by Sun Chara
“Unfinished business.”
“You set me up.” She glanced at Mario, but he avoided direct eye contact. “The show, the gown, the wife…all a con?”
“On the contrary, my love,” Michalis bit back. “You’ve mastered the sleight of hand, having managed to disappear from under my nose twice.”
“Chachee” —she glanced away, her voice quivering— “was in on this?”
“I’m sorry, Jul—” Mario began, but Michalis held up a hand, nixing his apology.
A knife twisted in her breast. This certainly was not a case of distance making the heart grow fonder, but by the glacial glint in Michalis’ eyes, the antithesis, breeding contempt.
“Don’t blame him too much,” Michalis said. “Chachee was doing it for a good cause.”
She snapped her head around.
“The newlyweds.” He set his mouth in a hard line, the skin on his cheeks stretching thin, his features more hawkish. “Mario and—”
“Michalis’ sister,” Mario added, the grin broadening on his face. “Maria.”
“Ahh, what?” The query burst from her mouth, and her knuckles gleamed white on the chair. “Nanny Maria?”
Mario nodded, pleased. “My sweet ex-novitiate.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am.” Mario crossed his heart with his forefinger.
“A novitiate?” Julia shot Michalis a lethal look. “In a sexy negligee, tottering from the bedroom into your arms?” A whoop of sound burst from deep in her throat. “I don’t think so.”
“She’d just left the Order and—” began Mario, but Michalis nabbed the words from his mouth.
“She’d been opening the gifts her cousins had given her for their honeymoon.”
If Julia concentrated real hard, she’d ferret out the funny side to all this, but for the life of her, she couldn’t find it. “I don’t understand. How? When?” Questions crowded on her tongue, ready to tumble out, but she held them in check, as the colossal blunder she’d committed rocked her. “I-I didn’t know you were married, Mario.”
“And to ‘the other woman’ no less,” Michalis fired his shot, right into her heart, his mouth twisting in derision.
“I-I didn’t know,” she repeated, feeling about two inches high.
“That’s because you jetted out of the zone without saying goodbye.”
His sarcasm chafed her skin to the raw, and she struck back, her words targeting the bull’s eye.
“You knew your sister was getting married, and you didn’t tell me?” She shook her head to clear it and stood to her full height of five foot eight inches, but with her stilettos, she almost matched his six-foot height, and speared him with a clear look. “Didn’t even tell me you had a sister?”
“I intended to,” he muttered. “But it got complicated—”
“My fault.” Maria stood behind them, cleared her throat and delivered her bombshell.
“No.” Michalis was quick to interject.
“Yes, Michalis,” she insisted, fingering the white apron covering her purple shift. “You’ve taken care of me all these years, and now I have to do my part.” She gave Julia a faint smile. “Everything was happening at once… my release from the convent, meeting Mario, my upcoming marriage… finding out I had a sister-in-law.” A huff of a breath, and her tone turned apologetic. “Overwhelmed, I’d asked Michalis to let me get used to the sudden changes in my life before—”
“Meeting me,” Julia murmured. “Another change in your ‘world.’”
Maria nodded, her brown curls bobbing. “Both excited and scared, I’d rushed to Michalis that day to meet you—” Her words cracked, and she swallowed. “Then, you walked in on us a-and—”
Flat out floored would hardly describe how Julia was feeling at this moment.
“I felt so guilty…your break-up…confused…” She rubbed her hands over her arms, and peered at Mario beneath her lashes. “Life in the convent or life with Mario?”
“Maria…” Mario interjected, seeing the anguish on her face. “We get it. You don’t have to go on.”
“Yes, I do.” She stepped closer, glancing from one to the other before her gaze settled on Julia. “So I ran away,” she confessed. “Back to the convent, and stayed in seclusion for a month, praying for an answer.”
Such silence, one could have heard a pin drop. Julia dared not breathe, let alone utter a word.
