The Greek's Convenient Wife (Greek Tycoons)

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  She picked up her own glass and chinked it against his. ‘Here’s to my big fat Greek wedding,’ she quipped before drinking deeply.

  A flicker of amusement passed over his face as he watched her silently. He hadn’t thought he would enjoy her company as much as he had; she had a sharp wit and her flashing sapphire-blue eyes were bright with intelligence. He wondered how far she would go before she cracked under the pressure of keeping her brother’s whereabouts secret. He hadn’t really thought she’d agree to his proposal; in fact he still expected her to pull the plug at the last minute. It amused him to see her squirm, torn between her loyalty towards Kyle and her own freedom, but business was business and he could hardly overlook one point five million dollars.

  And, besides, he had to do something about the fuss the press was making. The constant intrusion into his personal affairs was becoming increasingly tiresome; hardly a day passed without his picture appearing somewhere with the usual scathing paragraph accompanying it. It was starting to affect his business reputation, which was a situation he could no longer tolerate. A temporary marriage was a stroke of genius, he congratulated himself as he took a contemplative sip of his champagne; if nothing else it would be entertaining watching Maddison Jones try to out manoeuvre him at every turn, very entertaining indeed.

  Maddison felt restless under the silent scrutiny to which she was being subjected. It was bad enough having every other diner glancing pointedly her way without having to suffer the sardonic gleam in Demetrius’s eyes as well.

  The waiter came over to take their order and close on his heels was a photographer. Maddison’s eyes widened in alarm as Demetrius gave the photographer the go-ahead, her fury towards him knowing no bounds as he sat back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile.

  The camera flashed just as she opened her mouth to protest, which made her even more annoyed. She waited until the man had moved to the next table before she spoke.

  ‘I suppose you think that was funny?’ Her eyes flashed with venomous wrath.

  ‘What’s wrong? Don’t you like having your picture taken?’ He took another leisurely sip of his champagne.

  ‘Not under these sorts of circumstances,’ she hissed. ‘Besides, I had my mouth open; I’ll look like an idiot.’

  The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. ‘Then perhaps you should learn to keep your very pretty mouth shut,’ he advised.

  She took another piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth to stop herself from giving him the dressing down she felt bubbling up in her throat.

  ‘Come now, Maddison,’ he chided her gently when she’d gnawed her way through another two pieces. ‘Don’t pout; you’re supposed to be madly in love with me, remember? This is our first official date; try to look as if you’re enjoying it.’

  She pushed the rest of the bread away and glared at him. ‘How am I supposed to enjoy an evening in your company? You’re the most obnoxious man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.’

  ‘You never know, I might greatly improve on acquaintance.’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘Never say never; it’s like tempting fate.’

  She gave him a caustic look from beneath her lashes. ‘You’d have to have a complete personality bypass for me to even consider changing my opinion of you.’

  He laughed as he picked up his champagne glass once more, twirling the stem with his long fingers as he watched her struggle to hold on to her temper.

  ‘Let’s wait and see, shall we?’ He raised his glass to her and, tipping back his head, tossed the contents down his throat.

  Maddison watched the up and down movement of his neck as he swallowed the liquid, her pulse suddenly feeling heavy in her veins.

  She tore her eyes away and stared at the food the waiter was placing before her, wondering if she’d be able to get a single mouthful past the tight restriction in her throat. She felt as if she’d just stepped into water too deep and dangerous for her, the prospect of escape disappearing like a lifeline carried out of reach with the tide.

  She felt sure Demetrius was laughing at her behind the cool façade of his too handsome face. She could see it in his eyes as they rested on her, and the way his mouth lifted up at one corner as his gaze travelled over her lazily, making her skin tighten all over with acute awareness. She didn’t want to react to him at all, but somehow whenever that brown-black gaze meshed with hers she felt as if her temperature were increasing, her heart-rate elevating and her legs weakening uncontrollably.

  She picked up her fork and tasted the delicious seafood pasta dish, sneaking a covert glance his way.

  ‘Would you like to taste some of mine?’ He offered her a small morsel on the tip of his fork, passing it across the table to just in front of her mouth.

  With the slightest hesitation she opened her mouth over his fork and took the food, her eyes locking with his as she chewed and swallowed.

  ‘Good?’

  She nodded and picked up a forkful of her own dish, leaning across as he had done for him to taste it. His eyes burned into hers as his mouth opened over the food, drawing it into his mouth slowly, his tongue coming out to trace over his lips in a single sweep that sent her blood on a riotous passage through her veins.

  She bent her head to her plate once more, forcing herself to eat every scrap in an attempt to keep her gaze from shifting in his direction.

  She declined coffee and dessert, not because she didn’t want them—she did—but she could no longer trust herself to sit opposite him without betraying how much he affected her.

  He settled the bill while she fidgeted uncomfortably under the interested stares of the other diners, angry with herself for wanting to score points off him but even more furious with him for rubbing her nose in it the way he had done.

  He took her elbow to lead her out to where he’d parked his car just beyond the world-famous sidewalk café, Harry’s Café de Wheels. A chorus of appreciative male whistles sent the colour back to her cheeks as she went past, her head high although she knew her composure was cracking around the edges.

