ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance (57 page)

“Well, I might be, yes, but he’s oddly territorial about his work. He doesn’t like to share it with anyone.” And that was a flat out lie. What Nick Katsaros had told his son was: “You’re a smart boy, Simon, but you’re not willing to apply yourself to any work I give you, so it’s best if you don’t try right now. We can revisit this in the future.” Simon had been both relieved and mildly insulted.

“How odd.”

“It’s an odd family. But then you know that, don’t you?”

“Our fathers are business associates, and our parents are in the same social circle. That doesn’t mean I really know much about you or your family.”

“Except what you read in the gossip rags.”

“I don’t read gossip rags!” she protested, realizing belatedly that he’d put her on the defensive. “My mother leaves them around hoping I’ll read them and be consumed by the desire to marry you and have a lot of babies.”

“And it’s not working?”

“Not really.”

“Pity. We’d have made some pretty children.” That was the truth, she thought. She knew she was pretty, and he was stunning… she would have liked to see what their offspring would look like. It made her unaccountably wistful just thinking about it.

The dance ended and Simon escorted her back to her table where Paul was staring at his cell phone.

“Is this your date?” Simon asked.

“Yes. Paul, this is Simon Katsaros. Simon, Paul Andrews.”

The men shook hands, though Paul did so without much enthusiasm. “Simon’s father is a business associate of my father’s,” she explained.

“And we’re also distant cousins, but that’s not really a thing since I think virtually everyone in Greece is related to everyone else.” Simon was going for a laugh, but Paul didn’t get it. He wasn’t Greek. “Okay. Well, I leave you in good hands. I’m going off to dance with some other spinsters as befits my role as a groom’s man.”

He disappeared into the swirl of dancers and Eirene heard Paul make a disgusted noise. “What?”

“I can’t abide useless types like that.”

Before she’d met Simon and danced with him, she’d have said much the same thing. In fact, Eirene still thought Simon was rather useless, but hearing that same sentiment from Paul, with his expression of sullen superiority put her back up a little.

“He’s a businessman, Paul. You may not appreciate that, but he’s not useless.” And that was sharper than she’d intended. She drained the wine in her glass and refilled it.

“You’re having another glass of wine?” he asked. Was he determined to irritate her?

“I’m going to have all the wine I want, thank you very much. It’s a wedding and I’m having a good time.”

“It’s just… well, you know how you get, Eirene.”

She drained her glass and refilled it a second time. “No, Paul, tell me how I get.” He’d been such a pill about this wedding right from the get-go, and now he was determined to ruin it for her. She wasn’t going to have that.

“Never mind,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You’re goddamn right, never mind,” she snapped, feeling a bit light-headed as the wine began to do its work.

“There, see? The language.”

“Oh my God, Paul, when did you turn into a prissy old maid?” she asked. But she already knew the answer. He’d always been one. Paul was so uptight that mutual friends had been known to joke about having the pole surgically removed from his ass before they got married.

“I think I’m going to go sit outside until you come to your senses,” he said and left the table. Eirene marched over to the bar and ordered a brandy.

“Well if you’ve moved the party over here, I’m with you.” It was Simon, standing at her elbow. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the bartender.

She found she was a little irritated by Simon, too, but not nearly so much as by Paul, so she managed a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“What’s up? Where’s Mr. I-Disapprove?”

She nearly snorted the brandy out her nose. “Is that what you thought of him?”

“Due respect to you and your taste in men, but I can’t help but feel he must have some redeeming quality that’s invisible to the rest of us.”

“He has a huge cock,” Eirene blurted, and discovered that Simon could blush.

“Well, uh… I think that about covers it,” he managed, and took a bracing sip of his brandy.

“I’m just kidding. He doesn’t.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sorry for your sake.”

“Oh God,” she said and started to cry. Simon took her by the elbow and steered her out of the reception, and down the hall to a little alcove with a bench. “Sit down, now, and cry all you want. I’m not going to tell anyone.” He handed her a handkerchief.

Eirene took it, blew her nose and said, “I don’t know what I see in him. We have similar interests, but we’re so different!”

