Bride by Day

by Rebecca Winters

  The outing started out well enough. Equipped with a map Ariadne had found for her, Sam made her way to the castle town with its adorable cube-shaped houses clustered in island style, delighting her artistic eye.

  The food at the quaint café near the castle was equally enjoyable. Phyllo dough wrapped around beef slices, feta, bacon and hard-boiled egg. Replete from her meal, she drove on to Galani and marveled at the monastery’s art treasures.

  But it became clear to her that no matter how wonderful everything appeared to be, without Perseus to share it, nothing really mattered. Like salt which had lost its savor, a day without his vital, living presence was little more than a survival test in human endurance. She’d failed it miserably. By the time she reached Livadi, her heart had already picked up speed just anticipating her reunion with Perseus.

  In a hurry to get home now, she bought a few necessary toiletries, then left the shop, intent on returning to her car without having her picture taken.

  She hated the idea that people were following her. In the other villages, she’d been pretty well left alone. But here in Livadi, people recognized her and tried to get shots of her.

  One dark-blond man of medium height, who appeared to be in good shape considering he was probably in his late fifties, had been dogging her footsteps since she’d gone into that shop.

  Furious at him, she started to run, hoping to lose him. When she rounded the corner where her car was parked, her hat fell off. She stooped to pick it up, and that was when she heard him call out, “Samantha Telford? Is that you?”

  He was an American. More to the point, he’d just called her by her maiden name. But if he was a newspaper reporter, then he had access to all the information he could ever want where she was concerned. Still, she slowed to a brisk walk and looked back over her shoulder. He was wearing sunglasses, too.

  “Do I know you?” she snapped.

  “No.”

  His one word reply surprised her.

  “Then I have nothing to say.”

  Without further ado, she sprinted toward the car and unlocked the door. He was right behind her. “But I do. In fact I have so much to say, I don’t know where to start. You’re going to have to help me. I’m your father, Jules Gregory.”

  Sam froze in place.

  The possibility of coming face to face with the man who’d gotten her mother pregnant—the man Sam had made up her mind she never wanted to meet in this lifetime, or the next—seemed too great a coincidence to be believed.

  What was he doing here when he lived in Sicily? How did he just happen to come to Serifos at the same time as Sam, let alone trail her into some obscure shop?

  The more she thought about it, the more his sudden appearance in Greece only days after her arrival here defied logic.

  To her knowledge, he’d never tried to find her or her mother. So why now?

  The only thing she could think of was that someone had told him she was here, and knew they were father and daughter. But who would do that? No one knew about her connection to Jules Gregory. Except Perseus.

  Her heartbeat accelerated to a sickening speed.

  Surely he wouldn’t have contacted her father when he knew she wanted nothing to do with her biological parent...

  Such a betrayal would mean Perseus had chosen to get involved in something that was none of his business.

  He may have bought the painting of her mother from Jules Gregory many years ago. But human decency forbade him to take it a step further, and try to unite her with the man who’d ignored her existence from birth.

  If Perseus had done such a thing—and in all likelihood he had, since there could be no other explanation—Sam thought she understood his motives. He’d spent the last twenty years looking for Sofia, and assumed Sam had been on the same quest for her parent.

  But Perseus had gone about it behind her back, without her permission. In so doing, he’d committed the unpardonable.

  Only someone of Perseus’s fame and means, plus his connection through the painting, could cause Jules Gregory to drop whatever he was doing in Sicily, and condescend to show up announcing his paternity after a twenty-four-year silence. Certainly her mother had never been able to affect such a miracle.

  The more she thought about it, the more Sam wondered how much money had changed hands to bring about this amazing chance meeting on the streets of the very island where Perseus and her father had done business once before...

  What had Perseus offered her father to come all this way to fake a chance meeting with the daughter he’d spawned?

  Had her biological parent been promised a gallery of his own in every major city across Europe and the States? How about unlimited funds stashed in a bank account with his name on it, accruing interest in case of a rainy day? Artists occasionally had them... Even a reputed portrait painter like Jules Gregory.

  It seemed Perseus had accomplished what anyone else would have deemed the impossible. But in so doing, he’d shattered her last remaining illusions and had caused her world to come crashing down on her head.

  With a pain too deep for tears, she turned around to take one last look at the man who was half responsible for getting her into this miserable situation in the first place.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but my mother taught me never to speak to strangers.”

  In the next instant she was behind the wheel of her car. He stood there grim-faced as she backed out. To his credit, he didn’t try to detain her as she took off down the street, her tires screeching against the cobblestones.

  She’d give him one point for that infinitesimal display of humanity...

  Throughout the drive back to the villa, she was scarcely cognizant of the passing scenery. Oddly enough, a great calm had descended. She’d been in such agony wondering how to get through the next eleven months living in the same house with Perseus, not being able to love him. Now her agony was over.

  He’d broken a great deal more than his part of their contract. In turn, she was about to break the rest of hers. Since she’d already fulfilled the major part, she felt no shame, no dishonor.

