The Greek's Convenient Wife

CHAPTER TWO

MADDISON had never known a week to go so quickly. As each day unfolded her panic grew steadily inside her until she began to feel as if she were on death row, waiting for the next cock’s crow to herald her imminent demise.

She hadn’t wasted the time available to her but had tried everything in her power to extricate herself from the clutches of Demetrius Papasakis—to no avail. As if to deliberately intensify her desperate circumstances, she had received a flood of bills in the space of days, one of which was a hefty speeding fine of her brother’s which she knew he wouldn’t be able to pay.

She spent a miserable weekend trying to think of a way out of her difficulties but in the end had to admit she was well and truly trapped. Her modest income from the second hand bookstore where she worked would hardly cover Kyle’s speeding ticket let alone a million-and-a-half dollar boat.

However, when she arrived at the bookstore on the Monday morning she received an even bigger shock. Her boss, Hugo McGill, looked at her over the top of his reading glasses, his white whiskers moving up and down restively.

‘Maddison, I have some unfortunate news.’

Cold dread trickled into her stomach at his ominous tone.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, not sure she really wanted to know.

‘I’m afraid I’m selling up.’

She blinked at him for a second or two. ‘This is rather sudden, isn’t it?’

‘Yes and no,’ he answered. ‘I’ve wanted a change for ages but I felt I should wait until I got a good price for the place. I had an offer at the weekend and, to put it rather bluntly, it was too good to refuse.’

She sat back in her chair as the realisation of her circumstances dawned. ‘I suppose the new owner has no plans to keep the business running?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘The building is going to be demolished to make way for a hotel.’

‘A hotel?’ She gaped at him.

‘A luxury one,’ Hugo said proudly as if somehow that made it better. ‘The fruit shop and the bakery have been sold as well to make room for it.’

Maddison had never felt so angry in all her twenty-four years. She knew without asking who was behind this sudden redevelopment plan but a perverse desire to hear her boss articulate the name urged her on.

‘Do you happen to know who’s behind this purchase?’

‘Yes, the Greek billionaire, Demetrius Papasakis. He was in the papers at the weekend over the loss of his boat. Did you happen to see it?’

‘No.’ She shifted her gaze uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t have time to look at the papers.’

‘It seems his luxury yacht was sabotaged one night last week.’

‘Did he say who he suspected of doing it?’ she asked, carefully avoiding his eye.

‘Not in so many words, but he did say he had the matter in hand. I feel sorry for whoever did it, to tell you the truth. Demetrius Papasakis is not the sort of enemy I would go out of my way to attract.’

‘I’m sure there are lots of people who would agree with you,’ she answered wryly.

‘He’s got an edge of cold ruthlessness about him,’ Hugo continued. ‘But I suppose when he’s got that amount of money who’s going to challenge him?’

‘Who indeed?’

‘Anyway, I’m sorry about your job. You’ve been a good girl, Maddison. I’ll write you a decent reference and if I hear of anything you might be interested in I’ll call you. I know it’s terribly short notice but business is business as they say.’

She gave him a wan smile as she pushed in the chair she’d been sitting on. ‘Yes, it certainly is.’

Maddison had six hours to get through before she announced her decision. She glanced at her watch repeatedly, her heart hammering with every passing minute as she thought about the phone call she had to make by five p.m.

She left the bookshop at four-thirty, surprising herself at her detached attitude as she walked away from it without a backward glance. She searched for a public telephone at four-forty-five, but each one she came to was out of order. She stood on yet another street corner and nibbled at the rough edge of a fingernail as she thought about what to do. In the end she decided a phone call was the cowardly thing to do, that the best way to approach the situation was head on. She wasn’t going to relay her message to Demetrius Papasakis via his secretary; she was going to have it out with him face-to-face.

She rummaged in her bag for the business card he’d given her and quickly memorised the address of his office tower, relieved to find she had just enough time to get there on foot if she hurried. She arrived somewhat breathlessly outside the imposing building in the north of the city, her hair sticking to the back of her neck and her white blouse clinging to her back where beads of nervous perspiration had collected. She brushed an errant strand out of her face and stabbed her finger at the call button of the lifts, trying to ignore the distinct flutter of unease in her belly.

