The Greek Billionaire's Counterfeit Bride (9 page)

At some point during the night, she had had a dream: in it, Ari had confessed to her that he had been charmed, absolutely infatuated with her from first sight, and that his scheme of pretending that she was his wife for potential business partners had been nothing more than an excuse to convince her to spend time with him. Eva covered her face with her hands and sighed.
I like him. I more than like him. It’s not just that he’s the best lay I’ve ever had, either.

She shook her head and carefully slid out from between the sheets, needing to get away from the Greek and all of the complicated emotions just the sight, the presence of him, evoked.
Get a hold of yourself. You’re in this to keep from getting sued—once it’s over you and Ari Christodoulou will part ways and you’ll never hear from him again.
As Eva gathered up her clothes and began to get dressed, she couldn’t help but feel sad at the practical advice she’d given herself. The dream lingered in her mind, even as she found her purse and quietly left the room.

Chapter Ten

The Hyde Park dining room at The London had been absolutely transformed; as Eva stepped into the room at Ari’s side, she took in the bunting and banners, the decorative touches that the staff had implemented in the name of one of their most appreciative and loyal clients. Eva still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the details of their pending dinner with the royal family; Ari had reserved the entire building—in spite of the fact that they were only using the one room. For the next three hours, The London would be empty of everyone but the staff, Ari, herself, and their guests.

Eva glanced at Ari, taking a deep breath as they approached the table where the members of Al-Akanish Shipping had already settled. She was in a dress so expensive that even during the fattest days of her previous life as a con artist, Eva wouldn’t have been able to afford it. He had had his personal assistant buy her matching shoes and coordinating jewelry as well—including the engagement and wedding ring that she would need to pretend to be his wife. Eva felt the familiar frisson of nervousness that always came to her in the moment before she made a pitch, or got into the moment of a new scam; there was the lurch in her stomach, the certainty that when it came down to it, she would forget every single detail that she was supposed to remember. Her hand tightened on Ari’s and he glanced at her. “Okay?”

“Yes,” Eva said, nodding ever so slightly. She knew that she looked as beautiful as anything short of surgery could make her; she had spent hours in a salon earlier in the day, being primped and primed, made up and styled. She looked flawless—as anyone would expect a wife of a billionaire to be. Eva looked at their assembled guests and carefully apprised them one by one: they were mostly men, with two women at the table as well, and Eva wondered if the women were siblings or wives.

She had suggested to Ari that it might be a good idea for her to research their guests in more detail, to have some conversational gambits to turn to; Ari had pointed out that it would be in keeping with her status as his wife to know only a few things about his clients—he had always kept his personal and professional lives separate.

“Good evening, gentlemen and ladies,” Ari said as they came to the table. He inclined his head towards each of the representatives, drawing Eva closer. “Of course you know who I am already; but I would love to introduce you all to my wife, Eva.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Eva said, nodding at the members of the royal family. Ari pulled her seat out and Eva carefully sat herself down, performing a last-minute frantic skim through the information she had assembled in her mind over the course of the week since Ari had made his proposition to her.

“How did the two of you meet?” Eva glanced at Ari, fighting back the urge to grin at him. Taking turns, they told the members of the shipping company the story they had concocted between them; the story took until the servers came to the table to take everyone’s orders for the dinner, and Eva was glad that the interruption happened—it lessened the chance that anyone would think too hard about the story of their meeting.

The dinner moved forward, and Eva’s initial nerves faded as she spoke more and more, exchanging small talk with different members of the party at their table even as Ari discussed weightier business matters. She found herself remembering details that she would never have imagined possible about Ari—things that she had learned in random, idle conversation at the bar they’d gone to, during their first tryst together, and in the relaxed moments when they took breaks between quizzing each other.

“Your life seems like it would be very interesting,” one of the guests at the table remarked. “The wife of a billionaire.” Eva grinned at the man, reaching out and touching Ari’s hand in a show of affection that wasn’t difficult to perform. She had struggled with the conflict of her feelings towards the wealthy Greek ever since she had noticed them and recognized them, but Eva had given herself permission to indulge at least her craving for contact with the man, at least in public.

“Does your wife find it interesting?” Eva raised an eyebrow. “Whenever I can pry Ari away from his work, we have good times together,” she added.

“What do you like to do together?” Eva remembered the things that Ari had said that he liked to do.

“Well, of course, no two people have exactly the same interests,” Eva explained. “But we do like to go to concerts together, and of course, Ari has that lovely—utterly lovely—boat. Whenever the weather is nice enough, we love to go out on that.”

She fielded questions at random, talking about Ari’s siblings, about his education. Next to her, she heard Ari answering a few queries about her life, about their life together. As the dinner progressed, Eva felt more and more comfortable in her pretend role, relaxing enough to manage to eat the delicious food that The London had prepared for the meal. She kept away from business-related questions that were occasionally tossed in her direction, pointing out that she was wife—not business partner—with a smile.

“I understand that the two of you are living in this hotel right now,” one of the guests remarked. Eva nodded. “For a couple interested in starting a family a hotel seems perhaps…less than ideal.”

“We’re looking for a suitable home here in the city,” Eva replied. She gave Ari’s hand a squeeze, signaling him to jump into the conversation, since he had finished answering another question about his business from another member of the royal family.

“Yes,” Ari said, nodding slightly. “In fact, just last week we were looking at a few places—of course, it takes some time. We’re both people of exacting standards.” He told a story that Eva had told him, a childhood incident when she had held out against a handful of lesser temptations until her parents had finally been forced to get her the bike that she had wanted: one that was almost twice as expensive as the one her older brother had. “So as you can see, I have a lot to live up to—Eva expects nothing less than exactly what she wants and needs, and I live to make her happy.”

