Clare Connelly - Bride Behind The Billion-Dollar Veil

Besides, Leonidas was right—Kosta had all but drawn a map for Thanos as to how he could succeed in the purchase.

Settle down. Stop being so wild. At least appear to have become a family man.

So perhaps his brother had a point.

Marriage.

He might hate the idea of getting married, but a wedding like this—with each partner knowing it was purely mercenary? If he was clear on that point from the outset?

If there was an escape route always within reach?

So that no matter what happened he would know there was a definite termination point established, a date when the marriage would end and his life could go back to normal?

Perhaps that kind of marriage wouldn’t be so bad. A marriage, in name only. But to whom?

Alice disconnected the call with wobbly fingers and stared at her office wall. Tears that she rarely allowed herself to give into cloyed at her throat, so she had to press the heel of her palm to her eyes to stop from crying.

Bankruptcy.

The word hung in the air like a thousand little arrows, pointed at her soul. How could it have come to this? No matter how hard she worked, she could never get ahead, and now her credit-card company was demanding she close her accounts, settling her debts in full, or they’d commence bankruptcy proceedings.

She clamped her teeth down on her lip, trying to stave off an actual sob, trying to see some kind of light, somewhere, at the end of this tunnel. There had to be something she could sell, something she could do.

Except, there wasn’t. She’d hawked everything of value over the years, reluctantly parting with anything they could make money from, including the diamond earrings her mother had loved so much—a gift from Alice’s father, when they’d first met.

She hadn’t been able to go to college, she couldn’t get a job that paid more than this one, and no reputable bank would touch her with a barge pole in terms of a loan. She knew what her credit rating was.

She let out a guttural noise of impatience and stood, pacing across the office, nausea tightening her stomach. There had to be something .

A single tear slid from one of her eyes, rolling down her cheek, and at that exact moment Thanos Stathakis appeared in the door frame of his office, looking out at her, his expression as forbidding and handsome as it had been the day before.

He opened his mouth to speak, then saw her expression and closed it. His eyes roamed her face quite freely, and Alice stood completely still, so overwhelmed that she didn’t even think to wipe away her tear.

‘Did you need something?’ Her voice was a little wobbly, but there was pride in her question, because she wasn’t going to let things get any worse by acting unprofessionally.

His lips tugged downwards at the corner. ‘Yes. Come in.’ He waved a hand in the direction of his office and Alice sucked in a breath, moving quickly to her desk and sliding her credit-card statement under her keyboard before doing as he’d said and stepping into his massive workspace.

‘Please, have a seat.’ He gestured to the boardroom table.

She shook her head. Alice didn’t feel like sitting down.

‘You’re upset?’

She blinked, shaking her head, lifting her fingers to her cheeks now and wiping her tears. ‘No,’ she lied—badly. ‘I’m fine. What did you need?’

His eyes narrowed but he turned away from her, apparently accepting her statement, pouring a cool glass of water and carrying it across the room. When he passed it to her, their fingers brushed and a jolt of electricity travelled the length of Alice’s arm, burning brightly into her chest cavity.

‘You may feel better if you speak about what is troubling you,’ he invited.

Alice’s eyes flew wide, this kindness completely unexpected. ‘I… It’s my problem,’ she demurred.

Thanos nodded slowly, assimilating this information. ‘And you like to solve your problems yourself,’ he surmised.

Alice nodded. ‘As, I think, do you.’

His smile lacked humour; in fact, his smile had the look of someone who’d almost forgotten how. ‘Wherever possible, certainly.’ He crossed his arms over his broad chest, a gesture that drew her attention to his muscled abdomen in a way that sparked heat in her cheeks.

‘But you’re inviting me to pour my heart out to you?’ she prompted, to which he pulled a face, as if it was actually the last thing he’d been expecting. Alice laughed, despite her enormous worries.

‘I’m saying… I don’t like tears.’ The words were uneasy. ‘If talking would help…’

Her heart lurched a little inside her chest. Alice didn’t want to think about how long it had been since she’d had anyone she could speak to. It felt like an eternity.

‘It’s hard to explain,’ she said, sipping the water with hands that were still unsteady.

He was quiet. Watchful. Some might have said calculating, but Alice didn’t know Thanos well enough to see that glint in his eye, nor was she looking for it. She paced towards the boardroom table, placing her water down, her eyes focussed on the stunning view of Manhattan. Somehow, it was easier to speak without looking at him.

‘It’s my mom,’ she said, shaking her head, because that wasn’t, strictly speaking, the truth. ‘I mean, it is and it isn’t. She’s…not well. And looking after her is hard, and expensive, and it’s been years now, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get on top of it, and I have no idea what to do or how I can make this any easier.’ She ground her teeth together, but it didn’t help; a sob bubbled up and out of her chest. She looked at him apologetically. ‘I’m never like this at work, I swear.’

‘I know that.’ His voice was carefully blanked of emotion.

‘I mean, I work really hard, because I can’t risk getting a bad reference, because I need the next job, and at the moment I’m one of the top-rated temps at the agency, so I work hard to make sure I don’t lose that.’

Thanos considered this. ‘Would permanent employment not suit you better? You’d get a steadier salary.’

‘True.’ Alice nodded. ‘But the pay is way less, and I need some flexibility. There are times when I have to be off work for two or three weeks to help with mom, and if I’m a temp, that’s a lot easier to arrange.’

‘So you support your mother?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘She had a stroke. She’s in a coma. I can’t afford a bed in a home so she lives with me, and the cost of home nursing—which she needs through the day—is astronomical. I’m basically working to cover her medical bills and then there’s food and rent and…’ A tear slid down her cheek. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’ He surprised her then, pulling a tissue from the drawer of his desk and striding across to her. Instead of handing the tissue to her, he dabbed at her cheeks. It was a gesture of such kindness that it somehow made her feel worse, rather than better.

She wasn’t used to anyone helping her. Listening to her. And it was as if a crack had formed into which she wanted to pour all her grief, all her worries. But he was her boss, and this was a job, and she’d already created a bad enough impression without making it worse.

‘Thank you.’ She spoke firmly, taking a step back, away from him, away from sympathy. ‘I don’t know what came over me. It’s just been one of those days.’

She lifted the water glass from the table, intending to take it to the kitchen to wash it, but he put a hand on her wrist, stilling her. Only it didn’t still all of her. Alice’s blood thundered at the light, innocent touch.