The Greek's Stolen Bride (6 page)

"How?"

"What?" He stared at her, nonplussed.

"How do you know him? Why do you speak of him with such understanding, such experience?"

"That's a conversation for another time. Now let's get inside."

Silently they walked up the steep cliff path to the white stucco and terra-cotta tile villa. It wasn't huge, but it was built into the stone and filled with sunlight. Theo used it as his private retreat when he wasn't on business, but he'd never brought anyone here before.

He disarmed the security system and ushered Ariana inside. She glanced around, taking in the soaring foyer with a skylight high above, the open plan living/dining area scattered with leather sofas and a large teak dining table. She smiled faintly.

"I like it."

He was ridiculously pleased. "Good," he said gruffly, and headed upstairs. "Let me show you your room. You probably want a shower."

"I didn't bring any clothes."

"I ordered some to be delivered."

"So quickly?" she asked, and when he nodded  she bit her lip. "Can the sale be traced? My father--"

"Enough about your father. An assistant whom I'd trust with my life selected them in Naxos and left them upstairs. Stop worrying." He turned away, back up the stairs.

"I can't stop." She stopped on the staircase, and when Theo turned to look at her he saw, to his chagrin, that her eyes were filled with tears. "I'm still terrified," she whispered.

"Oh, Ariana." Without even thinking about what he was doing Theo walked down the stairs to her and took her in his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his chest. He felt her tremble and knew she meant what she said. She was scared to death. "I will protect you, you know. With my life."

She laughed softly, the sound a little too close to a hiccup or even a sob. "You barely know me."

"It's a matter of honor."

She lifted her head, tilting it back to gaze up at him with rain-washed eyes. "Are you a man of honor, Theo Atrikes?" she asked huskily.

Theo didn't answer, didn't think. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers once, felt her still beneath him, like a trapped bird, a fragile butterfly. He brushed his lips against hers again, a question, his hands curling around her shoulders, drawing her more firmly against him.

Still she didn't move, didn't respond, and his very life seemed to hang in the balance until she let out a tiny sigh and her lips parted beneath his. Theo deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into the sweet lushness of her mouth, his hands slipping from her shoulders to her waist to her hips, and then back up to cup the intoxicating fullness of her breasts. He heard her shudder, felt her melt in his arms, and then she went rigid and jerked back, staring at him with wide, startled eyes.

"Don't slap me again," he warned, smiling even though his heart thudded hard. For a woman with very little sexual experience, she had an incredible effect on him.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered.

"You're a beautiful woman, Ariana, as well as strong and courageous. I couldn't help myself."

She shook her head. "You said this would be a marriage in name only."

"I said it would be if that's what you wanted."

"It is." She sounded annoyingly vehement, yet also scared. Theo smiled. He was a patient man.

"Let me show you your room," he said, and turned to go back up the stairs.

Ariana's heart thudded so hard it hurt as she followed Theo up the stairs and down an airy corridor. Her lips burned from his kiss... the second kiss she'd ever had, both with Theo. By Theo.

Was he toying with her? Amusing himself in a whole new and far more frightening way? Her heart pounded harder. She might be free, but she didn't feel free. She felt imprisoned by her own contrary thoughts.

By her own desire.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Ariana followed Theo into a spacious bedroom. A king-sized bed with a sand-colored duvet and half a dozen throw pillows in various shades of blue and green occupied the center of the room. Windows overlooked the cove, their shutters thrown wide open. A door led to a spacious ensuite bathroom, the black marble glimmering in the sunlight.

"It's lovely," Ariana said and Theo smiled.

"Make yourself at home."

He showed her how the shower worked, gestured to several shopping bags by the bed, and then left her alone. As soon as the door had closed behind him Ariana sank onto the bed and let her head fall into her hands.

The events of the day--the escape, the boat ride,
the
kiss
--were catching up with her, and she felt exhausted, overwhelmed, and inexplicably near tears.

Straightening, she took another breath and headed to the shower. She would not indulge in theatrics or any emotion at all. She would not think about that kiss, and how Theo's lips had felt both soft and hard, how they had demanded and entreated at the same time. She needed to keep a clear head to get through the next few days--and weeks, months--until she was established,
safe.
Until her father--or no other man--could hurt her or control her.

Her mouth now in a compressed line, Ariana turned on the taps, stripped off her clothes, and stepped into the shower.

Twenty minutes later she was showered and dressed, having changed into a pair of pale blue capris and a silk mauve tee-shirt. Theo's trusty assistant had provided a full range of toiletries as well as clothes, so she felt thankfully clean and fresh as she headed downstairs.

She found Theo in the kitchen, its granite and stainless steel work surfaces open to the living/dining area. He'd showered too, and his hair was damp, curling a bit on his neck. His eyes looked even greener and more vivid in his tanned face, and he dressed simply in a tee-shirt and faded jeans, both which hugged the lean yet muscular planes of his body. He paused, his hands flat on the counter top, as he watched her enter the kitchen area.

"You look a bit more refreshed."

"I feel it."

"And relaxed."

She lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. She didn't feel relaxed.

"Do you want some lunch?"

"Okay." She slid onto one of the chrome bar stool by the breakfast bar. "Do you cook?"

"A little."

