The Greek's Virgin Bride

by Julia James

  She felt faint, hearing him say her name, that had once been an endearment, now edged with scorn. Behind her, Kim stepped forward and closed her hand protectively around Andrea's arm.

  'Mr Vassilis, if my daughter does not wish to speak to you—'

  The rest of her words were cut off by a rasp sounding in Nikos's throat. Shock etched across his face, and his eyes flashed back to Andrea.

  'This woman is your motherT Disbelief was in every word.

  It was Kim who answered. 'Yes, I am Andrea's mother, Mr Vassilis. And perhaps...' she took a faltering breath '...you would explain what is going on?'

  Nikos's eyes were scanning from face to face, his eyes nar­rowed, comparing the two women. Andrea knew what he would see—she and Kim did not look much alike. Kim was slighter in build, and her hair was fair, greying now at the temples, her faded eyes blue. All that she had got from her mother was her bone structure and her fine skin. Her red hair had come from Kim's grandmother, she knew, and her chestnut eyes were a legacy from her father.

  But whatever he saw must have convinced him. 'Mrs Coustakis—' he began. His voice sounded shaken, but deter­mined none the less.

  Kim shook her head. 'I'm Kim Fraser, Mr. Vassilis. Andreas and I never married.'

  Her words were quietly spoken, and not ashamed. She had, her daughter knew, nothing—nothing—to be ashamed of.

  Shock etched across Nikos's face again. It stabbed at Andrea. Telling her everything she needed to know. Bitter, bit­ter though that knowledge was.

  'You see—' she twisted the words out of her mouth '—I'm not the woman you thought I was! Look around you!' Her arm swept the narrow hallway. 'Do I look like an heiress? Living here?'

  Her words were a bitter, defiant challenge.

  "This isn't possible.' Nikos's voice was flat. His denial total.

  She gave a mocking, angry laugh. She had known, always known, that he would be horrified to discover her humble or­igins—to discover she did not come from his rich, sophisticated world. After all, what would a man as rich as Nikos Vassilis want with a wife from a council fiat?

  He moved suddenly, a hand flattening on the door beside aim that led into the living room, pushing it open. He walked in. The room was clean and tidy, but the carpet was cheap and worn, the chairs and sofa-bed where Andrea slept shabby and frayed.

  'You live here?'

  His voice was still flat. Andrea followed him in.

  'Yes. All my life.'

  'Why?'

  The word exploded from him- Andrea gave a high, short laugh.

  'Why? Because it's all Mum could afford, that's why! She lived on benefits until I was old enough to start school, and die council housed us here—she was lucky to get it, a flat of her own, a single, teenaged mother as she was! When I started school she got a part-time job, but it's hard work to put aside enough money to try and buy a place of your own when you've a child to bring up single-handed.'

  'Single-handed? When your grandfather is Yiorgos Coustakis?' His voice was a sneer.

  Her eyes flashed. 'Yiorgos Coustakis—' she ground out her grandfather's name with contempt '—told my mother she had no claim on my father's estate. She's brought me up on her own—totally.'

  As she spoke, his lips compressed. He scanned the room again, taking in every last detail. His gaze hardened.

  'Are you telling me,' he demanded, and his face was set, tight as a bow, 'that your grandfather does not support you?'

  'That's right,' she said evenly. 'I told you—I'm not a Coustakis at all.'

  Kim's voice intervened, sounding confused and distressed.

  'Andrea, what about the money? You told me Yiorgos had given you all that money of his own free will! If you extorted it from in any way then you must give it back! You must!’

  'No!' she cried, appalled. 'No! The money's yours, it's yours totally—to buy you an apartment in Spain, to pay your debts, to—'

  'Debts?' Nikos pounced on the word. His face was still

  carved from stone.

  'Yes,' said Kim, turning to him, 'I'm afraid, Mr Vassilis, I owe rather a lot of money. You see, when she was younger, Andrea had a very bad road accident. The therapy needed to enable her to walk again was only available privately, so I had to borrow money to pay for it. We're still paying it back— Andrea helps all she can. She has two jobs, and every penny she can spare goes towards it!' Nikos looked numb, then he recovered. 'You never asked Yiorgos Coustakis to help you?' The ques­tion grated from him.

  A harsh laugh escaped Andrea. 'Oh, Mum asked, all right! She went down on her knees to ask him to help her! She sent him all the doctors' reports on me—every last one of them! She begged him to help for the sake of his son—she promised she would repay the money as soon as she could.' 'And?' Nikos's voice was chill.

  'He refused. He said she was trying to get money out of him by false pretences! His lawyers wrote telling Mum that if she tried to contact him again for any reason they'd take legal ac­tion against her for harassment.' She took a steadying breath, and went on. "That's why I won't give the money back to him! Whatever Mum says! I've cleared her debts and I'm going to buy her a flat in Spain. There'll be enough change from the five hundred thousand pounds to invest safely for her and give her an income to live on, and a pension, and all that stuff, and—'

  Nikos's face had stilled again. 'Five hundred thousand pounds?' His voice was hollow. 'Are you telling me that's what Yiorgos Coustakis paid out to you?'

