Greek Millionaire, Unruly Wife

by Sun Chara

  Julia stilled in his arms, and he shifted, shielding her with his body. “That guy’s fired.” A heave of a breath, and he reluctantly pulled away, and then paused at the panic look on her face.

  “What?”

  “My clothes.”

  He nodded, tossed her his shirt hanging from a bamboo shoot and slipped into his shorts. Planting a quick kiss on her mouth, he took her hand and jogged with her to a clearing on the beach, waving.

  “We see you,” the pilot announced hovering overhead.

  In a daze, Julia wondered how being with Michalis could feel so right in her heart and so wrong in her mind. Before she could formulate an answer, the chopper began its descent, and he pulled her into the crook of his arm, protecting her from the flying sand.

  Her pulse kicked into high gear, the traitorous image branded on her brain, hurling to the forefront of her memory and lacerating her emotions anew. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. She’d seen him with her. Surely, her eyes couldn’t lie, could they?

  Chapter 10

  “Amy!” Julia leaped from the limo as soon as it swerved into the driveway, and snatched her daughter from the nanny’s arms. Barely glancing at the nanny, she showered the child with kisses, and gave the sitter a quivery smile. “Thank you.” A pause, a frown, and the question shot from her mouth. “But how did you know we’d be here so soon?”

  “Michalis.” The young woman glanced his way from beneath her huge sunhat, her body language speaking volumes, and then she hurled herself into his arms.

  A flash of memory, but Julia shook her head, unable to grasp it.

  “Hey, nothing to worry about.” He held onto her a little too long, his eyes clashing with Julia’s over the girl’s head.

  Julia’s stomach dove, and there went that clenching in her belly again.

  Dismissing the uneasy feeling, she held onto her baby, glad to be in Athens, and closer to the airport.

  “You gave us all a scare,” the girl said, her words muffled against his sleeve. “Are you alright?”

  “Better, actually.” He winked.

  Julia shot him an astounded look, and he grinned.

  “Fresh sea air, a beautiful woman by my side—”

  “Okay, you needed some time off.” Smiling, she tossed Julia a surreptitious glance. “He works much too hard, don’t you think?” She hooked her arm through his and strolled right by her and Amy toward the house. “Where’s Mario?”

  “Had to get back to the office.”

  Julia followed them inside and paused in the foyer, a nerve ticking at her temple. “I think I’ll get Amy ready for her nap.” She stepped onto the stairwell and turned to climb the stairs.

  “Lunch will be served on the patio,” the young woman announced, seeming more like the owner than the sitter. “I figured you’d be hungry after all that excitement.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not very hungry,” Julia murmured over her shoulder.

  “Come, Julia,” Michalis said, patting the other woman’s hand. “Can’t disappoint…” He inclined his head at Maria, draped on his arm. “You haven’t eaten all morning.”

  “I’ve left Amy’s things in the nursery,” the nanny said, then clapped her hands. “We’ll have a party.” She nodded, her brown curls bobbing beneath her hat and her eyes alight with energy. A celebration for your safe return and a warm-up for our wed—”

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Julia fled up the stairs and dashed into the nursery, holding Amy close to her heart. Seismic shocks vibrated through her, and she sagged against the closed door, the shadowed images in her mind clearing; she’d seen them together, her running from the bedroom into Michalis’ arms. A whimper sounded from her mouth. She’d died that day.

  Amy gurgled and squirmed in her arms, and she loosened her grip just a bit.

  How could Michalis hire his mistress as the nanny for their child? And if that hadn’t been enough, how could he be planning to marry the girl while dallying with her, Julia? What kind of a man had he become? Had he always been a louse? And she, the naïve fool hadn’t caught on until it had been too late.

  Her stomach roiled, and she sucked in oxygen, chasing blackness from her eyelids. And what did that make her? She’d agreed to this proposition, hadn’t she?

  For Amy. The whisper-soft words eased her conscience.

