Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

by Donna Fasano

  “You felt the link too?” Coralee squeezed Tee’s hands, which were now locked between hers.

  “Yeah! It was weird. You were so deeply embedded in my psyche that I couldn’t shake you. Your essence was like a blanket of loving. You protected me. Sounds freaky I know, but it’s the God’s honest truth. I had to find you. It’s all I thought about, cared about.” Her voice broke with emotion held in too long. She sobbed heartbrokenly, loudly like only Tee could. Gruff, hoarse cries emanating from her lost soul. Cries that were embedded for years and, up until now, stubbornly held in. Vital, cleansing sobs craving release.

  Tee wrenched herself off the sofa and twisted away to cover her shameful display.

  Coralee, galvanized, leapt to her side and had the broken girl in her arms like a flash, kissing her hair, her cheeks and patting her back as she mumbled brokenly, “I do love you, have always loved you. I sang to you and talked to you for hours while you were nestled safely in my tummy.” She smiled, reminiscing. “I was so scared I would hurt you, so I read every book I could get my hands on at the library about being a good mother. I even read them to you.” Giddily chuckling, she rocked her daughter back and forth, back and forth, in a motherly rhythm she’d previously recoiled from. Happy tears ran down her face, into her mouth and over her chin, but they were ignored. Both woman and girl luxuriated in their nurturing togetherness.

  “What about my father?” Tee asked.

  Coralee made eye contact while she shared what she considered to be vital information. Her hands gently brushed the girl’s cheeks. “Your daddy was a mixed-up street kid just like me. He was sweetness dressed in baggy pants, long hair and a constant need for a cigarette. No job, sixteen and drifting, and no help at all in my predicament. I loved him and was heartbroken to later learn he’d been killed in a car crash.”

  “I’ll never get to meet him. I had hoped to find him as well. There were so many things I dreamt of asking the both of you. Like, what was the name you picked for me?”

  “Sweetheart, your name was to be Teresa Ellie. I named you after a little girl I had as a playmate when I was small. I loved her. She was the closest thing to a sister I ever had and the gentlest spirit I ever met, always smiling and happy. I wanted that for you, so I gave you her name.”

  “They didn’t keep the name for me. They called me Connie. I hated it because I learned it was the same name as the woman who first adopted me. When I tried to read your files at the Social Services office, all I could see of the name you had given me was T.E. and so I decided then and there it would do until I found out the rest.”

  “Heavens, Tee, I hate that you had such an unhappy life. For your sake, I wish it wasn’t so. For my sake, I thank God you came to find me. I will never, ever let you go again, do you hear me? You’re stuck with me now, kiddo.”

  “What about Lee? I thought you guys were getting married? You’ve been flashing your diamonds around here all morning.”

  “Don’t you like him, honey? You always seemed to get along so well.” Coralee’s panic showed in her voice while her damp eyes grew rounder.

  “Hey, Mom, don’t freak out. I like him already. He’s cool.” Squeezed suddenly by the arms surrounding her, Tee yelled. “Ow, not so hard!” They both laughed out loud, tears forgotten.

  Coralee ordered, “Say it again! Say ‘Mom.’ I love it! Come on, say it.” Dancing her daughter around the room in a crazy loony-tunes way, she rambled on in joyous abandon.

  “Okay, already. Mom!”

  “My daughter!”

  “Mother mine!”

  “My beautiful baby girl!”

  “My old lady!”

  “Cheeky brat! Now you’re grounded!”

  Chapter 67

  The day was full of sunshine, sweet flowery smells and happy hearts. Grandma Evie’s gardens were the perfect backdrop for the milling groups chattering, laughing and visiting.

  Angelina decided to leave Coralee and Tee alone in her room so they could share some special moments together before the ceremony. Ever since they’d come out of her office the day Adam Small had revealed their relationship, a closeness had sprung up between the two that was beautiful to watch. The whole office had celebrated upon hearing the wonderful news. She wouldn’t lay bets on who was happier, Tee, Coralee or Lee. Gliding up the hallway, Angelina, careful not to step on her gown’s flounces, stumbled when her father all of a sudden appeared in front of her.

