His Shock Marriage In Greece

One day Dukas Shipping would go the way of Aegean Shipping—the name would drop and the company itself would fold into the more powerful Alexopoulos Shipping.

Damen closed his laptop to look out the window at the now dark sky. At midnight the lights on the Temple of Poseidon would go out, but as it was only ten, the temple still glowed from the spotlights.

Damen tapped a finger on the arm of his chair, trying to ease the tension bottled within him. He hated how Kristopher Dukas had played him. He hated the feelings flooding him. He didn’t like it when his temper flared. He had a hot temper. He used to have a horrendous temper. It had taken years to learn how to manage his anger, but today was testing him. Today made him want to let loose, and level something.

He thought of Kassiani in the master bedroom and closed his eyes and shook his head.

He didn’t know why he’d allowed the steward to take her there. Kassiani should have been taken to a guest room. Somewhere out of his way. Somewhere he could forget her.

Instead she was in his room, waiting for his return.

His gut cramped.

He didn’t want her. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he didn’t want her. She wasn’t the bride he’d been promised. Kristopher had promised the best daughter, and Damen had believed him, investing heavily in Dukas Shipping’s West Coast ports, building them up, buying new ships, aware that the heavy cash investment now would stabilize both of their businesses in the future. But the deal was off.

The marriage would be annulled.

And the contracts would soon be voided.

He’d already emailed his attorney to start the process of dissolution. Now it was just a matter of returning the Dukas girl to her father and moving forward the necessary legal action.

* * *

Her meal finished, Kassiani left the table and retreated inside to study the luxurious master bedroom. At least, she assumed it was the master bedroom, which meant Damen would be returning at some point, and they would be alone. Here. In the bedroom.

She, who had only pecked Damen on the lips at the chapel, needed to find the confidence to sleep with him. Correction, not sleep, but have sex with him, because if the marriage wasn’t fully consummated, Damen could annul it and then the Dukases would lose everything.

Kassiani might not be the favored daughter, but she was loyal to her family and protective of the company. She’d agreed to marry Damen so that Dukas Shipping wouldn’t be destroyed by legal actions. Damen could destroy them. His demands for restitution would bankrupt the company.

As her father baldly put it this morning—he couldn’t afford to pay Damen back. The wedding had to happen, and the marriage consummated.

Which meant Kassiani had to seduce Damen tonight. It wouldn’t be easy. She wasn’t just a virgin, but a virgin with zero experience. Before the peck in the chapel, she’d only ever been kissed once before, a bumbling fumbling kiss that had been so wet and distasteful that she’d never wanted to kiss again.

Compared to that wet, violent assault on her mouth, today’s chapel kiss had been rather exhilarating. When he’d tilted her chin up to kiss her, she’d felt a little shiver of anticipation, and he’d smelled lovely as his head dropped, his mouth brushing hers. His lips had felt firm and cool, and yet they’d somehow made her feel warm, and tingly. Her lips continued to tingle even after he’d lifted his head. She’d found herself wishing the kiss had lasted longer. She was curious as to what more would feel like, and with a longer kiss, perhaps she could process her thoughts and all the different sensations. Kass liked data and analysis. Information was immensely helpful.

More information was needed now.

How was she to seduce Damen when she had no knowledge of such things? Of course she knew what men’s bodies looked like. She didn’t live in the Dark Ages. She had a brother. She had a father. The internet was full of photographs, and movies, and she’d just have to piece together from movies what men would like.

From what she recalled, men seemed to like stripteases. They liked lap dances. They liked titillation, including women on their knees, obedient and eager to please.

Kassiani tried to imagine kneeling before Damen, her hands on his thighs, fingers moving toward the zipper of his trousers.

The image made her feel peculiar. Heat washed through her, making her skin prickle, and her breasts peak. The hot ball of tension seemed to center low in her belly, pulsing a little between her thighs. She was nervous and excited at the same time. Her entire world had been turned upside down. She’d come to Athens five days ago expecting to attend her sister’s wedding. Instead she’d been woken by her father early this morning with the news that he expected her to marry Elexis’s groom. And Kassiani, so desperate to earn her father’s favor, had. Now instead of returning to San Francisco, she was to remain in Greece, and make a new life for herself as Damen’s wife.

Kassiani shot a glance into the wood-framed mirror on the wall. She was still wearing Elexis’s wedding dress, and the lace panels that had been added were pulling at the seams. Even in a corset, even with the additional panels added to the dress, the gown was too tight. The fabric pulled in all the wrong places.

Kass had never let herself dream about her wedding day, but if she was being honest, she’d say it certainly wasn’t the wedding that took place today, and she certainly wouldn’t have chosen this dress...a dress that made her look even curvier and stockier with all the lace panels.

