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She braced her shoulders. Well, that was all to the good. Obviously sentiment—despite her uncle’s fairy-tale ramblings about how wonderful it would be for her to be married to so handsome and eligible a man as Theo Theakis—had nothing to do with why the man standing in front of her had informed Aristides Fournatos that he would be interested in marrying her.
Even as she formed the thought in her head, she had to cut it out straight away. ‘Marriage’ and ‘Theo Theakis’ in one sentence was an oxymoron of the highest order.
‘Won’t you sit down?’
The dark-timbred voice sent its usual uneasy frisson down her spine. She wished it wouldn’t do that. She also wished she wasn’t so ludicrously responsive to the damn man the whole time. It had been the same all the way through that Mozart concert he’d taken her to, when she’d sat in constrained silence during the music and made even more constrained small talk during the interval. She’d been dreading he’d suggest going for supper afterwards, and had been thankful that he had simply returned her back to her uncle’s house, bidding her a formal good night. Since then she’d seen him a handful of times more, each encounter increasing her annoying awareness of his masculinity. His company disturbed her, and she kept out of any conversation that included him as much as possible. She also did her best to ignore the speculative looks and murmurs that she realised were directed towards them whenever they were together.
Now, of course, she knew just what they had been speculating about.
Well, it was time to put a stop to this nonsense right away.
She sat herself down in the chair Theo Theakis was indicating, just in front of his desk, and crossed her legs, suddenly wishing the skirt she had on was longer and looser.
‘I take it your uncle has spoken to you?’
Her eyes went to him. His face was impassive as he took his seat again, but his eyes seemed watchful.
Vicky nodded. She took a breath.
‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ she began, and saw the slightest gleam start in the dark eyes. ‘But what on earth is going on?’ She eyed him frankly; it seemed the best thing to do. It took more energy than she liked.
He studied her a moment, as if assessing her, and she found it took even more effort to hold his gaze. Then, after what seemed like an age, he spoke.
‘If you were completely Greek, or had been brought up here, you would not be asking that question.’ He quirked one eyebrow with a sardonic gesture. ‘You would not, of course, even be here, at this moment, alone with me in my office. But I appreciate I must make allowances for your circumstances.’
Automatically Vicky could feel her hackles start to bristle, but he went smoothly on, leaning back in his imposing leather chair.
‘Very well, let me explain to you just what, as you say, is going on. Tell me,’ he said, and the glint was visible in his eyes again, ‘how au fait are you with the Greek financial press?’
The bristles down Vicky’s spine stiffened, and deliberately she did not answer.
‘As I assumed,’ Theo Theakis returned smoothly. ‘You will, therefore, be unaware that there is currently a hostile bid in the market for your uncle’s company. Without boring you with the ways of stock market manoeuvrings, one way to defend against such an attack is for another company to take a non-hostile financial interest in the target company. This is currently the subject of discussion between your uncle and myself.’
‘Are you going to do it?’ Vicky asked bluntly.
She could see his eyes veil. ‘As I said, it is a subject of current discussion,’ he replied.
She looked him straight in the eyes. ‘I don’t see what on earth this has to do with the insane conversation I’ve just had with him!’ she launched robustly.
Did his face tighten? She didn’t know and didn’t care.
‘Your uncle is a traditionalist,’ observed Theo Theakis. ‘As such, he considers it appropriate for close financial relationships to be underpinned by close familial ones. A Fournatos-Theakis marriage would be the obvious conclusion.’
Vicky took a deep breath.
‘Mr Theakis,’ she said, ‘this is the most idiotic thing I’ve heard in all my life. Two complete strangers don’t just marry because one of them is doing financial deals with the other’s uncle! Either there’s something more going on than I can spot, or else you’re as…unreal…as my uncle! Why on earth don’t you just do whatever you intend financially, and get on with it? I’ve got nothing to do with any of this!’
His expression changed. She could see a plain reaction in it now.
‘Unfortunately that is not so.’ His voice was crisper, almost abrupt, and the light in his eye had steeled. ‘Answer me this question, if you please. How attached are you to your uncle?’
‘He’s been very kind to me, and apart from my mother he is my only living blood relative,’ Vicky replied stiffly. She felt under attack and didn’t know why—but she knew she didn’t like it.
‘Then you have a perfect way to acknowledge that,’ came the blunt reply. He leant forward in his seat, and automatically Vicky found herself backing into her chair. ‘Aristides Fournatos is a traditionalist, as I said. He is also a proud man. His company is under severe and imminent threat of a hostile acquisition, and his room to manoeuvre against it is highly limited. To put it bluntly, I can save his company for him with a show of confidence and financial strength which will reassure his wavering major institutional shareholders because he is backed by the Theakis Corp. Now, personally, I am more than happy to do that, for a variety of reasons. Hostile bids are seldom healthy for the company acquired, and the would-be acquirer in this instance is known as an asset-stripper, which will dismember the Fournatos group to maximise revenues and award their own directors massive pay rises and stock options. In short, it will pick it apart like a vulture, and I would not want that to happen to any company, let alone Fournatos. However, my reasons for helping to stave off this attack are also personal. My father was close friends with Aristides, and for that reason alone I would not stand by and watch him lose the company to such marauders.’
