Jennifer Faye - The Greek's Ready-Made Wife

Mop&Glow007 (Kyra): I’ve got a headache. I’m calling it a night. Talk tomorrow.

She kicked off her shoes and stretched her toes. It’d been a long time since she’d spent an evening in heels. She thought she’d left this kind of life back in New York.

Something told her that sleep would be a long way off. She had too much on her mind—a man with unforgettable blue eyes and a laugh that warmed her insides. How in the world was she going to stay focused on finding her family when Cristo was pulling her into his arms and passionately kissing her?

* * *

Where was she?

Cristo refilled his coffee mug for the third time that morning and took a long slow sip of the strong brew. He stared across the spacious living room toward the short hallway leading to Kyra’s bedroom. Maybe he should go check on her. He started in that direction when her door swung open. He quickly retreated back to the bar, where he made a point of topping off his coffee.

Kyra leisurely strolled into the living room wearing a neon pink, lime green and black tank top. His gaze drifted down to find a pair of black running shorts that showed off her toned legs. Maybe he should have chosen someone who was less distracting to play the part of his fiancée.

When he realized he was staring, he moved his gaze back to her face. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” She stretched, revealing the flesh of her flat stomach. Cristo swallowed hard. She yawned and then sent him a sheepish look. Her gaze swept over him from head to foot and then back again. “How long have you been awake?”

He glanced at his watch, finding it was a couple of minutes past seven. “A couple of hours.”

Her beautiful eyes widened. “You certainly don’t believe in sleeping in, do you?”

He shook his head. “Not when there’s work to be done. Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some.”

He grabbed another mug. “Do you take cream and sugar?”

“Just a couple packs of sweetener.”

“Which color do you prefer? Pink? Blue? Yellow?”

“Yellow.”

He added the sweetener and gave it a swirl. “If you want to make another pot of coffee, you’ll find all of the supplies in the cabinet.” He gestured below the coffeemaker. “Make yourself at home.”

“You won’t be here today?”

He handed over the cup. “I have some meetings in the city that I need to attend. Besides, you’ll be so busy that you’ll never notice my absence.”

“Busy? Doing what?”

“You haven’t changed your mind about our arrangement, have you?” He noticed how she fidgeted with the ring on her finger. He hadn’t been lying last night when he said it looked perfect on her. In fact, if he hadn’t made a hasty exit last night, he would have followed up their kiss with so much more than either of them was ready for at this juncture.

“No. I...I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Good. Because we made the paper.” He grabbed the newspaper from the end of the bar and handed it to her.

“We did. But how?” When she turned to the society page, she gasped.

He had to admit that he’d been a bit shocked when he’d seen the picture of them in a steamy lip-lock. He’d meant for it to look real, but he never imagined it’d be quite so steamy. Had she really melted into his arms so easily—so willingly?

And for a moment, he’d forgotten that it was all pretend. He’d wanted her so much when they’d returned to the suite that it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. Thank goodness he had the handy excuse of work waiting for him, because a few more minutes around her and his good intentions might have failed him.

“I didn’t realize it’d be in the papers.” Kyra tossed aside the paper. “This wasn’t part of our agreement. This is awful. My mother isn’t going to understand. She...she’s going to think we’re really a couple. That you and I— That we’re actually going to get married. This is a mess. What am I going to tell her? How do I explain this?”

“Calm down. You don’t have to tell her anything—”

“Of course I do. When she sees that photo, she’ll jump to the obvious conclusion. She’ll tell all of her friends. It’ll be a nightmare to straighten out.”

“No, it won’t. Trust me.” His soft tones eased her rising anxiety.

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because I made sure this photo was just for the papers here in Athens. Nothing will be printed in New York.”

Her gaze narrowed in on him. “Are you absolutely certain?”

He nodded. “I am. Trust me. I have this planned out. We may not be on the front page, but we did make a big headline in the society section. Hopefully it’ll be enough to garner Stravos’s attention.”

“Why would you think this man would look at the society section? Isn’t that geared more toward women?”

“Trust me. Nothing gets past this man, especially when he’s considering doing business with a person. I’m sure he doesn’t stay on top of everything himself, but he has plenty of money to pay people to do the research. But since Stravos is a bit of a hermit living here in Greece on an isolated estate, there’s no need for our engagement to be announced in the American papers.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”

The rigid line of her shoulders eased and she dropped down on the arm of a couch. “The next time, you might want to mention that part first.”

“Would it really be so bad if your mother thought you and I were a couple?”

Kyra immediately nodded. “You have no idea how bad it would be. Until recently, my mother had made it her life’s mission to marry me off to one of her friends’ sons.”

“And you’re opposed to getting married?”

“No.” Her voice took on a resolute tone. “What I’m opposed to is being someone’s arm decoration. I don’t want to be someone they drag out for appearances and then forget about the rest of the time.”

“I can’t believe a man could forget about you.”

There was a distinct pause. “It’s not worth talking about.”

She was one of those women Cristo tried to avoid—the ones who didn’t understand the importance of business. He didn’t want someone dictating to him when he could and couldn’t work. His email constantly needed attention. Almost every bit of correspondence was marked urgent. He didn’t want to have to choose between his work and a significant other. Because in the end, his work would win. Work was what he could count on—it wouldn’t let him down.

And he didn’t imagine there was a man alive who could ignore Kyra. Himself included. He didn’t think it was humanly possible. Her presence dominated a room with her beauty and elegance. Even he had gotten carried away the prior evening.

If he was honest with himself, the reason he avoided a serious relationship was because he could never live up to certain expectations. He’d promised himself years ago that he’d never become a father. He’d learned firsthand how precious and fleeting life could be. All it took was one flawed decision, one moment of distraction, and then tragedy strikes.

The dark memories started to crowd in, but Cristo willed them away. He wasn’t going to get caught up in the past and the weighty guilt—not now.

Kyra sighed. “My father was a workaholic. He loved us, but I think he loved his work more. My mother would never admit that. For her, he was the love of her life. But I sometimes wonder if she realizes all she missed out on.”

“So you want someone who is the exact opposite of your father?” Cristo wasn’t quite sure how that would work. What sort of man didn’t get caught up in his work?

She shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone at this point in my life. But if I were, I’d want to come first. When we’re out to dinner, I’d want his attention focused on me and our conversation, not on his phone.”