Читать книгу The Greek's Convenient Wife - Melanie Milburne, Melanie Milburne - Страница 7

THE telephone rang just as Maddison was going through her wardrobe in preparation for the following evening. She absentmindedly reached down to answer the bedroom extension as she dangled a pair of bright red fishnets from one hand.

‘Maddison?’ Kyle’s voice sounded out after the long-distance pips. ‘Is that you?’

‘Kyle!’ She tossed the stockings to one side as she sat on the bed. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m sunburnt, saddle-sore and constantly starving, but I’m fine.’

‘Aren’t they feeding you properly?’

‘Of course they are, but I’ve never been so active before. You’d never believe what I can put away.’

‘I can believe it.’ Her tone was dry. She’d been paying the grocery bills for months and suffered no illusions about her brother’s capacity for consuming food. ‘Are you enjoying the work?’

‘I hate to admit it, but yes I am.’ His tone was sheepish. ‘I like the outdoor life, Maddy, and the Marquis family is great. I think I could really stick it out in the bush, maybe work the circuit a bit until I get some money behind me.’

Maddison could barely believe what she was hearing. Her restless younger brother hadn’t stuck at a job for more than a day or two and here he was declaring his intention of staying in the outback for months. It made the sacrifice she was about to make marginally more worthwhile, in spite of her reservations about Demetrius Papasakis.

‘I need to tell you something,’ she began uncertainly. ‘It’s about Mr Papasakis.’

There was a tiny silence at the other end.

‘What about him?’

‘He knows you sank his boat.’

There was a telling silence for five heartbeats.

‘But he doesn’t know where I am, right?’

‘No, but he’s not really all that interested in where you are at present. He has other fish to fry.’

‘You mean he’s not going to come after me and press charges?’ Relief had crept into Kyle’s voice.

‘Not unless things don’t go according to plan.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s made a sort of pact with me on your behalf.’

‘What sort of pact?’

‘He’s not going to press charges as long as I do what he says for a period of a few months.’

‘He’s blackmailing you?’

Maddison heard the unmistakable convulsive swallow in his throat. ‘You could call it that.’

‘Oh my God; it’s all my fault.’ It was the first time she had heard any sort of remorse in her brother’s voice and a part of her had to admit that perhaps some good might eventually come out of this bizarre arrangement.

‘Don’t worry,’ she reassured him. ‘I’ve got it in hand; I know how to deal with someone like Demetrius Papasakis.’

‘What does he want you to do?’

‘He wants me to marry him.’

‘Marry him?’ he gasped incredulously. ‘Whatever for?’

A remnant of feminine pique niggled at her at his surprise that anyone, even a playboy like Demetrius Papasakis, would express any desire to tie himself to her.

‘As far as I’m aware I haven’t cracked any mirrors lately,’ she said somewhat tartly.

‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ Kyle was instantly apologetic. ‘I mean why would he want to marry at all? He’s not the marrying type.’

‘He needs a smokescreen relationship,’ she informed him. ‘Or so he told me. I’m to be the happy wife at home to provide him with a suitable alibi while he cavorts with whoever he likes.’

‘And you’re OK with that?’

‘I don’t have any choice. When you sank that boat my freedom went with it to the bottom of the harbour.’

‘I’m so sorry, Maddy. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll work hard and get us a place out here in the country where he can’t find us.’

‘I’m not going to run away from someone like Demetrius Papasakis,’ she said determinedly. ‘I’m going to stay and fight it out.’

‘You’re awesome, sis, do you know that?’

Maddison smiled at the admiration in her brother’s tone.

‘You ain’t seen nothing yet, bro,’ she said. ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet.’

At six-thirty the following evening Maddison stood in front of the full length mirror behind her bedroom door and inspected her ensemble.

She’d rummaged through her wardrobe for the outfit she’d worn to a friend’s Pimps and Prostitutes Ball a couple of years ago. The short tight black PVC skirt and over the knee black boots with the garish fishnets were a perfect foil for the three sizes too small skimpy black top which was being somewhat overshadowed by the magnificent efforts of her lacy push-up bra.

