The Greek Tycoon's Tarnished Bride (Men of the Zodiac) (10 page)

“Payment?”

“Let
’
s call it recognition of the sacrifice you have made for Nick. How about I put a few million pounds aside in an investment portfolio that will transfer to you on our divorce? Or you can just have hard cash. Or gold bullion, whatever you want. We
’
re talking twenty years here, potentially. Or at least until Nick or you decide he doesn
’
t need to live with his mummy any longer.”

“That
’
s a horrible thing to say.”

“I
’
m a realist. I left home at eighteen and never moved back in. How about you?”

She made a huffing sound and fiddled with a napkin. “The same.”

“So we can
’
t be absolutely certain about anything that will happen in the future, but I think it would be sensible to make a legal agreement between us at this point. To make sure there are no misunderstandings and everyone is treated fairly.”

“A prenup?”

“Yes, let
’
s call it that.”

“Hell, we have a
lot
to discuss if I
’
m going to go through with this.”

She was still resisting the idea? He needed to employ a steamroller technique in that case. “We need to pin down all the important details now so the documents can be drawn up before we leave for Gibraltar tomorrow night.”

“Gibraltar?”

“For our civil wedding ceremony. It
’
s the fastest place in Europe to do it. No residency requirements apart from spending one night there either before or after the wedding and minimal documentation.”

“Oh, now slow down.”

“My people already have your documents and the necessary arrangements are being made. Have you signed the DNA form I gave you?”

“No, I haven
’
t.”

“I will have it brought down for you to deal with now in that case.” He took his cell phone from his pocket and turned it back on. He made a point of turning it off at meal times and during meetings; it was only polite and he was not available twenty-four–seven for anyone. The phone was for his convenience, not anyone else
’
s.

The starters arrived just as Tito finished his call, perfect timing for a change of subject. He was guessing Erica would be a lot easier to deal with if she could relax a little. “I
’
m not a huge fan of this country, but there
’
s no denying your fish is good.”

“Really?” She slowly sliced through one of the seared scallops, its caramelized surface opening to reveal the sweet, pearly white flesh inside.

“It
’
s the cold sea water that does it apparently.”

He watched as the silver prongs of her fork disappeared briefly between her lips. She closed her eyes for a moment and chewed. “Delicious.”

“Thought it would be.”

“Never had them before. Way too expensive and, as my dad used to say, if you
’
re going to try something for the first time make sure it
’
s the best you can afford. I reckon something knocked up by a Michelin-starred chef ranks highly, especially as I
’
m not paying.” She speared another piece of shellfish. “How
’
s yours?”

“Crab, langoustine, and lobster makes me very happy.”

She chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “We need to talk about this wedding.”

“Yes, good. I
’
m told the registry office is full up for the next week, so my people have arranged an intimate outdoor, civil ceremony at a place called The Glade. Apparently it
’
s quite pretty, in a sunken area of some botanical gardens beneath a wooden bridge. We
’
ve got the first slot of the day before the crowds turn up. The day after tomorrow. Should only take about ten minutes and we
’
ll be done.”

“How romantic.”

He was unsure if she was being sarcastic or not. “If you
’
d like anything in particular arranged, flowers, an engagement ring, that kind of thing, let me know now.”

“Of course not. None of this is real, is it? A means to an end. A marriage in name only, right?”

“It could be nothing else in the circumstances, I agree.”

“So, beyond the marriage and going forward maybe as much as two decades our real lives will be on hold. Don
’
t you want children of your own with a woman you love? A Makris heir?”

This question was bound to arise again from someone, but he had his answer well rehearsed. “I will never have children so it
’
s not an issue, and a genuine desire for marriage isn
’
t something I foresee happening either. That is all I am willing to say on the matter.”

She looked startled and blinked a couple of times as he stuck a fork roughly into his food. “But what about…
women. You
’
re not telling me you can go twenty years without, well, you know?”

