“Do you realize how patronizing that is to me? And rude?”
So she wanted a fight? Fine, he would have to take control of the situation; she would not embarrass him. “Turning up inappropriately dressed for dinner would also be rude on your part. I have spared your blushes, and a thank you for being so thoughtful would be nice.”
Her bottom lip twitched. “You’re unbelievably arrogant.”
He flicked on his best acidic smile, one he usually kept reserved for his mother or any other unfortunate female that had been thrust upon him with dewy eyes and a heart full of romantic hope or avarice. “I’m trying to do the right thing where everyone is concerned.”
Her voice sharpened still further. “Don’t you realize that—”
“Ah, thank you,” Tito said loudly as a man in a black waistcoat handed them both a large, red menu each. “I’d like a double gin and tonic while we decide. Erica, for you?”
He could see her exquisite, angry tongue run over the bottom row of her teeth beneath her tightly closed lips, and her eyes had darkened. “I’d like a cocktail. A strong one. Something that matches my shoes and numbs the pain of wearing them.”
The waiter leaned to the side to look at her red shoes and nodded politely. “In that case, might I recommend a classic Boulevardier? A sophisticated blend of Campari, sweet vermouth, and Wild Turkey 81 Bourbon, strained over ice and served with a twist of orange in an antique 1920s cocktail coupe glass.”
“Perfect,” Erica said with a sudden wide grin and a wink. “I have childcare tonight, don’t you know? So I can afford to let my hair down a little bit.” Tito blinked as she blasted him with eyes that were opened a few millimeters too wide to be as innocent as they were pretending to be. “Isn’t that so, Tito?” she purred and slid her mischievous focus down to opening the menu flat on the table.
“That is quite so.” He copied her movements with the menu as the waiter disappeared and flicked quickly through the thick pages. “I’m glad you’re taking some time to relax. Today can’t have been easy.”
Her voice dropped to a low hiss. “Before that man comes back I want you to know that I am not enjoying this nearly as much as you think, or would like to think, I am.”
“Polite of you to wait for him to leave,” was Tito’s flat reply, and he continued to stare at the menu. “What makes you think I would assume you are having the time of your life? The expensive clothes? The servants and childcare? The cocktails and vintage champagne list?” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You found out the father of your child is dead today and that both your lives could be in danger. You have been forced to leave everything you are familiar with behind at a few minute’s notice, and your lives are about to change forever. I’m not a complete moron, and I’m not made of stone either. You must feel terrible.”
“Oh.”
“Especially as you lost your own father at such a young age.”
She stared down at the menu and took a sharp breath in, her shoulders visibly tense. “You know about that?”
“I know just about everything about you, Erica. I had you thoroughly investigated, remember? The team was very thorough.”
The conversation dried up for a few moments as the waiter came with their drinks, lit the candle on the table, and left them to choose from the menu.
Erica took a long drink of her cocktail, and he could see her fingers tremble as she set the delicate glass down onto the white linen table cloth. There was a brittle edge to her voice. “It doesn’t seem fair that you know so much about me and yet I know precious little about the man who is expecting me to marry him without a word of protest.”
“We can fix that given a little time.” He swirled the chunky glass that held his own drink and the ice cubes clattered like beer bottles rolling around the bottom of a fridge. “We only met a few hours ago, after all. But it would be helpful if we could remain civilized with each other in order to do that.”
“I just feel like I’ve been picked up, squeezed, and now I’m being forced to do so many things that I really don’t want to. And there’s nothing I can do about it because it’s not about me. None of it is about me. It’s about you and Nick and a man who I knew for a week who is now dead. And his relic relatives. And some nutters who are out there trying to kill a whole bunch of people and…” Her shoulders slumped, and the look she gave him was almost pleading. “I don’t know if I can go through with all this however high the stakes are.”
“You must.” Her vulnerability was laid bare. “For Nick. You are all he has to count on now, and you can’t let him down because of your own weakness.”
“I’m not weak!”
“Then you can do it, and I am here to help you and make everything as easy as it possibly can be.” He reached out and took the small pale hand that lay helpless on the tablecloth. “You’ve survived on your own this far. God knows how, but you have, so that shows the strength of character and decency in you. Unfortunately it’s not immediately obvious to the outside world.”
She sniffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I’m referring to.”
“The fact that the Momma Frangos Mafia think I’m a worthless whore who should probably be stoned to death rather than bring up their precious male heir?”
He felt winded by that outburst, but it had such feeling behind it he also felt a stab of admiration. Erica Silver really was a mummy tiger. “Yes, exactly that.”
“And is that how you see me?”
He didn’t want to think too hard about how he saw her in case his body reacted involuntarily to her allure once again. He swallowed hard and focused on the space between her eyes. “It’s not important what I think. This isn’t going to be a genuine marital relationship between us so it’s not possible to engage in any kind of emotional trade-off. I am here to be Nick’s physical and moral guardian. Being his legal stepfather will ensure a safe future for you both and a smooth transition into the next phase of your lives.”
