She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon: The Kouvaris Marriage / The Greek Tycoon's Innocent Mistress / The Greek's Convenient Mistress

CHAPTER FIVE

SLEEP proved impossible. Tossing and turning, Maddie did what she’d vowed not to—relived every moment of the evening of that fateful party.

Faced with the bombshell that the great and the good of Greek society had been invited to meet her, as none of his friends or family had attended the simple marriage ceremony back in England, she had dressed with care in a simple cream silk shift—part of the trousseau Dimitri had insisted on providing for her on a two-day spending spree in London.

She’d done her best to circulate, but had felt a bit like a fish out of water amongst all those sophisticated, wealthy socialites. She had endured the endless questions, the minute scrutiny of her appearance, until finally she’d crept away, her head aching from the constant chatter, just wanting a few moments of peace and quiet to gather herself, locate the self-confidence that was gradually slipping away. She’d walked out onto one of the terraces, found a dark corner and perched on the stone balustrading.

But her peace and quiet had been short-lived, because Irini had appeared, looking fabulous in something ultrasophisticated and gold, her neck and hands dripping with jewels.

Instinctively her own hand had gone up to touch the sapphire pendant Dimitri had given her on their wedding day, saying it reminded him of her eyes—only reminded him, because no jewel could ever compete with the loveliness of her eyes. A pretty compliment that had warmed her heart then and comforted her now. His name and Irini’s had been coupled together, she knew that. But he had chosen her she reminded herself, on a burst of self-assurance.

Advancing, Irini had said smoothly, ‘I believe you English have a saying. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Very apt. You’d better make the most of your days of luxurious living. They’ll last only as long as it takes you to produce the Kouvaris heir. And with those big hips of yours it shouldn’t take you too long!’

She tilted her head on one side, her slight smile chillingly unkind, ignoring Maddie’s gasp of outrage. ‘You don’t believe me? Then let me tell you a story.’ Her voice clipped on, dripping with venom. ‘Once upon a time a wonderfully handsome Greek tycoon fell deeply in love with a beautiful Greek heiress. They longed to marry, but sadly the heiress had suffered an accident in early life that left her unable to give him a child. And a child was necessary. The handsome tycoon had no sibling to provide an heir. If he died childless then the vast family empire would pass into the careless hands of a distant cousin, a complete wastrel, or one of his fat, lazy sons. Such a sad dilemma!’

‘What’s this got to do with me?’ Maddie hated the way moonlight touched Irini’s face, making her look cold and vicious, hated the way her own mind was taking her, how easily this woman could knock her back.

‘Work it out for yourself.’ Irini moved closer, her voice lower. ‘No? Brain not agile enough? Then let me help you. In their desperation to marry, the lovers found a solution. Not ethical—’ she shrugged ‘—but then don’t they say all’s fair in love and war? He would look for a fertile woman—foreign, of course, not knowing our language or our customs. She would come from a humble background—from the sort of people who wouldn’t have the wit or the financial strength to make trouble. Marry her, produce a child and then divorce her. Keep his heir and marry the woman he loved. Simple? And no need to feel pity for the duped first wife. After all, if she couldn’t see beyond the end of her own nose, ask herself why a man such as he would want to marry a common, penniless nobody like her, act on it, then end the marriage and return to her peasant family in England, then she deserves all she gets.’

‘You’re mad!’ Maddie got out through lips that felt stiff and cold, shuddering as a goose walked over her grave. Did the ghastly woman really expect her to believe she was talking about herself and Dimitri? Dressing it up as some kind of sick fairy story? She wouldn’t let herself believe it.

Seeming to consider the accusation of insanity, Irini tipped her head to one side, then, pulling herself proudly to her slender height, gave her opinion. ‘Not mad. Simply unable to give him a child. If he were a bank clerk and I a shop assistant that would not matter. But in the circumstances—I advise you to think about it and consider your position.’ She smiled with a sweetness that sent shivers down Maddie’s spine and glided away, heading out of the shadows towards the light spilling from the windows of the mansion.

Maddie shot to her feet. She wouldn’t believe a word of that rubbish! She would get back to the party. Right now! Grab Dimitri, find Irini, and force the other woman to repeat that story in front of him! And the more people who witnessed her shame and humiliation the better!

