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Beauty and the Greek Billionaire

Page 7

by London, Stefanie


  …

  Nico had been in a funk for the last two months. Ever since the moment he’d watched his driver whisk Marianna away, relaxation refused to come. The woman had gotten under his skin. He surmised it could only be because she’d surprised him. Sure, Nico had seen through the ruse about her identity right away, and he’d suspected the involvement of her brother. But the whole thing about her being a virgin…

  Hell, he didn’t know what to think.

  If it was true, then he felt like shit. The first time should be about more than sex. His had been special, and he’d experienced the joy of tipping over the edge of restraint with someone he cared about, someone who’d wanted to bask in the afterglow wrapped up in his arms. Thea had been a good friend, a willing partner. It wasn’t love, but the culmination of deep friendship and curiosity mixed with the bright spark of teenage attraction. They hadn’t lasted, but the memories made him smile. They were some of the few memories that made him smile, in fact. Because after that, the next time he’d been with someone it’d ripped his world apart.

  And because his experience with Marianna mirrored that, he’d exploded. Pushed her away.

  “You don’t even know if she was telling the truth,” he muttered under his breath as he heated his coffee grounds over the stove, holding the handle of his briki carefully so it didn’t tip over. Then he removed it from the heat and let it sit to one side, waiting impatiently for the grounds to settle. “She could have been lying, like she was about everything else.”

  “Talking to yourself again?” A familiar voice floated through the large open space of the living area. A second later, Dion rounded the corner. “I thought you abandoned all your imaginary friends years ago.”

  His friend chuckled to himself and slapped a hand down on Nico’s back. Dion was probably the only guy charming enough to laugh at his own jokes and get away with it. That was their friendship in a nutshell—Dion was magnetic and easygoing, readily liked by others. Nico was…not.

  But despite their differences in personality, they had a very similar history. Missing parents, growing up in an orphanage. Flirtations with poverty. After Nico had lost the closest thing he’d ever had to a family, Dion saved him from doing something stupid. When Nico had been furiously out of his mind, drunk on ouzo he’d stolen from a neighbor, and had wanted to take a crowbar to the nearest car so he could drive himself off a cliff, Dion had wrestled him to the ground and broken his nose in order to slow him down. It was the one and only time he’d ever seen Dion raise a fist. That was another area where they’d differed as kids.

  Nico raised a finger unconsciously to the bump that still existed on his nose and rubbed his finger over it, an old habit. Shrugging off the memories, he poured his coffee into a small white cup ringed with an intricate gold design.

  “Is that my excuse to pretend you don’t exist?” Nico said drily, bringing his coffee to his lips and sipping.

  “You know, your good nature and easygoing disposition are what I love about you,” Dion joked. He grabbed a cup from the cupboard above the stove and poured himself a coffee from the briki without asking. That was how they were—no niceties, no need to ask permission. It was the precise reason they were not only friends, but business partners. “I thought you were supposed to be in the office today?”

  Nico grunted. “I couldn’t get any work done there. It’s too noisy.”

  “Even after you paid a small fortune to have your office soundproofed?” Dion clearly wasn’t buying it. “Look, I get you have this whole people-hating thing going on, but the staff are concerned. You’re around less and less. Rumors are circulating.”

  He rolled his eyes. “About what?”

  “That you’re sick. I overheard the assistants gossiping the other day, and one of them speculated that you’d been diagnosed with cancer.”

  “Where did that come from?” He placed the coffee cup down and raked a hand through his hair.

  Nico and Dion owned and ran Precision Investments. Their opposite personalities made for a good partnership since Nico worked best behind the scenes, focusing on the numbers and leaving his charming friend to deal with staff and clients.

  But Nico’s visits to the company head office had become less frequent over the last year. Some days he couldn’t stand the thought of dealing with people, of answering their questions and making small talk about shit that didn’t matter. Dion had nicknamed him “the beast” at first, like that cursed prince who’d locked himself away in a castle and refused to speak to anyone. It had started as a joke. But one day working from home had turned into two, then three. Last week he hadn’t made it in at all, instead holding his meetings over the phone from the solitude and comfort of his home office.

  “Who knows.” Dion shrugged. “But the point is, people are starting to talk. We need to nip this in the bud, because the last thing we want is people losing confidence in the company.”

  “I thought the whole point of this partnership was to grow my portfolio and allow you to reel in some bigger fish, not that I would have to deal with bullshit rumors,” he said. “I was perfectly happy trading on my own.”

  “Yes, but remember that thing I told you about how many hands make light work. You wouldn’t have gotten to where you are now so quickly if we hadn’t partnered up.”

  Dion had a point. While Nico was good with numbers and predicting stock trends, Dion was good with relationships and people. He could grease the wheels for Nico’s business dealings, smooth over any bumps created by Nico’s aggressive tactics. The two men played their strengths off one another to a profitable advantage.

  “I’ll take that silence as your agreement,” Dion said with a smirk. He cradled the porcelain coffee cup in his hands and leaned against the marble kitchen countertop. “All I’m saying is that our staff need to see you around. If they wanted to work for an absent boss they could have gone with one of the big companies. The whole point of them being with us is that we don’t make them feel like numbers.”