“How clinical.”
“Practical.”
“And it’s blindingly obvious that I am the fly in the ointment in all this. Nobody wants me involved, but none of you will get your way unless I cooperate.” She leaned forward to finish before the approaching waiter reached their table. “My future is precarious in all this. I need certainties and guarantees not just empty reassurances. You’re asking me to give up everything except my son, for years. I have to consider what happens after I’m not required anymore.”
“And that is why we are here to talk.”
The waiter smiled as he reached their table, and Tito realized he was still holding Erica’s hand. They looked like lovers. “Are we ready to order?”
Tito had stared at the menu for some time, but the words his eyes had read hadn’t registered in his brain. “Erica?”
“Almost there,” she murmured. “You go first.”
He glimpsed down at the flowing script and picked the first items on the starters and mains. “I’ll have the Isle of Portland seafood cocktail followed by Aberdeen Angus Sirloin Steak cooked medium rare, sauté potatoes, and a green salad.”
“Any sauces with that, sir?” Tito shook his head and the waiter turned to Erica. “And for madam?”
Erica licked her lips thoughtfully and suddenly food was the last thing on Tito’s mind. How could one woman’s mouth be so sexy and intriguing at the same time? “I’m spoiled for choice…um, I’ll have the hand-dived scallops with tomato, verbena, and fresh English peas followed by Lababdar style chicken curry and all the trimmings. And some of your very delicious sounding hand-cut chips.” She smiled at the waiter and then caught Tito staring at her. “Can’t beat curry and chips.”
Was that indignation on her face? Or another fiery challenge? He couldn’t decide so he just tipped his head to one side in a quizzical fashion because at least she seemed a little happier. “If you say so. Some wine to go with it?”
She shook her head and took a slug of her cocktail. �
�I’ll stick with this.” Her scarlet lips puckered, and her lipstick shone with a sugary sheen before licking it off. “Stronger than I thought, that. But bloody nice.”
“Good.”
Her shoulders straightened, and her nostrils flared for a second. “So, Nick only gets his massive inheritance if he moves to Greece, is nice to his granny and aunties, and reaches the age of twenty-one, right?”
“Almost. His legacy will be in trust for him until he is twenty-one, so he will have access to all the material things he needs before then, but at the discretion of his trustees.”
“And you are chief trustee.”
“Yes.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with what looked like irritation all over again. “It must be nice to have so much power all of a sudden.”
“Erica, I am a very wealthy and powerful man already, so I wouldn’t describe this situation as particularly nice. It’s a big responsibility and a long-term commitment.”
She looked away and frowned. “So to continue. The rest of the Cretan tribe don’t want me around for reasons already mentioned, so the only feasible way for Nick to secure his legacy and for me to stay with him until he’s grown up is to marry you. Because nobody over there will argue with you, right?”
“If you want to put it like that.”
“It’s charitable of you to sacrifice yourself in such a way. Why bother?”
He thought he’d been over all this, but it would do no harm to set down precisely what needed to happen. “I bother because Yannis’s final wishes were for you both to be looked after. In the current circumstances the only way I can protect you properly is to get Nick out of the UK where he can be traced. Yannis wanted Nick to inherit everything from him if he should die, and the only way I can get that to happen right now is to get him to Greece and start a life there. The other trustees have made it a non-negotiable point. The trustees have also stipulated that you are not welcome in Greece, but as you aren’t willing to be parted from him, and I can’t force either of you to relocate, we have to fix that somehow. The only way I can think of to bring all these things together quickly is to marry you. Does that make sense?”
“It makes sense but that doesn’t mean it’s not completely crazy.”
“Can you think of any other way around it? Because even if you came to Greece on your own as a single woman you’d never be able to get near him, let alone live with him, don’t you see?” He softened his voice. “The Frangos women are very old-fashioned. They won’t like the fact that we are married, but they will respect it and have to accept you.”
“They won’t approve of us being divorced later on though, will they?”
“When that happens it won’t matter anymore. Nick will be a man and he will take charge of his own life and legacy.”
“And what happens to me then?”
He shrugged again. So many questions he didn’t have a firm answer to. “Well, I guess we can have an amicable divorce and…” He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. “You walk away with an appropriate financial settlement?”
“Payment?”
“Let’s call it recognition of the sacrifice you have made for Nick. How about I put a few million pounds aside in an investment portfolio that will transfer to you on our divorce? Or you can just have hard cash. Or gold bullion, whatever you want. We’re talking twenty years here, potentially. Or at least until Nick or you decide he doesn’t need to live with his mummy any longer.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“I’m a realist. I left home at eighteen and never moved back in. How about you?”
She made a huffing sound and fiddled with a napkin. “The same.”
“So we can’t be absolutely certain about anything that will happen in the future, but I think it would be sensible to make a legal agreement between us at this point. To make sure there are no misunderstandings and everyone is treated fairly.”
“A prenup?”
“Yes, let’s call it that.”
