Greek Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride (The Rosso Family Series, #1) (7 page)

That resolve was harder to hang onto. The two sales girls—both in elegant black dresses—glanced at her, skimmed their gazes over her clothes like she should be tossed out with the trash. But then they saw Antonio. Warm smiles appeared and both hurried to Claire. A rapid flow of Greek left Claire looking to Antonio for translations.

He let go of her hand and said, “English please. My...my fiancée is shopping for a wedding dress and a few other things she will need. Something for evening. A few things for afternoon.”

Smiling still, the clerks turned to her. They switched to English. One led her to a private dressing room, the other started to bring dresses—and Claire found the whole thing a little scary.

The dressing room was the size of her entire New York apartment. Antonio came in with her and soon was lounging on a couch, champagne in his hand as she tried on garment after garment. She kept rejecting them—until the green silk came out. It was light as gossamer, cut in a sheath that hugged her curves. She touched the fabric and thought she’d never felt anything like it. It not only made her eyes even greener, but the fabric seemed to shift colors in different light, like deep ocean water. Claire bit her lower lip. She just couldn’t let Antonio buy this.

But he lifted a hand and said, “We’ll take this one.”

Claire wanted to argue with him—but she couldn’t. The sales girls brought out gold sandals with a low heel to go with, a gold clutch and scarf. And Antonio agreed all were perfect. But Claire shook her head. “No, that scarf,” she said, and pointed to a multi-colored paisley shawl.

Her choice was instantly agreed upon by everyone except Antonio. He shook his head. “Eva would like such a thing, but it is too...too bright.”

Clare put a hand on her hip. “You said I could buy anything. Are we going to have an argument about it?”

He folded his arms. “Perhaps we should.”

She smiled and touched a finger to his chin. “Well, I’d win.” Heading behind the screen, she started to change. She gave the dress to the sales girls and they left the dressing room to package up her purchases.”

Claire shook out her jeans. And Antonio appeared around the screen, a light in his eyes. She clutched her jeans to her chest. “What are you doing here?” She tried to wave him away, but he stepped even closer.

“I gave to you on your choice—now I think you should give a little to me on my choice of what to do next.”

Jeans pressed to her chest and barely covering her bra and panties, Claire backed up a step. “And just what do you want to do? You do know the sales girls could walk back in at any—”

“They won’t. And I just want to do this.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back out into the dressing room. He positioned her in front of the mirror and stood behind her. “You said no to ten dresses at least that were beautiful—you are beautiful.”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve got nice hair and good eyes, but the rest.” She waved a hand at her body. “My hips are too big. I’m short and short waisted, and I—”

“And nothing. You are perfect.” He snatched her jeans away from her. She gave a gasp, but when she tried to cover her body, he took her wrists and pulled them to her side. “No, I want you to look and see yourself as I see you.” Pressing her hands to her sides he began to move them over her hips and then her stomach and then her breasts. He moved her hands with his, skimming her fingers over her skin as if they were his. Her skin prickled and heat burst inside her. She stared at her reflection, and at his skin—so dark next to her pallor. She watched as he moved her hands over her body.

“Your breasts are prefect—you do know the champagne glass, not the flute, but the original glass was patterned after a woman’s breast. It could have been your breasts used for that glass—they are the perfect shape and size. Taut with lovely nipples.” He ran her hands over her breasts. Her nipples hardened and she gasped. Antonio’s breath brushed her neck and he pressed closer behind her. She could feel his erection through her panties, hot and hard against her ass. “Your waist curves in—you could be Aphrodite—and the flare of your hips is enough to drive any man to utter distraction.” He pushed her hands over her stomach, and slipped on hand down under her lace panties and between her thighs.

Eyes closing, she let her head fall back on his shoulder. “Antonio—you can’t...we can’t...”

“Can’t...can’t...can’t! Why do you hang onto that useless word? Always you say it and yet you once were a girl who would run barefoot though the ruins of Athens.”

She tried to drag open her eyes—to pull away from him—but he held her prisoner in his arms. His voice drugged her arms and legs, left them heavy and left her reluctant to move away from that low, rough urgency she heard. “Antonio...” She tried to make the word a protest, but it came out needy.

