Greek Millionaire, Unruly Wife
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Julia took the moment of reprieve to study him. A Ralph Lauren jacket framed his broad shoulders, the Trump original tie a contrast to the white shirt stretched across his chest. His chiseled features bespoke of his Greek ancestry, his skin tanned, his hands…strong, capable, tender…in the way he’d touched her, held her, stroked her…loved her. Anguish tore through her. She’d laid her head on his chest, the swirl of hair tickling her cheek, his heart thundering in her ear…but that had been a million years ago.
Before he—
A whimper built inside her, ready to burst from her mouth, but she couldn’t let him see he still affected her. Too dangerous for her mind, her emotions, her world. She must remain immune to his charm, his magnetism, and his potent sexuality. The whimper came out like a near snort, and he shot her a glacial look.
“I-I can’t stay,” she murmured.
“You’ll stay long enough.” He leaned back, hitched up a trouser leg and crossed one leg over the other.
Cool. Powerful. Wealthy.
She reached for the drink he’d ordered, took a sip and the fizz tickled her nose, the taste of lime fresh upon her tongue. Slowly she set it back on the table, controlling the temptation to hurl it in his face. But only just.
Impeccable in his suit, he exuded a debonair flair of the lifestyle of the wealthy and the beautiful. She’d been the opposite. Casual and ordinary in jeans, halter-top and sandals, her sunburned nose magnifying her freckles. Except when the fashion pros worked their magic, transforming her into a human mannequin, and every man’s fantasy.
“I deserve an answer, Michalis.” She foolishly imagined he’d been captivated by the real her, not the plastic copy, but obviously she’d been wrong. Plastic deteriorated. And so had their marriage.
Jitters sprang inside her, and she cupped the water glass with her hands, the condensation cooling her palms. If he so easily trampled on their marriage vows, he’d just as easily demolish her life again…for no other reason than daring to challenge him…daring to leave him…daring to keep a secret.
“You do deserve an answer,” he said, his tone cool, hard. “As I do.”
“What do you mean?” She bolted upright, letting go of the glass and gripping the arms of the chair.
“Hit a nerve, have I?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” she fired back, but didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Perhaps this’ll refresh your memory, yineka mou.”
“Don’t call me that…I’m not your wife.” Not if he could betray her like he had, the image branded her brain cells.
“Technically, you are—” He leveled her with a look that rammed her ribs into her backbone, squashing her heart. “—until the divorce papers are signed.”
Her heart flipped, but then relief rushed through her. He didn’t know. He was here because of the divorce.
She squinted at him. “You could’ve done that from Greece.”
“What, and not see your beautiful face again?” he mocked. “You can have your divorce, Julia.”
“Di-ivorce.” The word grated her tongue like gravel. “Y-yes.”
“But there is a penalty.”
Her head snapped up, and she caught the stern set of his jaw, skin stretched taut across his cheekbones, the set of his mouth. His mouth had taught her such passion, created such erotic delight in her. His lips on hers, on her breast and gliding down her body, suckling her navel, and then lower to— Heaven.
Hell.
He knew.
She blinked, eclipsing the sensual images and crushing the memory beneath the gauntlet he tossed. Her freedom would come at a cost.
“I can’t imagine what it is,” she breathed out, sarcasm lacing her words, as the tremors inside her picked up momentum.
He laughed, a dry sound that sent chills up her spine.
A premonition…an astronomical price to pay.
“You can have your divorce, Julia.” His eyes glittered an ice storm, and he shot straight into her heart. “In exchange for my daughter.”
“No!” She leaped up so fast, the glass tipped over, liquid sloshing over the side onto the table. She couldn’t care less.
“I’ll see you in court then.”
Blackness undulated before her eyes, her pulse vaulted into her throat and the wool of her sweater itched her damp-sweat skin. She couldn’t beat Michalis Leonadis in a court of law … he had the money, the power, the connections. A bleat of sound from her mouth, and she gnashed it away, pulling on her inner strength that had gotten her through the last year. “I’ll see you in hell first.”
“That could be arranged,” he muttered, his words flint hard.
“Wh-hat do you mean?”
“How long did you think you could keep this from me?” he baited, fury in his midnight blue eyes.