  She caressed the baby’s head, and choking down the bitter taste sheathing her tongue, found solace in hugging her child. If she hadn’t had to keep upright to protect Amy, she would have slithered to the floor, raw pain washing over her and leaving her numb. But she didn’t have that luxury, so on seemingly wooden legs she walked to the crib to attend to her child.

  Minutes later, the door clicked open, and she looked up from changing Amy, her heart faltering. “I can manage, thanks.”

  “No doubt.” Michalis stood gripping the doorframe unable to take his eyes off his wife and child. Regret slammed his gut. He took a step closer, wanting to enfold them both in his embrace, and somehow ease the widening rift between him and Julia.

  “Why’d you rush off like that?” he demanded, scowling. So much for good intentions.

  “You need to ask?”

  “I do.”

  Instead of answering his question, she batted him a level look and provoked him with a question of her own. “What do you want?”

  He wanted a lot of things, but one look at her set face and he realized this wasn’t the time to tell her. “I’ve accepted the dinner invite for us.”

  “I’m sure you’ll both have a nice time.”

  “Of course—” He lowered his lashes, his narrow focus tacking her to the crib post. “Okay, spill.”

  “It’s the nanny, Michalis, isn’t it?”

  “Of course, it’s the nanny.” A perplexed look crossed his features. “You already know that.”

  She paled, and her lip trembled. “You admit it…finally?”

  “Yes.” A line carved his forehead. “You heard her, she’s giving a party for—”

  “I heard.”

  “You’ll come?”

  “No.”

  “You’ll disappoint our nanny.”

  A brittle laugh. “You mean your nanny.”

  “Enough, Julia.” He took a deep breath, exhaled a typhoon and paused, debating. Then, “She’s not my nanny as you term it. She’s my—”

  “You’d better go,” she said, her words frosty. “You don’t want to disappoint her.”

  “She’s expecting us.”

  “You’ll have to go alone.” She reached for the baby’s bottle and, squirting a drop on her inner wrist, tested the temperature. “I’m busy.”

  “I’ll take Amy and—”

  “No!”

  “—you can meet us next door later.”

  She held up her hand, swallowed and swatted a loose curl off her brow. “I’d rather not.”

  “I’ll wait ’til you’re ready.” He plunked down on the plush armchair in the corner and crossed one leg over the other, like he had all the time in world. See what she made of that. “We’ll go together.”

  “No we won’t,” she said, voice firm. “The noise, the music…she needs to sleep.”

  The child sat in the middle of the crib, gurgling and playing with a soft toy.

  “Seems like Amy’s ready to party.”

  Julia gawked at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Then, you’ll join me…us?” he asked, the words snapping off his tongue, his gaze slitted. “Won’t you?”

  She shook her head and settling Amy beneath the blanket, stroked her cheek with her forefinger. “I can’t leave her again.”

  “All right, Julia,” he said, a sigh bursting from his mouth. “Kyria Phytakis, the housekeeper will watch her here.”

  “You go.” She adjusted the cover across the baby’s shoulders and turning a stiff back to him, gave Amy her bottle. “I’ll watch my child.”

  “Amy’s not a possession, Julia.”

  “Does that go for you
, too, Michalis?” She spun around, her eyes flashing fury, her breasts rising and falling.

  He was mesmerized. So beautiful and yet behaving like a shrew. Or was that only where he was concerned? The possibility didn’t sit well with him, and he swung back. “I want what’s best for her.”

  “Then let us alone.”

  He laughed, a dry sound. “Not just yet.”

  She pursed her lips, her eyes narrowed. “Does that mean you will…let us go?”

  He quirked a brow.

  A high-strung sound stung her mouth. “Of course, you won’t.”

  “You’re free to go, Julia,” he said, his jaw tense, his eyes granite hard. “Amy stays with me.”

  You proud Greek, that’s not how to win her confidence. Savagely, he shut his mind to the jab.

  “You’ll be late for the party,” she said, sweetly.

  “It won’t be the same without you,” he retorted in kind, then almost retrieved his words. What was this, high school? He shook his head, amazed how grown-ups could make such a mess of things. Correction; how he and Julia had made a mess of things. Okay, grown-ups.

  “Really, Michalis,” she whispered. “You take my breath away.”

