“Without the therapy I would never have decided to go in for reconstructive surgery. I think the doctor did a wonderful job. What do you think?”
In front of his disbelieving eyes, she removed the covers to reveal the length of her gorgeous body to his gaze. “Dr. Canfield told me only my husband would know for sure.”
Her humor awed him.
Her courage moved him to tears.
The perfection of her figure left him without breath.
“Dominique—”
“I do believe my husband is speechless. I wonder if that’s good or bad.” She flashed him an impish smile, producing the dimple in her left cheek he hadn’t seen for a year.
“Come to bed.” She raised her soft, graceful arms toward him. “I’ve been waiting for this a long, long time.”
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HUSBAND BY REQUEST
Rebecca Winters
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ONE
“MOM? How do I look in this?” Dominique emerged from the bathroom of their hotel room in New York wearing a new yellow bikini.
Her mother gazed at her with loving, tear-filled eyes. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“You know what I mean.”
“The implant reconstruction is perfect. No one would ever know you had a breast removed.”
“Andreas will notice the difference.”
“Only in the privacy of your bedroom.”
Dominique stared at her mother. “You mean only if he lets me get that close to him again.”
“He will, because you’ll find a way.”
“Now that I’ve seen the doctor, there’s no time to lose.”
“You’ve stayed away from Andreas far too long as it is. Just remember that you were desirable to your husband before the reconstructive surgery. He married you after you had your mastectomy, and since you left him has patently refused to grant you a divorce. I don’t see a problem.”
Dominique saw a huge one. “It’s been a horribly desolate year away from him, Mom. After the way I left him, he’s not going to welcome me back with open arms.”
“No. I’m sure he won’t. But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been working hard at your marriage behind the scenes. Once he understands all you’ve gone through, and why, he’ll love you that much more.”
“Spoken like a mother, but it still might not be enough,” Dominique whispered, her heart aching to see him again. Their separation might as well have been a lifetime.
“That’s over now. Dr. Canfield gave you a clean bill of health this morning.”
Dominique nodded. “It’s the news I’ve been waiting for. In high school I used to wish I were well endowed, but she told me being smaller breasted had made me the best candidate for this kind of surgery. I pray that’s true. If anything does go wrong, and it leaks or encapsulates, I’ll have to have another operation.”
“Darling—before the surgery I heard her tell you that those problems only happen in about ten percent of women. Don’t look for trouble where there isn’t any.”
“I won’t. My whole concern is finding the best way to approach Andreas. I’d like to surprise him, but it’s very difficult when he’s so well protected.”
“Why not just phone him?”
“No. I want him to see me first. You know—catch him off guard. After we’re back in Bosnia I’ll do some detective work, so he’ll never suspect I’m making inquiries.”
“Under the circumstances you’d better hurry and get changed, so we won’t be late for the airport.”
Dominique dashed back to the bathroom. She had no intention of missing their flight.
Her hands trembled as she packed her new bikini. The next time she wore it she would be standing in front of her husband. By the look in his eye she would know if he’d lost all desire for her or not. That would tell her if their marriage still had a chance.
Twelve hours later she entered her dad’s office at the US consulate in Sarajevo, where she worked for him. The time had come to put her plan into action. Fear and excitement gripped her in spasms.
On the flight from New York she’d come up with the idea to call Andreas’s headquarters in Athens from a payphone. She would pretend to be the secretary of a Bosnian importer who wanted to discuss a business venture with him. That way she would find out if he was even in the city.
After opening the morning mail, she decided to slip out while it wasn’t busy and make that phone call from the post office, a few buildings down the street.
As she started to get up from the chair, the receptionist buzzed her. “Yes, Walter?”
“There’s a Paul Christopoulos here to see you.”
The news set her heart tripping like a jackhammer. Andreas’s best friend and personal assistant was out in front?
Dominique had heard of coincidences, but this one almost caused her to faint. She sank back down in the chair until the lightheaded feeling passed and her skin didn’t feel as clammy.
If Paul had come to the consulate in Sarajevo it was for one reason only. Andreas wanted the divorce now, and had sent Paul to negotiate the terms of the settlement.
A year ago she’d demanded Andreas give her a divorce. His only answer had been to put more money in her bank account—money she’d never touched.
Two subsequent demands from her New York attorney had been met with the same silence. She’d quickly learned Andreas had no intention of letting her go, at least on paper. With his wealth and power he was able to write his own rules.
She’d finally given up, realizing his pride hadn’t been able to handle her walking out on him. He would give her a divorce when his anger had cooled, not before. But Paul’s arrival coming from out of the blue this morning meant she’d waited too long to approach her husband and talk things out.
“Shall I tell him he has to make an appointment? Or are you free to see him now?” Walter prodded, but her mind was miles away.