  Demetrius held the car door open for her and she slipped under his arm, hoping he couldn’t see the bright glitter of angry tears in her eyes.

  He strode around to his side and once the car had roared into life turned into the traffic.

  ‘I’d like you to come to my office tomorrow,’ he said as he took the turn back to the southern suburbs where she lived. ‘I have another document for you to sign.’

  She gave him a worried glance. ‘More documents? But I already signed the ones you sent.’

  ‘I know but this one is different. At the cessation of our marriage I will be paying you a lump sum to compensate you for any inconvenience you might have suffered.’

  ‘I don’t want your money.’

  ‘No, I imagine not, now your brother has already helped himself to a considerable portion of it by destroying my yacht.’

  She looked down at her hands, which were twisted in her lap. ‘You make it sound as if I deliberately encouraged him.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ He slanted a quick glance her way.

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘But you do blame me for your father’s untimely passing, don’t you?’

  ‘I’m surprised you even remember him,’ she said with considerable bitterness.

  ‘Your father worked for me for a number of years,’ he responded evenly. ‘I was generally happy with his work but in the last few months he seemed to run off the rails a bit. I took him to task over some funds he seemed reluctant to account for. The rest, as you know, is history.’

  ‘He did nothing wrong. I know that as surely as I’m sitting here.’

  ‘I understand your loyalty but the fact he refused to answer my questions seemed to be an admission of guilt. I had no choice but to let him go.’

  ‘Why didn’t you conduct a proper investigation?’ she asked, turning in her seat to look at him.

  Demetrius shifted his gaze from hers. ‘I
got my second in command, Jeremy Myalls to do it. He came up with the same verdict as me. Your father was siphoning off money to fund some scheme of his own.’

  ‘I don’t believe it. My father was so careful with money, especially since my mother died.’

  ‘How old were you when she died?’

  Maddison felt her hands tighten into knots in her lap. ‘Ten. Kyle was five.’

  ‘It must have been very hard for you, being so young.’

  ‘I coped.’

  She felt his glance but didn’t look his way.

  ‘I did what I could to give your father a way out,’ he said into the small silence that had fallen. ‘I was very sorry to lose him.’

  ‘Not half as much as me.’

  Demetrius turned back to the road ahead, his brow furrowing slightly. It was understandable she’d be loyal to her father’s memory but it didn’t sit well with him that she’d painted him as the grim reaper who’d hastened her father to his grave. Damn it! He’d liked the guy. He’d done all he could—so had Jeremy—to find out the truth but Bill Jones had remained very tightlipped to the end.

  He drove the rest of the distance to her apartment in silence, somehow sensing she was close to tears. It made him feel uncomfortable, a state he wasn’t used to feeling if he could get away with it.

  As soon as Demetrius pulled up in front of her home Maddison got out of the car without waiting for him to open her door. She was halfway up the path when he caught her, swinging her around to face him, the soft glow of the street light reflecting the bright glitter of tears in her blue eyes as she glared up at him.

  ‘Let me go.’ She snatched at her arm and turned for the door.

  ‘Maddison.’ He caught the back of her tight sweater and she heard something tear as he pulled her back round to face him.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ she cried as she inspected the loose stitching underneath one arm.

  ‘Stop struggling and hear me out, damn it,’ he said impatiently.

  ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’

  ‘I don’t want you to talk, I want you to listen.’

  ‘I don’t want to listen either,’ she flared back at him. ‘I hate you.’

  He held her mutinous look for a tense throbbing moment.

  ‘Then maybe I should give you one more good reason to hate me.’ His eyes glittered dangerously as he hauled her closer.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly hate you more than I do at this moment,’ she bit out furiously.

  ‘Let’s see about that, shall we?’ he said before he closed the distance between them to crush her mouth beneath the hard insistent pressure of his.

  Maddison felt all the fight go out of her with that first kiss. Her body was jammed so tightly up against his she could barely breathe, and her heart was hammering like a wild thing as he deepened the kiss with a bold thrust of his tongue between her softly parted lips. The grazing stroke of his tongue along hers sent fire through her blood, a raging fire that was fast getting out of control. She felt its heat trickle through her, a molten pool settling between her thighs as he pressed her even closer to where the heated trajectory of his arousal pulsed against her unashamedly.

  She felt the glide of his warm hand come up to shape her breast, the long fingers close over her possessively. Her breath snagged in her throat as the pad of his thumb found her tight nipple, caressing it repeatedly until she was sure she would cry out with the sensations coursing through her. Her legs were threatening to give way, her spine loosening as if liquid had replaced her bones. She felt as if someone had slipped her a drug so potent that she couldn’t think for herself, but had to rely on him to lead her through the maze of her spiralling need.

  Her tongue unfolded to dance with his in sharp little steps that tugged at her insides creating an aching emptiness deep within her. She pressed herself even closer, glorying in the feel of his swollen length against the yielding softness of her belly.