“Mother Superior helped me understand my true calling.” She heaved a deep sigh. “I had to go where God led me…” she blinked tears trembling on her lashes. “And He led me to Mario.”
Mario opened his arms and she ran to him, a nervous hiccup muffled against his vest. “Am I making sense to anyone?”
A rhetorical question of course, but it left Julia wanting to sink through the floor and be washed out to the River Seine.
“But surely…” she thought aloud, allowing her words to drift. “You wore no rings.”
“At the jewelers being reset for our anniversary,” Mario confessed, not fazing her fury toward one tall Greek shipping magnate.
Julia drew in a sharp breath, certain her displeasure was reflected in her eyes, now clashing with Michalis’. “You had a year to set things right…” She crinkled her brow. “…and these last few days you could’ve explained, but…”
“As we were parting company,” he said, his tone indifferent, “there was no need for explanations.”
She squinted at him, shock waves rocking her, and realized it was more than that. Much more.
She and Michalis were locked in a tug-o-war of wills.
His pride…her defiance.
And something far beyond that but she couldn’t quite tag it yet.
Reading the signals, Maria disengaged herself from Mario’s embrace, and mumbling something about dessert, scuttled back inside. Mario extracted a lighter from the pocket of his maitre’d uniform, lit the candles on the table and retreated into the suite.
“I see,” Julia murmured, collapsing in the chair.
“I doubt it,” Michalis muttered, a brooding look on his face.
A romantic melody floated to them from inside the living room, and she cringed. Hardly subtle. Laughter bubbled from her, the sound grating in the already volatile atmosphere between them.
Taciturn, Michalis scowled.
Could she really blame him? Every time he’d tried to reach out to her these last few days in Greece, she’d snubbed him. And then, his big ego kicked in and here they were at another impasse; the other two in the kitchen trying to set up a romantic rendezvous for them. Her shoulders shook with the humor of it, and she hiccupped. Not funny.
“I find nothing amusing here, Julia.”
She nodded. “Of course not.”
Her life was going down the drain, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Except maybe, start by delving into her own doubts, and where they’d flared.
A crescendo of sound in the background, and she straightened in her chair. Lolita.
The pieces were clicking in place. How could a man like Michalis love her? Her mother’s abandonment proved she didn’t deserve to be loved, didn’t it? Julia flinched. Her past fear of being abandoned had sabotaged her future with Michalis at the first test.
She fidgeted in her seat and interlocked her fingers beneath the table.
A sliver of air diffused between her teeth, and Michalis caught the sound, his pointed gaze harpooning into her. A raw ache throbbed inside her. She couldn’t fault her childhood or her mom’s way of life on how things had turned out between her and Michalis. She was responsible for her decisions. She rubbed her hands over her arms, calming the goosebumps …not from chill in the air but from the ice-front blowing from Michalis.
She’d made a doozy of a faux pas where he was concerned. It had not only cost her a year of heartache and Amy not knowing her father but it had almost cost her sister-in-law’s happiness.
“I-I’d like…to explain.” A blush sheathed her body, and a shiver slid
down her spine. The blush reflected her embarrassment, and the shiver because Michalis Leonadis was not a man who forgave easily. Her stunt had cost him three months of his daughter’s life, not to mention mega bucks and their high-profile break-up splashed on every media outlet.
A foreboding silence ensued, except for the whirring of a helicopter above them.
She could very well be too late in her attempt to make amends for her foolhardiness.
His next words jotted a period at the end of her assumption.
“A little late in the game for that, Julia. It changes nothing.”
Heartless boor, but she kept her choice words to herself.
He studied her beneath his aristocratic brow. “However, we still have business to discuss where my daughter’s concerned.”
Her heart sank like a stone. Nothing would put a dent in his male armor.
“We-e do.” She nodded her assent, perspiration breaking out from her every pore, a trickle between her breasts. If she could just flee the scene… …flee Michalis…flee the past, the present, and get some semblance of order in her life. Of course, he’d have none of that.