  She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘I know it's a huge amount, but it's what I needed to get Mum sorted and settled.'

  'Five hundred thousand,' he echoed. 'Half a million pounds.' His eyes blazed again suddenly. 'Do you have any idea how much your grandfather is worth?' He took a step forward and is hands closed around her forearms. He was close, much too lose to her. 'Half a million is a pittance to him! A pittance!’

  She jerked away.

  'I don't care what he's worth! I don't care anything about im! He treated Mum like dirt and I loathe him for it! I don't want more of his filthy money—I just wanted enough to get Mum out of here to somewhere safe and warm, with enough to live on without worrying the whole time! She's got asthma, and the damp in the flat makes her really ill...'

  Her voice trailed off. He was not listening. He was staring around him, taking in every shabby detail.

  That's right, thought Andrea viciously, pain stabbing at her as he looked round so disdainfully at the place she lived in. Take a good look! This is where I come from! This is my home! Now you will despise me for it!

  Now, into the silence, Kim spoke.

  'Mr. Vassilis, I can see this has been an unwelcome shock to you, and I am sorry for that. But...' She hesitated, then went on. 'I would be grateful if you would please explain what the purpose of your being here is—'

  His eyes nicked to her. 'My purpose? My purpose, Ms...Fraser—' he said her maiden name as if it pained him '—has just changed.'

  Andrea's throat tightened. I'll just bet it's changed! You came here to take me home with you and now you probably can't wait to get out of here as fast as you can...

  His attention suddenly swivelled to her. Her breath caught. His eyes were like slate, his face closed and shuttered.

  And yet it was the face of the man she loved. Loved so much, so unbearably much!

  I never thought I'd see him again! Thought I'd live the rest of my life without him! But he's here, now—

  A vice crushed her heart.

  Yes, and he's just about to walk out—for ever now he knows the truth about you.

  A shaft of self-accusation hit her.

  I should have been honest—right from the start. I deceived him—no wonder he is angry!

  She took a deep, shuddering breath.

  'Look, Nikos—I'm sorry. Truly. I didn't realise that my coming home would jeopardise your merger!'

  A grim expression crossed his face. 'There is no merger. Nor will there be.'

  No—how could there be? thought Andrea bl
eakly. Nikos Vassilis had thought he was marrying the Coustakis heiress— not the unacknowledged bastard of a woman Yiorgos Coustakis thought a gold-digging slut! Nikos had thought he was getting a wife who came from his world—not a girl who'd been born and bred in a decaying council flat.

  'I should have told you,' she said heavily.

  His eyes rested on her like unbearable weights. 'Yes, you should have told me, Andrea. You should have told me.'

  'I'm sorry,' she said again. It seemed the only thing she could say.

  'Are you?' There was something very strange in his voice. 'So am I.'

  Well, of course he was. Andrea knew. Of course he wished he'd known from the start just how tainted she was! As if it wasn't bad enough to discover she was crippled—she was com­mon as well...

  Nikos's eyes had slid past her, lingering briefly on the tense, anxious figure of her mother, and then out, out through the window.

  He wants to get out of here, Andrea thought. Get back to his own world. Where she had no place. Nor ever could have.

  Through the window Nikos saw the other tower blocks of the estate and, far below, the world beneath. The sun was set­ting, starting to turn everything to gold. He stared down. All the kingdoms of the world spread before him.

  He thought of the journey he had made—the long, hard jour­ney from the streets of Athens—with only one focus, only one goal. Making money. More and more of it. Acquiring Coustakis Industries would have been the pinnacle of his achievement.

  And he was a young man still. Who knew what kingdoms he could buy and sell before his time was up? Who knew what souls he could buy and sell with all his riches?

  A face stole into his mind's eye. An old man's face, whose eyes knew well the price of a man's soul.

  What is mine worth? thought Nikos. And the answer came clear. Clarion-clear.

  Too much for Yiorgos Coustakis to pay.

  He stepped away from the window and looked back at the two women in the shabby room. The kingdoms of the earth disappeared from view.

  His hand slipped inside his jacket, taking out his mobile. He punched in a number. His voice, when he spoke, was curt. 'This is Nikos Vassilis. I have a message for Yiorgos Coustakis. Tell him I am standing in front of Kim Fraser and her daughter in their home—the merger is off.'

  Then he disconnected.

  As he slipped the phone back in his pocket his eyes met

  Andrea's.

  She reeled.

  The blaze of emotion in them was like a flash-flame.

  'I will make him pay,' he said softly. 'If it takes me the rest of my life I will make him pay for what he has done to you.'

  Andrea stared. His mouth twisted at her expression and he forged on. 'I knew the man was ruthless—all the world knew that! But that he would stoop so low... Christos, he has be­haved like an animal!'

  She couldn't speak—couldn't do anything but stare at him, disbelieving.

  Nikos's eyes raced around the room again. 'To make you live like this,' he grated. 'To turn his back on his own flesh and blood—to leave you to struggle on your own all these years. Not even—' His voice hardened like the edge of a knife. 'Not even to lift a finger when his own granddaughter faced a lifetime in a wheelchair...' He shut his eyes. 'Dear God in heaven, what kind of scum is he?'