The lift swept her up to the administration floor where she encountered a middle-aged woman guarding the reception desk.

‘Can I help you?’ the woman asked in a haughty tone.

Maddison brushed another wayward strand out of her face.

‘I’m here to see Mr Papasakis.’

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘No, not really. I was supposed to call him, but at the last minute I decided to come in person. My name is Maddison Jones.’

The woman’s eyes swept over her. ‘You’re Miss Jones?’

‘That’s correct.’ Maddison lifted her chin in a token gesture of pride.

She didn’t care for the look the secretary was giving her, as if she was the last person anyone would expect Demetrius Papasakis to be associated with. She suffered no illusions about her out-of-date clothes and scuffed shoes, but she knew her figure was nothing to be ashamed of, even if her hair needed brushing and her lips a touch of gloss.

‘I’ll let him know you’re here.’ The woman reached for the intercom on her desk.

‘Thank you,’ Maddison responded politely.

She heard the deep burr of Demetrius’s voice on the machine as she stood waiting, and glancing at the clock on the wall saw the second hand tick down the remaining seconds—ten, nine, eight, seven…

‘He’ll see you now,’ the woman said, interrupting her quiet panic.

She followed the woman’s directions to his office and gave the solid door one small sharp knock.

‘Come.’

She opened the door and her eyes immediately went to his seated figure behind the huge expanse of his desk.

He got to his feet with languid grace and greeted her. ‘Maddison, and right on time too.’

She didn’t answer but stood in front of his desk with a fiery look in her clear blue gaze.

Demetrius couldn’t help feeling faintly amused. She was so touchingly defiant, pretending she wasn’t intimidated when she very clearly was. It intrigued him in a way. Most of the women he’d been involved with would have jumped at the chance to wear his ring and yet here she was looking as if he’d asked her to walk the plank above an ocean full of sharks.

He indicated the chair for her to sit on with a sweep of his hand.

‘Please, take a seat.’

‘I’d rather stand,’ she said through stiff lips.

‘As you wish.’ He sat back down and picked up a pen off his desk and gave it a click. ‘Have you come to a decision regarding my proposal?’

‘I’m surprised you still have the gall to call it a proposal,’ she said. ‘I would prefer the term blackmail.’

‘Blackmail is a strong word.’ He gave his pen another audible click. ‘I’d like to remind you now that you can walk out of that door at any point and accept the consequences.’

She tightened her spine at his chilling warning.

‘But you’ve made it impossible for me to do so, haven’t you?’ She eyeballed him directly.

‘I take it you’re referring to my real estate dealings over the weekend?’ He leant back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk in an indolent pose that made the blood simmer in her veins.

‘You did it deliberately, didn’t you? To flush me out like a rat down a drainpipe.’

‘Not quite the metaphor I would have chosen, but it will suffice, I suppose.’

‘You’re totally sick!’

‘I’ll take that as a ‘‘no’’ then?’ His dark gaze glinted with lazy amusement.

She clenched and unclenched her fists in an effort to keep control.

‘I’m going to make you a promise, Mr Papasakis, one that I hope you won’t forget.’

‘You intrigue me.’ The corner of his mouth lifted sardonically. ‘Pray tell me what delightful pledge you have in store.’

Her eyes flashed with fire. ‘I will marry you, but you will live to regret it; I’m going to make absolutely certain of that.’

He lifted his feet off the desk in one easy movement and stood up, straightening to his full height as he came around the desk to her side. She stood her ground determinedly, but on the inside she was shaking and was sure he was aware of it.

‘You and whose army?’ He reached out and touched her flaming cheek with one idle finger.

She jerked her head out of his reach and glared up at him.

‘Mock me all you like but I’ll be the one laughing in the end,’ she promised.

‘How absolutely terrifying you are when aroused.’

‘I’m not aroused!’ She stamped her foot at him. ‘I’m angry, blindingly so!’

‘Come now, Maddison.’ He caught her upper arms with his hands and held her gently but firmly. ‘Why not give in with good grace? You’ll be the envy of single women everywhere. A rich husband, all the clothes and trinkets you want in exchange for a few months of your time. What more could you ask?’

