus might be all man, but for an instant, his words reminded her of a proud little boy who’d rather die than admit he was afraid of rejection. Sam had no defense against that kind of appeal, and found herself moving toward him.

  Without conscious thought she lifted her hands to his face and raised on tiptoe to kiss his scar, not once, but many times because she loved him more than she’d thought it possible to love another human being.

  A torrent of Greek words broke from Perseus’s lips, then his mouth found hers, driving the breath from her body. They were melded together, moving and breathing as one flesh. Sam forgot everything in the rapture of being in his powerful arms like this and held nothing back, giving him kiss for kiss.

  Then just as unexpectedly, the ecstasy stopped. Perseus pushed her away from him, as if he’d come to the sudden, shocking realization that he’d been kissing the wrong woman.

  He walked on ahead of her to pick up their things off the sand. Sam followed a little ways behind, her heart sore with a brand-new ache.

  Obviously the experiment had worked. She’d proven to him that his scar had nothing to do with his magnificent looks or potent sexuality. But in the proving, she’d set up the means of her own destruction.

  In the days that followed, she lived to regret her impulsive action of taking up his dare. No matter that they had a business arrangement, she couldn’t forget that he’d opened up a new world of sensual joy to her.

  In Sam’s eyes what they’d done the other night constituted a mockery of the supposedly sacrosanct state of marriage. Worse, she found it almost unbearable to revert to a platonic relationship each time they found themselves alone with each other.

  Hard work was her only salvation, and right now she disliked being interrupted while she was supervising the men delivering the topsoil. Since her arrival, the sprinkling system had been put in, probably the only one of its kind on the island. Another day or two and everything would be ready for planting.

  “Kyria Kostopoulos? The phone!” Ariadne shouted from the doorway. Most likely it was another business call for Perseus. There’d been quite a few of them because he’d taken off more time from his work to help Sofia with her father’s funeral arrangements and burial. Throughout the proceedings, he’d insisted that Sam be at his side, carrying on in her role as beloved wife while they were under the scrutiny of his fellow islanders.

  Since Sam adored Perseus to the last tiny cell of her body, the part came as naturally to her as breathing. Too naturally. She welcomed his open display of affection, savored every kiss, every caress calculated to impress people that they were honeymooners who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

  But there was a down side to playing such a dangerous game. While poor Sofia had to stand by and watch in frozen silence, Sam was required to follow Perseus’s amorous lead, fully realizing that beneath this loving charade, he was counting the hours until he had the legitimate right to be in the other woman’s arms.

  “Can you take the message?” she shouted back.

  “It’s your husband!”

  Perseus.

  He’d left for Athens early that morning by helicopter, ostensibly to catch up on work at his office. But she had the gut feeling he’d been to see the plastic surgeon. If he’d opted to have an operation, then he’d probably decided to stay over and was calling to inform her.

  The disappointment of knowing he’d planned to go ahead without telling her his intentions, let alone that he wouldn’t be home tonight, almost incapacitated her. She dreaded hearing bad news, but there was nothing to do except hurry into the house so she wouldn’t keep him waiting any longer than necessary.

  Since that night on the beach, not another word had been mentioned about his scar, or the woman he loved. It was as if such a moment had never happened.

  During the last few days he’d fallen into a pattern of breakfasting with her around the pool while they discussed plans for the yard. On a couple of occasions, he’d declared that they’d done enough work. After asking Maria to prepare a picnic for them, he’d driven Sam to various points of interest on the island so she could play tourist.

  And always at night, he insisted that they take an evening swim in front of the villa before going to bed. Those were the moments of agony and ecstasy, cavorting in the waves with Perseus, then floating on the velvet sea while he made lazy circles around her with one powerful sweep of his arm. His touching stories about his youth made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

  Slowly she found herself recalling past incidents, particularly life at the university, the characters she’d met in the art department.

  But Perseus didn’t let it stop there. He had a way of getting her to talk about growing up in New York, about her mother.

  Little by little, as she grew more comfortable around him, he drew out memories so deeply buried, she’d forgotten they were there...especially those childhood fears over her mother’s poor health.