He hadn
’
t expected that question, though. Hadn
’
t even thought about it. Possibly because the only woman on his mind right now was sitting opposite him. “As long as we both agree to be discreet, I am sure we can agree to accommodate each other
’
s…
needs.
”

“
We have secret affairs?
”

Tito set his cutlery down and shrugged. He felt awkward now, which was ridiculous for a man of his age and standing. He was also annoyed with himself for not having thought this particular aspect of the arrangement through. He hated not being prepared for anything. “If that is what you want and will persuade you that marrying me is tolerable, then yes. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Nothing.” For a microsecond he was about to suggest they might end up wanting a sexual relationship with each other and that if that should happen…thank God, he
’
d managed to shut up before doing that.

She had a disbelieving look on her face but appeared to accept his rebuttal. “
And our pre
nup will cover this particular aspect of our marriage?”

A smile flickered around the outer edges of her mouth and a tiny dimple he hadn
’
t noticed before appeared on her cheek. “It would probably be wiser to keep that kind of agreement between us and not commit it to paper.”

She chuckled. “You should see your face right now, Makris. It
’
s a picture.”

“
I don’
t see what
’
s so funny, and I don
’
t like being laughed at.”

Erica made a kind of snorting sound into her napkin that he suspected was more laughter. “Sorry. Must be the booze. But are you always this serious?”

“Do you not think this whole situation is serious?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Perhaps, I should self-medicate as well.” The waiter arrived to take their plates away. “Could I have a bottle of French Malbec with the steak?”

The waiter nodded. “Very good sir, an excellent choice.”

“You
’
ll sleep like a rock tonight if you drink all that,” Erica said once they were alone.

Tito leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Not if you join me, I won
’
t.”

E
rica almost choked even though her mouth was empty. “If I join you?”

“If you join me in drinking the Malbec. A couple of glasses shouldn
’
t prove too lethal.” His eyes glowed like the northern lights. “Did you think I meant something else?”

Of course she did! She had assumed he was suggesting the unthinkable, that they should spend the night together. “Are you trying to get me tipsy?” she countered in an attempt to turn the embarrassment back on him.

“Tipsy?”

“You know, a little bit drunk.”

His black eyebrows rose. “Now why would I feel the need to do that? I think you
’
re a strong enough woman not to do anything you don
’
t want to do.”

“Nice remark,” she said and downed the rest of her cocktail, glad that the sexual innuendo comment confusion had passed. She found Tito incredibly attractive, but she was already at a disadvantage power-wise here, and the thought that he might suspect she fancied him was excruciating. Unless, of course the feeling was reciprocated, which was bonkers. “So for the record you need to know that I really, really don
’
t want to be Mrs. Makris for the foreseeable future.”

He steepled his long fingers, touching the tips onto his top lip. “I think I already know that,” he said in a soft voice. “
But we
’
re not doing it because we want to; we
’
re doing it because we have little choice right now. It
’
s practical.”

“Yes, of course, practical.”
So, Tito didn
’
t want to get married and would never have any children. That was unusual, wasn
’
t it? “Do you mind me asking you something? Just to satisfy my curiosity?”

He smiled and her tummy felt wobbly. “Go ahead.”

The waiter and another member of staff came swinging through the door with their main courses and the wine, which made her jump. “When these two have gone,” she mumbled and gratefully took the glass of red wine offered once the plates had been set down. There were some things that had to be said in private. She stared at the flickering candle until they were completely alone and then blurted it out. “Tito, are you gay?”

The atmosphere in the room froze and Erica held her breath as he fixed her with an unreadable green and gold gaze. “Not to my knowledge.”

The tone of his voice was so rich and sexy she felt her thighs quiver like a rabbit about to run for its life. Her voice was in sharp contrast and it sounded small, high-pitched, and pathetic to her own ears. “I just wondered, that
’
s all. The fact you said you
’
ll never have children and that marriage isn
’
t your thing and…you seem to pay a lot of attention to your appearance. Sorry.”

He smiled. “I think I detect a backhanded compliment there, but you don
’
t need to apologize for asking a simple question, Erica. I
’
m not some kind of lunatic despot. And this isn
’
t eighteenth-century England, however much it looks like it in here.” He looked around the room at the heavy gold-framed oil paintings, porcelain urns, and finally up at the enormous crystal chandelier that twinkled directly over the table. “Speaking of which, if that thing came loose we
’
d both be dead.”

Erica looked up too. “What a horrible thought.”