  “It’s a dress up affair,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “A couple of hours next door.”

  “You’ll be next door,” she reiterated. “I’ll be right here with my daughter.”

  “And mine.”

  She shrugged.

  “Woman, you’re trying my patience.”

  A sliver of laughter sounded from her, and it only spurred his frustration.

  “Julia, you forget we have a deal.”

  “Flexing muscle, Michalis?”

  “I prefer to call it common sense.” He scrubbed his face with his palm. “And a gentle reminder.”

  “Huh!” she exclaimed. “More like a weight over my head.”

  “Come now, Julia,” he said, hauling himself from the chair. “You’re being overdramatic.”

  “The drama’s just got started…er…continues.”

  “I can hardly wait,” he mocked, striding to the door.

  “Well, you’ll have to.”

  “Eight this evening.” And with that departing shot, he exited, clicked the door shut behind him and whistled his way down the stairs.

  *

  At seven-thirty that evening, Julia sat on the bed still not dressed for the party; her clothes strewn everywhere. She couldn’t stomach watching him and the nanny…the next Mrs. Leonadis and stepmom to Amy, canoodling. A giggle teased her lips, but it morphed into a quiver, and her shoulders sagged.

  Had she actually thought the word ‘canoodling?’ That’s a Chachee word. She sighed, missing her friend and her life in Paris; as threadbare as it had been, it had been hers…she’d been in control. Now, she felt caught in a storm without a rudder, drifting aimlessly.

  She shifted through the dresses, and tossed one after the other aside. To regain her emotional equilibrium and control of her life, she had to get far and away from Michalis Leonadis. A coward’s way out? She shrugged, preferring to think of it as avoiding temptation. Temptation that she might allow something to happen between them that she’d later regret.

  Somehow, she had to make her getaway without him being the wiser. If he caught her…her heart palpitated, panic pricking her insides and for a second immobilizing her…he’d take Amy away from her.

  Pensively, she rose from the bed and picking up another gown, turned, catching her reflection in the mirror; she looked as disheveled as she felt. Well, she wouldn’t pull it off looking like something the cat dragged in.

  She shouldn’t care. Not give a hoot about Michalis and his nanny. But the rub was, she did.

  And so how to play this evening? This could very well be the last time she ‘dressed up’ for him, and she wanted to pull out all the stops. Knock him for six. She wanted to feel empowered, look smashing and leave him regretting that he’d tossed her aside. Yeah, she could then walk away vindicated.

  He’ll have you for the month still, the voice in her head needled. She shut out the taunt, and scooping up a sapphire-colored gown, twitched her nose and hurled it aside. “No, he won’t.” The words whisper-soft from her lips were scored with a hard edge. She’d find an escape route before then, and in a way that didn’t jeopardize Amy’s future.

  She had to.

  Swaying before the mirror, she inclined her head, contemplating. Should she dress as the mannequin…every man’s fantasy? Or the woman she was…one man’s desire? She picked up another dress and held it up before the full-length mirror, jumping at the knock on the door.

  “Kyrios Leonadis is expecting you in ten minutes, Kyria Leonadis,” the maid called from behind the panel.

  Hearing the maid address her as Mrs. Leonadis gave her a jolt, and she blinked the sting of tears from her eyes. If she let her imagination run away, she could almost believe… No! That would lead to disaster for sure. Squashing the silk in her hands, she straightened her shoulders and bashed the foolishness from her mind. “I-I’ll be down shortly.”

  In the end, she decided on the scarlet. He’d brought her here to play the scarlet woman for the month, so she might as well have the glam rags to match. The body-hugging sheath with peek-a-boo slits allowed a glimpse of leg to her thigh, a slash across her cleavage tantalized and another sliced down her back to her posterior for added shock effect.

  She swept her hair up to one side and secured it with a diamond clip, wisps of curls caressing her cheek. Leaving her throat bare, she clipped elongated sparkles on her earlobes and strapped a matching bracelet on her wrist.

