Читать книгу My Big Fake Green-Card Wedding - Mollie Molay - Страница 10

U.S. Embassy

Athens, Greece

“You are almost thirty years old, daughter. It’s time you found yourself a husband! If you don’t, I will find one for you!”

With her father’s voice echoing in her ears, Melina Kostos hung up the phone. Today wasn’t her lucky day, she thought as she stared at the run in her smoky-gray nylons. The notice advising her that her position as the U.S. embassy’s bilingual receptionist was about to be downsized wasn’t helping. Without a job, she no longer had a reason to argue away her father’s concern over her single status.

How could she tell her father that she didn’t want a husband? At least, not yet. Or that she had no intention of being Athens’s last virgin over the age of 29 if she could help it? She not only had some living to do, but no part of that plan included letting a man control her life.

What she most wanted was a green card that would allow her to go to the United States to work. The past two years at the U.S. embassy had left her with a keen interest in the country. At least there, women seemed to be free.

If only she had someone to talk to besides the two close friends she roomed with. Eleni and Arianna, who worked at the embassy with her, were also Greek natives and, in one way at least, in the same position she was: single. She wasn’t sure even they would understand the way she felt.

It would be difficult to expect anyone not from a traditional Greek family like hers to understand her father’s call, she mused as she stared at the telephone. Sure, she was almost thirty and, for all intents and purposes, on her own. Unfortunately, her age was not about to stop her father from demanding she marry and raise a family. As the only daughter in an old-fashioned Greek family, her father’s voice was still the law.

She was unhappily envisioning the kind of suitor her father had in mind when a burst of laughter caught her attention.

“We’re going up to the roof garden for lunch, Melina. Want to come with us? Melina, are you listening to me?”

Startled out of her reverie, Melina managed to smile brightly. Arianna and Eleni waited in front of her desk for her reply. “Yes, of course,” Melina answered. “I was lost in thought.”

“About what?”

She gestured to the termination notice. “I just received notice my position is being joined with Anna’s. Actually,” she added wistfully, “I was thinking how wonderful it would be if I could get a green card and go to the United States. I would like to work there for a few years before I settle down.” She went on to tell them about her father’s threatening phone call.

Arianna clucked her dismay. “There must be someone here at the embassy who could help you!”

Melina shook her head. “I don’t know anyone here well enough to ask. I’m not even sure if it would be legal, anyway.”

Arianna rubbed her stomach. “Well, come on. We can talk about it over lunch. I’m hungry.”

“Go on ahead.” Melina smiled at her pleasantly plump friend who loved the rich Greek food the embassy served. “I’ll lock my desk and meet you at the elevator.”

Melina set the telephone button that would route incoming calls to Anna and fumbled in her bag for her vanity case to freshen up.

Would the woman who stared back at her in the small mirror ever be free of the controlling influence of a man? Her younger two brothers had somehow managed to find their own way without her father’s unwelcome influence. Why couldn’t she?

Because you are a woman in an established society, a small pragmatic voice answered. In a traditional country like Greece, unmarried women were still expected to be guided by their fathers. Especially in her home village of Nafplion.

Not me! Melina vowed as she made for the elevator. Somewhere, somehow, she would find a way to keep her independence and to live out her heart’s desire. At least for a few years.

“Ah, Melina, there you are! I was just coming back to get you.” Eleni pushed her way through the open door. “Hurry, the elevator will leave without you.”

“There’s always another elevator.” Melina laughed as she squeezed in alongside her friend. “What’s so special about this one?”

“Trust me.” Eleni wiggled her way to the back of the elevator and pulled Melina with her. “This one is our elevator.”

“I’m starving.” Arianna wiggled and grumbled beside her. “It’s so crowded in here, I can hardly breathe.”

Pushed back against a solid, masculine body, Melina quickly realized she was almost skin to skin with the man who stood behind her. “Excuse me,” she murmured, and tried to give him space. It didn’t work. What was working, to her dismay, was the effect of the man’s pungent shaving lotion. The scent, combined with the pressure of his firm chest against her back, brought her hormones to attention. The sound of his deep, raspy voice in her ear didn’t help her to think too rationally, either.

Wondering if the intimate contact was having the same effect on him, she belatedly realized that he was speaking with an American accent. Ignoring her faint apology, he continued his conversation with the other man who also shared their space.

“My ex called this morning to inform me she intends to remarry next week.”

“Congratulations!” a Greek-accented voice answered. “Just think of all the money in alimony you’ll save.”

“That’s not the point, Peter,” the American went on. “Jeanette made it clear she expects me to come home to take care of little Jamie while she’s on her honeymoon.”

