Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

by Donna Fasano

  “Ah.” Her moan escalated, until she shuddered and finally let go of him.

  Trying to hold on to a last shred of control, he released her, trailed kisses along her belly and chest, and sucked on a rosy nipple. She writhed and grabbed his head with both hands, pulling him toward her face.

  “Yes, yes.”

  He groaned, understanding her need. His lips molded to her mouth, and his body covered her. As if on cue, her legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him immediate entrance to his haven. He cupped her cheeks. “Cardia mou, my dear heart, I love you,” he whispered and he buried himself inside her. Exactly where he wanted to dwell. A shudder shook him and he let go of all thoughts.

  An eternity later, Ashley opened her eyes. Nothing compared to the magic of this moment. “I love you, my Greek god.” She raked her fingers through his hair, messing his dark locks over his forehead.

  “Mmm, I like that name, my lovely Aphrodite.” He started rolling to his side, but she held him over her.

  “Don’t. Let me enjoy the feel of you a bit longer.” She massaged his back and patted knotted flesh and hard angles. “You sure know how to use your muscles.”

  A smug smile brightened his chiseled features. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Hungry for what exactly?”

  He burst out laughing and kissed the tip of her nose. “Just for food now. I can have you for dessert later. Although, you never let me savor you slowly.”

  Oh dear, how could she learn to curb her wanton behavior? “I’ve never been like this before. Ever. I mean—”

  “No need to blush. I love your enthusiasm. Maybe one of these days, we’ll learn to slow down while making love. Although, our method is not bad at all.” He slid to the side of the bed and tugged at her hand. “Let’s shower, have dinner, and then enjoy the night,” he added with a wink.

  Shower with him? Ashley swallowed. No way was she going to stand naked next to a man while washing herself. Not any man. The diamonds on her ring twinkled in the dimmed light of the night table lamp. “My fiancé,” she murmured.

  “Yes? Hey, I like that title.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them one by one. “Now don’t linger too long in bed or else... You know.” He chuckled and slipped out of the bed, gloriously naked. She averted her eyes, then turned her head for a quick glance, and stared. Her jaw dropped.

  Oh dear, he was such a handsome specimen. Wide shoulders, muscled back, all tanned and tapering at the waist. Below, the very white imprint left by his swim short tempted her to run a caressing hand over his buttocks. She raised herself, leaning her elbow on the pillow, and watched him stroll to the bathroom.

  “Would you rather have a bubble bath?” he called from the door of the bathroom.

  “Yea...yes.” She almost didn’t hear her throaty murmur.

  “Kookla.” Stefano suddenly spun. His eyebrows arched, he grinned. “I hope you like what you see.”

  Embarrassment burned her cheeks. Unable to talk, she nodded.

  His scorching gaze caressed her breasts. “I like what I see too. Want me back in bed?”

  “No, no, I’m coming. Just get into the tub.” She pulled the sheet to cover herself.

  His laughter resonated, soon covered by the running water.

  She collected her dress and fetched her thong from the floor, only to realize its elastic sideband was torn. Oh dear, she couldn’t go outside without some underwear. Even with a dress hiding, whatever... When she entered the bathroom, the sheet twirled around her body like a beach wrap. Stefano already lazed in the tub, decently covered by a blanket of bubbles.

  “I can’t wear this and I can’t not wear it.”

  He snatched the little white thing dangling from her hand. “No,” he said with a serious tone. “Topless is acceptable on the beach, but not bottomless. I’ll find you something. Don’t worry. This is my trophy.”

  “Stefano, I’m not joking.”

  “But I am. Come on, kookla, the water is deliciously warm.” He dropped her thong in the water and pulled the sheet away from her.

  She hastened to enter the tub at the opposite end, and submerged herself under the bubbles. The fragrance of eucalyptus and rose soothed her. “That feels so good.”

  “Why are you so far away?” He tugged at her feet and drew her toward him. Her head dipped under water. With the next move, she found herself sitting between his open thighs. His arms closed around her waist.

  “Oh, this wasn’t my idea of a bubble bath.”