“But it won
’
t, of course,” he added quickly and nodded towards her meal. “Chips and curry will get cold.”

“Oh yes, looks lovely.” She ripped off the corner of a steaming naan bread and dipped it into the creamy spiced sauce before devouring it. “And it
is
lovely, mmm.”

“So, to get back to the practicalities. Are there any other matters you want to discuss apart from my sexuality?”

God, that felt awkward. “I did apologize for that.”

“
I won
’
t forget, you know,” he said with a wry grin and then sliced into his perfectly charred steak. “But it would really help me if you would simply agree that this marriage will go ahead. It
’
s fundamental to the whole plan. Without it, everything will unravel, and I don
’
t want that to happen.”

The food in her mouth turned to sawdust. There was no avoiding the matter for much longer and what else was she supposed to do? Could she really turn around now and refuse to go through with it all? Was she prepared to pack up her son and somehow get back to her cold, damp apartment in the East End that was possibly being staked out by ruthless assassins when the promise of a better life was just a breath away? There was really only one question that she needed answered in all this. “If I agree to marry you, will you promise to treat Nick as your own son? To love him and care for him? It
’
s a lot to ask but I realize now that he needs a father figure in his life and another person who will lay down his life for him if needs be. I will agree to marry you and do all I can to make the situation tolerable if you can promise to do that.”

Tito leaned across the table, and laid his large, warm hand over hers again. She might be imagining it but there was a sudden vibrancy in his eyes. The crystal lamplights that filled the room reflected in his irises like green shooting stars, and the hard lines of his face appeared to soften. His voice dropped to a deep murmur, like a calm sea on a warm night. “I promise you on my life.”

Chapter Seven

E
rica woke to the sound of Nick grizzling in the cot next to her bed and could hardly believe it was morning already. She hadn
’
t slept well in spite of the good food and drink the night before—hardly surprising in the circumstances because her world had been turned upside down. She had also agreed to marry a complete stranger and their wedding was booked in Gibraltar for the following day. Tito Makris certainly didn
’
t mess around when he wanted to get something done, and she suspected he was pushing things so fast because he was worried she might change her mind.

She lay on her back and stared at the ornate plasterwork on the ceiling. There was a lot to do. First breakfast for Nick and she should try to have some too. Being tired and cranky from low blood sugar levels wasn
’
t going to be helpful for anyone. Then she needed to email her university course tutor and tell her she wouldn
’
t be attending for some time because…because what? She couldn
’
t really tell her the truth; they
’
d send around the men in white coats and get her sectioned for going crazy or something! And what would her likely options be? She
’
d already deferred part of her course when Nick was born because studying full-time and having a new baby on her own had proved simply too difficult. But at that point she had no other option. She had to forge a career to look after them both because there was no other hope of survival short of relying on state handouts for the rest of her life.

The reasons she had for struggling on with her degree weren
’
t valid anymore. The course she had started as a carefree teenager and enjoyed had become a millstone around her neck and a means to a far off end that wasn
’
t even certain. There were plenty of graduates without jobs these days, after all. She suddenly realized that leaving the course would be a huge relief; she wouldn
’
t have the frequent guilt of leaving Nick with the babysitter, she wouldn
’
t be tired all the time, she could be a full-time mother and not have to worry about food or heating or anything like that. Dear God, she had been fighting Tito from the moment they had met when all the time he had been offering her the chance to make the dreams she
’
d had since Nick had been born come true.

She sat up and smiled as she turned to her baby, who was dribbling over the rail of his cot and pummeling his sturdy legs into the mattress. “How about we have some lovely food and then have some fun?” she said and lifted him onto her lap on her bed. He pulled himself up and put his chubby arms around her neck so he could carry on bouncing.

“If you
’
re a good boy we could try and have a swim. There
’
s a great big heated pool downstairs apparently. We
’
ll ask Fermina or Mary to come with us so we don
’
t get in a pickle on our own.” Happiness rose inside her as their world gradually became bigger and brighter.

The bedside phone started to ring, which made Erica jump and Nick crank up the volume instantaneously. They never had a landline in the apartment due to the cost, and Erica realized just how intrusive it could be. At least you could turn a cell phone off. She felt like sounding curt to whoever was shattering their peace. “Yes,” she snapped and pressed her lips together into a cat
’
s bum shape.