  She felt him walk her backwards out of the glare of the street light, his thighs in step with her quivering ones, felt the cold concrete retaining wall along the length of her spine as his mouth ground against hers with a fevered intensity. She opened her mouth on a gasp as he freed one pert breast, his hot mouth closing over it greedily. She sagged against the wall and would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding her. The sensation of his lips and tongue on the engorged nipple sent every rational thought flying out of her brain.

  The sound of a car pulling into the driveway and its subsequent arc of lights separated them.

  Demetrius stepped away from her, raking a hand through his thick hair, his chest rising and falling with the hectic pace of his breathing.

  Maddison straightened her clothes with as much poise as she could, meticulously avoiding his eye as she did so.

  ‘Maddison,’ His voice sounded harsh and she heard the rustle of his clothing as he reached out a hand towards her.

  ‘Goodnight, Demetrius.’

  She turned and took the steps to the foyer of her apartment block with a speed he could only admire considering the precarious height of her heels.

  He stood silently as the door closed softly behind her, his brows meeting in a slight frown as her footsteps faded away.

  He turned back to his car, got in and started it with a roar and drove away, but all the way back to his penthouse he could taste her on his tongue and he could still feel her pliant body imprinted along the hard length of his.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MADDISON received a summons from Demetrius’s secretary the following day requesting her presence at his office at two p.m.

  It annoyed her that he hadn’t taken the time to call her himself and she seriously considered not turning up, but at the last minute thought better of it. She wasn’t prepared to risk incurring his wrath in case yet again it backfired on her.

  She still resolutely refused to think about that kiss.

  Every time her tongue touched her lips she snapped her teeth together and distracted herself with something else so she didn’t have to think about how his lips had crushed hers. She wouldn’t allow herself to recall the feel of his hard thighs pressing her backwards, nor would she give in to the temptation of recalling how his long fingers had felt against her breast, or his hot mouth closing over her nipple.

  When she arrived at his office tower she was in no better frame of mind.

  Demetrius’s secretary greeted her with less haughtiness, and even though her gaze swept over Maddison’s worn out trainers and faded jeans and yellowed white top she gave no outward indication of her disapproval.

  Demetrius, however, frowned as she entered his office after his command to come in. He reached for something on his desk and handed it to her without a word.

  ‘What is it?’ She looked at the envelope suspiciously.

  ‘It’s the credit card I sent to you a few days ago which, for some reason, you returned. However, judging from current appearances, it looks like it might come in very useful.’

  She straightened her spine and ignored his outstretched hand. ‘I don’t want your filthy money.’

  A tiny nerve pulsed at the side of his mouth as he looked down at her. ‘I suggest you take it and use it to buy the sort of clothes you will need to be my wife for the next few months. If you don’t I’ll have to dress you each morning myself and, believe me, nothing would give me greater pleasure.’

  She took the envelope and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans with a mutinous scowl.

  ‘Sit down, Maddison,’ he commanded. ‘I have some things to discuss with you.’

  She sat down and folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘My lawyer has prepared some documentation for you to look over and sign.’ He handed her a sheaf of papers. ‘When our marriage is annulled I will pay you a sum but you get nothing else, understood?’

  She sent him an arctic look before lowering her eyes to the papers in her hands.

  ‘I suggest you read through those carefully and see my lawy
er,’ he continued. ‘You’re under no pressure to sign, of course, but if you refuse I will have no choice but to pursue criminal charges against your brother.’

  She didn’t trust herself to speak. She sat fuming at his overbearing manner, wishing she could find some way of paying him back for making her feel so wretched.

  ‘I’d also like you to move out of your apartment the day before the wedding,’ he said. ‘Since we’ll be marrying in the Royal Botanic Gardens the next morning I thought it would be more convenient. I’ve advised the hotel of your impending arrival and organised a removals firm for your belongings. I’ve also made an appointment for you with the hotel beauty salon therapist just in case you’re tempted to do another routine similar to last night. I wouldn’t want you to suffer any further embarrassment.’

  She looked up at him at that to see him holding the morning’s paper, open at the social pages.

  She stared at the photograph which had been taken the night before in the restaurant.

  It could hardly be described as flattering. Her mouth looked like a fly trap, her eyes like she had a hangover and her cleavage like a blatant invitation to take liberties. Demetrius, however, looked the urbane businessman he was, even though his smile was faintly mocking.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll manage to scrub up on the day,’ she said through stiff lips.

  ‘You’d better or you’ll have me to answer to.’

  A firm knock at the door prevented her from flinging him a stinging reply.

  ‘Come in, Jeremy,’ Demetrius called, sending Maddison a warning look as the door opened behind her.

  She got to her feet as a man of a similar age to Demetrius approached.

  ‘Miss Jones, how nice to meet you at last.’ The blond man took her hand and squeezed it damply. ‘I knew your father. A good man; we all miss him dreadfully.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, retrieving her hand from his and only just resisting the urge to wipe it dry against her jeans.

  ‘Demetrius has told me the good news.’ He flashed a smile that didn’t quite make the distance to his pale blue eyes. ‘May I offer my heartiest congratulations?’