The Greek's Stolen Bride (8 page)

"Theo..."

He smiled against her mouth, gently hooking one leg behind her knees as he laid her on the bed. He pushed away from her for a moment, gazed down at her with that faint smile. Ariana blinked back at him, her heart hammering with both anticipation and nervousness.

"You are so very lovely," he murmured. He stretched out next to her, feathered kisses along her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Ariana stilled under those gentle touches, for she felt instinctively that this was an end rather than the beginning she so badly wanted it to be.

"Theo...?"

"I'd be a brute," he told her, kissing  her jawbone, "if I were to take advantage of you now. You're tired, emotional, and overwhelmed, and tomorrow is our wedding day. I can wait,
kardia mou
. So can you."

Kardia mou
. My heart. A careless endearment, yet it still made that wayward organ tremble. She didn't want to wait, even as she acknowledged that Theo was right. Everything had happened so fast, been so much. She didn't know what she felt for Theo, for their future, if they even had a real one. And yet her body throbbed and ached with unfulfilled desire, with desperate need.

Theo had been right, she
was
desperate. Desperate for him.

He started to rise from the bed and she caught his face in her hands, reveled in the feel of his stubble against her fingers.

"Don't go," she whispered and he gazed down at her, a faint frown between his eyes. "Do you mind? I want you to sleep with me.  I mean, just sleeping."

The frown smoothed out and he smiled as he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "I knew what you meant."

"Then--?"

"It will be an exercise in self-control, but yes, I will." He gestured to his still-bloody cheek. "Just let me go get cleaned up."

Ariana nodded and climbed into bed, her body thrumming with both remembrance and anticipation. A few minutes later Theo came back into the room, his face washed of blood, wearing only a pair of low-slung pajama bottoms. She swallowed dryly, unable to tear her gaze away from the broad, bronze expanse of his chest, the slim hips and powerful legs encased in loose cotton. He was beautiful, utterly and mouth-dryingly gorgeous. She turned back the covers.

Theo slid it next to her and for a moment Ariana lay there horribly rigid, unbearably awkward. She barely knew this man. Why had she asked him to spend the night with her? She'd never shared a bed before, not with anyone. How was this supposed to
work
?

Then Theo, so very easily, pulled her into his arms, fitting her back snugly against his chest, her hips cradled in his. One arm slid under breasts, the other rested on her hair. And Ariana knew why she'd asked. Lying there with her body fitting so closely and perfectly to Theo's, she knew she'd never before felt so comfortable. So safe. So loved.

No, she couldn't think about love. Could not even dream about it when she'd come this far, had freedom within her grasp. Loving a man would only provide another prison. She wanted to stay strong, independent, not weaken herself in thrall to a man. A man like Theo, who now held her in his arms, and she feared, in his power.

She felt his lips brush her hair. "Relax, Ariana," he said softly. "Go to sleep."

And with his arms still around her, she finally did.

The next morning Ariana woke to sunlight spilling in from the open windows and an empty bed. Theo had gone.

She rolled over, tried to ignore the swamping sense of desolation she felt at his absence. It shouldn't matter. It
didn't
matter.

Then she remembered, with both a jolt of panic and a shaming thrill of excitement, that today was her wedding day. She showered quickly and went through the clothes Theo's assistant had bought her, wondering bemusedly which one should serve as a wedding dress. Finally she selected a casual sundress in pale green cotton and left her hair loose.

Downstairs Theo was showered and dressed in pressed gray trousers and a silk button-down shirt in a paler gray. He sat at the table laid with pastries, yogurt, and fresh fruit, rising when he saw her.

"You look lovely."

"So do you," she answered, meaning it, and then tripped over her words to correct herself. "Not lovely, that is. I mean, you look nice." She sounded like an idiot. She felt like one.

Theo just smiled. "Thank you. Now come, eat." He poured some thick Greek coffee and Ariana sat across from him and reached for her cup.

"So when is the priest coming?"

"The lawyer is coming first, in about twenty minutes, to draw up our prenuptial agreement. Then the priest will come an hour later."

She nodded, her stomach churning with nerves. "And the prenup? What will the arrangements be?"

Theo took a sip of his coffee. "On either the annulment of our marriage or in the case of our divorce, you will receive five million euros."

Ariana choked, spluttering coffee most inelegantly. With a little smile Theo dabbed at the spills on the table with his napkin. "Five
million
...! I never..." She shook her head. "I don't care how rich you are, Theo. It's way too much."

"I disagree."

She leaned forward. "We've known each other for three days."

He arched his eyebrows. "So?"

"Why would you..." She shook her head again, helplessly. "You barely know me."

"I know you," Theo said, and he sounded so certain, so intimate, that Ariana felt a shiver of--what? Longing? Hope? Fear? All three.

She thought of his words last night:
I can wait, kardia mou. So can you.
Would they consummate the marriage tonight? Such a technical term for so intimate and incredible an experience.

For she knew, with Theo, it would be incredible.

"Don't hyperventilate," he said mildly, and her gaze flew to his face.

"I'm nervous," she admitted with a laugh and he nodded solemnly.

"So am I."

She laughed again, this time with disbelief. "You aren't."

"Marriage, no matter what the circumstances, is a big event."

No matter what the circumstances. She would do well to remember that. This marriage wasn't real. Even if they slept together, it wasn't real. They didn't love each other.

Except, Ariana thought with a sharp pang of fear, she was afraid she might be falling in love with Theo already.

Theo watched emotions flit across Ariana's face: fear, hope, excitement,
terror
. Yes, terror. He felt it too. Last night had, bizarrely, changed everything. Shaken up all his certainties and turned them in doubts.