  “Trust me, it’s the best way. We’ll clean each other.”Already his hands lathered her breasts and trailed low on her belly. “You see we can’t rush now. We’d risk drowning. Or sloshing all the water on the floor.”

  “I should have known that with you a bath is not a simple bath.”

  He chuckled. “I’m an efficient man, good at double tasking.” As if to confirm his point, he nibbled at her throat and his fingers slid between her thighs and played with her folds.

  She moaned and grumbled. “No fair. Give me some soap.” She worked a good lather, bent down and rummaged an eager hand between the dense bubbles. “Ah, ha.” Her fingers closed on his shaft.

  “Easy, my love. Don’t play with fire.”

  She chuckled. “More like with water and soap and...” The hardness growing between her hands proved the joke was on her. His hands clamped on her hips to lift her up. Losing her balance, she released him. In a swift motion, he turned her to face him and lowered her on top of that same hardness she’d just teased. It wriggled and slid triumphantly inside her.

  “I give up, my kookla. Slow lovemaking is not our forte. But I love every move we make.” And move, he did. Rocking with her until he was totally embedded inside her. She cradled his face and they kissed, moaned, groaned and shuddered together. Fireworks exploded in her mind, followed by a relaxing rainbow of colors.

  “Oh, Stefano,” was all she could mumble and repeat.

  “My darling, my love,” he answered, after exhaling aloud.

  “I think we’re very clean, after soaking so long. I’m famished now. For food,” she hastened to add.

  “Me too.” He chuckled and stretched his arms wide. He helped her out of the tub and followed her. Any shred of modesty she had a moment ago must have dissolved in the soapy water. He held a large towel open and wrapped it around her.

  “Here,” he handed her a short navy terry robe. “No need to get more fancy. We’ll eat under the stars.”

  “Where are your skipper and his fiancée?”

  “Probably in their rooms. The yacht is not moving. Mikhali must have thrown down the anchor in one of the coves for the night.” Stefano wore a similar robe to the one he gave her, and opened the drain to empty the tub.

  “Oh my God,” she said, watching the water level lower in the tub and her thong emerge. “Oh dear, I can’t believe we’ve been so careless.” Grabbing his arm, she shook it frantically. “We haven’t used a condom. Am I wrong? Stefano, tell me I’m wrong.”

  His gaze serious, he shook his head. “No, we haven’t. You made me forget the whole world. It’s my fault, but we’re engaged. And we’ll marry soon. If we made a baby, I’ll be a very happy father. I hope you don’t regret our lovemaking.” A cloud masked his previous cheerfulness.

  “No regrets at all, my Greek god. I love the new memories we’ve created on your yacht.”

  He ushered her up the stairs to the deck where they found a lovely table set with a vase of roses, two candles waiting to be lit and a bottle of ouzo. Stefano filled two glasses with his national drink and handed her one. “To my lovely fiancée.” He raised his glass and clinked it against hers.

  “To our happiness.” A happiness they had created out of the unhappy past of their families. “We should never let anyone or anything separate us.” Thank God, she didn’t have meddling and autocratic parents like poor Elena.

  ~*~

  In the morning, Stefano dropped her at her hotel. The previous night, after a wonderful
dinner under a canopy of twinkling stars and a full moon, they went to bed for another try at slow lovemaking that turned out to be even more passionate than their earlier ones. Exhausted, they’d collapsed, and she slept in Stefano’s arms till the morning.

  Ashley chuckled as she felt his cotton briefs under her dress while walking up the stairs to her room. She’d asked Stefano to drive her to her hotel to change. He’d pick her up in a couple of hours to take her to the Pink Villa. A brief shower rejuvenated her. “I have to call Grandpa,” she said out loud while drying and setting her hair. “That’s going to be a hard pill for him to swallow. Me and his former enemy.” She really needed to introduce the subject slowly, carefully to avoid giving her grandfather a sudden heart attack.

  After donning an orange and yellow strapped dress—Stefano had mentioned he loved that style on her—she emptied her purse on the bed, looking for her cell phone. The torn thong maliciously fell on the phone and an envelope. Yorgho’s last letter to his Elena.