She hadn’t got further than a handful of snappy paces towards her objective when Amanda appeared, silhouetted against the light from one of the open tall French windows that marched along the length of the terrace.

‘So there you are, Mads! I’ve been looking all over for you.’ She pattered forward. ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to you. And Cristos is whisking me off on an extended world cruise tomorrow—six months away—so we won’t be able to have a good old girlie chat for ages!’

A big hug, then Amanda held her at arm’s length. ‘What’s wrong, pet? Who’s rattled your cage?’

Relaxing just slightly from her bristling determination to make Irini repeat what she’d said to Dimitri, Maddie told her. She and Amanda had shared their feelings, hopes and fears since schooldays. When she came to a tight-lipped halt Amanda gave a low whistle of disbelief.

‘That woman’s a spiteful cow! I never heard such a load of garbage in my life!’ she vowed with vehement assurance. ‘She’s obviously jealous as hell. She’s always been potty about Dimitri, and everyone thought they’d marry eventually—until he showed good sense and fell in love with you. You know, I sort of guessed. When you went back to England he couldn’t stop asking questions. About you. Your family, where you lived, all that sort of stuff. Cristos thought he was smitten, too!’

Had he asked how many siblings she had? Checking up on the family’s fertility record? Guiltily, Maddie thrust that disloyal thought away, but she did confess, ‘He’s never said it.’

‘Said what?’ Amanda pleated her brow.

‘Told me he loved me.’ It had troubled her just a little, but she’d told herself not to be silly. He’d wanted to marry her, hadn’t he?

‘So?’ The other woman shrugged her pretty shoulders. ‘Listen, Dimitri lost both his parents in a dreadful sailing accident when he was just three years old. His aunt Alexandra moved in here and brought him up. She’s the achetypal cold fish. He was never shown any loving tenderness, according to Cristos, so it stands to reason that he finds it difficult to verbalise his feelings. But he married you, didn’t he? Take my advice, pet. Don’t go in there and stage a confrontation. He’d hate that kind of scene. And I wouldn’t mention any of it, if I were you. You’ve been married such a short time and you’re only just getting to really know each other. He’ll assume you didn’t trust him—no matter how often you say you didn’t believe a word of it! Trust in marriage is vital, especially when you’re dealing with a macho Greek male—believe me, I know!’ A final hug. ‘Tell him, if you still want to, a couple of years down the line, and he can cross her off his Christmas card list! Now, come on, let’s go and party—you’ve been missing for too long.’

‘So where exactly are you taking me?’

Lost in unhappy thoughts, it was the first time Maddie had spoken since boarding the company helicopter twenty minutes ago, sitting stubbornly tight-lipped, refusing even to look at him.

She loathed him for what he had done to her—was doing. Hated him with a passion that shocked her; she who had never hated another living soul in the whole of her life!

A week had passed since her return to Athens, and Dimitri had been away until late last evening. Leaving her to kick her heels and do her best to avoid Aunt Alexandra, who had made it perfectly clear she didn’t want her there.

On that first morning the housekeeper had informed her that he and Irini had left at dawn, and that while he was absent Kyria Kouvaris was to think of her parents.

A message Anna plainly hadn’t understood but Maddie most definitely had. Do another runner and her parents could kiss goodbye to any hope of moving onto the neighbouring farm at the end of the month.

The warning that their new home, the business they hoped to expand, would be taken from them some time in the not too distant future would have to be given, of course. But not yet. Not until her father was stronger and could deal with the stress. Almost daily phone calls to her mother had confirmed that he was still taking things easily but got easily tired. He was looking forward to moving into the farm—a move her brothers would oversee, down to the last teacup.

She shifted restively in her seat now and Dimitri said, ‘We’re going to spend a few weeks on my private island.’

The eventual response was tight-lipped, and Maddie didn’t comment. She was as unsurprised that a Greek tycoon should own his own island as she’d been to learn that he’d taken off with Irini Zinovieff.

What had they been doing during that week—apart from the obvious? she questioned wretchedly, increasingly wired up inside. Discussing how best to deal with a recalcitrant wife—a wife who should be providing him with an heir but plainly had no intention of doing so?

And had they come up with some plan of action? Bitten the bullet and decided that he must expend his considerable charm and sexual magnetism to get her into bed again and conceive the child that was so necessary to their plans? Was that why he had returned from his idyll with Irini looking so grim and drained?