Her make-up was the final touch—bright red lipstick, smudged of course, and heavy electric-blue eye-shadow and thick kohl pencil around her eyes giving her a distinctly raccoon-like look.

She gave herself a wicked grin; she looked like an absolute tart.

The doorbell rang at seven on the dot and, ignoring the slight flutter of last-minute nerves, she tottered over the threadbare carpet to answer it.

Demetrius didn’t even flinch when he saw her.

‘Ready?’

With the wind definitely taken out of her sails she had no choice but to nod her assent and follow him out to the car.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked once they were in the sleek black Jaguar.

‘I thought I might surprise you,’ he said, backing out of the car parking space.

She pursed her painted lips and wondered if she’d exactly been wise in trying to get the upper hand. She was beginning to suspect he was a whole lot more ruthless than she’d first allowed.

Her instincts had been right, she decided a short while later, when he parked in the main drag of the red light district of Kings Cross.

She gave him a nervous glance as he turned off the engine but his expression gave nothing away. She watched as he came around the bonnet of the car to open her door, his tall figure so striking in dark shirt and trousers that her stomach gave a funny flip flop as her door opened under his hand. She slid out with as much grace as her impossibly high heels allowed and stood uncertainly on the pavement, suddenly very conscious of the speculative looks she was receiving from the various passers-by.

‘There aren’t any nice restaurants along here,’ she said as he took her elbow to lead her down the street.

‘I know.’

She stumbled over a broken bit of pavement and his hold tightened.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘In here.’

He shepherded her into a seedy looking nightclub whose promotional signs promised scantily clad pole and lap dancers around the clock. Maddison felt the heat storm her cheeks as he propelled her to a table right up the front, her eyes instantly darting away from the buxom blonde cavorting with the slippery pole right near her chair.

‘What would you like to drink?’ Demetrius asked.

She swivelled in her seat to avoid the sight of a pair of breasts that without a doubt defied natural genetic construction.

‘Anything,’ she choked out.

The sleazy drinks waiter approached and, giving Maddison the once-over, asked for their order. She sat in a miserable silence as Demetrius asked for two champagne cocktails, her embarrassment increasing with every gyration of the dancer who seemed to be making a direct beeline for their table.

‘How was your day?’ Demetrius asked, leaning back in his chair.

‘Fine.’

The dancer had quite clearly decided the most attractive man in the house was Demetrius, and she sidled up to trail a hand through his dark curly hair, shooting Maddison a challenging glance from beneath her fluttering, seductive lashes.

A seed of anger sprouted in her chest at how he’d swiftly turned the tables on her.

‘This is a nice place,’ she said perversely, taking a generous slug of her drink while trying to ignore the dancer’s thigh, which was draped across Demetrius’s knee.

‘Yes, I thought you might feel right at home here,’ he said, reaching for his drink.

‘Do you come here often?’ she asked.

‘Not if I can help it.’ He gave the dancer a sexy smile.

She could feel her blood boiling at his deliberate attempt to embarrass her and took another deep swig of her drink.

‘Do they serve food here?’ she asked once the dancer had moved on. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Finish your drink and I’ll take you to Otto at Woolloomooloo Bay.’

It was impossible to think of a worse punishment, she decided, than to be taken to one of Sydney’s premier restaurants dressed like a streetwalker. She had to admit that she’d seriously underestimated Demetrius Papasakis and quite clearly, for this evening at least, he’d claimed not only the last word but the last laugh as well.

She got to her feet and followed him out of the nightclub with as much dignity as she could muster, but she knew the worst was probably still ahead of her.

It was.

The fine dining Otto offered in the refurbished wharf buildings at Woolloomooloo Bay was surpassed only by the elegant service and up-market clientele.

Maddison wished the floor would open up and let her sink to the harbour floor beneath, but it seemed Demetrius was after his pound of flesh and would stop at nothing to get it.

She was immediately conscious of the interested glances coming their way as they were led to their table, her embarrassment increasing a hundredfold to hear Demetrius addressed by name.

‘Mr Papasakis, would you like to see the wine list?’

Demetrius leaned back as his napkin was laid across his lap.

‘Don’t bother,’ he said. ‘Just bring us the best champagne of the house. We’re celebrating.’