  “Hola, Papá! Were you coming to see me?”

  “Si, mi hija. Since we flew in for the wedding this morning, I’ve been trying to get a moment alone with you.”

  “Is there something wrong?” Angelina didn’t like the serious look on his face. Anxiety overcame happiness and sent shivers down her backbone.

  “No, no, my Angel. Everything’s fine. It’s just that tu mamá informed me that you weren’t planning to come back to Chile and work with your brothers and me in the business. It made me feel sad.”

  “Well, I lost the bet, didn’t I? Therefore, according to our rules, you honestly couldn’t offer me a position.” This was the moment she’d worked so hard for, to be vindicated, to earn the right to be proud of her accomplishments. She should be devastated for failing.

  Surprisingly, after searching inside her heart, Angelina had come to the conclusion a while back that winning didn’t really matter anymore. She knew she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do, but had kept it a secret. No one but Joe understood. She’d earned the wherewithal to pay off her outstanding debt. But she hadn’t done it.

  As for as her letting her father find her a husband, that wasn’t going to happen either. After all, she’d found her own, hadn’t she?

  A shifty look appeared on his face. He wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  What was going on?

  Taking her in his arms, her father hugged her close and whispered, “You did win the bet, querida. We both know that to be true. I think you chose not to accept the prize because you don’t want to leave a certain handsome young doctor, si?”

  Pulling away so she could look him in the eye, she saw his certainty. “How can you know that, Papá? What makes you so sure?”

  He ducked his head slightly, first one way and then the other. “I have a lot of friends here in Canada. Let’s just say that I regretted having forced you into this act as soon as you’d flung the challenge at your stubborn old papá. These last two years have been hellish, not having my little girl around. Now, I see that my foolishness has cost me my daughter. For that, I am sorry, my Angel.”

  “Oh, Papá! Me too. I missed you and the family terribly. But I’ve made a life here now, and you’re right about me and Joe. We love each other. Soon, there’ll be another wedding to attend.”

  She saw the pain her words induced, sorrow he couldn’t hide, and she hugged him again. “I’ll travel home often, I promise.”

  He squeezed her to him and sighed long and loud. “Si! That would make tu mamá very happy.”

  ~*~

  When the music filtered through the laughter, everyone quickly made their way to the rows of white-covered chairs that led to a beautiful altar, completely swathed in pink and white flowers. White satin bows decorated each of the first chairs in the rows, and the red carpet, winding along the aisle, lay waiting for the bride and her ladies.

  Tee had never felt so excited. Her signal to begin the procession had just been heard. Dressed in light pink flounces--though at first she’d argued violently and was eventually won over by Coralee’s bribes—she had a very important part to play.

  In front, Angelina looking fetching in her replica, but brighter pink gown, started toward the waiting minister.

  Tee reached out to Coralee, who was fiddling with her veil. “Mom, this is it. No turning back. You really want to marry Lee Nivens, for better, forever?

  Laughing gaily, Coralee grabbed Tee’s hands and repeated, “Do you want to marry him with me—for better, forever?”

  “Oh yeah! He’s my driving instructo
r, he’ll be the reason I pass math this year and… of all of us, he’s the best cook.”

  “Then lead on, my girl.” Coralee grinned and twined her arm with her daughter’s. Half a dozen steps later, they appeared on the plush carpet.

  Stunning, in a traditional white satin and lace confection, Coralee produced gasps of wonder, smiles and even a few tears from the guests.

  ~*~

  During the wait for his bride, and with Joe by his side, Lee whispered, “Watch how it’s done, my man. It’ll be your turn next.”

  Lee, in a black tuxedo, had cleaned up extremely well. Thanks to Tee’s bugging, he’d let his hair grow, had it styled differently and his ears seemed diminished in size.