By the time dessert—sticky toffee pudding and burnt cinnamon ice cream—arrived at the table, Eva was certain that they had managed to play their marriage to each other off convincingly. Ari was in his element, looking as strikingly handsome as always, speaking confidently about future plans that he had that the partnership with Al Akanish would make possible. Eva smiled as much as she could, making small talk, finding out more about their guests in the capacity that she had been given.
It actually wouldn’t be that bad to be Ari’s wife, when it comes down to it,
she thought, making sure that her ruminations didn’t show on her face.
He’s a busy man, but he takes time for what’s important. That’s something I haven’t been able to find in anyone else—and none of them have been billionaires with international businesses under their control.

The dinner proper came to an end, and Eva excused herself from the table, telling their guests that she wanted to check on a few details with the staff. She ducked into the corridor outside of the dining room and a moment later, Ari appeared. “We did it,” he murmured, smiling down at her.

“I think we did,” Eva agreed, nodding. She felt utterly gorgeous in her dress, and the thrill of having pulled off the scam made her whole body tingle even above and beyond the basic attraction she felt towards Ari.

Before Eva could say anything else, Ari closed the distance between them, claiming her lips with his own. Eva melted against his body, giving into the temptation that had been bubbling inside of her all night—in fact, for days. Ari had been absolutely right that there was more than a little physical chemistry between them; and the trysts they had shared had made it easier for Eva to fall into her pretend-husband’s rhythm and flow, to look easily, readily affectionate towards him at the dinner table.

It had tormented her for days—throughout their weeklong intense preparation for the charade they had just given—but for the moment, Eva was more than happy to give herself free rein to enjoy the moment, to kiss Ari back, and to moan softly against his lips as she felt his hands tightening, caressing and touching through the fabric of her obscenely expensive dress.

“You were absolutely amazing,” Ari told her when he broke away from the kiss finally. “You couldn’t have done better if you had actually been my wife.” Eva giggled, covering her mouth with her hand so that the sound wouldn’t travel. She was sure that out in the corridor, they were well out of earshot of their guests; but she didn’t want to take a chance of alerting someone who might be on the way to the bathroom that something else was happening.

“I nearly believed you were actually my husband,” Eva said, gently and carefully tapping her forehead against Ari’s in an affectionate bunt. “Now—are you taking care of my part of the deal?”

“I’ve got it all under control,” Ari told her confidently. He grinned, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe we completely pulled it off,” he said. “They actually believe that we’re husband and wife.”

“The apartment, though—you’ve got it taken care of?” Eva’s hot, sweet arousal was not quite strong enough to make sure that she got the part of the deal promised to her; the realtor’s lawyer hadn’t called in the days since she’d told Ari about the follow-up, but that didn’t necessarily mean that it was a done deal. Ari could still back out of his end, having taken what he wanted from her.

“The apartment is going to be taken care of,” Ari said with a nod. “I would have taken care of it anyway, because I wanted that apartment bad,” he grinned and Eva rolled her eyes, still pleased with the success of their scheme. “But I want you to know that I appreciate what you’ve done. I wouldn’t leave you hanging on something like that. You’ve done such a good job, little wife.” Eva snorted.

“That is a really terrible pet name for me,” she told him. “It’s a good thing we aren’t actually married—I’d have to waste so many hours schooling you on how to address me.”

“Now that you mention that—I was wondering: would you be willing to do this again?” Eva raised an eyebrow.

“Just how many businesses have you been trying to work with for years who don’t want to have anything to do with you unless you have a wife?” Ari rolled his eyes.

“It would be for events of a few different kinds,” he told her tartly but quietly. “But there are lots of occasions I can think of where having a wife at my side would make a good impression. I’d be willing to pay you a retainer fee, since my hand is played out on the current thing.” Eva smiled wryly at him, but her heart sank at the offer that Ari had made. She had not quite come to terns with the fact that she had feelings for the man—but she had recognized that it was true. The thought of pretending to be his lover when it was convenient for him to have a spouse at his side almost turned her stomach. Eva shook her head.

“I can’t do that,” she said, sighing. “I can’t—I don’t want to pretend to be your wife at your convenience.”

“I told you: I’ll pay you steadily. You won’t want for anything in the world.” Eva shook her head again.

“I could win the lottery tomorrow and never want for anything in the world,” she pointed out. “I’m not exactly interested in becoming an escort.” Ari scowled down at her.

“You wouldn’t be an escort—you’d be my companion. Paid discreetly, of course. And you’d be making connections, getting to know people, becoming someone who doesn’t have to switch between menial customer service jobs and a life of crime.” Eva stared at him in shock, wondering if she was even understanding him correctly.

“Is it the fact that this went off without a hitch that’s made you so anxious to have a fake wife?” Eva crossed her arms over her chest, feeling vulnerable and naked under Ari’s gaze. “Or am I that good a lay on top of it?”

“Both of those things,” Ari said with a shrug. “And then some. But mostly it really is that I need a woman to present as my partner. I need to know that the woman I choose is able to hold up to the ideas that I have.”

“You took my ideas,” Eva countered.

“We took each other’s,” Ari corrected. Eva had to concede that that was right about that. Her throat felt dry. She was still reeling from Ari’s matter-of-fact assessment of why he wanted her to continue to play the part of his wife. “What do you say?” Ari raised a dark, well-groomed eyebrow. “From a practical standpoint it makes sense for you—you don’t have to worry about making ends meet, and you get all the nice dresses you could want.” Eva’s stomach turned over inside of her and she shook her head.

“No,” she said finally. “I can’t do it.” Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt her eyes tingling, stinging with tears that she tried to swallow down. “I need to tell you something, Ari.”