“I love how you say my name.” He rubbed her hand over her mound and slipped her fingers into the dampness between her legs. “Now I want you to see yourself as I want to see you—lost to passion. I want to see you saying yes, not always that you cannot.”

She gave a moan. She shouldn’t...they shouldn’t. The risk of being caught...being seen...left her pulse pounding hard. And left her even wetter. Opening her eyes, she stared at the woman in the mirror.

Antonio had mussed her hair, left it wild around her face—and her eyes seemed even wilder. With one hand, he held her wrist and held her palm over her breast. With the other, he held her fingers between her thighs. She ached—she needed—she started to rub herself.

“Yes...yes...” Antonio’s voice purred in her ear. She glanced at him and saw the same wildness in his eyes—the same need. Letting go her wrists, he plunged his fingers into her. She came with a shout and he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her cries. His fingers pushed deeper and she collapsed against him, unable to stand. Unable to do anything but come apart under his touch.

The tremors shook her, and Antonio quieted his touch until she could pull in a breath and look at him again. Her skin burned—with embarrassment and pleasure. He smiled at her. “Now will you start to think you are beautiful?”

She nodded. She couldn’t do anything else. He kissed her. A touch of his lips, a flicker of his tongue. She tried to pull him down for more but he stepped back. She swayed. “You should dress now.”

He left the dressing room—left her still shattered.

And she knew then that she was going to really have to watch her step.

Because she was too close to falling for him—and that would only lead to heartache when he divorced her and they went back to their separate lives.

“W
here is she?” Alexandra asked. She and Eva had burst through the front doors of the house. “Claire? Where are you?”

Antonio had texted her that he was marrying Claire—wasn’t it just like him to text that kind of news. Alexandra had been stunned by the announcement—and that Antonio was even putting it in the paper, just as required to marry. She’d known about Antonio’s past with Claire. Antonio hadn’t wanted to talk about it, and neither had their father, but Dareios had told Alexandra everything, and she in turn had told Eva. Now they were both dying to meet the mysterious Claire.

Was she really what their father had said—a poor American who wanted to marry money? If she was, she was about to get her wish—and then Antonio would pay her and she would go. But what if she wasn’t that? Alexandra couldn’t imagine her brother ever falling for a woman who just wanted money from him. He was too smart for that—he always had been. But if Claire was a wonderful girl, why had Antonio let her slip away? Alexandra knew she had to meet this girl—and then she would decide if she could let Antonio do this terrible thing of marrying just to inherit.

Alexandra turned to Eva and pointed to the stairs. “You try upstairs.” Eva gave a nod and ran up the stairs. Alexandra started to search the downstairs. Pulling open a door, she ran into strong arms that caught her. She looked up into Dareios’ laughing blue eyes.

Her face warmed and she ducked her head to hide her reaction.
He’s your brother’s best friend. That makes him off limits.
But she knew the real issue—Dareios was more like her brother. And that was all he was.

“
Kalimera
, Alexandra. What? No hug for me?” He swept her into his arms and spun her around. Putting her on her feet, he grinned. “You grow prettier every day...now that you’re not a pesky teenager, following me and your brother around. Or are you still following Antonio?”

Alexandra stepped back and shrugged. “I am looking for Antonio...and Claire. Have you seen them? We were supposed to be here yesterday, but Eva wanted to see a new shop that opened in Athens.” She knew she was talking too much, and she snapped her lips closed.

“Sure. Claire is in the back room, playing with her new toys.” Dareios jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Toys?” Alexandra asked.

Dareios grabbed her arm and started walking her down the hallway. “Antonio asked me to set up a recording studio here for Claire to use. I’ve been two days bringing in equipment, and Claire’s been meeting with this documentary maker—Nick Stavos. They’ve been going over scripts. Now I’ve got to get some builders in to sound proof the room so Claire can start doing her narration for the film.”

He led her into a room that seemed all wires and levers and buttons and lights. A girl with long, blonde hair was bending over one of the boards, running her hands over it as if it was a lover.