  Using one of Tee’s favorite slang expressions, Joe decided he was stoked seeing his best friend so happy. “Got it! But, remember you’re taking on not one but two females, my friend.”

  Lee shoved against Joe’s shoulder and nodded toward Grandma Evie and Rosario, who were surrounded by Angelina’s father, mother and two large good-looking brothers. “True, but my girls are orphans.”

  Joe blanched and his smile wobbled.

  Lee laughed until he saw his beautiful girls and all else faded.

  A Note from the Author

  Thank you so much for reading I’m No Angel.

  I loved writing this story and I hope you enjoyed reading it. If so, I would ask you for a favor. Wherever you purchased this book, please take a few minutes and leave an honest review. Authors enjoy hearing that readers like their stories, and hopefully, others will read your words and choose to buy the because of your sentiments.

  My website at http://mimibarbour.com now has all my books listed with links to the various publishers to make it easy for you to return to where you bought the book and to find my other work.

  While you’re there, I’d really appreciate it if you would sign up for my newsletter so I can keep in touch.

  http://mimibarbour.com/contact.html#newsletter

  I only send out newsletters approximately once a month and you have my word that your address will never be shared.

  Contact me at:

  My website: http://www.mimibarbour.com/

  Or my blogspot: http://mimibarbour.blogspot.com

  Or follow me on twitter: https://twitter.com/MimiBarbour

  Or on Facebook: Mimi Barbour Fan page

  Please sign up for my Newsletter: http://mimibarbour.com/contact.html#newsletter

  Her Greek Tycoon

  Mona Risk

  Copyright © 2012 by:

  Mona Risk

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.

  Praise and Awards

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Outstanding Achiever 2013 Award at Affaire de Coeur Magazine

  Best Romance Novel winner at Preditors & Editors Readers Poll

  Two-Time winner of Best Contemporary Romance Novel at Readers Favorite.

  EPIC’s Ebook Award Finalist.

  Kindle Top 100 Bestselling Author

  Praise for “Her Greek Romance”

  “This story is steamy with the feisty Ashley meeting up with her very own sexy Greek god where sparks fly and motives clash.”

  ~Debbie A.

  "Ashley and Stefano set the beach on fire. This is basically two memorable love stories in one, and I enjoyed them both. I can't wait for her next novel."

  ~Seniorcitizen

  "The tenderness melded with fiery passion is perfect for that gorgeous setting."

  ~Beth Trissel

  Chapter 1

  Revenge would taste sweet. Yet Stefano Kostapoulos sought no revenge. A sad page of his family’s history needed to be turned once and for all. We will forget the past, he vowed.

  Jaws locked in anger, he scanned the one-story brick house hunkered down on a dune facing the Aegean Sea. A useless shack, frozen in time and abandoned. How he hated the old villa that spoiled the beauty of Mykonos Island.

  His lips still curving in disdain, he slowly squinted. Not that frozen or abandoned, if he was to believe the sight suddenly offered by his binoculars.

  The wrought-iron gate leading to the dilapidated yard slowly opened. And...

  No way.

  A beach bag in her hand, a young woman came out and closed the gate behind her.

  What was going on there? No one had stepped into the Pink Villa since his grandmother Elena became so sick four months ago.

  His fingers tightened on his marine vision tool.

  Unable to believe his eyes, Stefano slapped his free palm on the railing at the bow of his yacht and leaned forward. His breath caught in his throat.

  “I’ll...be...damned.”

  The woman was a vision. Aphrodite in a green sarong. Her reddish blond hair cascaded down her back in a glorious mane. Stefano extended his arm— a wishful gesture to catch the curly strands flying in the gentle breeze.

  Raising his binoculars, he followed the alluring sway of her hips as she crossed the street, ambled along the boardwalk, and stepped onto the sand. After a short pause, she sauntered toward a striped umbrella and dropped her bag on a vacant lounge chair under the shade.