The eyes of a hunter cornering his prey… her.
“You dare keep my child from me, Julia?”
“I-I was going to tell—”
“Enough,” he bit out. “Now sit down before you make a scene.”
She sank in the chair and clasped her hands in her lap to stop their trembling, her mind whirling. “I won’t let you take her away from me, Michalis.”
He arched an aristocratic brow. “How do you propose to stop me?”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Poli kala…very well.” A cold smile. “You will return with me to Greece for one month.”
She shrank back in her chair, rejecting his words, but her heartbeat skipped and her body flamed with awareness. Shock—that must be it.
“Why?”
“Because I want to get to know my child,” he ground out. “And a three-month-old needs her mother.”
“Glad you recognize that fact.”
“And her father.”
As much as she resisted, Julia knew he was right, but couldn’t help bouncing back with, “Amy can get to know you when she’s older.”
“Amy,” he whispered, a flicker of tenderness in his eyes. “She’ll get to know me now.”
Her heart sank. “You can come and visit her here, Michalis.” She was clutching at straws.
“And have you disappear again?” He picked up his glass, tossed the last of his drink down his throat and slammed the glass on the table. “We have things to discuss…do.” His gaze traveled over her, pausing at her breasts which were rising and falling with the over exertion of her lungs, a notch lower to the apex of her thighs, then back up to her face, her eyes, her mouth.
“No, Michalis.”
“I will do what I please, when I please, how I please…with you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I-I can’t Michalis,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “Not after you—”
“After I what, Julia?” he challenged, his words fueling white-hot anger.
“You made it clear you don’t want me.” She gripped her purse so hard, her fingers hurt. “And now I don’t want you.”
A shadow flittered across his eyes, and a muscle assaulted his jaw.
“You’re a necessity for the child,” he said, his tone reasonable. “While there you’ll also entertain me.”
“You can’t have me,” she bounded to her feet, finding her voice.
“I figured you might say that.” He signed the bill for the drinks to his room and stood, his eyes an ocean tempest.
Of course he’d be staying here, she thought, the extravagant rates would not dent his bank account. He was welcome to his money. All she wanted was her daughter. A ferocity rose up inside her. She’d never abandon her child like she’d been abandoned. The memory was like a scar on her psyche. Then to have Michalis do the same to her was—
“My solicitor will be in touch,” he bit out.
She blanched, a quake building inside her. There was no way she could fight him in court, she couldn’t afford it.
“You’ll have your divorce, Julia and I’ll have my daughter.”
“No, please,” she gasped.
“Then you will agree to my terms.”
She nodded, a void inside her. “A-a month, Michalis and not a day longer.” Not an hour, minute, second. A huff of a breath, then a grit of sound, and she whacked him with her gaze. “I’ll make every day I’m there hell for you.”
He chuckled, but it sounded lifeless, exactly how she felt. She took a step past him.
“I’ll send a car for you tomorrow at 8 a.m.”
She kept walking, shutting him from her thoughts.
“One more thing, Julia.”
She spun around, and her skin frosted. He stood there, tall, dark, remote. And sexy.
A lethal adversary.
To her heart…her mind…her life…her future.
“Don’t even think of skipping town tonight.” A cruel line carved his mouth. “I’ve security and—”
“You’re despicable.”
“Is that all?” He shrugged, but a nerve bashed his cheek. A moment of deliberation, and he delivered the blow that felled her. “You might have to explain to your daughter why your selfish actions nixed her billion-dollar inheritance.”
“Have you no honor?”
“You dare speak to me of honor?” he snarled. “You, who slunk out behind my back?”
Every fiber in her body quivered, the quake about to erupt inside her, and she blinked the blur from her eyes, easing the pressure. “You’d really use our child as a bargaining chip?” she murmured.
A lock of hair flopped over his brow, his Adam’s apple bopped, and his breath blasted from his nostrils like a snorting bull. “It’s your move, Julia.”
Her heart palpitated. By sleight of hand, he managed to immobilize her. She flexed her hands, breathed in and exhaled. If she was going to gain her freedom and secure her daughter’s financial future, she had to make a pact with this callous stranger before her. She’d be selling herself to him, and something seemed to die inside her.