No, she would have chosen something simple—an off-the-shoulder white satin gown that minimized her bust and skimmed her hips, before falling into a long graceful skirt in the same clean white satin. There would have been no plunging necklines and no bustle and no ornate beading adding thickness and weight to the lace panels worked into the bodice and skirt.

Kassiani placed a hand to the plunging neckline, running her fingertips lightly over her curves. Her breasts were beyond voluptuous. She’d always hated the thickness of her hips and thighs, as well as the shape of her belly, somewhat round as if she practiced belly dancing regularly, instead of the hours she spent on a treadmill walking, walking, walking, forever trying to reduce her form, wanting to be lean like her mother and sister. She would never be lean.

Her exterior was what it was—it couldn’t be changed—and she was certain her new husband was disappointed, which was why she had to prove herself. She had to prove to him tonight that she fully intended to be a good wife. She’d find a way to satisfy him.

But how?

And what if she couldn’t get him to respond?

Kass grabbed her phone and, while struggling out of her gown and layers of girdles and undergarments, researched men and arousal. Peeling her stockings off, she found quite a few sites offering numerous tips on how to please your man in bed, ranging from “Twelve Erogenous Zones That Shouldn’t Be Ignored” to a very useful and practical article on “How to Give Unforgettable Oral Sex.”

Naked, she headed into the adjoining white marble bathroom and, careful not to get her hair wet—it was still coiled up in an elaborate updo—she used the body wash in the shower to try to rub some of the marks out of her skin, but the angry red marks created by the corset weren’t ready to fade. Leaving the shower, she wrapped herself in the white robe hanging on the back of the door, and then sat down on the edge of the bathtub and began reading everything she could about pleasing a man.

She was still reading when she heard a firm knock on the bathroom door. “Are you hiding, mikrí sou gynaíka?”

Her Greek was a little rusty, but not so rusty she didn’t understand his words. Are you hiding, my little wife?

She jumped up and turned her phone off. “No.” Kassiani opened the door and faced him, tugging the lapels of the robe so that they better covered her chest. “I’m using your robe. I hope that is okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t think to bring any clothes with me.”

“I don’t think either of us was thinking clearly.” He hesitated, and then shrugged. “This isn’t going to work. I’ll ask the crew to find something for you to wear and then my security will get you back to the villa at Sounio.”

“Am I that much of a disappointment?”

“You’re not a disappointment.”

“Then why send me away without giving me a chance?”

“Because I was engaged to Elexis, not you.”

“But Elexis left and I was there.”

“The Dukas sisters are not interchangeable!”

“Because I’m not beautiful like her?”

“Because you’re not hard like her.” He didn’t quite yell, but he flung the words at her with enough ferocity to make her flinch. He must have seen her reaction because he dropped his voice. “I wanted a wife who wouldn’t feel. A woman I couldn’t bruise. I don’t know you very well, Petra Kassiani, but my gut says you feel, and feel deeply.”

Heat rushed through her, and shame, because he was right. She did feel deeply but she hated that aspect of her personality, far preferring her intellect over her emotions. “I understand the kind of marriage you want. I won’t ask you to romance me. I won’t expect flowers and poetry—”

“Or tenderness? Or kindness? Or patience?”

“I can’t believe you’re capable of all of the above.”

“Well, I am. Trust me.”

“You were marrying Elexis to help save Dukas Shipping.”

“I was marrying Elexis to dismantle Dukas Shipping.”

Her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered.

“If you stay here, if you remain my wife and the agreements and contracts hold, there will be no Dukas Shipping in five years. It will all be Alexopoulos Shipping of the Aegean.”

She stared at him, skeptical, but also wary. “Is this your way of making me throw up my arms and run back to my father? Am I to choose him and his business over you?”

“I am nothing to you. You are nothing to me—”

“I married you. You are my husband.”

“But you do not know me. You should have no loyalty to me.”

“I pledged to care for you and be a good wife. I intend to keep my vow.”

“Even though I want to destroy what’s left of your father’s business?”

She didn’t immediately answer, taking needed time to form an answer. “From the beginning this was to be a merger of families and businesses. The stronger business always wins in mergers. You are the stronger partner and change was inevitable.”

He turned away and walked through the French doors to the deck. She could see him run his hand across his jaw, once, and then again. He was battling himself, she thought. He was battling and she didn’t even know his fight, but whatever it was, she was firmly on his side. She had to be. She had chosen him, and she’d wanted a new life. A different life. She’d wanted to be an Alexopoulos, and not a Dukas, and if she wasn’t careful he’d cart her back to the mainland and she’d be back with her father, which was the last place she wanted to be.

Kassiani followed him outside. Clouds half covered the moon, casting shadows on the deck. She couldn’t see Damen’s face clearly. But his shoulders were rigid, and even from this angle, he looked utterly unapproachable.

“Damen.”

“Go back inside. I can’t think clearly with you near me.”