  Without wasting another minute, Stefano unhooked his phone from his belt and punched in his lawyer’s number.

  “Kalimera, Ted, good morning. I’m on the Athena. I saw a woman coming out of the old house. Should we anticipate trouble?”

  “I haven’t heard anything from my American counterpart.” A shuffling noise indicated Ted was searching through his notes. After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. “This woman may be a cleaning maid.”

  Stefano brought the binoculars back to his eyes for a thorough check. Poise and natural elegance emanated from the young woman.

  “Too classy, with a figure to damn a saint, and hair about to set the beach on fire. Definitely no maid here.”

  On the other end of the phone line, a burst of laughter interrupted his enthusiastic description. “Sounds like you’re already on fire. Take a cold drink while I make a few phone calls. I’ll get back to you.”

  “See that you do. Tomorrow we have to win our case in court and get a permit to demolish the dump. I don’t want any surprises.” Breathing deeply to calm his growing nervousness, he inhaled the salty air of the Mediterranean Sea and hooked the cell phone to his belt.

  Determined to keep a vigil on the potential threat created by the presence of a stranger in his grandmother’s house—and what a stranger—Stefano lifted the binoculars again and surveyed the scenario unfolding on the shore.

  The young woman untied her beach wrap to reveal perfect curves molded by the bikini like a second skin and then she threw her cover on the back of the lounge chair.

  “Lovely.” The word escaped him with a groan. Stefano blinked, assessing and admiring.

  Aphrodite’s hands slid behind her back and remained hidden for a good moment. What was she up to? She turned around. This time he could see her profile and her fingers clasped on the hook of her bikini top.

  With impatient twists, he fiddled with his binoculars. To no avail. It was already in perfect focus. Eyes narrowed, Stefano stiffened and zeroed in his attention on the beach.

  Her head swiveled right then left. Was she scanning the stretch of sand carpeted with topless sunbathers? Guessing the woman’s intention, he swallowed hard.

  Take it off or not take it off? What a dilemma.

  She must be a foreigner. Probably a bashful American on her first visit to Greece. No doubt about it. A European beauty wouldn’t have hesitated to remove her bra on a beach where topless was the norm and full bathing suits the exception.

  His senses on alert, Stefano stilled and focused. Would she shy away from revealing herself or follow the locals’ example?

  Her breasts swelled and rose while
she seemed to struggle with her thoughts. Her fingers clenched behind her back on the thin strip of material. With a swift gesture, she unhooked the clasp, snatched the bikini top off, and crumpled it in her palm.

  Stefano sucked in his breath. Simply gorgeous. His hands fisted, and flexed, and he almost dropped his binoculars.

  Did she sense she was being watched? The woman crossed her arms in front of her, and plopped onto the lounge chair, hiding her magnificent breasts from his hungry gaze.

  What was he doing, ogling a foreigner? He raked his hair, embarrassment dousing his excitement. Thousands of beauties lay topless on the Greek shores. He’d never bothered to grant them more than a passing glance. Yeah, but none had hair as fiery as this siren, a skin whiter than his favorite whipped cream, and a figure to revive a dead man. His own body quivered with life, tenting his navy blue shorts. He threw a glance over his shoulder. Luckily, his steward was busy mopping the aft deck.

  “Mikhali, let’s go closer to shore.”

  Stefano didn’t waste time to weigh his decision. He wanted to meet the beautiful redhead. Besides, he needed to discover why she’d visited the old, decrepit place where his grandmother Elena had hidden her grief and tears once a month for half a century.

  His cell phone ring interrupted his musing. He glanced at the number displayed. “Ted, what’s up?”

  “I called the clerk at the court. He received a fax today saying that Mr. Zanis’ lawyer is arriving from America to contest your application for a permit to demolish the Pink Villa.”

  “Damn Zanis and his lawyer. They can’t stop me. My Yaya had suffered for years from the lousy memories held in this place. Stick to the plan.”