The waiter had obviously been taught well for he didn’t even raise a brow. ‘Congratulations, Mr Papasakis,’ he said. ‘May I ask what the occasion is?’

‘I’m getting married,’ he said and smiled across at Maddison.

Maddison gave the waiter a wan smile and buried her head back in the menu.

‘My hearty congratulations, sir. I hope you’ll be very happy.’

Demetrius returned the waiter’s smile with a self-satisfied one of his own. ‘I intend to be very happy,’ he said. ‘Very happy indeed.’

Maddison waited until the waiter was out of earshot before she hissed across the table at him. ‘Are you crazy? That man thinks you’re marrying a prostitute! It will be all over the papers tomorrow.’

He leaned back in his chair and studied her in a leisurely manner. ‘Isn’t that what you intended?’

‘No,’ she snapped. ‘I wanted to teach you a lesson, that’s all.’

‘You’d do well to acknowledge before we go any further with our agreement that I don’t take very kindly to being taught lessons. I left the school room a long time ago.’

‘You still have a lot to learn,’ she bit out.

‘Please enlighten me on the things I’ve neglected to take on board.’

She hurled him a fiery look as she tore her bread into fragments. ‘For a start, I don’t like being told what to do as if I have no will of my own.’

‘Regrettable as that is, I’m the one who has just lost an expensive yacht. Your determination to keep your brother’s whereabouts a secret has backfired on you big time. You have only to reveal his details and I will call off the wedding immediately.’

Maddison stared at the crumbs of bread on her plate, her stomach caving in at the thought of revealing Kyle’s current address. Could she do it? Could she save her own skin by letting her brother face the music Demetrius Papasakis was intent on personally conducting?

She lifted her gaze to his, defiance in every feature of her expressive face. ‘I will never reveal my brother’s whereabouts, even if you try and force it out of me.’

He reached for his glass, his eyes as they speared hers dark and dangerous. ‘Don’t tempt me, Maddison.’

She lowered her gaze to the starched white tablecloth in front of her, her heart thumping erratically in her chest at his implied threat.

The waiter reappeared at their table with a bottle of French champagne, expertly pouring it into the two glasses before leaving them once more to continue their perusal of the extensive menu.

Demetrius picked up his champagne flute and held it up in a toast. ‘Here’s to us.’ His near black eyes glinted with some indefinable quality that made her stomach tighten another sharp little notch.

She picked up her own glass and chinked it against his. ‘Here’s to my big fat Greek wedding,’ she quipped before drinking deeply.

A flicker of amusement passed over his face as he watched her silently. He hadn’t thought he would enjoy her company as much as he had; she had a sharp wit and her flashing sapphire-blue eyes were bright with intelligence. He wondered how far she would go before she cracked under the pressure of keeping her brother’s whereabouts secret. He hadn’t really thought she’d agree to his proposal; in fact he still expected her to pull the plug at the last minute. It amused him to see her squirm, torn between her loyalty towards Kyle and her own freedom, but business was business and he could hardly overlook one point five million dollars.

And, besides, he had to do something about the fuss the press was making. The constant intrusion into his personal affairs was becoming increasingly tiresome; hardly a day passed without his picture appearing somewhere with the usual scathing paragraph accompanying it. It was starting to affect his business reputation, which was a situation he could no longer tolerate. A temporary marriage was a stroke of genius, he congratulated himself as he took a contemplative sip of his champagne; if nothing else it would be entertaining watching Maddison Jones try to out manoeuvre him at every turn, very entertaining indeed.

Maddison felt restless under the silent scrutiny to which she was being subjected. It was bad enough having every other diner glancing pointedly her way without having to suffer the sardonic gleam in Demetrius’s eyes as well.

The waiter came over to take their order and close on his heels was a photographer. Maddison’s eyes widened in alarm as Demetrius gave the photographer the go-ahead, her fury towards him knowing no bounds as he sat back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile.

The camera flashed just as she opened her mouth to protest, which made her even more annoyed. She waited until the man had moved to the next table before she spoke.

‘I suppose you think that was funny?’ Her eyes flashed with venomous wrath.