Well, he could try. And get no place fast, she vowed, bitterly ashamed of the way her heart turned over inside her breast at the very thought of sharing a bed again with her sinfully wilful, drop-dead sexy husband.

A shame that lasted until the pilot put them down on a smooth area of flower-dotted grass a hundred yards from a stone-built villa, when deep apprehension took over, abating just a little as two figures emerged from the side of the building, male and female, stocky, dark, and beaming all over their seamed nut-brown faces.

Coming down to land, she’d seen no sign of a village or a harbour, just a seemingly impenetrable rocky coastline, steep-sided fields, wooded hillsides, and occasional flashes of silver where streams tumbled through ravines down to the silky azure sea.

Fear of being alone with him gripped her, doubly intense because she knew how easily he could, if he wanted to, cleave through her defences as if they were weaker than ill-set jelly, and drive her wild with sexual excitement, with wanting him, needing him, only him.

But the appearance of the approaching couple made her let out a shaky breath of relief. A least she and Dimitri wouldn’t be completely alone here.

Relief, when it concerned Dimitri Kouvaris, had a habit of being short-lived. A lesson rammed home when he imparted coolly, ‘Yiannis and Xanthe caretake for me. In return they have their own home and a small farm on the opposite side of the island. I warn you, they don’t speak a single word of English. So if you’re planning on begging a boat ride with them back to the mainland it’s not going to happen.’ He proceeded to greet the couple warmly in his own language. His smile was the one she remembered from the days of her happiness, producing a deep ache in her heart for what might have been, had he loved her and not simply used her for his own devious ends.

Yiannis and his stout wife Xanthe obviously thought the sun rose and set with Dimitri Kouvaris, Maddie thought sourly. But she couldn’t blame them. Hadn’t she been completely bowled over by his effortless charm? So who was she to harbour scorn?

Introductions were made, and Maddie submitted to having both her hands clasped with enthusiasm and returning smiles until her face ached, not understanding a word of what was being said to her.

She was sorry to see the friendly couple go, gathering the luggage the pilot had unloaded and carrying it to the villa, where the main door stood open in welcome. She followed them slowly, leaving Dimitri to exchange a few words with the company pilot.

The heat was intense. Her denim jeans and T-shirt were sticking to her body, and her hair felt heavy and damp on her forehead and the nape of her neck. Inside her breast her heart was heavy. She had no firm idea why Dimitri had brought her to this isolated place, just uneasy suspicions, and she knew she wouldn’t like it, whatever it was.

‘We could both use a shower.’ He had caught up with her, shortened his pace to match hers. Pandering to her northern wilting in the face of the fierce Mediterranean heat? Unaffected, he looked as fresh as a daisy, crisp and cool in stone-coloured chinos and a similarly coloured cotton open-necked shirt.

So she was hot, sweaty, bulgy in the hip and bosom department, and couldn’t hold a candle to the cool, elegant sophistication of his lover, who had probably never even gently perspired in the whole of her pampered life. But there was no need to rub it in! Too hot and bothered, too incensed by her own interpretation of his remarks she didn’t respond, simply questioned sharply, ‘So why are we here?’

For a moment there was silence but for the sound of their footfalls on the paved area beyond the flowerjewelled grass. Then, ‘It is generally believed that we are enjoying the honeymoon you were denied three months ago.’ If he sounded sour, he couldn’t help it. He’d been working all hours towards getting a new business regime on track, towards freeing him up to surprise her with a three-month honeymoon—anywhere in the world she fancied, her choice. This— this confrontation over her wish to end their marriage—was the last thing he’d wanted.

The scornful objection she would have lobbed at him died in her throat as she lanced a glare at him. There was a gritty edginess to his unforgettable features, tension in the line of his mouth betraying inner turmoil.

Did he dislike the situation as much as she did? Was his plan to get her pregnant, provide him with the heir he needed, beginning to sicken him, too? To his dynastic way of thinking an heir was all-important. During their short and head-spinning courtship he had often spoken of his desire to have a family—a desire she had matched back then with a retrospectively cringe-making enthusiasm.

Was there yet another side to this need of his? A long entrenched, driving need for a family of his own because from an early age he hadn’t had one? Losing both his parents at such an early age and being brought up by his aunt Alexandra wouldn’t have been a bed of roses. As far as Maddie could tell, and backed up by what Cristos had said to Amanda, the old lady didn’t have an affectionate or compassionate bone in her body.