“Similar interests make for good friends sometimes, but partners? It’s usually not enough.”

Eirene drank down her glass of brandy, noting Simon’s look of alarm. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

“Okay, how about we go down to the lobby bar and have a cup of coffee together?”

“Or a drink.”

“Or a drink,” he said without much enthusiasm.

“Spoil sport,” she said, but she was thinking of Paul when she said it. “Race you!” She hitched her skirt up to her knees and flew down the hallway with Simon coming up the rear.

She woke with a foul headache and a taste in her mouth that reminded her of the bottom of her parents’ canary cage. What the hell had happened at the wedding? She opened her eyes. And where the hell was she? In a panic she looked around and saw Simon stretched out on the chaise, eyes closed, a shaft of sunlight falling on him. He looked like a young god, and for a moment she wished with all her heart that their so-called engagement was a real thing, and not just a product of their parents’ wishful thinking.

And then she realized that she was lying in a hotel bed, in her underwear. “Oh God,” she muttered.

Simon must not have been asleep because he heard her and his eyes opened. “Morning. How you feeling?”

“Like hammered shit,” she admitted.

“I tried to get you to drink a lot of water last night before you went out, but you kept spitting it at me and yelling about how you were a sea urchin.”

Eirene cringed. Yeah, that’s what Paul had meant when he’d said, “you know how you get.”

“For the record, Simon, did we—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, though.”

“Ah, no. You were very out of it and there are rules about that. I did undress you and put you to bed though.”

“Why?”

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted your family or boyfriend to see you like that. I mean, rare form and all, and I enjoyed it, but I thought I’d err on the side of caution.”

“Thank you. Oh, my head.” She clutched at it.

“Let me get you some water and aspirin.”

She eased herself up onto her feet and groaned. She hadn’t felt this rough since that week she’d spent in Rome with some friends, the semester before she met Paul. Maybe there really was some value to hanging out with a prissy old maid. Oh God, had she really called him that to his face?

“Here.” He gave her a handful of aspirin and a glass of water. “Finish the water. You’re dehydrated.”

“You know a lot about hangovers, huh?” Eirene tossed down the aspirin and drained the water.

“Comes with the territory.”

“I have to go.”

“Whoa, calm down. Your family thinks we drove out to Rafina to watch the sunrise and have breakfast. They were thrilled. Let’s not ruin their fun so soon. We’ll get some breakfast in, you’ll start to feel better, and then you can go home, say you’re exhausted and go to bed. Everyone wins.”

“You always have an angle?”

“No angle here, Eirene. I just saw a train wreck waiting to happen and pulled the switch. I’ll drive you home as soon as you stop looking like you angered the gods. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

She didn’t feel like one, but figured it was a good idea and went off to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, and felt stupid doing it. He hadn’t taken advantage of her when she was out cold, so why did she think he’d molest her in the shower?

The shower stall had a tiled seat, for which she was incredibly grateful. She sank down onto it and let the water from the multiple jets wash away the sticky haze of alcohol that seemed to be clinging to her skin. Had they really done ouzo shots in the bar? It also washed away some of the cobwebs, and she began to think more clearly, cringing to remember all she’d done. She really shouldn’t drink.

As the discomfort ebbed, Eirene began to feel grateful to Simon. Gallantry was not a quality that she’d associated with him, but he’d proved to be more gallant than Paul who had walked out on her in disgust over a couple of glasses of wine. She didn’t blame him for making a fool of herself, but he certainly hadn’t helped.

She finished her shower and came out, wearing one of the fluffy white robes the hotel provided, her dark hair wrapped in a towel.

“You look miles better,” Simon told her. “Breakfast just arrived. Come and sit down.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t know me.”

As he pulled her chair out he said, “You remind me of my sister, Athena. I’d hope that someone would be good to her if she made a misstep.”

Misstep. That was a nice way of saying that Eirene had fucked up hugely.

“Will your boyfriend give you grief about this?”

She sighed. “I doubt I still have a boyfriend after last night.”

“He didn’t see you as far as I know. Nobody did.”