“Hell, we have a lot to discuss if I’m going to go through with this.”
She was still resisting the idea? He needed to employ a steamroller technique in that case. “We need to pin down all the important details now so the documents can be drawn up before we leave for Gibraltar tomorrow night.”
“Gibraltar?”
“For our civil wedding ceremony. It’s the fastest place in Europe to do it. No residency requirements apart from spending one night there either before or after the wedding and minimal documentation.”
“Oh, now slow down.”
“My people already have your documents and the necessary arrangements are being made. Have you signed the DNA form I gave you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I will have it brought down for you to deal with now in that case.” He took his cell phone from his pocket and turned it back on. He made a point of turning it off at meal times and during meetings; it was only polite and he was not available twenty-four–seven for anyone. The phone was for his convenience, not anyone else’s.
The starters arrived just as Tito finished his call, perfect timing for a change of subject. He was guessing Erica would be a lot easier to deal with if she could relax a little. “I’m not a huge fan of this country, but there’s no denying your fish is good.”
“Really?” She slowly sliced through one of the seared scallops, its caramelized surface opening to reveal the sweet, pearly white flesh inside.
“It’s the cold sea water that does it apparently.”
He watched as the silver prongs of her fork disappeared briefly between her lips. She closed her eyes for a moment and chewed. “Delicious.”
“Thought it would be.”
“Never had them before. Way too expensive and, as my dad used to say, if you’re going to try something for the first time make sure it’s the best you can afford. I reckon something knocked up by a Michelin-starred chef ranks highly, especially as I’m not paying.” She speared another piece of shellfish. “How’s yours?”
“Crab, langoustine, and lobster makes me very happy.”
She chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “We need to talk about this wedding.”
“Yes, good. I’m told the registry office is full up for the next week, so my people have arranged an intimate outdoor, civil ceremony at a place called The Glade. Apparently it’s quite pretty, in a sunken area of some botanical gardens beneath a wooden bridge. We’ve got the first slot of the day before the crowds turn up. The day after tomorrow. Should only take about ten minutes and we’ll be done.”
“How romantic.”
He was unsure if she was being sarcastic or not. “If you’d like anything in particular arranged, flowers, an engagement ring, that kind of thing, let me know now.”
“Of course not. None of this is real, is it? A means to an end. A marriage in name only, right?”
“It could be nothing else in the circumstances, I agree.”
“So, beyond the marriage and going forward maybe as much as two decades our real lives will be on hold. Don’t you want children of your own with a woman you love? A Makris heir?”
This question was bound to arise again from someone, but he had his answer well rehearsed. “I will never have children so it’s not an issue, and a genuine desire for marriage isn’t something I foresee happening either. That is all I am willing to say on the matter.”
She looked startled and blinked a couple of times as he stuck a fork roughly into his food. “But what about…women. You’re not telling me you can go twenty years without, well, you know?”
He hadn’t expected that question, though. Hadn’t even thought about it. Possibly because the only woman on his mind right now was sitting opposite him. “As long as we both agree to be discreet, I am sure we can agree to accommodate each other’s…needs.”
“We have secret affairs?”
Tito set his cutlery down and shrugged. He felt awkward now, which was ridiculous for a man of his a
ge and standing. He was also annoyed with himself for not having thought this particular aspect of the arrangement through. He hated not being prepared for anything. “If that is what you want and will persuade you that marrying me is tolerable, then yes. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Nothing.” For a microsecond he was about to suggest they might end up wanting a sexual relationship with each other and that if that should happen…thank God, he’d managed to shut up before doing that.
She had a disbelieving look on her face but appeared to accept his rebuttal. “And our prenup will cover this particular aspect of our marriage?”
A smile flickered around the outer edges of her mouth and a tiny dimple he hadn’t noticed before appeared on her cheek. “It would probably be wiser to keep that kind of agreement between us and not commit it to paper.”
She chuckled. “You should see your face right now, Makris. It’s a picture.”
“I don’t see what’s so funny, and I don’t like being laughed at.”
Erica made a kind of snorting sound into her napkin that he suspected was more laughter. “Sorry. Must be the booze. But are you always this serious?”
“Do you not think this whole situation is serious?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Perhaps, I should self-medicate as well.” The waiter arrived to take their plates away. “Could I have a bottle of French Malbec with the steak?”
The waiter nodded. “Very good sir, an excellent choice.”
“You’ll sleep like a rock tonight if you drink all that,” Erica said once they were alone.
Tito leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Not if you join me, I won’t.”
Erica almost choked even though her mouth was empty. “If I join you?”
“If you join me in drinking the Malbec. A couple of glasses shouldn’t prove too lethal.” His eyes glowed like the northern lights. “Did you think I meant something else?”
Of course she did! She had assumed he was suggesting the unthinkable, that they should spend the night together. “Are you trying to get me tipsy?” she countered in an attempt to turn the embarrassment back on him.
The Greek Tycoon's Tarnished Bride (Men of the Zodiac) Page 8