The odd shift in her mood kept her silent while he escorted her through the house. The cool tiled rooms with vaulted high ceilings contrasted with the heat outside, and the wide white marble staircase with its delicate cast-iron banisters soared up to airy corridors and the room the honeymooning couple would share.

The suitcases had been unpacked, and Xanthe was putting the last of the garments in a vast hanging cupboard, full of smiles, bobs and many words as she made her exit. Not giving the room even a cursory glance, Maddie waited until the door had closed behind the caretaker, then said, ‘I know we need to talk—about the divorce.’ Her face reddened beneath the chilling impassivity of his gaze but she struggled on, disadvantaged by his seeming indifference to what she was trying to say. It made her feel like a low-grade employee asking for a rise in wages she had done nothing to earn. ‘But we could have done it in Athens without putting on this farce.’

‘So we could. If there were any question of an immediate divorce.’

He was closing that door. Again. The word immediate induced panic. She would get her divorce when it suited him. When she had given him an heir. And if he pulled out all the stops to make it happen, then manufactured evidence to prove she was an unfit mother, a feckless wife, she would lose her child, her sense of self-worth, and in all probability her parents and two of her brothers would lose their home and their livelihood. Because if he were as unprincipled and callous as to hoodwink her into a short-term, no pain no gain marriage he wouldn’t think twice about pulling the rug from under her family’s feet once the need for blackmail was over.

Her feeling of sympathy for his loveless upbringing, his lack of close family, vanished like a snowflake falling on hot coals. He had strolled over to open the louvres on one of the tall windows that marched down the length of the room. As insouciant as all-get-out, he turned to face her, his hands in the pockets of his chinos, pulling the fabric tight against his hips.

Giving her a glinting look she couldn’t read, he drawled, ‘Tell me, why do you want a divorce?’

Her face crawling with colour, because that stance shouted animal magnetism and she wanted to be immune but wasn’t, she shot back, ‘Because I don’t want to be married to you! Haven’t I made that plain?’

‘I think not. I think you don’t entirely know what you do want.’

He had moved closer now. Golden eyes smouldered, transfixing her like a rabbit in the headlights of an oncoming car.

‘I think—’ And the thought had only just occurred to him, making him feel as if he’d received a hefty thump in the gut. Had she been in two minds when she’d left him? Half wanting to get her greedy hands on a handsome slice of alimony, the other half regretting the unlimited sex she’d so obviously enjoyed as his wife?

Even now she was giving off provocative vibes. Those emminently kissable lips were parted, her eyes a sultry gleam of sapphire beneath dense dark lashes, the dampened fabric of her T-shirt was clinging to her spectacular breasts—

Theos!

His hard, lean features rigid, Dimitri blanked off that train of thought. The little witch could turn him on without even trying! Pushing his thoughts into less troubled waters, he let his eyes meet hers with controlled intensity. ‘You were a virgin when we married. Having sex with me opened up a whole new unguessed-at world of sensation. Sensation you were always eager to indulge in.’

Maddie clasped her hands behind her back to stop herself from hitting him. ‘Are you trying to make some sort of point?’ she flung at him, loathing him for making her sound like a budding nymphomaniac, and caught her breath in outrage as he gave her another slice of his twisted mind.

‘In the process of trying to see inside your pretty head, I am merely stating facts and my suppositions arising from them, since you refuse to tell me why you ran out on our marriage, leaving me trying to make sense of it. You married me. Why? For the life of luxury you knew I could give you? And then, after you experienced it, for the sex?’

Mortified beyond belief, Maddie couldn’t speak—couldn’t say a word in her own defence. Not only a gold-digger but a nymphomaniac, too!

And there was more. A grim cast to his mouth, he queried flatly, ‘Did you make your wedding vows already scheming to sue for divorce after a few months? To secure yourself a slice of alimony that would enable you to lead a life of luxury? And when the time came to carry it out did you realise that you would miss the only other thing you valued in our marriage? The sex.’

‘You are so sick!’ Maddie spat out in immediate and instinctive repudiation, struggling to understand why he was doing this. Shouldn’t he be doing what she had most feared? Sweet-talking her, coaxing her back into the marital bed and trying to convince her that their marriage was viable, instead of accusing her of the most horrible things?