  On that point, Sam and Perseus shared similar remembrances. He, too, had worried about his mother’s anemia, and therefore understood Sam’s subsequent insecurity.

  In all ways but one, Sam had never been happier in her life. Each day was like a fantastic dream that grew more wonderful with the passage of time. She’d only known him a little less than a month, yet already she felt inexplicable joy just to be alive.

  How in heaven’s name would she survive a permanent separation after living with him a full year?

  The answer was simple. She wouldn’t...

  No matter Perseus’s declaration that she must stay with him until Sofia’s period of mourning had passed, Sam couldn’t go on this way much longer. She couldn’t take any more nights in the water where her physical awareness of him had grown too acute.

  He could have no conception of how her body burned from the slightest contact with his. She experienced literal pain each time he bundled her up in a beach towel and laughingly carried her back to the villa so she wouldn’t track sand in the house.

  “Perseus?” She fought to keep a level tone after speaking into the receiver.

  “You sound out of breath.” His deep voice reached out to grab at her emotions.

  “I was talking to the foreman about putting in one more layer of soil before the day is out.”

  “Try to finish up soon. I’m sending the helicopter for you.”

  Her heart lurched painfully. “Does this mean you’re going into the hospital?”

  A brief silence ensued. “No, Samantha. You decided me against having the surgery.”

  “I did?” she cried out in shock, pleased beyond words that she had any influence over him at all. “But I thought—”

  “As I told you before,” he interrupted suavely, “you think too much for your own good. I’ve decided it’s time we had a night out in Athens. You were too tired to enjoy it before. Wear something dressy. I’ll be waiting for you when you arrive at eight.”

  Her emotions were in such turmoil, she bit her lip and tasted blood. “Perseus—th-there’s nothing I’d like more, but I guess the heat has gotten to me today. I felt a headache coming on after lunch, and even with some tablets, it still hasn’t gone away completely,” she lied without any compunction. “Would you mind if we went out another time?”

  There was a dramatic silence on the other end. “Under the circumstances I’d be more upset if you didn’t take care of yourself. I’ll be home soon.”

  “No!” She twisted the phone line so hard she pinched a finger, causing her to wince. Don’t come near me tonight. “There�
��s no reason. Stay in Athens and enjoy yourself, visit with friends you haven’t seen for a long time.”

  No doubt there’s a woman who has missed your company and will be overjoyed to have you to herself for a little while.

  “You insult me by suggesting I have a pillow friend,” he rasped with a harshness in his tone she hadn’t heard since that first day in his office. Not only that, he’d read her mind with uncanny perception.

  “Contrary to world opinion, not every man in Greece is unfaithful to his wife. We’re married, Samantha. I made vows which I intend to honor. Expect me within the hour.” The line went dead.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SAM shivered from his curtness, almost dropping the receiver in the process. He was angry. Really angry.

  Realizing she didn’t have much time, she dashed out of the house to tell the foreman to finish up. Then she hurried back inside for her shower, informing a concerned Ariadne that she wasn’t feeling well so she was going to skip dinner and go straight to bed.

  Though Sam hadn’t had a sign of a headache when she’d answered the phone, she’d developed one since talking to Perseus. Hopefully a couple of pills would help her to fall asleep before he could make it back to the island.

  She couldn’t understand why he’d become so upset. In the eyes of the law they might be legally wed, but they weren’t really married!

  He had every right to be with whatever woman he desired. Perhaps on the island he had to be discreet. But in Athens, surely there would be no problem spending time with a girlfriend of long association. Sam could never blame him for seeking feminine comfort until he and Sofia were finally married.

  But Perseus had an honorable streak that ran deep. As long as he and Sam had been through a legal ceremony, he obviously intended to remain true to their nuptials. As for her being sick, he would cancel everything to put her needs before his, because that was the way he was made.

  If she could be sound asleep by the time he arrived, he wouldn’t have to play nursemaid to her, and could make use of the free time working on new business ventures.

  Closing the shutters against the early evening light, she climbed under the covers and turned on her stomach, burying her face in the pillow. Hopefully by the time Yanni had driven Perseus back from the helipad, she’d be in that necessary state of oblivion.

 

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