The Greek's Unknown Bride (Mills & Boon Modern)

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The Greek's Unknown Bride (Mills & Boon Modern) Page 15

by Abby Green


  She could have passed for sixteen if it wasn’t for the X-rated memories of how she’d taken him into her body last night, meeting him thrust for thrust, begging, pleading...sending them both over the edge and into a crashing, burning orgasm so intense—Theos.

  She might have agreed to this transitory affair but he’d seen something in her eyes the other night that had caught at him deep inside. The same place that had been triggered when he’d believed he was to become a father, and when he’d realised that he wasn’t as averse to the thought of a family as he’d believed himself to be.

  In the aftermath of Sasha’s lies, that weakness had been pushed down. Not allowed room to breathe again. Until he’d heard himself telling Sophy the other night that she would have a family one day. With someone else. Not him. He’d said the words and they’d felt like ash in his mouth.

  He told himself it was sheer possessiveness of a lover. Nothing more. He didn’t want more. Even with Sophy. Especially Sophy.

  Apollo saw his foreman put a hand to Sophy’s back to guide her over some uneven ground. That sense of possessiveness surged. He closed the distance between them in a couple of long strides, and took Sophy’s hand. ‘I’ll take this from here, Milos, thank you.’

  He was aware of Sophy looking up at him and his foreman’s bemused expression. He ignored both and led her up to an open piece of ground at the top of a hill. She was panting slightly when they reached it. He let her hand go, and gestured around them. ‘This is going to be the site for the solar panels. The resort will be entirely self-sufficient for energy.’

  She was turning around, hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. She said, ‘Does it have to be just for solar panels? This would be a beautiful spot for an exclusive suite. It would have three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views of the island and surrounding sea. Sunrise and sunset views.’

  Apollo looked around and realised she was right. He followed her gaze, which took in the sea and hazy shapes of islands in the distance. The sky was so blue it hurt. Not a cloud in sight. All around them insects and birds chirruped and called. The scent of wild herbs infused the air.

  He shook his head, his mouth quirking. ‘I’ve had one of the best firms working on this for a couple of years now and no one came up with that idea.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sophy flushed, a dangerous warmth infusing her insides. ‘Well, it might be a silly idea. I’m sure it was thought of and discarded for some reason.’

  ‘We’ll look at it.’

  ‘Why did you decide to buy an island?’ Sophy asked then, taking him off guard a little. Apollo looked out over the sea. ‘When we were small, my brother was fascinated by the Greek myths and legends. My mother used to tell them to us at night as our bedtime stories.’

  His mouth quirked. ‘I found them boring. I was more interested in how things worked. He was the dreamer—he took after our mother. I took after our father. After our parents died and we were shuttled from foster home to foster home, he used to tell me that he couldn’t wait to be old enough to leave Athens. Get on a boat and go to all the islands, see the places of the myths and legends. Athens was too harsh for him. He was too sensitive. He fell in with a gang, as much to survive as anything else. Once he started taking drugs...that was it. He was lost.’

  Sophy’s heart felt sore for Apollo and his brother. ‘Why didn’t you end up going the same way?’

  Apollo shrugged, his eyes hidden behind dark shades. ‘I guess I was born more cynical than Achilles. I was more street smart too. I stayed out of the gang’s way. He was more susceptible. My father had always encouraged me to study hard, telling me that’s how I’d make a life for myself. I put my head down and when I looked up, it was too late.’

  The self-recrimination in his voice was palpable.

  ‘You were kids. Your brother was older than you. It wasn’t your responsibility to care for him. The adults around you should have been doing that.’

  Apollo made a derisory sound. ‘Our foster parents were just interested in the money they got from the state to take us in.’

  Sophy looked away and out to the horizon again, a little embarrassed at the emotion she was feeling. The fact that he’d done this to honour his brother was beyond touching. The whole site for the resort had touched her—everything was going to be sustainable and designed to make the most of the island’s natural resources, which in turn would help grow the local economy.