  Now was a good time to read it. Nothing could dim the happiness in her heart, not even Grandpa’s farewell to his beloved. Ashley sliced the top of the envelope and extracted the thin blue sheet of paper to read.

  My dearest Elena,

  I hope my letter will help you improve. I will do my best to fulfill my promise and bring our grandchildren together.

  Ashley gasped, frowned, and continued reading, hardly believing her eyes.

  Your plan B is complicated but maybe will have more chance of success, if plan A doesn’t work, and your grandson refuses to meet Ashley. As a Greek, he would be more amenable to matchmaking than my Ashley. I know she will never agree to give him a chance. My dear granddaughter can be so stubborn at times.

  Understanding slowly dawned on her. Oh God, oh no, please. It can’t be true. A lump formed in her throat. She dropped on the chair facing the desk, and forced herself to read.

  Anyway, my dear Elena, I already refused to sell my shares to young Kostapoulos, although I don’t care about the Pink Villa that never brought us happiness. Ashley will go to Mykonos to defend my case. Since you agreed to the demolition, your grandson will have no remorse about destroying the old villa. He and Ashley will have to meet, argue and hopefully be in contact long enough to fall in love. My granddaughter is a lovely young woman and if your Stefano is the handsome man you describe, I hope something good will start between them. All we can do is hope that our little ploy works well.

  My dear friend, I pray every day for your health.

  With my deepest affection,

  Forever yours,

  Yorgho.

  Hands shaking, Ashley stared at the missive Elena never received, and re-read the words that didn’t make sense.

  Grandpa, how could you do that? He loved his Elena so much he’d sacrifice his own granddaughter? He’d plot to have her marry the grandson, or great-grandson, of people he hated all his life, of the unscrupulous man who’d forced his daughter to leave her lover.

  Ashley’s pulse raced so fast she had trouble breathing. Tears blurred her vision. The complicated scheme hadn’t stopped the two old and sick people from conspiring together. She would have laughed at their ingenuity if her own future wasn’t in the balance. Grandpa and his friend had played with her life and her feelings. Resentment boiled in her heart and she gulped in a breath of air.

  To think she and Stefano got engaged last night. Had he known about their plans?

  She searched through the lines for an answer. In plan A, his grandmother was supposed to approach him on the subject. Had she done it? Did he refuse?

  Was that why he wanted to meet her before the court hearing?

  A worse possibility surfaced in her mind. Did he propose to satisfy his grandmother?

  Ashley cast another look at the letter. As a Greek, he would be more amenable to matchmaking. She hiccupped on a sob. Maybe even a marriage of convenience. Just like his sisters. Was that what Grandpa had in mind when he talked to the judge and Stefano in her absence?

  Good Lord, what a perfect business deal, offering his granddaughter in marriage, to fulfill his promise to his Elena, and Stefano, getting the villa’s shares in exchange, without a trial or too much trouble. Some of her grandfather’s words and reactions on the phone made sense now. The thought that Stefano might have agreed to that sham rankled her.

  Disgusting. I hate them. All.

  She crumpled the sheet of paper and threw it on the bed. She was in no shape to confront Stefano now. Of course, he would deny it. All convicts do at first. She had to collect herself, think about it with a cool head as if it was a case handed to her. No way to do it here, in Mykonos. Stefano would try to convince her of his innocence. If he used his expert hands and lips, she’d lose her case right away.

  She couldn’t call her grandfather. In spite of his deceit, he was still her beloved grandpa—going senile probably at the thought of his Elena about to die and wanting to give her a last moment of satisfaction. No, Ashley couldn’t call him and prompt a stroke with her accusations. What would she accomplish anyway? The deed was done.

  Collect yourself, Counselor Sheppard and think rationally. Even if it hurts so much. Even if you want to close your eyes and forget the nightmare.

  A couple of days in Athens would help her calm down. She snorted, biting her lip. As if she could handle her own situation with the same objectivity she used in court. Regardless, she had to try and see clearly.

  With a sigh, she hoisted a carry-on on the big armchair, collected her clothes and stuffed them in. Once her carry-on closed, she gathered the things she’d scattered on the bed, and prepared what she needed to bring in her purse.