“It
’
s only me.” Tito
’
s voice was deep, as if he
’
d been up all night drinking spirits and smoking cigars.

“You sound rough,” she said, her voice flat, but not quite as sharp as before. “Was it the wine?”

There was a low chuckle on the end of the line, and she felt a bit silly. She had meant to be a touch insulting but it appeared to be water off a duck
’
s back. “Not the wine. I did some work after you went to bed and the pillows here are terrible.”

Erica didn
’
t believe that for one minute. Their every wish was an instant command in this place and if he
’
d wanted different pillows, it was a certainty that they would be found even if it did mean a trip into Harrods, central London, to fetch them. “
Poor petal,
” she said. “Get the housekeeper to bring you up some pain relief. Or some more wine.”

“Funny.” His voice became firmer. “Listen, there
’
s an earlier flight slot come free and we
’
re taking it. We leave in an hour so don
’
t worry about packing just get some breakfast and get dressed with anything you need for the journey, which is under four hours. Everything else will be done for you.”

She hated being herded up like this and being told what to do. It made her feel belligerent. “But I
’
ve not decided on my dress.”

“Jeans are fine for traveling so don
’
t worry.
”

Stupid man. “I meant my wedding dress. Presumably it
’
s on the dirty great rail of clothes that your minions dragged into my suite yesterday?”

There was a brief but awkward silence punctuated only by Nick
’
s increasingly loud wails. “Do you really need to decide on that before we reach Gibraltar? It
’
s not that important.”

Erica was getting really stressed and annoyed now, sandwiched between two demanding and unreasonable males. “Well, it might be to me. Have you considered that? If jeans aren
’
t good enough for a curry and chips dinner, then—”

“Point taken. The clothes selected for you yesterday, there were some options or at least I asked that there should be. Did you go through them all?”

She was beyond irritated now that he had cut her off in mid-sentence on top of all the other things that were irritating her. “Actually, no, I didn
’
t! Have you any idea what kind of day it was for me and Nick yesterday?”

“I know it must have been hard.”

Erica held the phone out so that Nick
’
s screams could blast Tito
’
s ears as well as hers and then put the mouthpiece back nearer her lips. Her voice sounded defeated when she spoke. “I had planned to take him for a swim this morning as a treat for both of us.”

There was a moment
’
s silence, and she hoped he felt just a little bit guilty in his rush to get everything organized.

“I will postpone the flight.”

And by uttering those words he had now very skillfully transferred any guilt he had felt onto her. Oh no, she wasn
’
t having that. “No, it
’
s okay. It was just—”

“Once we are married and in Crete you can both swim all day, every day. I promise.”

God, was he actually trying to be nice? “Swear to God and hope to die?”

“If that
’
s what you want.” She heard a small cough. “But I
’
m not so sure I believe in God anyway.”

Nick started to scream really loudly. “Okay, we
’
ll be ready in an hour, but Nick has never flown before so there could be more than the usual turbulence to worry about.”

“Believe it or not I can actually hear him,” he said and she could swear he was smiling by the subtle change in his voice. “I
’
ll inform the pilot and crew.”

“It
’
ll be a bit late for that when we
’
re actually boarding, but nice thought.”

“It
’
s a private jet so they do what I want when I want it. Don
’
t worry.
”

Of course how dim of her; a private jet, naturally. She rolled her eyes. “Perfect.”

“Your nannies, they are on the flight list also. You seem to get on well. Do they come too?”

The question caught her by surprise. “Can they do that? Just drop everything and come with us?”

“Of course, that
’
s what they are paid for. No families, no ties, and completely flexible.”

“And very well paid, I imagine?”

She heard him laugh softly, and her tummy felt soft and wobbly again. “What do you think?” he murmured in a honey-coated tone.

“Nice work if you can get it.”

“They
’
ve put in years of work and have more experience in childcare than either of us. They never complain and are one hundred percent discreet.”

Two of them must be costing a small fortune, she realized. “Nick has taken to both of them, which makes me feel a bit redundant, to be honest.”