‘But why does that have to involve anything other than a financial deal between you and my uncle?’ persisted Vicky.
Cool, dark and quite unreadable eyes rested on her.
‘How do you feel about accepting charity, may I ask?’ Vicky could feel her hackles rising again, but the deep-timbred voice continued. ‘Aristides Fournatos does not wish to accept my financial support for his company without offering something in return.’
‘How about offering you some Fournatos shares?’ said Vicky.
Theo Theakis’s expression remained unreadable.
‘Your uncle wishes to offer more.’ There was a pause—a distinct one, Vicky felt. Then Theo Theakis spoke again, as if choosing his next words with care. ‘As you know, your uncle has no heir. You are his closest relative. This is why he wishes to cement my offer of support to him at this time with marriage to yourself.’
‘You’re willing to marry me so you can get his company when he dies?’ Vicky demanded. If there was scorn in her voice she didn’t bother to hide it.
The dark eyes flashed, and the sculpted mouth tightened visibly.
‘I’m willing to enter into a marriage with you to make it easier for Aristides to accept my offer to save his company from ruin.’ The sardonic look was back in his eyes now. ‘Believe me when I say that I would prefer your uncle to accept it unconditionally. However—’he held up an abrupt hand ‘—your uncle’s pride and his self-respect have already taken a battering by allowing his company to be exposed to such danger in the first place. I would not wish to look ungracious at what he is proposing. For him, this is a perfect solution all round. His pride is salved, his self-respect intact, his company is defended, its future is secured. And as for yourself—’ the dark eyes glinted again, and Vicky could feel a very strange sensation starting up in her insides ‘—your future will also be settled in a fashion that your uncle, standing as he feels himself to do in the place of your late father, considers ideal—marriage to a man to whom he can safely entrust you.’
Vicky got to her feet. ‘Mr Theakis,’ she started heavily, ‘you seriously must be living on another planet if you think for a moment that I—’
‘Sit down, if you please.’
The instruction was tersely issued. Abruptly, Vicky sat, and then was annoyed with herself that she had.
‘Thespinis Fournatos—somewhere between your intemperate reaction, your uncle’s very understandable desires and my own unwillingness to stand by helplessly while your uncle’s company is taken over we must reach an agreement acceptable to all. Therefore what I propose is this.’ His gaze levelled with hers, and he placed his hands flat on the arms of his chair. ‘We enter into a formal marriage in the private but mutual understanding that it will be of very limited duration—sufficient merely to see your uncle through this current crisis and satisfy public and social decencies. I believe that when your uncle has his company safe again he will accept the dissolution of our brief marriage and will come to other arrangements for the long-term future of the Fournatos group. If you have the regard for your uncle which you say you have, then you will agree to this proposal.’
Emotions roiled heavily in Vicky’s breast. One was resentment at being spoken to as if she were a mix between a simpleton and an ingrate. The other was more complex—and at the same time a lot more simple.
She didn’t want to marry Theo Theakis. Not for any reason, period. The very idea was absurd and ludicrous and insane. It was also—
She veered her thoughts away. Pulled her eyes away from him. She didn’t like sitting here, this close to him, alone in his huge office. Theo Theakis disturbed her, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.
She forced herself to look at him again. He was still levelling that impassive, unreadable gaze on her, but she could see, deep at the back of his eyes, the glint in it. There was antagonism there, and something else, too, and she liked that least of all.
She jumped to her feet again. This time Theo Theakis did not order her to sit down. She clutched her handbag to her chest and spoke.
‘I don’t believe there isn’t a different way to deal with this,’ she said. ‘There just has to be!’
And then she walked out.
The problem was, it was one thing to march out of Theo Theakis’s executive office in umbrage, but quite another to face her uncle again. It was evident, she realised with a sinking heart, that as far as he was concerned of course she would be marrying the man she now knew would be saving his company. That Aristides had kept this information from her only fuelled her sorrow. The awful thing was that, had it not been for her visit to Theo and his brutal explanation of the cruel facts, she would have had no hesitation in telling Aristides, as gently as she could, that she could not possibly entertain the idea of marrying a man who was virtually a stranger. Let alone one who caused such a frisson of hyper-awareness in her every time she set eyes on him.
But because she now knew just how vital it was for her uncle to be able to wrap up Theo Theakis’s financial help in a dynastic marriage, she simply could not do it.