  The resort was going to be seriously impressive and seriously luxurious. Private suites with their own pools, terraces and stunning views would be dotted around a central area where there would be several restaurants, a spa, a gym and shops, showcasing local produce and crafts.

  In the main area there would be more rooms, and an infinity pool. Apollo also had plans for self-contained cottages where artists could come and stay in residence for a time—writers, painters, poets. They could apply for sponsorship through the resort and it only just impacted on Sophy now that he must have been thinking of his brother when he’d done that.

  ‘Come,’ he said, ‘I’ll take you to the town. I have a short meeting to attend with the town’s council and you can get a coffee and look around.’

  She noticed he didn’t take her hand this time but she felt his fingers touch bare skin above the waistband of her trousers and it burned hotter than the sun.

  Apollo was treated like a visiting celebrity when they reached the small harbour town a short while later. Old men came up to shake his hand, women smiled shyly, bouncing babies on their hips.

  He seemed to be embarrassed by the attention, smiling tightly. He took Sophy’s hand again, leading her to a shaded leafy square, with little tavernas that had seats and tables outside. She was glad of the shade as she was starting to wilt in the hot early afternoon sun.

  He spoke to the owner, who answered him effusively, gesturing to Sophy to come and sit down. ‘What did you say to him?’ she asked, amused by the attention.

  ‘Just to give you whatever you want until I come back. I won’t be long.’

  She watched him walk off. He was wearing faded jeans and a white polo shirt. The denim did little to hide the firm contours of his buttocks and when the owner came back with a menu, she was blushing.

  He gestured towards where Apollo was disappearing around a corner and said something in Greek that Sophy couldn’t understand, but she could see the emotion on the man’s face and imagined that he was telling her how grateful they were that Apollo had single-handedly breathed life back into this little island. Just because he wanted to honour his brother’s memory.

  Sophy smiled and put a hand to her chest to indicate that she understood. The man smiled and said in heavily accented English, ‘What would you like?’

  She asked for a coffee, having developed a taste for the strong tart drink. She noticed that there was bunting up around the pretty square and women were decorating every visible area with flowers.

  When they came over to the taverna, Sophy jumped up to help them string a garland of flowers over the front of the door. They spoke no English, she spoke no Greek but they laughed and smiled and for the first time in a long time, in spite of her grief, she felt light.

  She was dying to know what the flowers were for but her attempts to ask the ladies made them laugh at her mimes. Then she saw them all go brick red and stop talking. They practically bowed down. Sophy had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at their reaction. She didn’t have to look to know who was behind her. She could feel him.

  She might roll her eyes at his effect on the locals but, really, she was no better. He came up alongside her. ‘You’re helping them prepare for the wedding?’

  Sophy looked at him in surprise. ‘It’s a wedding?’

  He nodded. ‘The first wedding they’ve had on the island for a couple of years. It’s a big deal...and we’ve been invited.’

  ‘Oh...’ Sophy’s heartstrings tugged. She’d
love to see a Greek wedding but she didn’t expect Apollo would want to bring her with him, as if they were a couple. ‘That’s okay, they don’t know about our...arrangement. You should go, it’ll be expected.’

  He looked at her and she felt herself flush. Was she being gauche?

  ‘They invited both of us. It’s no big deal. Greek weddings are pretty informal in places like this, everyone is invited.’

  Now she did feel gauche. ‘Oh... Okay, then. That would be nice.’

  ‘I’ll show you around.’

  Sophy waved goodbye to the ladies and the taverna owner and when Apollo took her hand she tried to ignore the hitch in her heart. This was just a fleeting affair. No matter how much she might be falling in love with this lazy, idyllic island.

  No matter how much she might be falling deeper in love with the man.

  Her feet missed a step and she stumbled. Apollo put his arm around her to steady her. ‘Okay?’

  She forced a smile. ‘Fine.’

  Liar.