Andreas must have met a woman.
He was ready to move on with his life. So was Dominique, but she wanted to move forward with her husband by her side.
Placing flattened palms on top of her desk, she said, “Tell him to come in, Walter. Hold any calls for me.”
When Paul entered her office, Dominique got up from the chair and walked around her desk to greet him.
He was taller than Andreas, who stood six-three. Both men had powerful builds, but where Paul’s hair was reddish brown Andreas’s was black.
Loyal, unflappable Paul—the man Andreas trusted like a brother, the man who served as her husband’s bodyguard on occasion. To her satisfaction he did a double take before shaking the hand she extended. Since he’d last seen her she’d undergone a big change in her appearance.
Not only that, a year ago the atmosphere between them had bordered on frigid. But that had been Dominique’s fault. Hysterical with pain, she’d left the courthouse before the case against Andreas had gotten under way.
Paul had ridden with her to the airport in an attempt to stop her from leaving Athens before Andreas could talk to her. But in he
r frantic state she’d been wild with grief, and had informed Paul she was divorcing her husband of four months. That seemed a lifetime ago.
Instead of going back to the seat behind her desk, Dominique rested her hip against the edge and folded her arms. “It’s good to see you again, Paul. Sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”
He remained standing. “Nothing for me, Mrs. Stamatakis.”
Mrs. Stamatakis. So formal. So correct.
“No one’s called me that since I left Athens a year ago.” In her shattered condition, the state of her marital status had been no one else’s business. Once back with her parents, she’d removed her wedding ring and had insisted on being called by her maiden name.
“You’ve changed,” he murmured unexpectedly.
In other words she wasn’t the insecure young woman who’d run from Andreas twelve months ago. Since her agonizing decision to leave her husband, a dramatic transformation had taken place inside and out. The fact that Paul had made such a personal observation to her face meant she’d really knocked him sideways.
It brought a smile to her lips as she contemplated a similar reaction from Andreas, even if he’d finally chosen to divorce her.
But Dominique wasn’t about to let that happen. Not yet anyway.
“You haven’t changed at all, Paul.” He still wore the same austere expression, and those dark-rimmed glasses. Only a year older than Andreas’s thirty-three years, Paul seemed older—especially when he was all business, like now.
He didn’t reciprocate her smile, but for once in his life she knew her appearance and demeanor had thrown him. That daunting sangfroid of his was missing. She detected the slightest hesitation before he opened his briefcase and pulled out a file.
“Everything’s in here.” He handed it to her. “You’ll find it’s an extremely generous offer. After you’ve read it, all you have to do is write your name on the dotted line and you’ll be Ms. Dominique Ainsley again.”
Without bothering to open it, she put it back in his briefcase. When she raised up she said, “Before I sign anything I want to see Andreas in person. Where is he?”
Paul studied her speculatively. “On the yacht.”
Of course.
It was September, the perfect time to take out the Cygnus—the weather was idyllic. “For how long?”
After a pause, “That depends on Olympia.”
Her heart plunged to her feet.
So… It appeared Olympia was still the other woman.
The mention of her name touched the deep wound that had caused Dominique to leave Andreas in the first place. She couldn’t help but wonder if Paul had been waiting to reopen it with one thrust of the dagger.
He’d achieved his objective, but nothing he could say would dissuade her from her determination to face her husband and fight for her marriage.
“It doesn’t surprise me. Their mutual love for Andreas’s sister always made them close.” Dominique straightened and walked around her desk. “I presume you came on his private jet?”
Since the answer was obvious, Paul didn’t bother to respond. Or maybe he was still surprised that the mention of Olympia hadn’t done more damage.
Pretending he’d spoken, she said, “I’ll fly back with you.”
“Andreas is expecting me to return today.”
“Naturally. But that’s no problem. My job sends me everywhere, and I always keep my passport with me.” And my medicine, she thought automatically.
She pulled her purse from the bottom drawer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him reach for his cellphone.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Paul. I’m still Mrs. Stamatakis, as you reminded me moments ago. Since my husband claimed he would love me forever, you wouldn’t want to interfere now, would you?”
Andreas and Paul had grown up in Athens together and were lifetime friends. His allegiance to her husband knew no bounds. But if she wasn’t mistaken, shock had caused him to lose a little of his composure—a phenomenon she’d never expected to see.
“This time I’m the one asking for your help,” she explained. “Would it be too much to expect? I’d like to see Andreas before the sun goes down in the Ionian. Shall we go?”
If he’d picked up on her cryptic remark, he didn’t say anything. They passed by Walter’s desk in Reception.
“Tell Dad I’m leaving for Greece. By tomorrow morning I’ll know my plans and will call him.”
The receptionist eyed both of them curiously. “Very good.”