  She was leaving Greece, but first she needed her passport and had a hunch it was locked up in his safe in Athens. When she flew there tonight, she’d confront him and get it back. If he dared refuse her, then she’d threaten to tell Sofia everything. In case that threat didn’t work, she’d inform him that it was already too late. That she’d left a message for Sofia to be delivered by Yanni no later than ten tonight.

  Sam could count on Sofia. As soon as she found out Sam had been hired as his temporary wife to provide a convenient smokescreen until her mourning period had ended, Sofia would do whatever it took to help Sam get her passport back. Sam’s plan was foolproof.

  One thing she’d learned about Perseus after living with him almost a month. He never operated without a backup plan.

  Neither did she. Not anymore.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TEN minutes later she’d arrived at the villa. The workmen had gone home. It appeared that all the sod had been laid, and the beds stood in readiness for planting.

  That would be Sofia’s job from here on out.

  A sharp, jabbing pain in her heart made Sam jerk her head away. She dashed inside the house.

  “Kyria Kostopoulos—”

  She eyed the housekeeper, knowing exactly what was coming.

  “Your father came by the villa looking for you. I gave him your itinerary. He said that if he couldn’t find you, you were to call him at this number.”

  So the housekeeper was in on Perseus’s plan, as well.

  The older woman handed her the message on a yellow piece of paper, the kind which had turned Sam’s life into a living hell in the first place.

  Her initial instincts hadn’t been wrong after all... During the descent in Perseus’s private elevator at his building in New York, Sam had felt like the prisoner of Hades, the god of the underworld who’d spirited off his prey to his kingdom where a mere mortal would never see the
light of day again.

  How prophetic.

  Too bad Sam hadn’t acted on that instinct. It would have saved Perseus a lot of money, and spared her a lifetime of unnecessary, indescribable pain.

  “He’s staying at the Delphi in Livadi.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Sam murmured, almost choking on the bitterness. “Has my husband called?”

  “No, Kyria.”

  For Perseus not to call was totally out of character.

  Sam smirked. But that was because Perseus had laid a trap and was sitting back to watch.

  “Yanni says to tell you he will be ready to take you to the helicopter at six-thirty.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be ready. And Ariadne, if the phone rings, I’ll get it.” Two could play at his game. “Why don’t you and Maria take the rest of the night off? My husband and I will be having dinner in Athens and won’t be back until tomorrow evening.”

  A broad smile broke out on her dark, olive-skinned face. “Efcharisto, Kyria.” She gave a slight curtsy before disappearing.

  The first thing on Sam’s agenda was to go to the study and get a letter written to Sofia. When that was accomplished, she’d take a shower, wash her hair and get dressed to the max. She didn’t want to alert Perseus that anything was wrong. Not until she was ready to act.

  She’d take two things to Athens; her purse containing seven hundred dollars in drachma, all Perseus’s doing, which would purchase her a ticket home. An overnight bag with toiletries, a change of underwear, nightware and the same clothes she was wearing, packed inside. She’d leave everything else behind because nothing at the villa belonged to her.

  What little she owned—to show she’d taken up space on the planet—had been left in storage in New York. That’s where her life had begun. That’s where it would end.

  With all her plans in place, Sam got to work with a vengeance. Before she knew it, Yanni had brought the car around and they were on their way to Livadi.

  “Yanni?” She turned to him. “My husband left this letter to Sofia Leonidas on top of his desk. He wanted her to have it, but he must have gone off without it. When I get to Athens, I’ll ask him if he wants it handdelivered to her. If you haven’t heard from either of us by ten o’clock tonight, then will you take it to her, please?”

  “Ne,” he said, yes, tucking it inside his shirt pocket.

  So far, so good.

  But the helicopter ride to Athens was something else again. Sam didn’t exactly like the sensation which left her stomach floating somewhere outside her body. She decided she preferred the motion of a 747.

  When the grinning pilot brought them in for a landing on top of Perseus’s office building, she closed her eyes, unable to watch the ground come rushing up to meet them.

  “Darling—” She heard Perseus call to her before he lifted her away from the helicopter. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  How did he affect that husky throbbing in his voice? He had to be the greatest actor alive. He could even make his eyes glow with barely concealed passion before his mouth descended.

  The pilot could be forgiven for thinking they were madly in love, anxious to find a private place where they could go to give full expression to their love.

  Even Sam was shocked by the depth of Perseus’s ardor. When she would have pulled away, he demanded more of her, almost devouring her in the process. If he didn’t stop, she was going to do the unthinkable and give in to the desire eating her alive. Last night she’d played with fire by allowing herself to fall under his spell. Everything had been a prelude to what was happening right now.

  Though her mind and heart knew him to be a traitor, her body didn’t seem to understand anything except that it was starving for the kind of assuagement only he could give.

  That’s when she came to her senses and eased herself away from him before he was ready. Whispering in his ear she explained, “I-I’m sorry, but I need to use the powder room. The helicopter—”

  “Say no more,” he murmured back, his voice alive with humor. With another hard kiss to her swollen lips, he cupped her elbow and helped her down the steps. They passed through a security door and entered a corridor. “My suite is right down this hall. The ladies’ room is through there.”