  That was Dion in a nutshell, always thinking about the people.

  “I can make it so they wish I was more absent,” Nico muttered. “My presence is both a blessing and a curse, you know that.”

  “You’re not half as much of an asshole as you’d like to think.” His friend shook his head. “Look, I know the last year has been rough—”

  “It hasn’t been rough.” He did not want the conversation to continue down this path.

  “Whether you admit it or not, Kosta’s death shook you up.”

  Nico’s hands tightened around the edge of the kitchen island, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. “No, it didn’t. The day I walked out of his house, the old man was already dead to me. Last year was nothing more than reality catching up.”

  Lies. Nico knew it, and Dion knew it. Kosta might have cast Nico out of his house—and his life—over a decade earlier, but he remained the only father figure in Nico’s thirty-two years. He’d been more than a boss and a mentor, he’d filled the gap in Nico’s heart for a long time. That was, until Nico had made the mistake of overstepping the boundaries of his employment. Of thinking that he was one of them, when he wasn’t. But the news Kosta had passed away from a heart attack at only sixty-two had rattled Nico to his core. Since then, a dark cloud had followed him around, waves of grief catching him unawares in quiet moments.

  “I know more than anyone, and your bark is worse than your bite,” Dion said. “Don’t bullshit me. I know what he was to you.”

  “He was nothing.” The words held more bitterness than the taste of strong coffee lingering on his tongue.

  Dion’s eyes rolled skyward. “Okay, whatever. I’m not going to beat my head against a wall when you’re being stubborn as a mule. I want you in the office tomorrow. You need to show your face around.”

  “Fine,” he grunted. “I will drag my ass into the office and pretend like it makes a difference, okay?”

  “That’s all I’m asking,” Dion said. “And maybe t
ry not to bite anyone’s head off.”

  “No promises.”

  They walked through to the front of the house, and Dion regaled him with the previous day’s business. Dion was the only person in his life who could see past Nico’s tough exterior. Truthfully, he didn’t always like that. He preferred to keep people at arm’s length by whatever means necessary. But Dion’s presence calmed him, so much that he almost missed the taxi pulling into his driveway through the front window.

  The second he saw a delicate ankle and sandal-clad foot extend out of the open door, he knew his day was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

  Chapter Seven

  Marianna’s stomach churned so hard she was certain the rubbery airplane food was going to come back up any second now. Steadying herself with a palm against the door of the taxi, she sucked in long, deep breaths.

  You can do this. It’ll be a few minutes of pain, but then it will all be out in the open.

  She’d never thought about how she might propose to a man. Perhaps there was some traditional part of her that believed in gender norms after all, because she’d always assumed a man would one day propose to her. Not the other way around.

  Even though she believed an offer of marriage to be the best solution, the thought of seeing Nico again had kept her on edge since the doctor back home confirmed her pregnancy last week. Marianna pressed a hand to her stomach to quell the nauseating swish of nerves.

  Before she even had the chance to reach the front door, it swung open. Nico filled the entrance to the house like a bronzed guard, a white T-shirt clinging to the hard muscles in his chest and making his olive skin seem even deeper and more perfect. Thick, dark stubble coated his jaw, giving him a dangerous, wild edge. Marianna sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to run her fingertips over his face, to feel the whiskers scratching her skin.

  A second person came up beside Nico. The man appeared to be about the same age, though he was dressed in a lightweight gray suit and a crisp white shirt. He was handsome, slick. But had none of the darkly magnetic pull that Nico possessed.

  The man said something in Greek and walked out of the house, giving Marianna a polite nod as he headed to a white sports car parked outside. The sound of the engine turning over was deafening in the loaded silence. A second later, the car zipped away and the sound of the ocean came back, the calming to-ing and fro-ing of waves doing little to settle Marianna’s nerves. Nico looked…pissed.

  “What are you doing here?” No invitation to come in and talk, just a question hard-edged with suspicion.

  Marianna opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Her throat closed up, strangling the words into silence.

  “If this is about your brother’s business, my mind was already made up. I don’t care what tricks you pull, you won’t change my opinion.”

  “I’m pregnant.” Marianna blurted the words out and Nico’s face paled in an instant.

  His guarded expression dropped like a stone through water, his icy eyes widening in shock. But he recovered quickly, far quicker than she’d expected him to. He must have been experienced in receiving unfavorable news.

  “Come inside,” he said, stepping back and holding the door. “The last thing I need is for you to bring gossip to my doorstep.”

  Nico’s house was nothing like what Marianna had imagined when she’d visited last time and only seen the outside. She’d expected it to feel cold and somewhat impersonal. Uber-modern to the point of harshness. Like the man himself. But instead the enormous space felt light and airy. The furniture was sleek and expensive-looking, but soft touches dotted the room. A heavy-looking book with a worn bookmark poking out one end sat on the coffee table. Atop it were a pair of simple reading glasses. A newspaper was close by.

