The Counterfeit Bride
by
Liberty Blake
Boundless Billionaires
Book One
Dedicated to the memory of Dr. David Switzer, our fearless leader in Greece.
Acknowledgements:
Thank you to all my friends of Rhode Island Romance Writers, past and present. Between the members, speakers, and workshops of RIRW I have learned so much and have hopefully improved my craft.
Several people have aided me in this process and their help has been invaluable. Thank you, Amanda Torrey, Skye Sullivan, Karen Frisch, and Janet Jones Bann.
As a special treat, keep reading at the end of the book for previews of other stories by Liberty Blake, Heather Peters, and J. M. Griffin.
The Counterfeit Bride copyright © 2013, Carolyn Sullivan
Cover Design: Lyn Stanzione, stanzalonedesign.weebly.com/book-covers.html
All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the express permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
About the Author
Previews
The Counterfeit Bride
Chapter 1
“Stop the wedding!”
Six hundred heads snapped towards the central doors of the Metropolitan Cathedral of the Annunciation, the Metropolis, the church of choice for Greece’s elite.
The silly French trumpeters Cassiopeia Dolmides had insisted on blasted a fanfare to announce the new arrival. Theron Christofides’ heart thumped harder. Was this it? Had his legal team found a loophole to get him out of this accursed wedding without a wife he did not want?
Theron did not recognize the voice of the woman now strutting down the aisle. His eyes squinted against the bright Greek sunshine, but still he could not get a clear view of her. Unless his attorney had undergone a sex change overnight, it was not him. The sun’s rays outlined a curvaceous body but hid the details. Never-ending legs were exposed by an extremely tiny skirt.
In ancient times brides would have made a sacrifice to Apollo for a day such as this to wed, but it did not lift the gloom that issued forth from Theron’s heart. It was an unfair God who placed this woman in the vicinity of his mannequin bride on their wedding day.
Cassiopeia, his not so lovely bride, clutched him with trembling hands. The sanctuary and priest loomed behind them and Ajax Pappas, his best man, stood beside him with a huge grin on his face as the guests buzzed. “I don’t remember any of your women being so height challenged,” Ajax snickered.
Up until the time he climbed out of his limo and walked up the steps of the Cathedral, Theron had hoped his attorney would find a way out of this farce, but the realist in him knew there was no way out of this unpleasant situation for him, not if he wanted to take possession of Evadne Island.
The Greek economy was trapped in the River Styx. Unfortunately, he could not single-handedly save the entire country, but he had the chance to salvage the island of his birth. All he had to do was marry the pasty faced fashion horror standing next to him, and beget an heir on her. It was archaic and infuriated him, but it was the only way Dolmides would relinquish control of the shipping line that brought tourists to the island. The tourists the islanders depended on for their livelihood. There was also the small matter of the Dolmides Cruise Liner wrecked off the north coast of the island. The ship had struck a sandbar and “sunk” the year before and yet its carcass still littered the coast. A fresh reminder to the world of the incident that had taken ten lives.
Theron was pulled out of his thoughts by Ajax’s quip. Before he could reply a melodious voice rang out loud and clear, “Is this when I say I have an objection? Or have I already missed that part?”
His bride gasped and turned even pastier. Theron watched the woman in her wedding cake gown shift from foot to foot. She was as jumpy as a young cat going through its first heat; too thin, too needy, and shameless in her endeavors to climb into his bed. Her claw-like fingers squeezed his arm. He wondered if his white shirt would have blood stains on it before this was all over.
“Damn American tourists,” Theron muttered under his breath. “They think they can burst in anywhere they want, with no care for the privacy of others.” The woman’s boots clattered noisily on the tiled floor as she strode briskly up the aisle. She headed straight for the sanctuary with no regard for the wedding that was in progress. The crowd tittered at this unprecedented breach of etiquette. They probably thought she was one of Theron’s discarded lovers, since several of them had made scenes in the past. Apparently the best way to find another high profile lover was by publicly humiliating your past lovers.
Theron had never seen anyone stride and sway at the same time, but somehow the intruder managed to do so. Her top did not meet her skirt and a sun beam danced through the stained glass window to sparkle on a jewel in her navel. The heeled boots gave her a boost in stature that she needed. He was bemused to see the footwear; they were not fashionable in any way. They did not feature heels so high the wearer had to have two inch lifts on the soles to accommodate the height of the heel. In addition, they were purple and appeared to be made out of snakeskin. Were they cowboy boots? The hat wasn’t a frothy wedding concoction favored by the other women attending the wedding; it appeared to be a cowboy hat. She looked like she had just stepped out of a movie or a stable. He suppressed a grin at the incongruity of her appearance in the stately old cathedral.
She was attractive with a capital H for hot. The woman fizzled like a pyrotechnia, ready to explode at any moment. The set of her jaw and the no nonsense stance she took when she came to a stop halfway up the aisle proclaimed her firecracker status louder than a neon billboard in New York’s Times Square.