Yet how could she possibly agree to such a marriage? It was out of the question! Even if it was limited to the superficial temporary marriage of convenience that Theo Theakis was advocating.
I can’t possibly marry him! It’s absurd, ludicrous, ridiculous…
But even though those were the words she deliberately used to describe such a marriage, she could feel her resistance being eroded. The more closely she studied her uncle’s face, the more she could see the web of anxiety in it, the fear haunting the back of his eyes. For him, it seemed, everything depended on her accepting this marriage proposal. And as far as her uncle was concerned, Vicky could see, no young woman in her right mind would dream of turning it down! It offered everything—a husband who was not just extremely wealthy but magnetically attractive, who was lusted after by all other females, and held in respect and esteem by all men. What on earth was there to turn down? To her uncle, he was an ideal husband…
It was a clash of worlds, she knew. Her modern world, where you married for love and romance, and his, where you married for family, financial security and social suitability. A clash that could not be resolved—or explained. Every instinct told her that she could not—should not—do what her uncle wanted. And yet her heart squeezed. If she turned down this marriage proposal—even on the terms that Theo Theakis was offering her—the consequences for her uncle would be catastrophic.
I can’t do it to him! I can’t let him go under! But I can’t possibly marry a man I don’t know, for any reason whatsoever! But if I don’t, then my uncle will be ruined…
Round and round the dilemma went in her head, making dinner that evening a gruelling ordeal. Vicky was horribly aware of the expectant-yet-anxious expression that was constantly in her uncle’s eyes, both day and night, and she herself endured a fitful, sleepless night. And so it was with a sense of escape the following morning that she took a telephone call from London.
But her pleasure in hearing Jem’s voice swiftly turned to dismay. She had left the running of Freshstart to him while she was in Greece, but before the phone call was over she realised it had been a mistake. Jem was great with kids—he could make emotional contact with the most troubled teenager—but as an organiser and administrator he was, she had to admit, poor.
‘I’m really sorry, Vicky, but it seems I didn’t get that grant application in on time and the deadline has passed. Now we can’t apply again till next year.’ Jem’s voice was apologetic. ‘They were shorthanded with the kids, so I went to help out, and then I was out of time to get the form into the post.’
Vicky suppressed a sigh of irritation. Even with the money her father had left, the charity needed every penny it could raise, and the grant she’d been counting on getting would have gone a long way. Now she had even more on her plate to worry about, despite the unbelievable situation she found herself in here in Greece.
However, soon her attention had to return to that, when, shortly after she’d finished speaking to Jem, there was another phone call for her.
It was Theo Theakis.
‘I would like you to join me for lunch,’ he informed her with minimal preamble, and told her the name of the restaurant and the time he wanted her to be there. Then he hung up. Vicky stared at the phone resentfully, wishing the man to perdition.
All the same, she presented herself at the designated location at the appointed hour, and slid into her seat as Theo Theakis got to his feet at her approach. Instinctively, she avoided anything but the briefest eye contact with him, and self-consciously ignored the various speculative glances that were obviously coming their way.
Her lunch partner wasted little time in getting to the point.
‘I do not wish to harass you, but a decision from you on the matter under consideration is needed without delay,’ he began, as soon as the waiter had taken their orders. ‘The marauding company has just acquired another tranche of shares. Other shareholders are clearly wavering. Unless a very clear signal is sent to them imminently to say that I am aligning myself with Aristides they will start to sell out in critical numbers. So…’ His dark eyes rested on her without expression. ‘Once again I must ask you whether you are prepared to accept the recommendation I made to you yesterday.’
She could feel her hands tensing in her lap.
‘There has to be another way of—’ she began tightly.
‘There isn’t.’ Theo Theakis’s voice was brusque. ‘If there were, I would take it. However, if you are still of the same mind as you were yesterday afternoon—’ again Vicky could hear the note of critical condemnation in his voice, and it raised her hackles automatically ‘—then allow me to mention something that was omitted from our exchange then.’
He paused a moment, and Vicky made herself meet his eyes. They were quite opaque, but there was something in them that was even more disturbing than usual. She wanted to look away, but grimly she held on.
He started to speak again.
‘Because of your upbringing in England I appreciate that the concept of a dynastic marriage such as your uncle hopes for is very alien to you. However…’ He paused again minutely, as if deciding whether to say what he went on to say. ‘There is another aspect of such arrangements which your lack of familiarity with them might require me to make plain to you. It is the matter of the marriage settlement. Although the issue is complicated by the matter of the threat to your uncle’s company, nevertheless in simplistic terms the outcome for yourself would be a sum of money set aside—in the form, if you like, of a dowry. No, do not interrupt me, if you please—I appreciate you find the term archaic, but that is irrelevant.’