  His eyes snapped open. They glinted like steel. He reached for his phone again. 'Well,' he said grimly, 'the world will soon know.' Before Andrea's very eyes she saw him speak in English again. 'Demetrios? Prepare a press-release. The Coustakis merger is off. Yes, you heard me. And I shall be making my reasons for pulling out very, very clear. The stink will reach heaven, I assure you! I'll phone again in an hour, when you've had time to contact the board.'

  He snapped the phone off again.

  'Mr Vassilis.' Kim spoke, her voice agitated and perturbed. 'Please—I don't understand any of this! What is happening?'

  'What is happening...' Nikos's voice softened as he saw how disturbed Kim was '...is that I have decided not to take over Coustakis Industries. I refuse, absolutely—' his voice hardened again '—to have anything to do with a man who could behave in such a way to you and your daughter! I refuse, absolutely,' he finished, 'to do business of any kind with him!'

  'But—but...' stammered Andrea. 'But the merger means so much to you—'

  A hand slashed through the air. 'No. Only one thing means anything to me, Andrea.' His voice changed. 'Only one thing.'

  He took a step towards her. She wanted to step back, but she couldn't. She was rooted to the spot.

  'Don't you know what it is, Andrea mou?’ His voice had softened. 'Surely you must know?' His hand reached out to touch the flaming aureole of her hair. Her breath caught. 'Surely?'

  He looked down at her, his eyes flecked with gold. 'When you left me it was as if you had stabbed me to the quick. To the heart. I bled, Andrea mou. I bled.'

  His fingers brushed her cheek, and she felt faint. 'Come back to me, pethi mou, come back to me—'

  Her throat was tight, but she tore the words out. 'What for? If there's to be no merger then you don't have the slightest need of me!'

  He smiled. Her heart turned over.

  'Need? Oh, my Andrea, I need you to breathe. Without you I cannot live. Do you not know that?'

  His hand cupped her cheek. 'I need you to light my way, to walk at my side all my life. I need you to be with me, every day and night.' His other hand closed around her other cheek, cupping her face, lifting it to his.

  It was odd, Andrea thought. His face had gone out of focus; the flecks of gold in his eyes were misting. Something must be in her eyes—some mote of dust.

  'But—' she swallowed '—but I don't see why you need me...'

  He smiled, and it filled a gaping hole in her heart. 'Didn't I show you every night, every day we spent together? Didn't you show me?'

  'Show you what?' she breathed. Her eyes were brimming now; she could not stop it.

  He lowered his head and kissed her softly. 'That we were falling in love, Andrea mou.' 'Love?' It was a whisper, a breath.

  'Oh, yes. Love—quite definitely love.' There was no doubt in his voice. None at all. 'There can be no other word for it. How else could the wound you dealt me when you left me have been so mortal to me? How else—' a finger lifted to her lashes and let the tears beading there spill onto him '—could these tears be making diamonds of your eyes?'

  'But you don't love me—you can't—you don't have to! It was only because of the merger that you married me—' The gasp from Kim went unheard.

  'Our marriage, my sweet, most beloved Andrea, is the only good thing to come of that cursed merger! I always meant to make you a good husband, even when I thought ours was to be nothing more than a mutually beneficial arranged marriage. Once I would have been content with that. But on Crete—ah, then it became much, much more! And when I discovered you had left me, oh, I realised just how much more! The pain of losing you was agony—and I knew then that something had happened to me that I did not ever dream of. I had fallen in love with you—fathoms deep.' He looked down at her tenderly, possessively—lovingly.

  'You can't love me...' Her voice was a whisper, a thread. 'We come from such different worlds. Look—'

  She gestured helplessly with her hand at the shabby apartment.

  He followed her gesture with his eyes, knowing now why she had said the same words to him on the night of their wed­ding. To think he had thought it was because she had been born to a wealth he'd had to fight all his life to acquire!

  'When you return to Athens with me,' he said in a low voice—and there was a strangeness in it Andrea had never heard, 'I will show you were I was born—where I lived until I crawled from the gutter as a young man. A man, Andrea, who never knew his father, whose mother did not care whether he lived or died. A man, Andrea, who vowed—vowed he would make something of his life! I was determined to achieve the success and recognition I craved!'

  He took a deep, shuddering breath, and Andrea stared
at him, wordless, as suddenly—totally—she saw the man Nikos really was—not the gilded scion of a wealthy patrimony, but someone with the guts, the determination, the courage, to make some­thing of himself out of the nothing he had been born with.

  'But I have learnt...' his voice had softened, taken on a sense of wonder '...that true riches are not in gold and silver. True riches...' his eyes melted her, and she felt her heart turn over '...are here—inside us. I envy you so much, Andrea.' His eyes glanced across to where Kim stood staring, bemused and won­dering. 'To have had the love of your mother—and I envy even more—' his voice, she thought, almost cracked '—your love for her. And so I ask you—beg you—' as he spoke her throat tightened to an unbearable tightness '—to accept my love for you—and to give me yours.'