  She muttered a thank-you and headed for the door she could see on her left. The minute she was alone, she slumped against it out of breath.

  When she was apart from him, she could think. But in his arms just now, she knew she was in danger of losing her self-respect, her identity, her pride...

  No one should allow another person to have that kind of power over them. The charade had to come to an end. She had to finish it now.

  After a few calming breaths and a repair to her lipstick, she left the powder room and proceeded down the hall where she found him talking to his pilot. Apparently he was giving the other man instructions because every so often the pilot nodded his head.

  Perseus looked up when he saw her, his slumberous eyes narrowing on her face and figure. He could stop the acting now. The pilot had gone back up on the roof of the building.

  “Would you like a tour of my office before we go to dinner?”

  If she didn’t know better, she would have accused him of reading her mind. When she thought about it, the building was much smaller and older than the one in New York.

  With a nod of her head she said, “Yes. I’d particularly like to see your safe.”

  His handsome head reared back and he burst out laughing. Evidently she’d said something totally unexpected. “Since it seems to matter to you so much, I’d even let you see inside it, if I had one.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “You mean you don’t?”

  “No. Anything of real value I keep in a safe-deposit box at the bank.”

  Crushed by the news, she turned her head aside, pretending interest in the furnishings which were done in classic Greek style. It was Saturday night. “Can you get into your safe-deposit box on the weekend?”

  He took a step closer to her, obviously intrigued. “Of course. Why this burning interest? Do you have something valuable you wish me to lock up for you?”

  Damn him for behaving as if he didn’t know what had happened to her today. His meddling had brought her face-to-face with her own father!

  She took a deep breath. “More to the point, Perseus, I’d like you to get something out for me.”

  One dark brow quirked. “You must know something about the contents that I don’t. You’re being very cryptic tonight, Kyria Kostopoulos.”

  Hardening her resolve she retorted, “And you’re being your usual invincible, godlike self. Your attractive mask is in place. I don’t even see a betraying twitch along that masterful jaw to tell me that you’re capable of human error like the rest of us foolish mortals who try to mind our own business and keep out of harm’s way.”

  He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. But in an instant, something colder and harder than the marble beneath their feet shot through his powerful body, altering him drastically.

  “Your innuendoes have found their mark,” came the grating voice. His withering gaze centered on her, shriveling her up emotionally. “Are you going to enlighten me why I’m suddenly damned in your eyes?” he asked with deadly calm. “Or do you expect me to guess what has happened to turn your tongue into a lethal weapon.”

  Hot spots stained her cheeks crimson. “Play all the boardroom games you want with anyone else, but not with me! You already know what I’m alluding to, so there’s no point in talking about it. I’d like my passport back.”

  His eyes studied her taut features for endless moments. “You thought I kept it in my safe...”

  “Or your deposit box. Whatever.”

  Another tension-filled pause stretched between them. “Are you planning a trip somewhere?”

  “Not a trip. I’m going back to New York.”

  “To visit old friends?” he baited in that silky tone guaranteed to raise her blood pressure.

&
nbsp; “To live out the rest of my life!” The sharpness of her declaration reverberated in the enclosed suite.

  “You’re perfectly free to do that in a little less than a year’s time.”

  She flashed him a contemptuous smile. “That’s right. We struck a bargain. But you did something that nullifies our contract, and now I want out of it.”

  His hands went to his hips, drawing her attention to the coffee colored silk suit he was wearing for their evening out. The cloth revealed rock-hard thigh muscles. His stunning jacket molded to the breadth of his shoulders. When he moved, the sound of the silk whispered of unleashed power and sinew beneath the elegant material.

  “If you had asked—” He slanted her an unfathomable glance. “I would have told you that your passport is in the top right-hand drawer of my desk on Serifos.”

  Her spirits plummeted. She’d thought of peeking in his desk, but at the last second her conscience hadn’t allowed it.

  “Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t find it and escape without my knowledge.”

  “No. That’s something you would do,” she threw back at him, causing his brows to furrow into an uncompromising black line. “I’ve tried to do the honorable thing by coming to you and asking to be released from our contract.”

  His eyes were shuttered as he murmured, “If the infraction I supposedly committed were truly as earthshaking as you’ve made it out to be, I might be persuaded to let you go...provided you tell me the reason for your outrage.”

  “Cruelty appears to be one of your less enviable traits after all, but I suppose no man could rise to your heights without stooping to that level from time to time.”

  “Be careful what you say Kyria,” he warned, clearly at the edge of his patience.

  That worked both ways.

  “Or what?” she goaded, her eyes exploding blue flame. “Will you repeat history and have me locked up in a Turkish convent? Is there no man on earth a woman can trust?”

  A frightening stream of Greek invective poured out of him. She unconsciously started backing away. He was so livid she must have imagined the brief glint of pain she thought she saw in his eyes before they became veiled.