Greek Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride (The Rosso Family Series, #1) (9 page)

Tightening her towel, Claire said, “You didn’t have to bring up breakfast. Now I feel horrible that you had to bother.”

Alexandra grinned. “We can’t have you fainting this afternoon because you’re starving.” She put down the tray and picked up her coffee. “Are you excited? Nervous?”

“Yes, yes, and more yes.”

Tipping her head, Alexandra sipped her coffee. “You sure you and Antonio aren’t fooling yourselves into believing this is all pretend? Maybe the pretend is the pretend?”

Claire shrugged into a dressing gown, turned, and slipped the towel off. “No. We both have lives that are way too far apart—I’ve got a career, and Antonio...well, he really needs to find someone who can be that perfect businessman’s wife that he needs. He’s probably got society events already lined up and waiting.”

Coming over to her, Alexandra touched Claire’s hair. “Eva is ready to work her magic on your hair and your makeup.” Alexandra looked as if someone had already done her hair—her thick black hair had been pulled back and up into a French braid, but curls dangled loose around her face.

Stomach jumping, Claire drank some of her black coffee. Today, she needed the boost. “I’ve been doing my own hair and makeup for years.” She spread her hands wide. “I’m in show business after all.”

“You do voiceover work where you can look like crap. Eat some
koulourakia
while I go round up Eva. You’re going to thank me after she’s done with you.”

Eva came in carrying a case and dressed similar to Alexandra, but her dress was a brighter, more vivid blue—almost a turquoise—in a form-fitting sheath with a silver belt and silver shoes. She’d left her hair in a loose pony tail that fell over one shoulder. She grinned at Claire and said, “Time to close your eyes.”

Two hours later, Claire was finally allowed to see what magic Eva had worked. Eva had fussed and brought out an entire kit of makeup and...well, stuff was the only word Claire could think of for it. She’d had her hair curled and crimped and heaven only knew what else had been done. Alexandra had sat on Claire’s bed, offering opinions from time to time. Eva had made faces at her and ignored everything her sister said.

“Okay, you can open your eyes,” Eva said.

Claire sucked in a breath. Was she going to look ridiculous? She opened her eyes.

The vision that stared back at her looked amazing! Her hair had been curled and braided. The front parts wound around her head, while the back hung down in waves over her shoulders. Eva had woven golden ribbon into Claire’s hair. As she moved, the gold caught the light, giving her an almost ethereal appearance.

Her makeup had also never looked this good. Eva had somehow brought out the emerald green and even the golden flecks. Her skin seemed perfect—and she was...well, she looked beautiful. For once, she didn’t think her nose looked too short, or her chin too pointed.

“Antonio is going to have a coronary when he sees you,” Eva exclaimed clapping her hands in glee.

“Now for the dress!” Alexandra headed to the closet. She pulled out the dressing bag delivered from Linea Piu the day before. Eva and Alexandra had taken Claire to the exclusive shop and had said it was the only shop with Channel in all of Greece. Claire had purposefully not looked into the bag. She’d picked out a simple ivory suit and ivory pumps

Alexandra hung up the dressing bag and gave Claire a mischievous smile. “Okay, let’s get you dressed.” And she unzipped the bag. Instead of the suit Claire had picked out, Alexandra pulled out a beaded gown, complete with Grecian-style braiding across the bodice, and a scoop hemline, shorter in the front and which trailing to the floor in the back.

Mouth falling open Claire stared at it. She stood. “What...oh, my God, the shop sent the wrong dress!”

Alexandra laughed. “No, silly. This is your wedding dress. Eva and I went back to Linea Piu and cancelled that dull suit you were so dead set on.”

Claire stared at them. “Why would you do that?”

Alexandra shared a look with Eva and then came over and took Claire’s hand. “We know you are only doing this...well because Antonio must marry. But don’t you really want to knock Antonio’s socks off? Just once, don’t you want to see him speechless—his jaw hanging open and have him stare at you like you’re his very most favorite dish in the world? Eva and I love both you and Antonio very much. You should have at least one wonderful, happy day.”

“But...oh, I can’t.”

Eva came over and stood in front of Claire. “Yes, you can. Do you want to ruin your own wedding day!” Claire looked at the dress and felt tears spring to her eyes. Eva grabbed her free arm and shook it. “Don’t cry, you’ll mess up your makeup, and I’ll have to do it all over again.”