“That is understandable, my friend. After all, Jamie is your daughter.”

“Of course. I’m nuts about Jamie,” the American agreed. “It’s not just the short notice, I don’t know how to take care of a little girl on a daily basis.”

Melina felt like an eavesdropper as the very masculine and warm chest behind her heaved a deep sigh. “The problem is, I have to travel on business a great deal,” the American went on. “I’m going to have to look for both a housekeeper and a nanny when I get back to the States.”

“Why spend money for two women when one would do?”

“One?” There was a pause. “I’m not sure one woman could handle both jobs. You have a family, Pete. Which do you think is a better idea, a housekeeper or a nanny?”

“Neither,” Pete answered with a wry laugh. “We Greeks are more practical than you Americans. Forget a nanny or a housekeeper. What you need is a wife.”

Melina’s antenna quivered as the elevator stopped one more time to let a passenger out before continuing on up to the roof. Myriad thoughts raced through Melina’s mind.

A housekeeper? The position had to be, as her American colleagues frequently said, a piece of cake. As a dutiful Greek daughter, she was well versed in taking care of a home…. She’d learned to cook for five people…How difficult could feeding two people be?

A nanny? As the only girl in her family, she’d often helped her mother with the care of her two younger brothers. For the past two years she’d also taught Greek language to young embassy children and, in the process, had wiped more than a few runny noses. How different could the job of a nanny to one child be?

Here was her chance to get her heart’s desire and still be able to put off her father’s demand that she marry, she thought. It was worth a try.

The elevator, empty except for Melina, her two friends and the two men behind her, finally reached the roof garden. Tables, shaded against the afternoon sun by dark green umbrellas, were surrounded by pots of colorful flowers and vine-covered trellises. The scent of warm food at the buffet table filled the air.

Eleni poked her in the ribs. “We’re here,” she whispered. “Go ahead. Now is your chance.”

Her chance? Had Eleni overheard the men’s conversation and put one and one together? Had Eleni read her mind?

Melina was so engrossed in preparing a logical approach to the American that one of the two men exiting the elevator bumped into her.

“Ah, Melina Kostos! I thought that was you!”

Melina pulled her wayward thoughts together. “Uh, hello, Peter. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking. How are you?”

“Excellent,” he said with a broad smile. “Even better now that I’ve met you again. Come, let me introduce you to my American friend, Adam Blake.”

Peter Stakis was a friendly sort and a member of the Greek embassy’s trade office. Peter often visited the American embassy on business. He was also a good friend of her family’s. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Blake.”

“Likewise,” the American businessman said, an admiring look in his eyes.

To Melina’s relief he looked approachable. She decided to come right out with it. To talk to him frankly and to solicit his cooperation. It was just a matter of finding the right way to say what she wanted to say without appearing the complete fool.

She was about to introduce her friends when Eleni grabbed Arianna’s arm and made for an empty table. “We’ll see you later!”

Peter raised an eyebrow at their abrupt departure, shrugged, and gestured to the buffet table offering up hot food, salads, sandwiches and drinks. “Since it appears you are now alone, will you join us for lunch, Melina?”

“Thank you, I would like to.” Melina couldn’t figure out how Eleni had known which elevator to take for Melina to meet her destiny, but she was grateful. Even more so when Eleni had had the foresight to take Arianna and leave. Now, to find a way to get rid of Peter before she made her pitch. The fewer people who overheard her, the better. Especially someone who knew her family.

The scents of pita-wrapped sandwiches and the traditional Greek salad of cucumbers, walnuts and tomatoes pulled her to the buffet table. Maybe, she prayed silently, her stomach would stop fluttering if it were full.

“Salad, please,” she told the server. “With just a bit of oil and vinegar dressing.”

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” the American asked as he hovered over a tray of moussaka.

Melina glanced at the inviting displays of cold cucumber pita sandwiches and the container of hot moussaka. Never mind the chocolate chip cookies and the baklava that begged for her attention. It all looked delicious. But the truth was, she was too nervous to eat. It wasn’t every day a woman came face-to-face with her destiny.

“I usually don’t eat much at noon,” she answered, gesturing for a glass of iced tea.

Peter’s American friend didn’t seem to have a problem with food, she thought enviously as she watched him ask for a double helping of moussaka. Like all Greek girls, she’d been raised to know how to cook for a family. If she wound up as Adam Blake’s housekeeper, she vowed, he would never lack the Greek food he seemed to favor.

“How are your parents, your brothers, Melina?” Peter asked as they were seated.