“I’m sorry for the interruption, folks, but it couldn’t be helped,” her voice flowed over his senses like warm honey waiting to be lapped up, and sent his blood rushing south. Cassiopeia’s voice was high pitched and whiny; no blood ever rushed at her nasally voice. “Does anybody here speak English?” Strands of fire curled around the woman’s body. Would that fiery hair scorch his hands when he touched it?
The cathedral doors closed and in the reduced light Theron stared at the petite woman in a miniscule denim skirt. It went well with the cowboy boots and hat, but was out of place in Athens’ great cathedral.
The bride-to-be did not fare well in a co
mparison with the flaming beauty. Cassiopeia’s skin had a grayish tinge, causing her make-up to stand out like a clown-face mask. Her hair, although red, did not have the glow of flames in it; instead it was as dead and lifeless as a pile of bricks. Disgust flowed in his veins at the sight of her. He did not want Cassiopeia Dolmides in his bed. Ever.
He blinked as the elderly priest rushed past him in a whoosh of air. The old cleric stood in front of the young woman, shaking her hand. “I speak English. I spent many years in your country. How may I help you?” His damn hand was still holding hers. “Perhaps there has been an accident?”
Theron could not stay near his bride; he had to get away from the woman. She was a clinging vine and her touch annoyed him. Distaste stamped his soul as he left Cassiopeia with Kelley Flynn, her mother, and joined the priest with the pyrotechnia. He could feel the waves of hot sexual energy pouring off the woman. Was she dipped in pheromones the way Achilles was dipped in the River Styx?
Another honeyed laugh came out of the woman’s rosy lips. They were not full or puffed out like Cassiopeia’s, but they looked luscious enough to lick. Would they taste of honey from her laugh? Theron’s body reacted to her again as his arousal grew harder. He wanted to taste those lips. He needed to see if they were sweet or tart.
What was happening to him? The last time he had so little control over the urges of his own body had been when he was a fourteen-year-old boy and Angeliki, the tavern owner’s daughter, taught him how to please her.
“Oh, no, Padre, it’s nothing like that,” her sigh accompanied a small pout. Theron wanted to tug on her lower lip with his teeth. “I’m sorry about my hat. I know it’s a bit unusual around here, but I wasn’t sure if your church required women to have their heads covered or not. I didn’t have time to change into anything more appropriate, although this is my best hat.” Her cute little nose wrinkled up. “Do you think I should have added some flowers? I was running so late and there was just no time to change. I really needed to be here before you reached the part about forever-after-hold-your-peace thingy. I thought it was better to keep the hat on and err on the side of poor taste, than to offend the rules of your beautiful church.”
The priest gazed at the black cowboy hat cocked flirtatiously on her gleaming copper hair. “Your hat is quite charming. It looks authentic, like it’s from a John Wayne movie.”
“Why, thank you, sir.” Her eyes twinkled at the old man. “I worked hard to get that look.” She cocked her head. Theron’s pulse continued the flood south. “Have you gotten to the part where you ask if anyone has any objections yet?”
Theron had many objections to the marriage, beginning with his intense dislike of Costas Dolmides and ending with his revulsion of Cassiopeia Dolmides, but he had no idea what this sexy little package’s opposition might be.
“Is this is one of your floozies, Christofides?” Costas’ loud voice and stocky body pushed into the aisle. Apparently Costas had decided to take umbrage at a perceived insult to his family honor.
Theron wanted to respond in kind, but the contracts would not be signed until after the wedding ceremony. Until he had the deed to Evadne he could not allow his righteous indignation to show. “I have never seen this woman before.” But I wish I had, Theron thought.
“Woman, you have barged in on a private ceremony. This is a holy place and you dare to come here dressed like a whore.” Costas Dolmides’ body shook, his anger palpable, as he stood between Theron and the young woman. Theron wanted to pound him for his crudeness to the woman. His protective feelings surprised him. “You are desecrating my daughter’s wedding. Get out before I call the police.”
The little firecracker looked down her nose at Costas. She did not quake or crumble as most women did around him when he was abusive. Instead a flame burst behind her eyes. Theron had the eerie sensation he should duck to avoid getting burned. “You dare to talk of desecration, old man!” Dolmides, one of the richest and most powerful men in the world, shook his fist at the tiny slip of a woman. She gave him the disdainful look of a Sunday school teacher facing a rude little boy clutching a toad in his dirty hands. Theron had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at her audacity. He admired her spirit even as he disliked the scene she caused.
A moment later she broke into laughter. Theron’s flanks shuddered. No one had ever affected him this strongly, and he did not know her name. Yet.
“My father is right, Padre, I am sorry my outfit is not worthy to be in your beautiful church. I’m afraid there was a problem with our lay-over in Frankfurt. Instead of arriving in time to check into my hotel yesterday, we just arrived a few minutes ago. I didn’t have time to shower or change into something more appropriate. As soon as they released me from customs I boogied right on over here.”
He had to do something. He wanted her to stop smiling at the ancient priest and look at him so he blurted, “Perhaps you should have planned your trip a little better.” Her scorn-filled eyes turned on him. Theos! He felt himself growing even larger as he caught his first glimpse of the most magnificent purple eyes he had ever seen. Her full attention was now focused on him. Christos! The perfection of that face-, he understood why the old priest could not resist her.