“I won’t let you jeopardize her future, Michalis,” she fired, her words an ice blizzard.
“Then you’ll be there tomorrow, ready to warm my bed.”
Chapter 4
“Did you undress me, Michalis?” Julia, wearing a mid-thigh length robe and with tousled hair, stomped barefoot onto the terrace of the Leonadis villa overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
“Did you want me to?” Amusement tugged at his mouth, and he set the newspaper he’d been reading on the table, his x-ray vision raking her head to toe.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She clutched the robe closer about her body, and he laughed. And that had her ire rising…as well as her temperature and heart rate.
“Is it?” He leaned back in his chair, his words a low rumble in his chest sent her emotions into a scramble.
“Answer me.” She slid her fingers in her long locks and shoved them off her forehead. “Did you…I mean did we…you…me—”
“Yes and no.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Coffee?” He picked up the briki, the coffee pot, and motioned her to sit down for breakfast.
“Don’t change the subject.”
An impatient sigh filtered from his mouth, and he took his time refilling his cup, then hers. “You were exhausted after the flight and conked out after putting Amy to bed.” He raised the demitasse, took a long sip and reset it on the saucer. “Good coffee. You should have some.”
The man was maddening. Aggravating.
Hot. Sexy.
Dressed in designer slacks and an open necked shirt with a gold chain around his neck, he exuded a casual confidence.
Deceptive. The thought criss-crossed her mind, and a sound, almost a snort tickled her throat, and she gulped it down. Beneath his casual air coiled the strength and power of a puma which, once unleashed, tore up everything in its path. His unquenchable drive fueled him to succeed in everything he did.
In everything except their marriage.
The snort blasted from her then, and although she slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, it tainted the air between them.
He quirked a brow, and she lowered her lashes a fraction, glancing at his rolled up sleeves.
His forearms were smattered with dark hair, and his hands invoked memories—him holding her, touching her in her most intimate places, loving her. Erotic sensations frisked her body, and she crunched the feelings she’d just as soon forget between her teeth.
“I removed your shoes and outer clothing—made you more comfortable.”
“How thoughtful,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm, her toes curling on the tile. Compared to him she looked and sounded like a shrew, and that compounded her resentment against him.
“I can be.”
“Where did you sleep?”
“Why, next to you.”
“No.”
“Mmm, yes.”
She wanted to smack the ‘gotcha’ look off his face, but instead, she leaned against the balustrade and gripped the twisted metal rods between her fingers. Jasmine leaves brushed her skin, and the white star-shaped flowers filled the air with exotic scent.
“Can’t have the help gossiping, now can we?”
“That never worried you before.”
His eyes glittered, his shoulders tensed. “Indeed.”
The early morning sun warmed her back, and she turned, her gaze skimming over the bougainvillea in the garden below, the scarlet blooms a contrast to the whitewashed villa. Lifting her lashes, she looked far out to sea at the sailboats dotting the horizon, and her thoughts went into reverse.
The flight from Paris to Athens had been anything but cordial. Taciturn, Michalis had sat next to her, his gaze glued on the sleeping child in her arms; but when he shifted his eyes to her, his tender look became eclipsed by the hardening of his pupils. A rip of dread pierced her, and she’d clutched Amy closer to her heart.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she’d said between her teeth.
“Like what?”
“Like I’ve committed some great sin.”
He scratched his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Conscience nipping at you?”
“No,” she hissed. “It’s not my conscience that’s guilty, it’s—”
“You’d better get some rest.” He’d hauled himself up, reached for his laptop from the overhead compartment and settled on the seat across the aisle.
Several hours later, the Leonadis jet taxied to a stop on the runway of Athens International Airport, and Julia still refused to relinquish the child in her arms. Not during the drive to the villa, and not even after the chauffeur had set their suitcases in the foyer, and she and Michalis stood alone in the huge house.
“Let me help you with her.” Michalis had reached for the baby, but she twisted away and climbed the stairs. “The nursery’s on the right, adjacent to our bedroom.”
She faltered in her step, but kept going, shutting her mind to everything and everyone. Especially Michalis, and his ‘our bedroom’ announcement. A maid appeared in the hallway, opening the nursery door and Julia stepped inside, hugging her daughter even tighter.