She watched as he took a lump of feta cheese wrapped in waxed paper out of the fridge, plucked a few plump tomatoes from a bowl on the counter. "Your assistant went food shopping as well, I suppose? Or do you live here most of the time?"

"I don't come here as often as I'd like," Theo said as he set about dicing the tomatoes. "And yes, my assistant got the food."

"Who is this paragon?"

"A friend of mine from a long time ago. He's worked for me since I started my own firm."

She was absurdly glad the assistant was a he, and not some siren in a short skirt and kitten heels. Ridiculous even to care, and yet in that moment Ariana could not keep herself from feeling a fierce dart of satisfaction.

"I don't really know anything about you," she said, propping her chin on her hands. Theo slid her a speculative look from under his lashes.

"And I don't know anything about you."

"There isn't really anything to know."

"I don't believe that."

She shrugged. "I've lived my life in a convent and on my father's private island. I haven't had many opportunities for excitement or adventure."

"Maybe that will change now."

Ariana willed herself not to blush. "Tell me about yourself," she said, mainly as a way to distract herself from thinking about just what kind of exciting adventures she could be having with Theo Atrikes.

"Like what?"

He wasn't, she thought, very forthcoming. "Where did you grow up?"

"Athens."

"Do you have brothers or sisters?"

"No."

"Parents?"

"Both dead."

"So you're alone," Ariana said quietly and he gave her a rather flirtatious look that felt like a way to distract her.

"I'm not right now."

"How did you come to start your own IT firm?"

"A combination of luck and grit."

She wasn't getting anywhere with these questions. She decided to try another tack. "How did you learn how to fell a man with one blow?"

Theo's efficient dicing stopped as he hesitated, glancing up at her, his knife in mid-air. "On the street," he said after a moment.

"On the street?" Ariana shook her head, not understanding.

Theo resumed his dicing, albeit a bit more slowly. "I was in a gang when I was a teenager."

This shocked her. "A gang? You mean--"

"A street gang. Pickpocketing, thieving, that type of thing." He glanced at her, his eyes glinting amusement even as his mouth twisted and she had a feeling he was feeling far from amused. "Shocked?"

"Yes, a bit," she admitted. "Were you--were you poor?"

"Yes."

She thought of what he had said earlier:
I am not a thief
. "When did you stop? Change?"

"I was caught when I was seventeen. The man could have had me arrested but instead he gave me a chance. A job."

"And that was that?" she finished with a little smile.

"Basically."

"From errand boy to IT magnate?"

"It took a few years, but yes." He went to the huge stainless steel fridge and took out some cucumber and yogurt. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you ever try to escape before now?"

She shook her head. "It was impossible. I've never had any money or access to money. Even if I'd manage to get off the island I would have had nowhere to go."

"Nowhere?"

"Nowhere," she said flatly. The few friends she'd made at school had lost touch. Her relatives would report to her father. She was and always had been truly alone.

"Did you ask any of the other six who came to the island to help you?" Theo asked as he sliced cucumber and red onion for the salad.

"No. I didn't trust them."

"And yet you trusted me?" he asked softly and she felt herself flush.

"I trusted you had the courage to help me, and you did. As for the rest..." She swallowed, shrugged. "I don't know."

"You know I would never hurt you or put you in danger."

"I don't know anything. I barely know you."

"Yet still you came with me."

She lifted her chin, met his gaze directly. "You were my last chance. My only one."

"You will trust me," he said, and Ariana didn't know if it was a command or a promise.

"Why do you care?" she challenged.

"I told you, it is a matter of honor. You are going to be my wife. It's my duty to protect you."

"That sounds like a typical Greek male," she answered. "Even if it's not a typical marriage." She'd almost forgotten about that part of the plan. She still didn't understand it. "So when is our big day then?"

"Tomorrow."

"
Tomorrow
?"

"You think to wait? Your father will trace you here shortly, I'm sure."

Fear made her insides tremble. "You think he'll find me?"

"Of course he'll find you." Theo arched an eyebrow. "Surely you must have anticipated such a thing? Or were you thinking you would run forever?"

"I..." She gave a shaky laugh. "I suppose I didn't let myself dwell on it. I thought if I had a little money I could find a place to stay, get a job..."

"A job? What kind of job?" Theo's smile took the sting from his words. "You do know this country is in a recession? Many people with university and advanced degrees are unemployed."

"And a girl with a convent school education and no experience wouldn't get very far?"

"I'm afraid not."

She shook her head, realizing the truth of his words. "You must think me very naive."

"I did," Theo admitted, "but now I see that you are strong and determined. And desperate too, but that has made you even stronger."

She glanced down at the granite countertop. "I don't feel very strong."

"You are. Trust me on this, Ariana. To survive--to endure--and still to hope? That is strength."

She glanced up, felt her breath catch in her throat at the tenderness softening his stern features. "Is that what you did?"

"Me?"

"You must have had a difficult start to life."

His expression hardened, eyes veiling. "I suppose," he said after a moment. "But no more than many." She nodded, accepting, yet she felt as if he were not telling something. Hiding it, but what? And why?

"What happens now?" she asked as Theo tossed the salad.

"First we eat. And then we discuss tomorrow."

Tomorrow
. "Will we get married in Naxos?"