‘I could ask for a lot more in a husband,’ she threw at him coldly. ‘Being tied to an unprincipled playboy is not my idea of nuptial bliss, nor is the prospect of being a laughing stock when you carry on with your perfidious behaviour behind my back.’

‘It won’t be behind your back,’ he said. ‘I’ve already informed you of the terms of our agreement.’

‘Your double standards make me sick!’

‘No doubt they are a little distasteful, but that’s the deal. I can’t have people wondering why my wife is having a bit on the side; it’s not good for my reputation.’

‘I can’t believe your arrogance,’ she spat.

His hands on her arms tightened momentarily.

‘I also can’t have my wife calling me names, is that understood?’

She met his implacable look with defiance. ‘I won’t be your wife for long.’

‘No, but while you are you’ll do as you’re told.’

She gritted her teeth against the string of invectives on her tongue.

‘You’d much rather be my temporary wife than see your brother go to prison, wouldn’t you?’ he added when she didn’t speak.

‘I’d much rather like to see you rot in prison,’ she ground out.

‘Answer me, Maddison.’ He tilted her chin to meet his eyes. ‘Tell me how much you’d rather be married to me than see your brother’s future go up in smoke.’

She hadn’t thought it was possible to hate another person so much as she did him at that moment. Her blood thrummed with it, thundering in her ears as she felt every last remnant of her pride being stripped away by his ruthlessness.

‘I…I don’t want to see Kyle go to prison,’ she bit out.

‘And the rest?’

‘And…and I’d rather be your temporary…wife.’

He smiled one of his hateful smiles and her palm itched to wipe it from his face. He lowered his mouth towards hers in a slow motion movement which should have been enough warning for her to get out of the way but somehow wasn’t. She closed her eyes as his lips connected with hers, surprised at how warm and dry they felt as they brushed along hers. Her lips clung to his, her mouth opening to the heated probe of his tongue as he traced the line of her bottom lip in spine-weakening intimacy. She felt the slight graze of his teeth as he took her bottom lip between them, holding her for a heart-stopping moment until releasing her, only to dive between the soft folds of her lips to taste her completely. She felt the unmistakable thrust of his hard thighs between her quivering ones, felt too the evidence of his essential maleness as he leaned into her softness.

He lifted his head a fraction and her eyes sprang open to see him watching her steadily, his own dark gaze inscrutable.

‘I’ll be in contact with you over the arrangements.’ He stepped away from her.

She watched him silently as he returned to the chair behind his desk, irritated beyond measure at his calm indifference to what had passed between them in that one brief kiss.

‘Under the circumstances I thought it would be best if we have a small ceremony,’ he added. ‘Is there anyone you’d particularly like to invite?’

‘Apart from a sniper, do you mean?’

His eyes held hers for a lengthy pause.

‘Careful, Maddison, you’re supposed to be in love with me, remember? Not planning my demise behind my back.’

‘I could never be in love with you. You’re everything I most detest in a man.’

‘All I’m asking you to do is pretend.’

‘It’s going to take every bit of acting ability I possess to do so.’

‘I don’t care what it takes as long as you do it. Otherwise you know the score.’

‘I suppose you’re going to hang that threat over my head for as long as our marriage continues?’

‘Think of it as my insurance policy,’ he said. ‘I’ll let your brother off the hook if and when I feel you’ve done what is required.’

‘Am I to be allowed to contact him?’

‘I can hardly stop you,’ he said. ‘Besides, you’ll have to tell him of our impending marriage for no doubt he’ll read about it in the papers.’

‘How am I going to explain our sudden marriage to him?’

‘You’re a woman. Think of a suitable lie to put him off the scent.’

‘Your view of my gender positively reeks of misogyny.’

‘No doubt it does, but then in my thirty-four years I have yet to meet a woman who doesn’t run true to form.’

A small frown settled between her brows at his words. She wondered if somewhere along the line he’d been hurt by a woman, perhaps one who had got the upper hand with him and rubbed his nose in it.

‘I’ll arrange for some legal papers to be sent to you for your perusal,’ he said, cutting across her thoughts. ‘As for wedding finery, I’ll organise a credit card for you; it should be available in three or four days.’

‘I’m to be a real bride?’ She stared at him in alarm.

