Bride Behind The Billion-Dollar Veil (Crazy Rich Greek Weddings Book 2) Page 6
Her gratitude was the last thing he’d expected. He smiled, but knew it to be dismissive, and he felt her pull away from him, a hint of hurt on her features as she put a little physical space between them and began to dance once more.
He fought an urge to apologise and explain. This was business. Even this—the dancing—was a carefully staged photo op. And his body needed to remember that.
This wasn’t a normal date. He wasn’t going to take Alice home to his bed, seduce her all night until she screamed his name into his apartment, nor was he going to coax pleasure and euphoria from her, syllable by syllable.
Up until three days ago, she’d been his damned assistant. Up until three days ago, he hadn’t known she existed. Not outside a voice at the end of the phone, or a name at the bottom of an email.
And she was definitely not his type.
Okay, tonight she looked a lot more like his type—only better. Fascinating. Rare. Unusual.
But Alice Smart was complicated. She moved in a completely different circle from him. He didn’t need to look beyond the meagre requirements she’d voiced when they’d first negotiated their marriage bargain to know that they lived in different worlds.
Besides which, Thanos wasn’t interested in a real relationship.
The very idea turned his blood to ice in his veins. All his life, he’d known one thing with blinding clarity: love stinks.
If his own mother’s decline hadn’t proven that, then having a front-row seat to Dion and Maria’s marriage breakup—a situation his arrival had caused—had definitely sent him the message with complete certainty.
People were born alone; they died alone. It was futile to try to live your life in a way that defied this. A marriage that would get him back a company he should never have lost seemed about the best thing Thanos could hope for.
So desiring Alice was utterly out of the question.
With the kind of discipline he’d brought to his business when it had gone completely pear-shaped, he forced his body to behave, concentrating on calming an over-excited member of his anatomy in particular, grinding his teeth until things were a little less heated, and then he smiled down at the woman he was going to marry.
The woman he’d arranged to marry purely because it made business sense. The woman he’d selected because she needed money, and money was the strongest motivator.
And he relaxed.
Because they both knew it was a commercial agreement. They both knew it was a contractual arrangement, nothing more. They both knew the terms, and were prepared to stick to them. Desire was neither here nor there in this marriage.
* * *
She was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration when they emerged from the nightclub two hours later, and she knew it made the dress cling to her even more. Knew, and didn’t care. Her body was throbbing with pleasure and happiness, with a kind of light-heartedness she hadn’t felt in a long time—if ever. When she was a child, they’d always been so stretched financially that their home had been tense, and Alice had borne that tension, had carried it inside her.
Then Jane had had her stroke and Alice’s life had been plunged into an existence of worrying and stressing, of heartache and pain that she could rarely engage.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d simply danced. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled because happiness had been turning over inside her.
Everything was simple, and good, and she could relax a little.
A flash burst in her face, the light bright and blinding, and instinctively she curved her body closer to Thanos’s, her expression shifting from a relaxed smile to a look of pure panic. She heard his curse, and remembered the main reason they’d come out tonight was to be photographed. They were here purely for this.
Why had she forgotten?
Fool! She should have at least checked her appearance in the cloakroom before leaving the bar.
‘Got a live one, Thanos?’ one of the paparazzi shouted, his accent cockney despite the fact they were in New York.
Thanos glared over Alice’s head and then looked down into her face. She felt a strange, budding sense of calm despite this odd invasion of their privacy.
‘You are sure about this?’ he asked, quietly, his eyes roaming her face, giving her one last opportunity to pull out.
As if she could—even if this one very brief brush with his lifestyle had made her balk at what lay ahead. Thanks to his generosity, her mother was in a five-star care facility.
Thanks to Thanos, Alice would be living debt-free for the first time in years.
‘I’m sure,’ she agreed firmly.
‘Okay, then.’ He dipped his head forward and Alice had barely a second to get a grip of her emotions before his lips brushed hers. Just a quick buzz, skin on skin, an exhalation, and her pulse began to run riot in her veins, her skin prickling all over with goosebumps and anticipation.
Oh, my.
She lifted a hand to his chest, clinging to his shirt as though without his support she might topple to the ground, and unknowingly flashing her huge engagement ring for all the world to see. And see it they did, the photographers perched outside the Manhattan hotspot snapping furiously as they stayed clinging to one another, his body hard like a rock, hers soft and pliant. His hand curved around her back, resting just above the indentation of her spine, and his own breathing seemed ragged and out of control.
He was an excellent actor, because even as the moment threatened to drag every inch of sanity from her, there was still a small part of her that knew how run-of-the-mill this was for Thanos. How un-scintillating. How ordinary. This was a man who socialised with some of the most beautiful women in the world, who threw parties that Hollywood A-listers fought to attend.
He was hardly going to be truly moved by something as simple as a brushing of lips—and definitely not with someone like her.
If it weren’t for the fact he was paying her handsomely, she’d have pulled away and put some distance between them. But this was an act, a charade, and she’d agreed to play her part.