He wanted retribution.
A shockwave jolted through her. And he’d get it. On his terms. That much she knew about the man she’d married.
Her recent escape from Athens had simply compounded the situation between them. Her shoulders sagged. He held all the cards.
Except one.
In the background, the last chord of the song rang out, bringing a hint of a smile to her stiff lips, and with it a glimmer of light in the darkness. He held the deck, but she had the prize he wanted above all. Amy.
Perhaps she could still turn the tables on her husband. Amy deserved the parents that she and Michalis had never had. She’d fight for her daughter and for herself. As much as she denied it, he still left her breathless, her heart yearning for him.
“Of course, you’re right,” she whispered. He might be geared up to punish her for her past deeds, but she intended to take a swing or two of her own. She bit the quiver from her lip. “We must put an end to this.”
His eyes shuttered.
“Perhaps a poor choice of words,” she murmured, but he didn’t take the bait.
“Not at all.” He adjusted the collar of his jacket and snapped the sleeves in place, muting the glint of diamond cufflinks beneath. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”
She nodded, absently fingering the empty champagne flute.
“Now, shall we dine?”
“I’m not hungry.” She leaped to her feet, and her stomach growled. Mortified, she sank back down. “Well, maybe a little.”
“Good.” He chuckled, the sound humorless. “I’ve had a long flight, and I am hungry.” Pulling out a chair, he sat down beside her, so close his thigh grazed hers, his heat slipping into her, alerting her vitals. “You’ll think more clearly after you’ve eaten.”
“I’m thinking clearly now,” she batted back, tightening her grip on the stem of the champagne flute.
His arched brow spoke volumes.
“Crystal clear,” she insisted. His overpowering presence had her shifting in her chair, but his magnetism entrapped her to the spot.
She cast him a veiled glance beneath her lashes, her breath bouncing in her chest, her nerves bopping. The designer threads he wore with such ease made him look so debonair and sexy, she almost raised her hand to fan her feverish face, but exerted extreme self-control. She couldn’t miss a beat where Michalis was concerned; not when there was so much at stake.
“If you insist,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.
An aura of such masculinity emanated from him, triggering erotic sensations inside her, she wondered how she’d make it through the evening.
Not a good sign for her. Maybe if she clobbered him with the warming platter lid—she muffled a giggle. Nope. Not a good idea either.
“Something funny?” he asked, reaching for the champagne bottle.
“Not at all.”
“You still owe me, fantasy girl,” he ground out, wiping the hint of humor from her mouth. “A month’s worth, but we’ll start with tonight.”
“Twenty-four days.”
“Still counting.”
“What if I am?” She tilted her chin in defiance, but her bravado didn’t faze him. Rather it stacked against her.
“It’s twenty-seven,” he clipped, giving her no quarter. “The three days you ditched don’t count.”
Suddenly feeling light headed, she laughed, the sound drifting above the melody in the background. “This is crazy.”
“Actually, it’s good business sense.”
“Is everything business with you?”
He paused, his hand around the bottleneck, his eyes examining every nuance on her face before dipping to her cleavage. A heartbeat, and his gaze bounced back to her eyes, drilling into her and jarring every nerve in her body. “Not everything.”
She drew in a sharp breath, chafing her throat, and dropped her hands in her lap, folding her fingers into fists.
“Business and pleasure works for me.” He popped the cork and the golden liquid foamed, fueling the air with the delicate scent of champagne. “A combo deal.”
“Well, it doesn’t for me.”
He cocked his head, a killer smile on his mouth. “There must be a way to change your mind.”
“Fat chance, Michalis.”
“Mega bucks” – he inclined his head to the manila envelope on the coffee table inside the suite— “seem to do the trick.”