‘What’s wrong? Don’t you like having your picture taken?’ He took another leisurely sip of his champagne.

‘Not under these sorts of circumstances,’ she hissed. ‘Besides, I had my mouth open; I’ll look like an idiot.’

The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. ‘Then perhaps you should learn to keep your very pretty mouth shut,’ he advised.

She took another piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth to stop herself from giving him the dressing down she felt bubbling up in her throat.

‘Come now, Maddison,’ he chided her gently when she’d gnawed her way through another two pieces. ‘Don’t pout; you’re supposed to be madly in love with me, remember? This is our first official date; try to look as if you’re enjoying it.’

She pushed the rest of the bread away and glared at him. ‘How am I supposed to enjoy an evening in your company? You’re the most obnoxious man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.’

‘You never know, I might greatly improve on acquaintance.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘Never say never; it’s like tempting fate.’

She gave him a caustic look from beneath her lashes. ‘You’d have to have a complete personality bypass for me to even consider changing my opinion of you.’

He laughed as he picked up his champagne glass once more, twirling the stem with his long fingers as he watched her struggle to hold on to her temper.

‘Let’s wait and see, shall we?’ He raised his glass to her and, tipping back his head, tossed the contents down his throat.

Maddison watched the up and down movement of his neck as he swallowed the liquid, her pulse suddenly feeling heavy in her veins.

She tore her eyes away and stared at the food the waiter was placing before her, wondering if she’d be able to get a single mouthful past the tight restriction in her throat. She felt as if she’d just stepped into water too deep and dangerous for her, the prospect of escape disappearing like a lifeline carried out of reach with the tide.

She felt sure Demetrius was laughing at her behind the cool façade of his too handsome face. She could see it in his eyes as they rested on her, and the way his mouth lifted up at one corner as his gaze travelled over her lazily, making her skin tighten all over with acute awareness. She didn’t want to react to him at all, but somehow whenever that brown-black gaze meshed with hers she felt as if her temperature were increasing, her heart-rate elevating and her legs weakening uncontrollably.

She picked up her fork and tasted the delicious seafood pasta dish, sneaking a covert glance his way.

‘Would you like to taste some of mine?’ He offered her a small morsel on the tip of his fork, passing it across the table to just in front of her mouth.

With the slightest hesitation she opened her mouth over his fork and took the food, her eyes locking with his as she chewed and swallowed.

‘Good?’

She nodded and picked up a forkful of her own dish, leaning across as he had done for him to taste it. His eyes burned into hers as his mouth opened over the food, drawing it into his mouth slowly, his tongue coming out to trace over his lips in a single sweep that sent her blood on a riotous passage through her veins.

She bent her head to her plate once more, forcing herself to eat every scrap in an attempt to keep her gaze from shifting in his direction.

She declined coffee and dessert, not because she didn’t want them—she did—but she could no longer trust herself to sit opposite him without betraying how much he affected her.

He settled the bill while she fidgeted uncomfortably under the interested stares of the other diners, angry with herself for wanting to score points off him but even more furious with him for rubbing her nose in it the way he had done.

He took her elbow to lead her out to where he’d parked his car just beyond the world-famous sidewalk café, Harry’s Café de Wheels. A chorus of appreciative male whistles sent the colour back to her cheeks as she went past, her head high although she knew her composure was cracking around the edges.

Demetrius held the car door open for her and she slipped under his arm, hoping he couldn’t see the bright glitter of angry tears in her eyes.

He strode around to his side and once the car had roared into life turned into the traffic.

‘I’d like you to come to my office tomorrow,’ he said as he took the turn back to the southern suburbs where she lived. ‘I have another document for you to sign.’

She gave him a worried glance. ‘More documents? But I already signed the ones you sent.’

‘I know but this one is different. At the cessation of our marriage I will be paying you a lump sum to compensate you for any inconvenience you might have suffered.’

‘I don’t want your money.’

‘No, I imagine not, now your brother has already helped himself to a considerable portion of it by destroying my yacht.’

She looked down at her hands, which were twisted in her lap. ‘You make it sound as if I deliberately encouraged him.’

‘Didn’t you?’ He slanted a quick glance her way.