She felt weak with relief, but then a new and surprising thought occurred to her, that she’d lost the chance to have Paul break with her.

“You don’t look happy. Anything I can do?” he asked as she sipped the hot, bracing coffee and prayed for the caffeine to do its work quickly.

“No.”

“Were you hoping he’d see you?”

“Let’s not talk about this.”

They ate in silence until Simon said, “Eirene, if you don’t want him anymore, then cut him loose.”

“The way you do with your women? No thank you, I’m no that callous.” That hadn’t come out the way she’d meant it to. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine. Yes, I can be callous. Marmalade?”

“I really am sorry,” she repeated.

“Let’s not talk about this,” he said, throwing her words back at her.

It was all confusion. Everything Eirene had thought was true about her life had been thrown into disarray in one night. Simon Katsaros had been a true gentleman to her, protecting her from the consequences of her silly, reactive behavior instead of taking advantage of it. But Paul, the man she’d thought seriously about spending the rest of her life with, had treated her as if she was a wayward child. Not only had he walked out of the wedding — and Eirene realized now that he had just been looking for an excuse to leave, a way to justify himself — but late the next day, he’d phoned to tell her how upset he’d been that she’d behaved so provocatively with a vacuous rich boy like Simon, and had chosen to indulge in behavior that had caused problems between them in the past, i.e., drinking too much. And she’d picked a fight with him, he added. When he was being nice enough to escort her to a wedding he hadn’t wanted to attend.

The sheer unfairness of his accusations left Eirene speechless. “You’re unbelievable, Paul. First, dancing with someone other than you is not behaving provocatively, all right? I was not spinning around on a pole in front of him, wearing pasties and a g-string.”

“Oh my God, Eirene—”

“And my drinking is not your damn business.” That one took some effort, she had to admit. She knew that she often behaved badly when she drank. It was fair that Paul didn’t like it and said so, but she was not willing to give an inch that afternoon. “And finally, you were the one who picked the fight and then walked out of the wedding, leaving me without an escort.”

“I imagine you found a protector pretty quickly.” The way he said “protector” made his meaning crystal clear.

“You’re being utterly offensive, Paul. I hope you realize that.”

“Telling the truth shouldn’t be construed as offense, Eirene, unless the offended party has something about which she feels guilty.”

She counted to ten. Then she did it again. Then she thought “Oh to hell with it!” and said, “Paul, you’re an asshole, you know that?”

Miracle of miracles, that seemed to shut him up, at least for a few seconds. When he responded, he was ice cold. “I think possibly we need to take a break,” he told her, and Eirene realized that she felt nothing but relief.

“I think that’s a good idea, Paul. But let’s make it a permanent one.”

His tone changed quickly. “It wasn’t my intention… Eirene, I didn’t mean I wanted to break up with you.”

“But that’s what I mean,” she told him. I think it’s for the best. This isn’t working for either of us.”

“But—”

“No hard feelings, Paul. It just wasn’t meant to be.” She stopped short of the “It’s not you, it’s me” line because it really was him. She hadn’t really understood how tiresome Paul was until she met Simon, who had treated her more considerately than Paul ever had.

When she went downstairs, her mother greeted her with a knowing look.

“No, just stop, Mom. It was nothing. Just breakfast.”

“He’s a good boy,” her mother observed.

Simon got back home in time to say good-bye to Athena who was headed back to London. He drove her out to the airstrip and on the way she asked him what was up with Eirene.

“It’s just what I told you. She had a fight with her boyfriend, so we went down to the bar and had a couple of drinks, and then went for a drive.”

“You drove drunk?” Athena was horrified.

“I was drinking club soda. I figured she’d need some moral support, so I was careful.”

“Okay. I approve.”

“What a relief,” he teased.

“So is there something there?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because while you’re a good guy, you don’t often put that much effort into people you barely know.”

“Barely know? We were formally engaged at birth.”

“No you weren’t!”

Actually it was when we were teenagers, and it wasn’t formal, it was just the families saying, “Wow, those two crazy kids belong together.””