The nursery was a child’s dream. A rainbow mural decorated one wall, teddy bear mobiles hung from the ceiling and stuffed toys were everywhere. The baby crib made of the finest polished wood and painted with cartoons, had the softest linen, and no doubt the most expensive.
A snicker trickled from her mouth. Michalis had given Amy everything in one day that money could buy…everything Julia hadn’t been able to give her in a year and might never be able to do.
Michalis wouldn’t spare any expense for what, or whom, he considered belonged to him. And he’d laid claim to her and her baby for the next month. Her chest grew tight. Would she have to forfeit her child to Michalis at the month’s end?
The query taunted her mind, sending a ripple of panic through her. She couldn’t compete with the Leonadis’ wealth. An explosion of air from her mouth, and the maid shot her a puzzled look. Julia gave her a brief smile, and swallowing emotion bruising her insides, laid her daughter on the fluffy mattress. Drawing the light blanket over her shoulders, she bent over and pressed her lips to the child’s brow.
“I’ll have your bags unpacked Kyria—”
“Thank you.” Julia bypassed her into the adjoining bedroom. “But that can wait.” As soon as the door closed behind her, she’d crashed out on the king-sized bed, squeezing the pillow in her arms. A tear had oozed between her lashes, then another…
“I’ve hired a nanny,” Michalis announced, his words echoing on the sunlit veranda and rocking Julia from her thoughts.
“What?”
“By tonight, you’ll be fully rested,” he said, his meaning unmistakable. “And to ensure you stay that way, I’ve hired a nanny for our daughter.”
“No way.”
“Yes.” Michalis lifted the demitasse to his mouth and took another sip of the Greek brew, fixing her with a piercing look over the rim. “It’ll ensure we won’t be disturbed—”
“Michalis, I don’t want my daughter looked after by a nanny. I’m perfectly capable—” She tossed him a cool glance over her shoulder, keeping her voice light but beneath her fingers, the steel design of the railing embedded in her palms. “There’s no need.”
“There is.” He slammed the cup down and twisted in his chair, the sunlight glinting on his hair. Even as her mind rejected, another emotion prodded her to reach out, brush back the stray lock from his forehead … craving to touch him.
A seagull squawked, snapping her from her foolishness and reminding her why she was here and what she stood to lose.
“Why?”
He blotted the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his laser-sharp focus sending a clear signal.
“What’s the rush?” she asked, her words a croak. Behind her, the surf crashed upon the sand, beckoning her back to the spectacular view of sea and sky curving around for miles.
“I want to get my month’s worth of entertainment.” He grinned… his mouth became a devilish slash, and she shifted away, the morning breeze cooling her hot cheeks. “And I want you to be in top form.”
“That is so crass.”
“In whose mind?”
She whipped around, about to hurl a blue streak at him, but at the last second, checked the impulse. Ignoring her twittering nerves, she took a deep breath and delivered him a more provocative response. “You hired me for the month…so…twenty-nine days left now.”
“Keeping tabs already?”
Dismissing his mocking tone, she flicked her head back, flexed her fingers away from the steel bars and imagined she was working the catwalk as she sashayed toward him. “Why wait for tonight?”
“Theos mou!” He vaulted from the chair, a muscle boxing his jaw, a storm brewing in his eyes and the napkin squashed in his fist.
But Julia wouldn’t leave well enough alone. For some perverse reason, she wanted to goad him to his limit, so she reached out, stroking his cheek with the tip of her finger. “I know how to entertain you.”
“Had more practice, have you?”
A stunned silence, and then the crack of her hand across his cheek reverberated around them. She didn’t know who was more shocked out of the two of them.
The stillness between them turned to a deadly calm, broken only by the ocean’s mysterious concerto behind them.
“Get something to eat,” he said, his words smooth steel, icy. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted…a leer if she ever saw one. “Once we get started, babe…” He brushed his cheek with the back of his hand, the imprint of her fingers stark upon his skin.
“I’m—” she began, but his next words jabbed and the apology dissolved on her tongue.
“We may not want to come up for air, let alone food.”
All she could do was gape at him…gape at this remote stranger and wonder where she’d gone wrong. Had she ever known the man she married? She doubted it.