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Claire shook her head. “What’s Antonio going to think?”

“That you look like a goddess.”

Eva rolled her eyes. “You two should just sleep with each other and stop acting like you’re both twelve!”

Alexandra gave Eva a glare, and Claire avoided meeting either of their stares. She kept telling herself it was way better to be a little sexually frustrated for a few weeks and not give in to the urges Antonio kept stirring up. But she was also starting to think that, either way, she would end up a complete wreck when this fantasy ended.

Tugging on Claire’s dressing gown, Alexandra glanced at the clock. “We’ve got to move or you’re going to be late to your wedding.”

Ruthlessly, Alexandra and Eva stripped her and dressed her. When she turned to look at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t believe how perfectly the dress fit.

Peering at her in the mirror over her left shoulder, Eva grinned. “This is going to be the knock-off dress of the year.

Alexandra put an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “My brother is going to fall in love with you—like a man struck by a thunderbolt from Zeus.”

“That doesn’t sound so good.” Claire licked very dry lips, then remembered her makeup and tried not to fuss.

“Come on. It’s time. I can hear the music starting up.” Alexandra tugged her toward the doorway. Eva darted out and down the stairs—she was supposed to be the flower girl.

At the top of the stairs, Alexandra picked up the train of the dress. Eva pushed a bouquet of white roses and orange blossoms into Claire’s hand. Claire walked down the stairs, her hand shaking and her stomach doing somersaults.

The wedding was taking place in the back garden, just past the terrace. As they neared the doors leading out of the house, Claire saw that a gazebo had been set up at the far end of the garden. There were also about fifty more people than she’d expected. She turned to Alexandra. “Who is everyone?”

With a shrug, Alexandra said, “Cousins. These are only the ones Antonio had to invite, but we’ll be hearing from the family for years about this. Now go.” She put a hand on the small of Claire’s back and pushed.

Heart thudding, Claire started walking. She focused on Antonio and tried to ignore the stares on her and the whispers.

Antonio looked handsome in a dark-blue suit and an open necked button-down white shirt. He had a white rose in his lapel. He stared at her, his eyes darkening.  A shiver ran through her.

I can do this! I hope I can do this!

She made that her mantra as she walked and tried not to trip. She’d put on the gold sandals she’d bought with Antonio on that day he’d been so passionate in the dressing room. A string quartet played something classical that Claire couldn’t have named if she’d tried. She was vaguely aware of Dareios, standing next to Antonio, and of the few guests gathered near. The ceremony was a civil one—and Antonio had persuaded the official to come to the estate instead of going to the office like most people. Antonio had explained to Claire that the marriage would have to be registered to be valid, but he’d managed to get all the red tape unknotted and finished.

When she stepped next to Antonio, he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Nice dress.”

Face hot, Claire whispered back, “Thank your sisters. They hijacked my choice.”

“Remind me to buy them something outlandish as a thanks.” He gave her a wink and rested one hand on her waist.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Claire tried to focus on breathing so she wouldn’t pass out. The next thing she knew Antonio had slipped a ring on her finger, they were pronounce man and wife, and Antonio turned to kiss her.

H
e had a reason to kiss her—a good reason. At last. Antonio grabbed her, tipped her backwards, and pressing his body against hers. He wanted her to feel everything—to always remember this moment. He pressed his mouth to hers, heard her gasp, and then he forgot the world.

There was nothing but Claire—her lips, her mouth, her fragrance. He pressed her closer, feeling her breasts flatten against his chest. He tightened his hold and took possession of her mouth—of her. Finally, he ran out of breath. Head swimming, he righted her. Reluctantly, he let go.

Claire touched her mouth. He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him down the aisle so they could escape the small crowd for a few moments. He hurried her to another room downstairs that had been set aside for them to have a few moments of privacy before they must greet their guests. And before the wedding party began. He could already hear the music starting—Eva had hired a DJ and dance music blared. There would be no traditional
Tsamiko
dance—but if he knew his cousins, maybe there’d be ouzo-soaked
Zeibekiko
dancing later. For now he needed to talk to Claire.