“Maybe that’s good.”

“It’s not.”

The night had cooled and a wind blew, tugging at her hair, and the label of her thick white robe. “Please, just give me a chance—”

“For God’s sake, do not beg, Kassiani.”

“Just give me a chance. One chance. That’s all I ask.”

“Why?”

“I want out. I want a life away from my family—”

“You’re not going to get a happy family with me.”

“I’m not asking for a fairy tale. I’m not pretty and popular. I find dating a nightmare. I’m so awkward but at the same time, I’m practical. I know you were marrying my sister because you wanted heirs. Obviously she’s not ready to marry and be a mother, but I am. I want children. I’ll be a good mother, too. So give me a chance to show you I could be a good wife, and...please...you. If I can’t, and you have no...interest...despite my best efforts, then I will go home, and I’ll accept your decision. But I can’t accept rejection before I’ve had a chance to prove myself—”

“This isn’t about you,” he gritted, spinning around, features twisted. “This is about your father manipulating me—”

“But you got everything you wanted...the deals, the ports, the ships, the agreements, everything but Elexis. And you said you didn’t love her, so why can’t I be a substitute bride? Why can’t I be the woman to give you your children? Is it because I’m so much plainer?”

“No.”

“You protested too quickly.” She struggled to smile. “I don’t believe you. But that’s okay. I know what I look like—”

“Stop it, Kass!” He grabbed her by the upper arms and gave her a shake. “Stop this madness. Because it is madness. I may not have been born with much, but I would never take a woman against her will, and you were forced into this marriage by your father to save his hide, not yours.”

“But that’s not true. This marriage saves mine. This marriage gets me out.” Her voice broke. Tears fell. “I hated living in that house on Nob Hill. I have never fit in, never belonged, and I’m fully aware of who I am in that family. I’m the ugly one. The embarrassing one. The one they choose to leave behind. Marrying you lets me escape that legacy. You give me a new life, and a future.”

“You’ll be no happier with me.”

She hesitated, a lump welling in her throat, a lump so big it made swallowing hurt. “I know it’s not easy to look at me—”

“Good God!” He gave her another shake. “Do not say such things. You are not your sister, but you are not ugly, not even remotely ugly.” His grip eased, his hands half sliding down her arms. “Don’t ever say such a thing again because it’s a lie and you seem far too intelligent to believe lies and mistruths.”

Her head jerked up and she searched his face. “Could you make love to me?”

“Kassiani.”

“You can’t imagine it?”

“That’s not the point.”

“But it is. If I can please you, and prove to you I’m a good wife, you might realize this is the right marriage.” Her chin lifted, her expression provocative, despite the trace of tears. “So do we have a deal, Damen Alexopoulos? I know you like making deals, so make one with me.”

“This is a terrible deal.”

“Because if you lose, you’re stuck with me?”

“No, because if you lose, you’ll apparently be weeping all over my villa and I’ll feel like a—oh, what is the word in English? A beast? An ogre?”

“A schmuck.”

“A schmuck,” he echoed.

“But I won’t be weeping and you won’t have to feel like a schmuck if you give me a fair chance. I understand your objections. I know you don’t want me. I know you have no feelings for me. But history is filled with arranged marriages and many of them turned out to be good partnerships. Beneficial relationships. Why can’t we be one of those?”

“So how do we know who wins?”

“You give me to dawn. If we consummate our marriage tonight, I win. If we don’t, you win, and you can have your security return me to the villa first thing in the morning.”

He sighed and dragged a hand through his thick dark hair, rifling it on end. “Do you have a plan, kitten?”

“I do. I’m going to seduce you.”

CHAPTER THREE

HE HADN’T COME to the bedroom to make love to his new wife. He’d come to send her home, and yet she was fierce and stubborn, determined to fight for this marriage.

So different from Elexis, who hadn’t even bothered to show up for the ceremony. So different from Elexis, who couldn’t even hold a conversation with him. Kassiani could hold a conversation and more. She was fierce, smart, eloquent. She would have been an incredible trial attorney. She’d be amazing in the boardroom.

Maybe that’s why he was here, sitting in one of the leather chairs in the master bedroom, telling Kassiani to unpin her hair and then shake it out, before letting her try to entertain him.

He was intrigued by her, curious as to her next move.

Her next move proved to be a rather awkward, but earnest, dance in front of him.

She was still wearing his robe but every now and then a lapel slipped open, revealing the pale slope of a full breast, or a knee and thigh.

He hadn’t allowed himself to think of her as a woman before this, because she hadn’t been his woman, but as she danced, her hips slowly, sensually gyrating, her arms lifted over her head, eyes half-closed as she swayed, he couldn’t look away. He was fairly certain she’d never done this before, which was maybe what made her efforts so appealing. He hadn’t thought he’d find her arousing, and yet he was hard, and growing harder as she danced and swayed, using her body to entice him.