“We set sail at noon.” He hurled the napkin on the table. “Be prompt.”
“What’s happened to you getting to know Amy?” She couldn’t resist a jab of her own nor a lift of her brow.
“I intend to, but first—” He took a step closer and cupped her chin in his palm, his coffee-laced breath tickling her cheek, her mouth, and his thumb stroking her bottom lip. “I want to get reacquainted with you.”
Julia swatted his hand away, and he laughed, the sound frosting her skin.
“I won’t be separated from my baby.”
“Amy will be in good hands.” His suggestive look implied that Julia would also be in good hands—his. “We’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“I won’t leave her with a stranger.”
“Nor would I,” he agreed, surprising her.
“I believe you’ve met the nanny once.” His eyes glinted like ocean agates, drilling into her.
Julia shook her head, crinkling her brow. “I don’t recall—”
“My meeting in Athens should only take a couple of hours.” He nixed her words, glanced at the Omega watch on his wrist and strode toward the exit. “Don’t be late.”
“Very well,” she sighed. “Amy and I will be ready.”
He paused in stride. “Maria will take care of Amy.”
A chill darted through her even though sunlight beat down upon her. “Maria?”
“The nanny.”
She brushed her hands over her arms, banishing the unsettling premonition.
“You’ll…like her.” He descended the stairs, his words mingling with the echo of his footsteps, and she couldn’t be sure she’d heard right.
“What can I get for you, Kyria—”
Julia waved the maid away and plunked onto the chair, her heart thudding in her chest. Bypassing the heartier fare of cereal, milk, eggs and bacon, she snatched up a piece of toast.
The front door slammed shut, and she jumped, then the rev of the car motor ripped through the air making her grind her teeth in annoyance until the sound became muted in the distance.
“Grr!” She bit into the dry bread, imagining it was a piece of Michalis’ anatomy she’d sunk her teeth into. Thoughtfully she chewed, choked down the morsel, and knew she’d have to find a way to trump her soon to be ex-husband’s plans.
Chapter 5
“Hey lighten up, you might enjoy spending the weekend with me.” Michalis peered at her over his sunglasses and swerved the red coupé into his reserved parking space at Piraeus Harbor.
“I won’t.”
He tapped the steering wheel with his open palm and about to say something more, changed his mind and switched off the ignition. Jumping out, he swung around to her side, but she preempted him by opening the door and hopping out.
“Okay.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, twisted around and swatted the fender with his hand. The tug-o-war between Julia and him had been percolating since this morning, and detonate it would. Until then, he intended to enjoy the thrill of battling and conquering the beauty queen standing before him with such icy disdain. “But I will enjoy the weekend.”
Her sharp intake of breath nicked the silence between them. He studied her stiff back, her shapely derrière encapsulated in her short shorts, her tanned legs, trim ankles and feet strapped in flimsy sandals.
A sigh pulled its way from deep in his throat, and sounding more like a growl, he ground it down. Like the mythical Menelaus had launched a thousand ships to reclaim Helen of Troy, he’d been prepared to do the same to find Julia. His Adam’s apple bounced, and the low rumble began building in his chest. Since then, the playing field had changed. He tightened his abs and the growl blasted from him in a cruel hush. Julia had not only deceived him by hiding his daughter, but had also spurned him. Her brittle words had raked across the iron shield he’d erected around his heart, but he’d felt the shockwaves of her contempt nonetheless.
“I’ll…uh…get our bags.” He back-stepped a few paces, tossed the car keys in the air and caught them smack in his palm.
“Whatever.” She flicked a wisp of hair flirting on her mouth and stared out to sea.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, asphyxiating the words between his fingers. “This is not going well.”
Julia remained a mystery, but the unveiling might prove an adventure, and thawing the ice-model an unexpected delight. His mouth twitched. Exactly what he’d thought when he first caught sight of her strolling the oceanfront boardwalk market nearly a year and a half ago after her photo shoot at the Acropolis. He stroked his chin with the car key. He’d gone further than a mere conquest then, and bound her to him in matrimony. She’d pulled a major stunt by ditching him—especially before he’d had a chance to explain—and definitely, it was time for a payoff.