“Nick will benefit from a mother who gets more than four hours sleep a night and eats at least three decent meals. Think of all the swimming you can both do and when he
’
s older, perhaps some horse riding. Lots of exciting things.”

She smiled and sighed. Tito Makris knew her weakness was her little boy; she didn
’
t stand a chance. “Okay, the nannies come too. See you in an hour.”

“
I
don’
t want to do that again any time soon!” Erica ran the back of her hand over her forehead as she pushed Nick in a fold up buggy through Gibraltar airport and glared at Tito.

“It was a rough flight all round,” Tito said and hitched Nick
’
s bag over one broad shoulder. “It will get easier for him.”

“I
’
m shattered, the nannies are shattered. God! How can one tiny scrap of male humanity be such hard work?”

“Practice and breeding,” he said with a grin that he directed to near distance. “It was probably his ears due to the cabin pressure.”

“Yes, I do know. He sucked on just about everything that wasn
’
t strapped down. Including the prenup you got me to sign.”

“There were only a few stains. It
’
s still legally binding.”

“Great, well that
’
s okay, then.” She blinked in the bright sunshine which radiated back from the pale concrete at their feet. The sky was a clear blue and it was a world away from the gray drizzle they had left behind in England. “But he really, really didn
’
t enjoy your private jet.”

“Ground crew will clear up the mess.” His tone was matter of fact as they reached the fresh air outside, and he looked around them, presumably for their transfer.

“
Poor sods,
” she muttered. “It
’
s going to take some time and a lot of air freshener.”

“Again, they are paid well enough. Not to worry.”

She squinted in the bright sunshine. “Better than a pole dancer?”

“Every possibility.”

Erica sighed.
“I
’
ve been a schmuck, haven
’
t I? There were so many ways I could have made enough money to survive on.”

“Not with a baby, not without support. You did okay.”

“You think? If I hadn
’
t been a pole dancer, the Frangos people might have accepted me without being legally bound to Mr. Wonderful Makris of Crete.”

He frowned, but was still scouring the taxi ranks for something. “You shouldn
’
t be so hard on yourself. You did what you had to, and it
’
s over now but we have to deal with a situation where neither of us has complete control. I don
’
t like it either, but there you go.”

Of course, it hadn
’
t occurred to her that he didn
’
t want to marry her any more than she wanted to marry him. And it was kind of rude of him to say so even though he was probably just as irritable as she was at that moment. “Nothing is over yet. I
’
ve not signed the wedding register. I—I could turn right round and head back to England.”

He spun round and his expression was as hard as granite. “I
’
m tired of this, Erica. Decide what you want, or at least what you
’
re going to do in the next few minutes because I
’
m exhausted with all this. I
’
m no ogre, and I
’
m offering you the moon on a stick so what the hell is your problem?”

It was as if she had been blasted by a momentary hurricane. He had almost lost his cool there for a second and it had taken her aback. “I
’
ve lost my independence and it makes me feel like crap.”

“Have you? In what way?”

“My course, I had to give it up. No way could I continue in the circumstances, it would be impossible.”

“And? Does that mean you can
’
t enroll somewhere else, somewhere even better? At my expense, naturally.”

“I could?”

He put one hand through his hair and then let it fall to his side. “Yes, if that
’
s what you want.”

“Oh.”

“What else is holding you back? Come on, let
’
s have it. Or I can get the jet to take you straight back to your hellhole in London before it
’
s even been cleaned. No charge.” He bit down on his bottom lip. She didn
’
t think she
’
d ever seen this Greek look so hot and bothered. “I can
’
t keep fighting you, Erica. There is going to be enough trouble when we get to Crete as it is. So what is it to be? My way? Or no way?”

Erica felt her eyes prickle and looked down as shame rose within her. Nick had now had the audacity to fall asleep after his ructions on the plane. “Your way,” she mumbled and then looked back up to see the muscles of his jaw were less tight.

“Thank God for that.”

“But only up to the moment we
’
re married. From there on in we
’
re equal. I won
’
t be your good little Greek wife. I want a say in everything that happens. This may not be a genuine marriage we
’
re contemplating, but it
’
s due to last for some time and I can
’
t be a doormat. It would end in murder, I promise you.”