Dareios cleared his throat and the girl jumped and straightened. She smiled, and Alexandra thought she liked this girl. She had an open face and warm eyes. She also stuck out her hand. “You must be Alexandra—you look so much like the portrait of your mother.”

Alexandra pulled Claire into a hug. “You’re going to be family—so we don’t shake hands.”

Stepping back, Claire grinned. “Where’s Eva? I might as well meet all the family.”

“She’s looking for you upstairs. Are you busy?”

Claire shook her head. “Just drooling over the equipment—Antonio doesn’t do anything by half measures, does he?”

Alexandra grabbed Claire's hand and pulled her from the room. “Come on, we will go sit by the pool, have drinks and dinner and get to know each other.”

Dareios called out, “Just remember, when it comes to swim suits, live by the motto that less is better.”

***

D
areios heard feminine laughter and knew he’d been forgotten. They’d gossip, drink and swim—and he’d miss the sight of those beautiful bodies. Giving a sigh, he turned off the lights in the studio and went in search of Antonio. Maybe he could convince the man to take a few hours off to hit the gym. Anything would be better than sticking around here to torture himself with visions of Alexandra in a swimsuit. The girl just loved to taunt him with her body—but she was more like a sister to him. And Antonio would kill him if he ever treated Alexandra as anything but a sister.

He found Antonio a few minutes later in the drawing room with Claire and his sisters. For the past two days it had seemed to him as if Claire was almost avoiding Antonio—she seemed to want to spend all her time in the studio. But he also saw her watching Antonio anytime she thought Antonio was not looking at her. He was not quite certain what was up with those two. He’d heard the story from Antonio that they were to marry—young lovers parted and now together again. He did not quite believe the story, but there was a spark between them. And a strain. However, it was not his job to ask questions—he just hoped Antonio knew what the hell he was doing. Claire seemed a nice girl. Dareios had always liked her, and he was starting to worry for her.

Antonio was also starting to look like a hungry man every time he stared at Claire. He looked away from her now—and he looked a little guilty as if he’d been caught thinking of things that should be kept in bedrooms. But he put on a bright smile and waved for Dareios to join them. “We’re taking the rest of the afternoon off. Grab a suit from the pool house and join us.”

Dareios offered a slight smile. “Sure. It’s a beautiful day out there.” And he wondered if this day could get any more complicated.

***

“I
f I stay in this water any longer I’m going to shrivel up and become a prune,” Claire declared. She climbed out of the water, her skin wet and glistening. Antonio put a towel over his lap. It was getting worse.

Ever since he had taken Claire shopping, he had wanted more of her. He thought of her at night—and in the mornings. He seemed to always be hard—and always to be thinking of her.

They had swum and eaten a delicious meal of kabobs, Gaia’s dolmas—which she made with pine nuts and mint as well as rice and grape leaves—and a salad of cucumbers, feta cheese, tomatoes and Greek olives. Claire had gone back into the pool to burn off some of the calories, and Antonio had had to keep himself still and seated so he would not follow her. He wanted his hands on her again. He wanted to feel her come apart in his arms. But he knew he’d frightened her a little. She’d been careful around him for the past two days. And after she’d come out of that dressing room where she’d come apart in his arms, she’d made certain that he stayed where he could not see her strip down.

But now he could see her body.

Her swimsuit—a one piece—clung to every curve. She might think it modest, but he could see her nipples had hardened from the cool water. Water slid from her thighs, and he could only think about how wet she had been when he had made her touch herself. She was beautiful—she was Aphrodite stepping from the sea. And he wanted her to know that.

He had much to make up for—she had thought he had agreed with his father. And that was wrong.

Eva climbed out of the steps and squeezed the water from dark hair. She wore a tiny bikini that left Antonio frowning. She was getting to be too old to wear such things—she was barely covered. She saw him frowning and stuck out her tongue at him, and then said, “I’m coming up with you.”

“Great. See you all at dinner,” Claire grabbed a towel and headed into the house. Eva followed her, her towel draped over her shoulder.

Antonio’s cell phone rang and he answered absently, “Hello?” He listened for a few minutes and then he frowned. “Don’t I pay you to handle such things? What do you mean, he demands?” He heard a babbled excuse and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”