He broke off while the sommelier approached with the wine he had chosen for lunch, and went through the ritual of tasting it, approving it with a curt assent. Then he continued. There was a slightly different tone to his voice as he spoke now. A smooth note had entered it, and Vicky felt it like a rich, dark emollient over her nerve-endings.
‘It must be hard for you,’ Theo Theakis said, as he contemplatively took a mouthful of the wine, setting back the glass on the table but never taking his eyes from her. ‘Staying with your uncle and appreciating, perhaps for the first time, just how very different your life would have been had your father not been of the philanthropic disposition that he so abundantly was. In the light of that, therefore, and in respect of the sum of money I alluded to, which in the event of a normal marriage would remain with me, I am prepared, since I am proposing a highly limited marriage, to release this sum to you on the dissolution of the marriage.’ His veiled gaze rested on her. ‘Additionally, I am willing to make you an advance on this sum at the outset of our temporary marriage. The figure I have in mind is this.’
He named a sum of money that made Vicky swallow. It was about three times the amount of the grant that Jem had just failed to apply for.
Her mind raced. With that money they could…
She dragged her thoughts away from all the things that Freshstart could spend that kind of money on, and back to the man sitting opposite her, in his superbly tailored business suit, with his dark, sable hair and his opaque, unreadable eyes that nevertheless seemed to send a frisson through her that went right down to her bones.
‘Well?’
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
‘The final sum released to you when our marriage ends would be twice as much again,’ he said, into the silence.
Twice as much?
What we could do with such a sum!
She stared, unseeing for a moment, ahead of her, oblivious even of the disturbing figure opposite her. What would her father have done? She could not remember him, but her mother had told her so much about him.
‘He gave away his inheritance to those who needed it. He didn’t think twice about it.’
Her mother’s well-recalled words echoed in her head. She felt her throat tighten. What should she do? If she went ahead with this insane idea she could not only save her uncle’s company, but inject into her father’s charity a sum of money that would help so many children blighted by poverty and wrecked families…
But I’d have to marry Theo Theakis…
Slowly her eyes refocussed on the man sitting at the far side of the table. The familiar frisson went through her.
If he were just an ordinary person I could do it…
But he wasn’t—that was the problem. He was a man like no other she had ever encountered, and to whom she reacted as she had never done in her life before.
It’s too dangerous…
The words formed in her mind and etched into her brain cells.
No—it didn’t have to be dangerous! In fact—she pressed her lips together determinedly—it was absurd to even think of that word. Absurd because it didn’t matter that she reacted so strongly to Theo Theakis. The point was that he was not reacting to her at all! It was all on her part, and if she just succeeded in keeping a totally tight lid on the way he affected her then she could just go ahead and…
She inhaled sharply. Good God, was she really thinking what she was thinking? Was she really, seriously thinking that she could go ahead with this insane scheme? Surely to God she couldn’t be?
Yet she could feel her mouth shaping words, hear them sounding low across the table, coming from somewhere she didn’t want to think about.
‘How long would we have to stay married?’
The phone on her desk was ringing, and Vicky heard it from a long, long way away. Sucked down into the past. Painfully, she dragged her mind back to the present—the present in which frustration and bitter anger warred in equal proportions.
‘How long would we have to stay married?’
The fateful question she had posed that day over lunch reverberated in her head. It had been the moment that she had mentally acceded to the idea of entering into the kind of marriage that Theo Theakis had outlined to her. She’d known that even at the time.
And he’d started to cheat her from that very moment! Because the kind of marriage he’d outlined had been nothing, nothing like it had turned out to be!
He cheated me right from the start—and he went on cheating me right to the end! The brutal, merciless end…
Anger buckled through her again. Oh, Theo Theakis might have paid out upfront all right—the money he’d said was an advance on what he would make over to her when they were finally free to end their marriage—but as for the rest of it…
It’s mine! He promised it to me—it’s not his to keep!
He’s got no business hanging on to it! Just because I…
The insistent ringing of the phone finally broke through her angry reverie. She snatched it up.
‘Yes?’ she said tersely.
The voice that answered was accented, formal, and studied.
‘This is Demetrious Xanthou. I am aide to Theo Theakis. He has instructed me to inform you that he will receive you this evening. If you will be so good as to give me your address, I will arrange a car for 8:00 p.m.’
For ten seconds Vicky went totally still. But the emotions that warred in her were not tranquil. Turmoil seethed in her. Haltingly, hardly able to concentrate, she gave her address. Then, hand shaking only very slightly, she set the phone down.
She stared ahead blindly for a moment. Then her face set again, and a grim, ruthless expression entered her eyes.
She was finally going to get her face-to-face with the man who had rent her limb from limb with his savage words. Well, she wouldn’t care about that now—she had one thing only in her sights.
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