“Fine, thank you,” she said, sipping her iced tea to take her mind off Adam Blake’s clear hazel eyes, the deep cleft in his square jaw and his innate sensuality. How in heaven’s name could she be attracted to a man she’d just noticed but had never been introduced to before? “Busy with the family pistachio business.”

“Good, good. You have a fine family, Melina. I shall have to visit them soon and pay my respects to your father.” Melina blinked and hoped the visit wouldn’t take place too soon.

She gathered enough information during lunch to learn that Adam Blake was a U.S. importer of such Greek products as extra-virgin olive oil and fine wines. Which meant, unfortunately, that he traveled a great deal. It was no wonder that he was dismayed at having to take over the care of his little daughter.

Just as well, Melina thought, that he wasn’t going to be around every day or she’d be a basket case. She caught him eyeing the way she nervously played with the top button on her blouse. Though she tried to return his gaze casually, she couldn’t seem to keep her fingers still under his stare. To add to her problem, his blatant masculinity sent her mind down paths a woman who wanted to apply for the job as his housekeeper had no right to tread. She had to approach the man with a business proposition—no more, no less.

It wasn’t until the men were into their dessert that Melina had gathered enough courage to speak her mind. The honeyed scent of the slice of baklava pastry wafted across the table.

She took a deep breath. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Blake, but I overheard you in the elevator telling Peter you are looking for someone to help you take care of your young daughter.”

“Why yes, I guess I am.” Adam looked at her with growing interest. “Why, do you know someone who might be interested?”

Melina wiped her dry lips with her paper napkin. “Yes, I do. Me.”

Adam Blake looked as if she’d hit him right between the eyes with a brick. Compared to the train that suddenly seemed to roar through her already queasy stomach, it was a mild reaction. “You?”

“Yes, me,” she repeated firmly, and took another deep swallow of iced tea.

“Why?” Adam frowned and glanced around the patio. “I thought you worked here at the embassy.”

“I do, for now. Actually, my position is being eliminated—for financial reasons.”

“You want a position as a housekeeper?” Adam Blake repeated cautiously. “That would be quite a change for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Melina answered quietly, trying to still the inner voice that was cautioning her to go slowly. “I have my reasons.”

Adam Blake regarded her for a long moment. From the way she kept playing with the button on her blouse, she knew it was obvious that she was nervous. He finally asked, “And those reasons are?”

Melina glanced at Peter Stakis before she answered. Something in her eyes must have told him she wanted privacy. He rose and pushed back his chair. “Nice to see you again, Melina. Please say hello to your father for me. Adam, I’ll see you downstairs in the trade office when you’re through with lunch.”

WITH PETER GONE, Adam sat back in his chair and stared, fascinated by the play of her finely shaped fingers against her slender throat. Uneasily, he prepared to listen to Melina. He didn’t know her, or anything about her other than what he’d gleaned during lunch. She was beautiful in the classic Greek way—dark hair, almond-shaped, lavender-colored eyes, slender and tall. She was obviously intelligent or she wouldn’t have been employed as the embassy’s receptionist.

Peter had sent his regards to her parents and her brothers, he mused, so he knew she came from a well-regarded family. But as a housekeeper? Did he dare take a chance?

“Go ahead,” he said, not convinced, but willing to listen. “I’m all ears.”

She glanced at his ears and looked bewildered. Until he laughed and explained. “It’s an old American expression,” he said. “I meant, you have my full attention. Why would you want to help take care of my daughter instead of remaining here in Greece?”

“I will take care of your little girl,” she said slowly before visibly taking another deep breath and plunging on, “in exchange for a green card that will enable me to stay and work in your country later.”

Adam blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him he could be her ticket to the United States. To add to his dilemma, green cards were becoming increasingly difficult to obtain. Melina’s offer, though not exactly conventional, was worthy of consideration if she was as authentic as she seemed. After all, he needed her. Or, at least, someone like her.

On the other hand, he only had her word that she was being let go for economic reasons. Maybe all she had was ambition and a taste for wanderlust. How long would she remain with him as his housekeeper or as his daughter’s nanny once she got her hands on that green card? Was she worth the risk?

The more he thought about Melina’s proposition the more leery he became of the idea of bringing a desirable but virtual stranger into his home.

Adam gazed into her earnest lavender eyes and finally made her an offer no woman in her right mind would accept.

“I don’t need a housekeeper or a nanny,” he said as he remembered Peter’s frank comment. He intended to politely lay his cards on the table for an alternate proposition. A proposition she was bound to turn down and that would afford him a graceful exit. “What I really need is a wife.”