‘What’s wrong? Do you have a thing about wearing white?’

‘No.’ If only he knew the irony of his words, she thought. ‘I just didn’t expect you to want to go to so much trouble over a temporary arrangement.’

‘It’s only temporary to us,’ he pointed out. ‘To everyone else this must be presented as a match made in heaven. If we have some hole-and-corner ceremony it won’t look good enough to believe. Besides, everyone knows how Greek men pride themselves on scoring a virginal bride.’

Hot colour suffused her cheeks.

‘I hope being a virgin isn’t part of your stipulations?’

‘I’m not so stupid as to imagine you’ve got to the age you are without experiencing sex first hand. I take it I’m right?’

‘Of course,’ she lied.

‘That’s all for now.’ He got to his feet, effectively dismissing her. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

‘Is that all?’

‘Was there something else?’ He glanced at his watch before meeting her incensed gaze across the desk.

‘No.’ She snapped her mouth over the single word and snatched up her bag from the floor.

She was at the door with her hand on the knob when his voice halted her.

‘I wouldn’t advise any last minute countermoves. Remember I’m watching you.’

‘How could I forget?’ she tossed back at him before closing the door behind her.

She was halfway down the corridor when a heady cloying perfume began to assault her nostrils. She looked up to see an exotic-looking dark-haired woman sashaying past her towards Demetrius’s office, her clinging black dress outlining her very generous curves.

‘Is Demetrius free now?’ the woman asked in a kittenish tone which sickened Maddison to her stomach.

Some spark of residual defiance made Maddison adopt an equally provocative pose as she faced his latest conquest.

‘I hope I haven’t worn him out too much for you,’ she purred suggestively. ‘He’s quite something when he’s all fired up.’

The woman’s dark brows snapped together irritably. ‘That low-down bastard’s been having it off with you?’ she shrieked.

Maddison smoothed down her skirt before straightening her crumpled blouse.

‘He’s insatiable, but then I expect you already know that.’ She batted her eyelashes and then, leaning towards the spitting other woman, murmured conspiratorially, ‘I’ve heard a rumour he’s getting married. I’d be careful if I were you—jealous wives are the pits, aren’t they?’

The woman’s eyes narrowed in anger and she spun away to click-clack down the hall towards Demetrius’s office on heels that Maddison was sure were going to end up in his back at some point if the woman’s expression was anything to go by.

She smiled a little cat’s smile and continued on her way towards the exit. It felt good to have the upper hand just for once, and she was going to enjoy every single delicious minute.

On Wednesday morning a courier arrived at her apartment with a sheaf of papers and an envelope containing a credit card with her name on it.

She sat on her old sofa and went over the papers in detail. They were fairly straightforward, citing the date and time of their intended marriage and the conditions were laid out in simple terms. By signing, she was immediately relinquishing any financial rights normally afforded a marital partner on the dissolution of their marriage. She signed it with considerable relish; she didn’t want his stinking money anyway.

She wasn’t sure what to do about the credit card however. She had no savings left after Kyle’s airfare and traffic infringement, and although Hugo had given her severance pay she still had to finalise the electricity and phone bills before the end of the week, but even so she felt distinctly uncomfortable spending Demetrius’s money. In the end she decided to mail it back to him, not even bothering to write a covering note to accompany it.

As much as it galled her to have to do so she knew she couldn’t leave it too many more days without contacting him. She had one or two questions to ask regarding their living arrangements once they were married; somehow she didn’t think he’d agree to move into her tiny apartment with the peeling paint and constantly flickering light bulbs.

He wasn’t available to speak to her when she called his office, which instantly annoyed her. She didn’t want to wait around holding her breath for him to return her calls, but neither did she want to be left in a state of indecision and uncertainty over whatever arrangements he’d made.

Her hand hovered over the telephone later that evening as she fought with herself over whether to call his private number or not. Before her finger had pressed the first digit, however, the doorbell of her apartment pealed and she put the handset down with a clatter as she got to her feet to answer it.

Demetrius was standing there with a small smile lurking about the corners of his mouth. ‘Hello, Maddison.’ His dark eyes swept over her fluffy tracksuit before returning to her face. ‘Pleased to see me?’