“F-fine.” She clamped down on the hysteria on the brink of bubbling from her. It was what she wanted for her daughter, a secure future. And then annoyance fizzed inside her, and she went one better. “Before or after dinner?”
“Definitely after.”
How could she feel devastatingly attracted to him when he brought out the worst in her? She raised her chin, her bravado a screen, offsetting her reaction to his potent sensuality. “Why this farce, Michalis?” But he also brought out the best in her. Somewhere from deep in her memory, the thought flared to the forefront, but she bashed it down. Any positives on him would weaken her resolve to banish him into her murky past as soon as possible. “Surely there’s no need for this cat and mouse game.”
“I’m a man of my word—” He filled her glass with champagne and then filled his own, the bubbles fizzing in the lull between his words.
She snorted, and gripped the flute, taking a long drink before setting it on the table. So much for her good intentions to take only a sip or two.
“Another?” He pursed his lips, considering her, and poised the bottle above her glass.
She covered the glass with her hand. “No.” Not on an empty stomach, and besides, she needed her wits about her. “This is nonsense.”
“You think discussing what’s best for our child—”
Her hand flew to her temple, her head buzzing. “I don’t want anything of yours.”
He paled beneath his austere features. “Does that include Amy?”
“No!”
“Don’t sound so shocked.” He plunged the bottle into the ice bucket, and the crunch of ice grated on her nerves. “She’s got my DNA too.”
“You can’t have her.”
“Then you had better be willing to entertain me for the evening.”
“Oh, let’s get it over with.” She made to stand, reaching for the zipper of her dress, but the hem of her gown snagged on the chair leg, and she had to plunk back down or rip the material.
“Here let me.” He slid off his chair, got on one knee and reached to unravel the material.
“Michalis, there’s no need—” Michalis, chivalrous? Her heart jolted. Much better for him to be the ogre so that she could shield her vulnerable emotions for him.
Moonlight glinted on his hair, and she wanted…almost reached out to touch, feel…him. Instead she curled her fingers, her fingernails digging into her palms, and pressed her lips together before she sai
d something revealing.
“There that should do it.”
“Thanks,” she said between her teeth. “Bu-ut I really have to be going.” Just then her stomach rumbled, and she slapped her hand on her abdomen to mute the revealing sound.
“Indulge me.” Amusement tugged the corner of his mouth. “Eat first.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say it’s a farewell of sorts.”
His words gouged a hole inside her, but she pinned a smile on her face, determined to hold her own with this man who had her heart throbbing for him. “What a way to go.”
“On a full stomach?” he joked, lifting a lid from one of the serving platters, and the most delicious aroma reached her.
“Oh yum.” She pinched a potato drenched in olive oil and sprinkled with oregano from the platter and placed it in her mouth. “Delish.” She rolled her eyes in appreciation, provoking him. “I loooove Greek food.”
“And is Greek food all you love?”
“Why Michalis” –she grinned, her cheek bulging with food, chewed and swallowed— “That’s a leading question.” She licked her mouth, then her index finger and thumb, noting his grip tightening on his fork. Good, she’d gotten a reaction, even if it was ever so subtle, and she found that immensely pleasing.
“To which you no doubt have a ready answer.”
The air crackled with combustible ions pulsing between them. A misstep, and she’d be incinerated. For self-preservation, she upped the ante by calling his shot. “I do, if I cared to give it.”
“Perhaps before the night is over, you won’t have any trouble voicing it, hmm?”
Drat the man; he always managed to get the upper hand in any discourse. If she had to go through this farce with him tonight, at least in the morning, she could literarily kiss Michalis Leonadis goodbye.
A stitch of such intense longing assailed her senses, and for a second fogged up her common sense. Except for Amy linking them, she’d have to sever all ties with him in order to go on with her life. Her heart splintered. Every time she looked at her daughter, she’d be crushed, seeing Michalis reflected in her eyes.
“Maria’s a good cook,” she tossed out of left field, needing to change the direction of her thoughts.