He watched her from beneath heavy lids, body heating, blood humming in his veins. He’d wanted to be done with her. He’d come to his room to dispense with her, and yet here she was, dancing as if her life depended on it. As though he were a sultan, and she a disgraced member of his harem.

And perverse as the thought was, that, too, aroused him. The only way he felt anything, anymore, was through sex. Hard, carnal sex. Sex threaded with power. Sex laced with pain. He hadn’t always been this way. He’d been...normal...once.

He’d had feelings, and tenderness. But that had been stripped from him in his teenage years, along with his pride, leaving only failure and shame.

It’s why he wanted to marry Elexis. She was hard. He wouldn’t break her. But Kassiani...she was entirely something else.

And she was entirely something else right now, as she slowly sank down, going to her knees before him. Her hands rested lightly on his knees and her head tipped back to look up into his face.

He didn’t know what she saw in his face, but whatever she did see, it emboldened her. She ran her hands lightly up his quadriceps, her palms warm against his thighs. Reaching his hips, she lightly stroked down, brushing the inside of his thighs. His shaft throbbed. He felt as if he would burst out of his skin in a moment. His virginal little bride was not acting so very virginal in that moment.

It had been a long time since he’d been so turned on. A long time since his chest felt heat and warmth along with his groin. Normally only his erection worked, but tonight his entire body heated and thrummed as her hands stroked back up his thighs, moving toward his zipper.

Damen had to steel himself to keep from making a sound.

He watched, fascinated, as she unzipped him and reached into his cotton briefs to draw him out. He was long and thick and he pulsed in her soft, warm hand.

He wanted to tell her to wrap her fingers around him. He wanted to tell her how to stroke him—firmly, from the base of his shaft to the tip of his rounded head. He wanted what he wanted, and yet, he was also curious to see what she’d do next, and how she intended to satisfy him.

Her fingers slowly curved around him and she lowered her head to touch the tip of her tongue to the head of his shaft.

He stifled his growl of appreciation as her tongue lapped at him, licking the throbbing tip as if he were a lollipop or ice-cream cone.

It was all he could do not to rock his hips. He wanted to be in her mouth. He wanted the pressure of her hand and the wet heat of her mouth, and she wasn’t quite getting the hang of it yet, but just watching her lick him, and suck him, made him hungrier, and fiercer.

She was trying so hard to please him, and she was applying herself so passionately to the task, that every flick of her tongue across his swollen head made him groan inwardly. She was either a splendid actress, or she genuinely enjoyed sucking him. The fact that she might just enjoy this...night...had never once crossed his mind. He hadn’t ever thought of her wanting him, or desiring him, and watching her lavish him with attention made him want to explode.

He stopped there, aware that these weren’t the thoughts of a considerate husband.

Not that he’d ever be a truly good, considerate husband, because he wasn’t a good or considerate man. He was too bitter and broken. Too ambitious. Too driven. He’d come from nowhere, having risen up from nothing—literally olive trees and a stone hut in the middle of a hilltop orchard—and then even that had been taken from him, taken by those who believed money made them better than others, that money gave them the right to use and abuse.

It’s why he’d worked so hard his entire life—to distance himself from the victim he’d been.

Having hit the absolute bottom, he knew he’d never be weak again.

His world was strength, power, domination. It was his one and only goal.

He wanted a family to prove that he’d overcome a dark past, and he had the means to ensure they’d be safe. They’d be comfortable, guarded, protected. His children would be able to go to the best schools. They’d have the best security. They’d never be exploited. But he needed a wife who would love them, because he didn’t love. He didn’t have normal emotions and feelings, and there was no room for feelings, just as there would be no romance.

Should he take Kassiani to his bed, it would be strictly business. Just like consummating the marriage was serious business. The moment he took her virginity, there would be no going back. The moment he claimed her, there would be no annulment.

Did he want to claim her?

He studied her from beneath heavy lids, his erection aching in her hands, the thick tip damp from her mouth.

Even though she was the wrong bride, she was still a Dukas and the marriage still gave him what he wanted—all of North America’s West Coast ports. All the Dukas ships. All the trade agreements.

Part of him wanted to punish the Dukas family for playing him, but that would be cutting off his nose to spite his face. Kassiani would meet his needs just as well as Elexis. Maybe even better because his children did need a mother who would feel and care and fight for them. They’d need one parent with a heart.

He should just take her to bed, and claim her. He wouldn’t be rough with her, even though he liked hot, hard sex. Sex without apology. He’d never made love to a woman and felt love. Sex—intercourse—was a release, and it felt good after he climaxed, but there wasn’t much else he felt in the bedroom, other than loathing. He’d never tell anyone but he could barely tolerate being touched. He could barely endure being inside his skin. It was always a fight, a battle, to not remember the past. To not let memories resurface.

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