He pulled her into the room with him and took her hands. “Claire, thank you. From the bottom of my heart for marrying me. I know this is not the wedding you always dreamed of.”

Claire shook her head. “But it was. I mean, it didn’t start out that way, but your sisters turned it into something I will always remember, only—”

“Only you wish you could have had your parents here. That you could have married someone you loved for your first time.” Antonio suddenly wished things had turned out differently. He’d had once been in love with her—or he thought he had.

Claire shrugged. “What happens now?”

“We go out to talk with our guests. We eat. We must dance. And then we fly to Kato Antikeri and spend a week there.” She parted her lips, and he knew she was about to give him one of her reasons not to do something. He put a finger across her lips. “Trust me, this is for the best. The news media is already at the front gate, and the staff can only protect us for so long. We need a little time so they become interested in some other scandal.”

Claire nodded.

A knock sounded on the door and Dareios called out, “Time to make an appearance, you two love birds. Your guests cannot drink until they toast to your happiness.”

Antonio turned to Claire. “Trust me to make sure everything will be just fine.”

Claire smiled, but Antonio heard her mutter, “If only that was so easy.”

But he didn’t know if she was talking about the situation—or about trusting him.

***

“A
dmit it, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Antonio peeled Claire’s hands from his thigh. He was certain she had left bruises when the pilot had landed the sea plane just off the main bay for Kato Antikeri. The island was small, with only the Villa Livia, goats, sheep, olive groves and white sand beaches. A wooden dock stretched into the bay and the pilot eased the sea plane toward the wooden pier.

Claire swallowed and shook her head. “Not my favorite way to travel.”

“Come on, let’s get out and you can take a look. The staff will carry our luggage to the villa.”

She nodded and allowed Antonio to help her from the plane. She seemed wobbly on her feet, and Antonio kept an arm around her waist. Thanopolis—an ancient who had been caretaker here for longer than Antonio could remember—met them at the dock with his son, Stephan, a skinny man far older than Antonio. Looking up the hillside, Antonio could see Mrs. Thanopolis—her gray hair pulled back and the wind whipping her black dress—standing on the terrace around the Villa Livia. The older woman waved to them.

Glancing back, he saw Claire had already taken off her sandals. She had changed from her wedding dress to jeans and a pink T-shirt. She still looked beautiful. He was certain, too, that the wedding party was still going on back in Athens, but he was glad to be away from the noise and all that family.

Sandals in her hand Claire headed for the white sand beach while Antonio helped Thanopolis and his son unload the plane. He was glad Claire had packed light—just a single bag. He had packed two bags, and he asked Thanopolis if the villa was well stocked for food and got back a shrug that could mean of course or of course not. Thanopolis and his son headed to the steps leading up to the villa, and the sea plane headed back out onto the open water. When the plane had taken off, Antonio headed over to Claire.

“Come on. We can take our time with the steps. Life at the villa is the old way—my mother wished it to be that way. We have fresh water from a well, but no electricity. 

She gave him a sideways look, and then pulled out her cell phone. “No signal either. What do you do if there’s an emergency?”

“Don’t worry, there’s a radio.” Climbing the stairs to the villa, Antonio pointed out the cove with the best snorkeling, and the olive grove. “We still make olive oil here on the island the old way, and Mrs. Thanopolis makes her own yoghurt and we have bees for honey.”

Stopping, Claire shaded her eyes. “The view is amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen water with those colors of blues and greens.” Tipping her head to the side. “Maybe I’m not so sure I want to give you back the villa.” He narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed. “Don’t worry—just kidding. This place would be terrible for an orphanage—or just about anything except maybe a total retreat. But you might want to think about solar for at least a little power.”

They reached the top of the stairs and Claire gave a gasp.

Antonio smiled.

The Villa Livia had changed little over the last thousand years. It had been a Roman villa once—and it still had the columns and elegant courtyard of the first villa. It was modest in size, and it had been reworked over the centuries. The roof was tile, the walls whitewashed, the doors a bright blue-painted wood. Red geraniums grew in flower boxes under the windows. Antonio waved a hand at it. “The bathrooms were added around the turn of the last century, and a wing was added a hundred years before that, but not much else has changed. Roman generals once vacationed here, and the villa has seen more than its share of storms and wars—but it still stands. My mother called it a survivor.”