He sipped his coffee, felt a pressure build in his chest. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea, because he didn't want to become emotionally engaged with Ariana, and yet after holding her all night long he knew he already was.

And that meant she would get hurt.

He wasn't about to fall in love. Not when he'd seen how love had controlled his father. Made his mother miserable and as for Spiro's wife--well, she couldn't have been happy, knowing he had a mistress and bastard son living in an apartment in Piraeus.

Love was messy. Disastrous. And yet as he watched Ariana pick at her breakfast he was afraid she might be falling in love with him. He should have known it could happen. Despite her strength and independence, she was innocent. She'd seen so little of life, had so little experience of a good or honest man--she was bound to feel something when the first one strolled across her path.

Except he was neither good nor honest, not really. He'd told her about his past working in a street gang, but he hadn't told her his intentions now. His complete and utter determination to ruin her father.

Guilt picked at him, and he didn't like it. He didn't want anything to interfere with his plan for revenge. Yet as Ariana glanced up at him, those silver eyes wide and rain-washed with uncertainty, he knew something already had.

Resolutely Theo pushed such thoughts--regrets--away. It was too late to wonder if he was doing the right thing. And he had spoken the truth, marrying Ariana would safeguard both their interests. Besides, five million euros was nothing to sneeze at.

And it would be worth every cent when he had taken everything away from Miles Leotokos, even the person he loved.

Just like he'd done to Theo.

The doorbell rang, and Theo smiled. "Time to get started," he said and rose from the table.

An hour later they had both signed the document that guaranteed Ariana would five million euros in six months--and not a penny more.

Theo had had his lawyer fly by helicopter from Athens, and he made sure the man--whom he trusted implicitly--explained everything in detail to Ariana. He did not want her to feel manipulated or tricked. She had a good brain, and she grasped the particulars with both ease and speed.

With the document signed, all that was left was the marriage itself. Vows to be said.

Guilt niggled once more. Marriage was a serious business. He'd told Ariana it was no more than a piece of paper and a promise, but he didn't really believe his light words. His word was his honor.

And he lost no honor in marrying her, Theo told himself. He would protect and provide for her. He'd been honest with her from the beginning about what to expect--and what not to expect.

Not quite.

He hadn't been honest about his intentions for her father. Yet Theo did not intend to reveal those now. Ariana might still possess some misplaced loyalty for her father. He did not intend to find out.

"Do you want to freshen up for the ceremony?" he asked, for when the priest had arrived, dressed all in black and with a bushy gray beard, she'd gone seriously pale.

"Yes. Thank you. I'll just be a few minutes."

She went upstairs and Theo went outside, breathed in the salty air from the sea mingled with the dusty scents of lavender and thyme. He wondered what Ariana's marriage to Dion Paranoussis would have looked like. Would she have worn a wedding dress? Would her father have given her a proper wedding? Probably, if just for a show. Miles Leotokos liked to impress.

This ceremony would seem paltry in comparison. Just the two of them, the priest, and the lawyer and Lukas for witnesses. All strangers to Ariana.

Again, the guilt.

His unfocused gaze rested on a clump of agapanthus by the terrace wall and without thinking too much about what he was doing, he picked a few for a rather raggedy bouquet.

He heard Ariana's light footsteps on the stairs, and then the sound of the glass door sliding open.

"I'm ready."

He turned and held the flowers out to her. "Every bride needs a bouquet."

"Oh--" She blinked, and for a moment he thought she might cry. He shouldn't have given her the flowers, he realized. It made her think things. Expect things he had no intention of giving.

She took them, smiling shyly. "Thank you. They're very pretty."

"I just picked them from over there," he said gruffly, gesturing to the wall. He sounded surly now, and rather like an ass. "You look lovely," he said, his voice still gruff. "Shall we marry out here?"

She nodded, and within a few minutes they'd all assembled on the terrace. Theo gazed at Ariana out of the corner of his eye, saw how tense and yet composed she looked. She was, he thought not for the first time, an amazingly resilient and strong woman. He genuinely admired her for all she'd done and endured.

Admiration could be the basis for a marriage. A real marriage.

The priest began speaking, and Theo turned the thought over in his mind. What if he stayed married to Ariana? Why not? Mutual admiration and respect was a fine foundation for a marriage. A better foundation, perhaps, than passion or love, both which faded in time.

If he stayed married to her, he could have things he'd thought denied him. A companion. Children. A happiness he'd never considered searching for.

He just wouldn't love her.

Yet would she agree?

The priest placed a crown of ivy on Ariana's head, and then on his own. Linking her slender fingers with his, Theo walked slowly in a circle three times. He'd seen an Orthodox marriage ceremony before, but he'd obviously never participated in one. Never felt the gravity of what he was doing, the power of a promise.

Whether they liked it or not, whether they meant it or not, these vows were real. This marriage was real.

And Theo was beginning to think he wanted it to stay that way.

CHAPTER EIGHT

So it was done. Ariana lifted the crown of ivy off her head and stared at it in bemusement. She hadn't actually said a word, just nodded yes. In an Orthodox ceremony, a woman didn't speak. Yet she'd still agreed. Agreed to a promise, to a marriage. To a life.

That would end in six months.

Swallowing, she twirled the crown around her fingers. The lawyer and priest had both left, along with Theo's assistant Lukas who hadn't been anything like she'd expected. Tall and broad with a nose that had been clearly broken several times and a wicked-looking scar down one cheek, he was, Ariana guessed, a friend from Theo's street gang days.