“Sir, in these days there are some contingencies which you may think you have planned for, but you can never tell in advance if your plan is going to work.” Her words were slow and sweet sounding, even when they dripped with scorn. “Such as a suspected bomb on our aircraft.”
Was she talking about herself? He thought wickedly.
“Or the eighteen hours spent trying to sleep on the hard floors of the Frankfurt airport.” Her words were losing their soft sibilance. Her voice was taking on some of the clipped sounds of his bride, but without the whine. “They take airport security very seriously, you know. Between the bomb sniffing dogs and the automatic rifles the airport security carried, it was pretty scary.” Her gorgeous violet eyes filled up. “On top of that I had to worry about not getting here on time. I still don’t know if I made it on time. Nobody has answered my question. Have I arrived in time to stop the wedding, or am I married to a stranger?”
Chapter 2
Cassidy Flynn stared at the Greek God that confronted her. He had the rugged face of a man who has had to fight for what he wanted, and won. Cassidy had expected to meet a man who had had everything handed to him on a silver platter, including a beautiful face, courtesy of a plastic surgeon, if not nature. He stood well over six feet, much too tall for her. Now why did that thought pop into her head?
If the eyes were the mirror of the soul, Cassidy shivered, because this man was soulless. His bottomless black eyes never blinked. He looked like he was about to swing her over his broad shoulders and run out the door with her and she wasn’t too sure she would mind. If he wasn’t hiding abs of steel under that fancy jacket of his, then she would dance on the bar when she got home!
If he was the groom, what did he see in Cousin Julia? Julia Jenkins had been a sniveling little sneak thief as a child and it looked like she still wanted everything that belonged to Cassiopeia. However, it didn’t explain why Kelley Flynn and Costas Domides went along with it. There was something dirty going on here, and Cassidy would not leave until she was sure a wedding involving her name was stopped.
Holy moly, she needed to look at something other than Mr. Too Tall and Too Hunky, so Cassidy’s eyes swept the interior of the church. The infamous Kelley Flynn, Cassidy’s birth mother, was hugging and comforting the bride. Aunt Patsy stood nearby, wringing her hands. Julia looked ready to vomit. Whatever scam these people had going on here, Julia would never be able to hold up her end if Aunt Patsy didn’t stay within pinching distance of her. Pinching had been Patsy’s favorite way of keeping her daughter submissive. She had tried it once on Cassidy, but when Cassidy pinched her back the woman freaked.
Julia’s normally mousy brown hair had been dyed a brick red to match Kelley’s.
The sight of Kelley hugging Julia caused
Cassidy a pang. She wanted to believe they were from anger, but she had the horrible suspicion they were caused by the hurt an unloved child felt. She put that thought aside with the hope of never revisiting it; she had no time to analyze the emotions now. Cassidy focused on Julia, whose pale gray eyes were wide and scared. Did they look different from when they were kids? Mascara liberally dripped off Julia’s face. Tears streaked black rivers down her cheeks and splashed onto the pristine white confection she wore. The photographer was still faithfully recording the proceedings. Lovely mementos of a wedding that would never be completed; not as long as Cassidy was there to stop it.
Was Mister Tall, Dark, and Delectable in on whatever the scam was? Or was he the dupe?
“Hey, Cassidy. You didn’t tell me y’all were coming to this shindig. You could have flown over with us. Private jets don’t get held up in Frankfurt.”
Cassidy looked over and saw her erstwhile beau Buck Matthews standing in a nearby pew. If she hadn’t felt sorry for the young man and gone out to dinner with Buck a few nights earlier, she never would have heard about this dastardly plot. He bragged about this high society soiree he had to go to. He had laughed so hard telling her about the bride’s ridiculous name that he never noticed that Cassidy didn’t join in.
Cassidy’s heart had dropped. The ridiculous name Buck found so humorous was the very same name listed on her birth certificate. She knew she had to do something to stop the wedding. If not for that one pity date she would be safely tucked into her own cozy bed in Primrose, Texas totally unaware that her life was in danger on the other side of the world.
Cassidy looked the young man in the eye and the fixed smile on her face grew warmer. “You look real good, Buck. You clean up nice.” The young college student blushed under the warmth of her smile.
“Sit down, Buck. I hope you’re not part of this April Fool’s prank,” the man beside Buck growled.
Cassidy’s spine locked into the perfect posture Grammie had drilled into her as a child. She had to push her indignation to the bottom of the pit of atrocities that she craved vengeance for. April fool’s prank indeed! As if I were some college student with nothing better to do with my life. She owed Buck Matthews a lot for alerting her to the problem. The wedding was set for the next weekend, so she hopped the first plane she could get out of Texas. Cassidy was afraid she’d end up married by proxy if she didn’t do something to stop to the wedding. She had read of things like that happening. Her attorney didn’t think it would be legal, but with the Dolmides money behind whatever was going on, she couldn’t afford to take the chance. She didn’t want some overbearing Greek messing up her life. Her “parents” had done a fine job of that on the day of her birth.
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