  She couldn’t ever afford to forget that she was only here because her sister had gone to this man and told a heinous lie, trapping him into a marriage. He never would have gone after Sophy. She never would have seen him again. She welcomed the dart of pain because this would be nothing compared to the pain she’d feel if she entertained fantasies.

  The town comprised of a few artisan shops and a beautiful old Greek orthodox church that was being prepared for the wedding. There was a growing air of excitement.

  Apollo led her down another side street and they passed a boutique. Sophy’s feet stopped in their tracks. It was a simple boutique but there was a dress in the window that caught her attention. Caught her heart.

  It was light blue broderie anglaise. Off the shoulder. The bodice was fitted and it fell in soft folds to below the knees. It was simple and unsophisticated. Not the kind of thing Sasha would have chosen in a million years. But she wasn’t Sasha. She was Sophy and she wasn’t sophisticated.

  ‘You like that dress?’

  Embarrassed, Sophy started to walk off. ‘No, no, it just caught my eye.’

  But Apollo didn’t budge. ‘It would suit you. Try it on.’

  Sophy tried to desist but Apollo was tugging her towards the shop. The saleswoman had seen them too and was opening the door. Too late to turn back. She was obviously delighted that the saviour of the island was frequenting her humble establishment.

  They went in and before Sophy could object, she was being whisked off to a changing area.

  Apollo paced the floor of the shop. This was something he didn’t usually indulge in—dressing his lovers. It would give the wrong impression. But right now he didn’t really care. He just wanted to see Sophy in that dress.

  He heard a noise behind him and turned. For a moment he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He almost reached to his neck to loosen his tie but realised he wasn’t wearing one.

  He’d seen women in some of the skimpiest and most expensive haute couture but none of them had had this effect on him. The dress shouldn’t be having this effect on him. But it wasn’t the dress, it was the woman in the dress. She epitomised simple fresh-faced beauty. No adornment.

  The bodice hugged her torso, around her high firm breasts and then fell in soft folds to below her knees. Her feet were bare. Her hair was pulled back, highlighting her slim shoulders and neck. He could see where the sun had turned her skin a light gold. She had more freckles.

  His voice felt strangled when he said, ‘We’ll buy it.’

  Sophy immediately started protesting but he just signalled to the owner that they’d take it and she whisked Sophy back to the changing area.

  When Sophy emerged again Apollo was paying for the dress and accepting it in a bag. She felt conflicted—thrilled to have the dress but weird because he’d paid for it. Sasha had always favoured boyfriends with money who would buy her things and the sheer volume of clothes here and in Athens was testament to how much she’d squeezed out of Apollo.

  When they walked out of the shop into the street Sophy said stiffly, ‘I really didn’t expect you to buy the dress.’

  ‘It looks good on you, wear it this evening at the wedding festivities.’

  He was putting his shades on again, oblivious to Sophy’s turmoil. She didn’t move. ‘I want to pay you back for the dress.’ She realised she had nothing, and not only that, she would have most certainly lost her job. There was only a meagre balance in her bank account back in England because she’d loaned Sasha money not long before she’d disappeared to Greece with Apollo. The knowledge that she’d most likely funded Sasha’s trip to betray her made her feel even more prickly. ‘I mean, when I can. I insist.’

  Apollo looked at her. ‘Fine. Whatever you want. I can get your people to liaise with my people and set up an electronic transfer for the princely sum of thirty euros.’ His mouth quirked.

  ‘Don’t laugh at me.’

  His mouth straightened. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. ‘I know you’re not your sister, Sophy. You’re nothing like her, believe me.’

  ‘You couldn’t tell us apart after the accident.’

  Apollo arched a brow over his shades. ‘Couldn’t I? I never wanted her the way I want you.’

  He kissed her there in the street, with people passing by. Sophy was aware of whispers and giggles and she couldn’t stop her silly heart soaring.