Three hours later the helicopter waiting for them at the airport in Athens flew them over the island of Kefalonia.
Dominique’s hungry gaze took in its lush green beauty and the golden beaches she’d explored with Andreas. As the helicopter made its descent, the charming little port town of Fiskardo seemed to rise up to greet them. “I don’t see the Cygnus in the harbor.”
“Andreas is sailing from Zakynthos. He wouldn’t have expected me to come aboard before late afternoon.”
She checked her watch. It was two-thirty p.m. Greek time. “That’s good. We can fill a couple of hours shopping with that generous settlement he’s planning to give me.”
In order to show Paul she meant business, she’d purposely left Sarajevo without going by her parents’ house to pack.
Ever the stoic, a quality that meant he had always hidden his disapproval of her as a wife for Andreas, Paul followed her around the stores while she purchased the items she would need for a cruise.
In one of the fitting rooms she removed her tailored suit and donned a sparkling aqua bikini that had caught her eye. On top of the bikini she put on a tantalizing beach wrap. The white lace affair did nothing to hide what lay beneath.
Sliding into rope sandals, she pulled out the tortoiseshell comb which caught her hair back. After running a brush through the silvery-gold strands, she left it to fall loose to her shoulders from a side part.
When she emerged, Paul’s jaw went slack—evidence of his total astonishment. That was twice in one day. It pleased her she could shake Andreas’s unshakeable right hand.
Switching her gaze to the water, she saw that the yacht had sailed into the harbor while she’d been in and out of the shops.
Andreas. Her heart pounded outrageously, just imagining her husband’s reaction when he saw her.
After a rapid purchase, she hurried toward the launch waiting for them at the pier. The few men in the village, young and old, turned to stare at her. But they didn’t call out anything with Paul accompanying her.
It was gratifying to know she could stop traffic, but Andreas was the only male she hoped to rock back on his heels.
One of the crew she recognized from the Cygnus sat at the wheel of the tender. When he saw them coming, his wiry figure bounded up on the pier.
“Mrs. Stamatakis—” he cried out in shock when he realized who she was. His eyes rounded until she thought they would pop. Apparently the change in the shy, waif-like wife Andreas had married was astounding.
“Hello, Myron. It’s been a long time. How are you?”
“Good.” He shot Paul an anxious glance.
“How’s your family? Nico must be as tall as you by now.” She got into the boat before either man had the presence of mind to assist her.
He muttered something unintelligible, sounding and looking completely unnerved. With Olympia on board the yacht, it was no wonder Myron kept flashing covert signals of distress to Paul. His behavior verified her suspicion that Andreas and Olympia were lovers.
A long time ago Andreas had denied it. Maybe he’d been telling the truth then. But it seemed things had changed in the last year.
“Here.” Myron jumped inside after her. Almost as an afterthought he suddenly rushed to hand her a life preserver to put on.
“Thank you.”
Clearly he wasn’t happy about the situation. No doubt he was hoping Paul would prevent what he viewed as a disaster when Dominique showed up on the yacht. But Paul took a seat, appear
ing oblivious to the other man’s anxiety.
Myron had no choice but to start up the motor and ferry them to the Cygnus. In a few minutes she’d climbed the stairs to the top deck. More shocked expressions on the faces of the crew greeted her vision as they discovered her identity.
The yacht was her husband’s inner sanctum, and Dominique was invading it.
Too bad.
She was still Mrs. Stamatakis.
The steward finally recovered enough to welcome her aboard. She saw no sign of Andreas or Olympia.
“May I take your things and put them in one of the guest cabins for you?”
“That’s all right, Leon. I’ll just carry them downstairs to our bedroom.”
“But—”
She left him sputtering and walked toward the steps leading to the master bedroom below.
Dominique didn’t know what she’d find, but it didn’t matter. Over the last year she’d come to realize that her feelings of inadequacy had caused her to run away from Andreas.
He’d needed her during the ugly high-publicity adultery case Olympia’s husband had brought against him. Andreas had asked her to trust him. But her emotional scars and immaturity had prevented her from staying the course.
That was why she was here. To tell him how sorry she was that she hadn’t believed in their love enough to stand by him and wait for his explanation.
Maybe it was a year too late, but she was ready to hear it now. To give their marriage the chance it deserved.
Her feet had wings as she hurried along the passageway to the master suite where she and Andreas had spent blissful nights together as newlyweds. With her heart thudding in her chest, she knocked on the door. There was no answer. She cautiously turned the handle.
A gasp escaped her throat at discovering the elegant room had been turned into a baby’s nursery, complete with a little dresser and changing table. A baby swing had been set up in front of the writing desk.
Her stunned gaze took in the baby blankets strewn on the king-sized bed. Next to it stood a crib with a mobile.
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