  A twinge of regret, and she flexed her bare fingers. She’d hurled her wedding ring across their bedroom that last day, but for some reason now felt naked without it. A nervous giggle skimmed her mouth. Well, hardly that, although a bit risqué would be right on; she brushed a hand over her hip and twisted, studying her reflection in the mirror. She shrugged, slipped her feet into stilettos, and picked up her evening bag.

  A heave of a breath, and then another. “Come on, you can do this.” A second later, she glided out of the room and down the stairs. When she reached the bottom step, she gripped the banister, not wanting to let go.

  “Julia.” Michalis stood in the center of the floor, her name a soft caress from his lips. His eyes glittered, and he lowered his lashes, eclipsing the desire in them.

  An air pocket expanded inside her but dissolved in her throat before it burst from her in frustration. Definitely her imagination was working overtime, but his magnetism drew her in, even as she resisted the pull. Dressed in designer slacks, matching jacket and a silk shirt unbuttoned halfway to his waist, he stole her breath.

  “Michalis.” She tightened her grip on the banister, his name a breath of sound from her mouth. How was she going to get through the evening with her sexy husband, who wasn’t really hers? Had he ever been? Her nerves bopped, her stomach flipped and her mind reeled.

  Twenty-seven days left.

  Could she carry out the ruse for that long, if he stonewalled her attempt to escape tonight?

  *

  “Yoo hoo, Michalis, Julia,” Maria waved, dressed in classic black with flecks of gold. “Over here.”

  Michalis grasped Julia’s elbow, guiding her through the gathering party goers, an austere look on his features. A waiter placed a champagne flute in her hand, and she accepted it—hey, she was here to play a part, so she might as well go with it. Michalis, on the other hand, declined a drink.

  When they reached the girl, Maria closed her eyes and swayed to the bouzouki music, humming beneath her breath. “Remember this?” She lifted her lashes, a mischievous look in her pupils, and grabbed his arm. “Come.”

  Michalis shot a look at Mario leaning negligently against a marble mantle by the blazing fire. His legal whiz raised his glass and grinned.

  Time to canoodle.

  Maria snuggled up to Michalis, and pushed him onto the dance floor as the tem
po of the music picked up to a traditional Greek folk dance. Clapping, the crowd formed a circle around them and shouted, “Opa!”

  Finally, the melody reached a crescendo and the dance ended. A radiant Maria threw herself into his arms and kissed his cheek. “I can still out maneuver you on the dance floor,” she teased.

  “Thanks I get for teaching you the moves.” Michalis tapped the tip of her nose with his thumb, placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward Mario.

  Michalis’ words conjured up illicit scenes… Julia backed further away, blood draining from her face, chills invading her body. Her barely touched champagne swished in the glass, and she set it on a nearby table, thankful for the wall propping her back. After all this time, she’d come face to face with the other woman once again; amazing she hadn’t recognized her at the start.

  A cynical sound slid between her teeth. Of course, the hat, the sunglasses should’ve tipped her off, but she hadn’t expected Michalis to stoop so low. Hiring his mistress as the nanny for their child and keeping her living practically under their roof. She was about to be sick. Bile rose in her throat and perspiration broke out on her upper lip. An anguished cry burst from her, and pressing a hand to her mouth, she glanced around for an escape.

  “Julia?” Mario stepped up beside her and brushed her shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

  Michalis glanced her way, pinning her to the spot, the smile swiped from his mouth. A frown creased his forehead. Gently, he nudged Maria toward Mario, and took a step to bridge the gap between them.

  Frantic, Julia pushed away from the wall, and meandered through the milieu of people until she found solace on the terrace. It didn’t last. Hushed voices floated to her, barely audible amidst music and chatter sailing out from the main salon.

  “A nice couple…marriage…good …”

  From beneath her lashes, Julia peered at the women sitting at a table in the corner, and the words on the tip of her tongue, ‘wouldn’t recommended it,’ morphed into a brittle laugh. Everything was a blur of emotion and pain. She clutched the rail, staring far out to sea, then glanced up at the star-studded sky.

  “The groom…disentangle…to get her.” A laugh. “A nice story.”