So she moved her hand a little higher, curving it over his shoulder to make sure the photographers behind them got a chance to glimpse the diamond. Only the act brought her body even closer, and as her flesh moulded to his she felt for herself all the proof she needed that he wasn’t entirely unmoved by this.
His arousal was like a rock against her belly and her harsh intake of breath was evidence that she’d felt it. Her eyes slid to his and her heart began to churn, because a drum was beating, slow and steady but unstoppably, and it was pulling Alice towards it, demanding she listen, and then that she answer.
‘Let’s go home.’ The throaty command came to her as if on delay. She heard his words, struggled to compute them, and finally nodded.
Home.
With her fiancé.
Her body trembled as he put a hand in the small of her back and guided her to a waiting limousine, opening the rear door for her and using his own body to cover hers as she stepped into the car in a dress that was too small to accomplish such a manoeuvre easily.
A second later, he was in the space with her, and the air seemed to crackle as though lightning were whipping between them.
Ten minutes ago, this had seemed simple. And then he’d kissed her, and her brain had fired up and her body had begun to feel things it had no business feeling and Alice could have sworn she was tipping right off the edge of the earth.
CHAPTER FIVE
HE SHOULDN’T HAVE kissed her.
Thanos lay in his bed, on his back, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, unable to get Alice Smart from his mind.
The kiss had been a mistake.
Sure, he’d wanted to get papped. He’d wanted a photo of them in all the papers and on all the blogs in the morning. He’d wanted to hit Kosta with a one-two-surprised-you when next they
spoke.
But kissing Alice?
Hell.
He’d opened a can of worms.
Dancing with her had been bad enough, but feeling her body pressed to his, capturing her lips, feeling her rush of warm breath, tasting her sweetness. Every single nuance of that interaction replayed in his mind now.
The feel of her body, warm and moist from dancing, her hair—the way it had smelled, like wildflowers on a sunny field. The way her fingers had knotted in his shirt, clinging to him as if she were drowning, the way her eyes had flown to his, filled with a surge of desire powerful enough to rob them both of breath.
It had taken every ounce of his legendary self-control to have his driver take Alice to her own home, to walk her to the door without going anywhere near enough to touch her—even by mistake.
Come home with me.
The words had rushed through his brain, demanding to be spoken, but thank Christós his tongue had obeyed him, refusing to offer an invitation that would only serve to complicate matters.
He groaned as his body tightened, growing hard beneath the sheet, so he thrust the thought away, pushing out of bed and striding to the windows that overlooked Manhattan.
This had the potential to be a total disaster if he didn’t control it.
He had no intention of really marrying a woman—ever—and that was why this marriage would work so well! It was business. Business, business, business.
Except it wasn’t.
Or rather, it wouldn’t be, if he didn’t take very great care to keep a lid on his desire for her, and to ensure she did the same.
With a roll of his eyes and a guttural moan, he wondered if it was too late to insert a non-consummation clause in their marriage contracts. A threat that she’d void everything if they slept together.
It wasn’t exactly unreasonable, but the second the thought occurred to him, he dismissed it. And that alone should have given him a mountain of doubt.
Because he wasn’t fighting hard enough to control this—and Thanos always fought for what he wanted.
* * *
Sydney Harbour glistened before him. He kicked back on his yacht, staring out at the world-famous skyline, glad he’d had business here in Australia to take him away from Alice. After the night at the club, he’d needed some space. The kind of space he couldn’t get in a city like Manhattan. True, it was teeming with more than one and a half million people, but there was one who kept drawing his focus, distracting him when he could really do without it.
And so, Sydney.
He’d always loved this city for its mix of old and new, for its air of entrepreneurialism and elitism, its egalitarian spirit. And he loved it now for being a port in the storm.
A reprieve.
A bolthole.
Yes, he’d run away.
He’d had an envelope delivered to Alice at home the morning after the club, containing his credit card and a list of things he suggested she buy. Clothes, shoes, bags, jewels, all the things his wife would be required to have on hand, as well as some things she might not think of, which only she could deal with, such as updating her passport.
And then, he’d left the country without daring to see her again.
It was too risky.
He didn’t want to complicate this.
Their arrangement had been perfect, and it still would be. They both just needed to get used to what they’d agreed to, to remember the reasons it made sense to keep things on a certain level, and everything would be fine.
* * *
Alice stroked her mother’s hand, wondering when her skin had become so papery, and tears cloyed her throat.
‘I bought my wedding dress today, Mom.’ She lifted her gaze to her mother’s face, as always, looking for a hint of recognition, anything that might suggest Jane had heard a word of what was being said. ‘It’s beautiful. You’d love it. Or maybe you’d hate it,’ Alice said in a voice that was half apology, half amusement.
The dress had cost a fortune, but once she’d started looking on the Internet for inspiration, scouring the weddings of people ‘like’ Thanos—not that there were many—she’d realised she’d have to up her game and buy something a little more luxurious than the chain-store gown she’d been eyeing.