  When they returned to the town early that evening, Sophy felt self-conscious in the dress. She’d dressed it up a bit by pulling her hair into a bun on the top of her head and choosing a pair of Sasha’s strappy silver sandals.

  Apollo was wearing a dark suit and white shirt, open at the neck. He led her down to the smaller square where the church was located and the couple was just emerging from the entrance to loud cheers and clapping. Musicians played traditional Greek music.

  Apollo and Sophy stood on the end of what looked like a receiving line of guests to either side of the couple, who passed down, accepting congratulations and good wishes. The bride was beautiful, with dark laughing eyes and long hair. Her husband was tall and handsome. They looked incandescently happy.

  When they’d passed down the line, they walked through the town towards the bigger square. Apollo and Sophy followed them. The place had been transformed since earlier that day. Flowers festooned every available surface and fairy lights were strung across the square. Candles flickered on tables.

  It was simple, rustic, humble and beautiful. Sophy knew Sasha would have hated it. She loved it.

  Apollo was greeted and feted like a VIP. They were seated at a table for dinner near the bride and groom’s table. A steady stream of people came up to converse with Apollo. Sophy was happy to let the occasion wash over her, enjoying the people-watching and lively Greek bonhomie and music.

  When dinner had been cleared away, the music stopped suddenly and a line of men got up to dance, including the groom. Everyone turned to look at them. At the last minute they gestured to Apollo to get up and join them. He signalled no, but one of the men came over and pulled him up, amidst cheers and applause.

  The music started slow and mesmeric, a familiar Greek song, a traditional dance. Apollo was near the middle, near the groom. The men started dancing, slowly, in time to the music, arms around each other’s shoulders.

  Apollo did the slow deliberate steps with perfect precision, a smile on his face. He looked younger all of a sudden. Less intense. It made Sophy’s heart swell, thinking of what he’d told her about his parents dancing. Maybe his father had taught him and his brother this dance?

  The music got faster and the steps more intricate, Apollo’s torso and hips twisting. He was so dynamic and handsome that Sophy didn’t have to look around her to know that every gaze was trained on him. Probably even the bride’s.

  By the time the music built to a crescendo everyone was on th
eir feet clapping and cheering. The men bowed. Then it was the women’s turn, led out to dance by the bride.

  One of the women grabbed Sophy’s hand and pulled her up. She was shaking her head, laughing, but they ignored her. She caught Apollo’s eye and shrugged helplessly.

  Apollo watched Sophy being pulled away to dance. Her face was shining and she was laughing, trying to do her best to keep up with the steps of the dance. She stood out with her red-gold hair and blue eyes. Pale skin. She’d kicked off the high-heeled sandals and was in her bare feet.

  Physical desire was like a tight knot inside Apollo, winding tighter and tighter. But along with the physical desire was something else, something far more disturbing. A sense of yearning...a need to replace the hollow ache in his chest. An ache he’d ignored for a long time. An ache he couldn’t keep ignoring around her.

  With her questions that struck at the heart of him: Why did you buy an island?

  A sense of desperation gripped him now. This was just about sex. Nothing more. By the time Sophy had picked up her shoes and come off the dance floor Apollo was standing up to meet her.

  He took her hand. ‘Ready to go?’

  She must have seen something of the urgency he was feeling because her eyes darkened and she nodded wordlessly.

  Apollo paid his respects to the bride and groom and drove them back to his villa. All was quiet and hushed on this side of the island, only the faintest sounds of the revelry carrying on the light breeze. Sophy’s feet were still bare.

  They got out of the car and Apollo held out his hand for her. Sophy didn’t hesitate. She took Apollo’s hand and let him lead her into the villa, dropping her shoes on the way. The need to replace feelings he didn’t welcome with the physical reminder of what was between them was overwhelming.

  Sophy let Apollo lead her to his room. It was illuminated by moonlight. Standing in front of him, the lingering tipsiness from the wine made her bold. She moved forward and pushed Apollo’s jacket off. It fell to the floor.

 

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