  It looked like…a home.

  What did you expect? Gargoyles and a watchtower?

  Yeah, kinda.

  Nico dropped down onto one of the armchairs and braced his palms against his knees. “Please explain what your pregnancy has to do with me, Marianna.”

  Unsure whether she should sit or stand, she perched on the edge of the couch and knotted her hands in her lap. The tight grip made her already fair skin snow-white around her knuckles. She was shaking, but she wouldn’t let him see it.

  “Don’t you understand the birds and the bees?” she asked, doing her best to speak slowly and calmly.

  She might not have enough experience in romance, but she sure as hell knew how to deal with men in positions of power. More than one arrogant professor had tried to put her down during the course of her studies, treating her as though she was stupid because she was young and a woman. They never expected her to bite back and, judging by Nico’s raised brow, neither had he.

  “I know very well how the birds and bees work. You of all people should be aware of that,” he replied. “What I don’t understand is why you thought to come all this way to tell me you’re going to have a baby.”

  “Firstly, you wouldn’t answer my calls.” She licked her lips, and they were dry as the outback. Her throat wasn’t much better. “Secondly, it’s your child.”

  “And you have proof of that?”

  “You’re the only man I’ve slept with. Ever,” Marianna replied. “Unless you think this was an immaculate conception, I don’t see how else I could have gotten pregnant.”

  “Your track record for telling the truth doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.” He nailed her with a hard stare. “Let’s look at the facts. I shot down Daniel’s business deal and he was pissed. Not an hour later you give me a false name because you were pretending to be someone else for the day. You say you’re on the pill. Suddenly, you show up at my doorstep claiming you’re pregnant and that I’m the father. Does none of that sound even remotely suspicious to you?”

  Marianna swallowed. Sure, when he put it like that it sounded awfully suspicious. “I told you,” she said. “I had no idea who you were when I approached you.”

  “Then why the false name?”

  She squirmed in her seat. “I wanted some escapism, like I said. I’m telling you the truth now,” she replied softly, fighting against the humiliation burning her cheeks. “It’s your baby.”

  Silence.

  “One day this child will ask about their father,” she added, her voice tight and gravel-edged. “I thought you’d want a say in whether or not they grow up knowing you.”

  For a second, Nico’s hard, emotionless mask slipped, and something tender and terrified streaked across his face. But it was gone before Marianna could fully grasp what he might be feeling. Nico leaned back against the armchair and raked a hand through his hair, as if trying to process what was happening.

  “What are you asking for?”

  “I want you to marry me,” she said.

  …

  Nico sat as still as he could. He didn’t want to believe that Marianna was carrying his child. There were too many red flags about this whole situation. What did she and Daniel really want? Because Nico knew one thing for certain, people always wanted something from him. The fact that they came all this way…no, they were after something. They had to be.

  Perhaps they planned to blackmail him into giving them money or supporting their business. Maybe they planned to go to the media if he said no, in an attempt to ruin his reputation.

  What if she’s telling the truth?

  There was a chance, no matter how slim. And something deep down in his gut told him to believe Marianna. But that inkling was dangerous. It would set him up for disappointment…or ruin of some kind. Which meant he needed to think carefully about how to proceed.

  Nico had never thought he would have children, not after all that had happened to him.

  But if Marianna was pregnant and the child was his…then he wasn’t going to abandon them like his parents had abandoned him. If he was to be a father, then his child would have a home. Parents. Security. A bright and comfortable future. All the things he’d wished for while lying in the dar
kness blanketing the dorm-style orphanage sleeping hall. He’d never let any child of his feel unwanted or unloved, even if they were unplanned.

  “What if I don’t want to marry you?” he asked.

  “I would understand that.” She swallowed. “But I still wanted to give you the option to be part of the child’s life.”

  “We don’t need marriage for that,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “You would fight me for custody?”

  “If the child was mine…of course.” He cocked his head. Sure, he sounded like a bastard right now, but pushing her buttons would be the quickest way to see if she’d crumble on her story. If Marianna was lying, this would be the time for the truth to come out. “I’m a man of principals and I will hold up my end of the parental duties. That extends beyond finances.”

  “You want your child to be shuttled back and forth across the planet?” she said. Her breath was coming faster now. She was panicking. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be married so at least our child is born under legitimate circumstances?”

  She had him.

  He had no doubt Australia was easygoing as far as religion was concerned, but in Greece people still lived by very traditional values. A child born out of wedlock would be at a disadvantage. Looked down on. The older generations still imposed their beliefs onto those younger than them, and Nico himself had been on the receiving end of such judgement. It was the exact reason he’d been put out of a job and out of two relationships he cared deeply about. Because no matter how much he’d wanted to be accepted, he’d always be an orphaned bastard.

  He couldn’t do that to his child.

  “Do you believe me?” she asked.

  Dammit, he did. The way she’d behaved that afternoon told him she wasn’t experienced. And though he had no reason to believe her, his gut told him she wasn’t lying. And his gut was usually right.

  “My belief doesn’t matter because we’ll have a prenup.”

 

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