Besides, these wedding photos would be printed in huge publications. She needed to look as if she’d gone to an appropriate degree of effort.
‘It’s so nice.’ Nice? What a bland word for the stunning creation. A spectacular bodice fitted to her torso, sculpting her breasts in a way that even Alice had to admit was flattering, flaring into a big tulle skirt that was like something out of a fairy tale. The front was all Cinderella but the back was next-level sexy.
So much so, she’d almost resisted trying it on, but the stylist had been insistent and the second Alice had been buttoned into it, she’d gasped, because the stylist was right: it was perfect. Completely backless, it showed Alice’s elegant figure to advantage, her creamy skin just the right shade to complement the crisp white of the dress.
‘I wish you could be at the wedding,’ she said honestly, thinking of how strange it would be to get married without her mother there. How utterly surreal to stand up in front of hundreds of people and say her vows to a man she’d only met a week or so ago, a man who most women would give their eye-teeth to marry.
Jane Smart lay completely still, as she had done ever since her stroke, and Alice sat beside her, gently padding a thumb over her mother’s hand, knowing, without any reason to believe it, that being there meant something to Jane. That her mother knew Alice was with her and was glad.
* * *
‘It’s not too late to pull out of this,’ Leonidas, murmured out of the side of his mouth.
Thanos looked around the packed marquee at the four hundred guests who’d travelled deep into the Provençal countryside on incredibly short notice to attend the nuptials of Europe’s most famous and established bachelor.
‘You don’t think?’
Leonidas grinned, shrugging his shoulders. ‘You’re Thanos Stathakis. You can do whatever the hell you want.’
Thanos discounted the idea immediately. This made sense. Almost two weeks apart from Alice had reminded him of the professionalism required by this arrangement. She’d worked for him in one capacity for six months; this wasn’t really hugely different. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple.
‘What I want is to buy Petó,’ he reminded Leonidas softly, turning his gaze on his brother’s face. ‘And Alice is the key to that.’
‘Speaking of which, Kosta Carinedes is here. Did you see?’
Thanos lifted a brow, a smile quirking his lips. ‘This whole thing is for his benefit. Did you think I would not invite him?’
Leonidas shook his head ruefully. ‘You really are too good at this.’
Thanos shrugged, his expression like steel as the purpose for this marriage firmed in his mind. ‘I’ve spent way too much time on P & A to lose it now.’
‘After this, I imagine it is in the bag.’
‘Let’s hope so.’
‘What’s she like, anyway?’
Alice.
He frowned, trying to think of the words to describe his one-time assistant. Efficient. Pragmatic. No nonsense. And yet, she wasn’t really, was she?
All it had taken was a few hours’ dancing, the quickest kiss, and they’d both gone up in flames.
His pulse lifted now, his body temperature climbing in anticipation of seeing his bride, and he had to work double time to tamp down on the response. ‘She’s...unusual.’
‘Unusual? Does she have three heads?’
Thanos bared his teeth in an imitation of a smile. ‘I mean, she’s not my usual type.’
‘Naturally. This isn’t your usual wedding though, is it?’
‘No,’ Thanos was quick to agree.
Thanos shook his head, desperate to refute that suggestion. ‘It’s just business.’
‘Are you sure?’ Leonidas’s eyes rested on his brother’s profile thoughtfully.
‘Absolutely certain. As soon as I have the contract for P & A, this marriage is over and I’ll likely never see my “wife” again.’
‘And she’s okay with that?’
‘Okay with it? She’s thrilled. We both are. That’s the deal we’ve struck.’
Remembering the deal was important. He invoked it now as a talisman to the purpose for this wedding, smiling with an air of relaxation that he didn’t completely feel.
The eleven members of the French Philharmonic Orchestra, who’d been instructed to play pre-ceremony music, brought their piece softly to a close, and silence began to descend upon the marquee.
It reigned for only a moment before the famous strains of the wedding march began to play, the music robust and beautiful.
Thanos’s eyes moved with a sort of desperate fatalism towards the entrance, his whole body on alert for this moment. He reminded himself he was supposed to look like a man in love, a man waiting to see a woman he adored, and he pasted a look on his face that he hoped passed for doting—and tried not to think how much genuine anticipation there was in his body at that moment.
The instant Alice appeared, he found it almost impossible to conceal his true reaction. Several things hit him all at once.
She was walking down the aisle alone. This he had expected. He knew from their conversations that her mother was obviously bedridden, and, from the light background check Leonidas had insisted Thanos run, that her father was a mystery. No one was named on her birth certificate, no one had shared legal custody of Alice, certainly there was no one in her life who’d acted the part of father.
And there were no siblings.
He hadn’t expected, therefore, that she would be accompanied down the aisle, and yet the sight of her on her own did something strange to his gut, pulling at it mercilessly, so he fought an impulse to push a hand against the wall of his stomach.