  Last, she smoothed the letter and slid it back in the envelope.

  Rubbing her hand, she listed the things she had to take or do. Her fingers stopped on her beautiful ring. This had to be the shortest engagement she’d ever heard of. She pulled the ring off her finger, kissed it, and wrapped it in a tissue, then shoved it inside the infamous letter, and slipped her grandfather’s missive into a big yellow envelope provided by the hotel.

  Without a backward glance at her room, she dragged her carry-on to the elevator. While riding to the lobby, she wore her sunglasses, and stopped by the desk. “Kalimera, Vasilis. Good morning. Please, give this big envelope to Mr. Kostapoulos when he comes.”

  “Kalimera. Are you traveling?”

  “Only for two days. I’m keeping the room.”

  “Have a good trip, kyria.”

  Ashley nodded. It would probably be the worst trip of her life.

  Chapter 13

  “What do you mean Kyria Sheppard left on a trip?” Stefano glared at the receptionist.

  The man swallowed audibly. “She left this envelope for you, Mr. Kostapoulos.”

  Stefano took the envelope and went to sit on a chair in the corner of the lobby away from the curious eyes of the man. Tearing the yellow paper, he extracted another envelope, and scowled at Yorgho’s handwriting and the letter he’d given Ashley last night. He opened it and gasped. She was returning his ring. Why? What happened?

  Second thoughts about marrying a Greek, Ashley?

  He hid the ring in his pocket and started reading. A series of expletives escaped him. And then he shook his head. Oh Yaya, I can’t believe you managed to plot all this while you were suffering so much. Poor Yaya, she was thinking about him even in her worst moments.

  Now he needed to find Ashley and convince her he knew nothing about this scheme. Good thing he got impatient and came to pick her up half an hour early.

  He walked back to the receptionist to ask when she left. “Only ten minutes ago.”

  “Did she take a taxi?”

  “No, she walked toward the harbor.”

  God bless the curious man who made it his job to eavesdrop and check on everything. Stefano slipped him a bill that the man hastened to pocket. “Good luck, Mr. Kostapoulos.”

  But Stefano was already out of the hotel, striding down the busy street lea
ding to Mykonos port. A few women dragging carry-ons had him accelerating in their directions, only to grumble in disappointment. Ashley was nowhere in sight. By the time he reached the harbor, the ferry to Athens Piraeus Port had already left. Stefano grimaced at the sight of the big boat sailing to open sea. Not one to be deterred, he knocked on the office of the manager of the transportation line. “I’m Dimitri Stefano Kostapoulos.”

  Dropping his family name often opened doors, even those tightly sealed. “I need to reach that ferry. A matter of life and death.” He conspicuously lowered his hand to his pocket and extracted his wallet. “How much to rent a small speed boat to reach the ferry?” He showed several bills to the clerk whose eyes widened with greed.

  “It’s expensive. You have to rent the boat, pay a sailor, get a permit, and we need to contact the ferry.” Stefano scowled. “But it can be arranged, Mr. Kostapoulos.” The man advanced an eager hand.

  Stefano gave him several bills. “I’ll have more for you when you bring that boat. Now. Right away.”

  “Immediately, Mr. Kostapoulos.” The man pocketed the bills, reached for his phone, and gave stern orders. “Come, sir, Gus is in his boat. He’ll take you there.” He accompanied Stefano to the dock and called a young man in black shorts and tee shirt. “Take Mr. Kostapoulos to that ferry. Full speed. I’ll pay you later. Good luck, sir. I’m going to call the ferry captain to notify him of your arrival.”

  ~*~

  Oblivious to the throng of passengers crowding behind her, Ashley stood at the rear of the ferry, watching the harbor, more precisely the elegant yacht she called her Love Boat. Only this morning, she’d been snuggling against Stefano. And last night—

  Tears filled her eyes. It’s not fair. Her well-ordered world had suddenly been tilted off its axis. The two times he’d invited her on the Athena, he’d made her feel special, loved, treasured. Had a bad witch decreed that Ashley should pay for every minute of happiness with days of despair?