Her eyes narrowed, a blush covered her finely etched cheeks. She froze.

“A wife?” The words were hardly a whisper.

“Yes, a wife,” he answered. He sat back, waiting for her to tell him he was out of his mind and to leave. The fine hairs on the back of his neck started to tingle at the speculative look that slowly came into her eyes. Maybe he hadn’t made himself clear enough. “You know, the kind who says ‘I do’ in front of a preacher,” he said, mentally crossing his fingers.

“And a green card?”

“You got it. It’s all or nothing.”

Melina hesitated while she silently tallied the factors in Adam Blake’s favor.

He wasn’t exactly a stranger to her. A respected businessman, she’d seen him come and go through the embassy for the past two years.

His aura whenever she’d caught a glimpse of him, until today, had been clearly businesslike and above reproach.

He also appeared to be a close friend of Peter’s. That alone was enough to persuade her.

Her inner voice cautioned her to go slowly. Why was he offering to marry a woman he didn’t know instead of hiring her on as a housekeeper or nanny?

“How much of a wife did you have in mind?” she asked cautiously.

Adam blinked. He hadn’t thought that far, nor had he thought that she would accept his ridiculous proposition. All he had thought about was a way to get rid of her by suggesting the impossible. Now what would he do if she were truly serious about taking him up on his off-the-wall alternative?

And why had he listened to Peter, anyway?

He shot Melina a suggestive smile deliberately calculated to change her mind and to get them both off the hook. “Let’s just say it wouldn’t only be a marriage of convenience.”

Melina regarded him warily and rapidly considered her options. Reared to marry young, to have children and to raise a family, she was within a heartbeat of achieving her heart’s desire of going to the United States. Most women would jump at the chance to marry a man like Adam Blake instead of entering an arranged marriage. At least Adam was handsome, successful and an attentive father.

Would she come to love him? That was another story. She didn’t know him well enough to judge. Still, he had to be better than what awaited her at home. And wasn’t a marriage of convenience what her father had actually had in mind when he’d told her he would find a husband for her if she didn’t find one for herself?

Was there any difference between a stranger her father might choose for her and a man she chose for herself? she mused as she regarded Adam. Marriage and children had been her ultimate goal, hadn’t it?

Her body tingled at the thought. She had a few reservations, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn back. She held out her hand. “As they say in your country, Adam Blake, it’s a deal.”

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. Desperate times called for desperate measures, he thought wildly, or he was going to wind up a married man again. He had to give Melina a few things to think about before the situation got out of hand. For sure, he couldn’t afford to encourage her by taking her outstretched hand. Or to tease himself. Not when he knew he had to come clean or never be able to live with himself.

“Miss Kostos,” he said after he took a deep breath. “I have to be honest with you. I’m afraid I was out of line when I said I needed a wife. My offer was impulsive, and, now that it’s out in the open, incredibly stupid. The truth is, I don’t really want a wife. I’ve been married before and I wasn’t a good husband, or so I was told. However, I do need a housekeeper or a nanny. And I do need to get one as soon as possible.”

Melina regarded him thoughtfully. Still, if he was that honest with her, she had to be honest with him. “That’s too bad, because I think I need a husband.”

“You think?” A cautious look came into his eyes.

“Well, yes,” she said with a wry smile, “but it’s not what you think. I meant it when I said I wanted to go to America and to get a green card to work there. The only way I know how to get the card is to find a sponsor and to apply through the proper channels. That might take forever.” She sighed. “Or—” she looked at him in a way that made his heart race “—I could marry an American citizen and then apply for a card. I think that would be easier. Of course,” she added, afraid he might think she was mercenary. “I promise I will…what you Americans say, pay my way by taking care of your home and your daughter.”

Adam’s mind boggled at the thought she still wanted to be his wife even after he’d confessed he wasn’t good husband material. “Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that,” she agreed. “As for my qualifications, you should know I am the oldest child in my family, with two younger brothers. If you knew my brothers, God bless them both, you would know I am well qualified to care for a little girl. As for taking care of you—” she blushed at the possible interpretation of her words and pushed forward “—I have been well trained in keeping a home.”

Adam felt bewildered…until he realized the scheme she was suggesting might work. If he didn’t want a real wife, she obviously didn’t want a real husband. She wanted a green card and a chance to see his country. A marriage certificate would, in the long run, get them both what they wanted.

“Okay. It’s a deal. Of course,” he went on, “you should realize we have to make things look legitimate or the immigration authorities at home will never buy our sudden marriage.”

Melina’s gaze turned wary. “What do you have in mind to make the marriage look real?”

“We’ll have to look as if we fell in love at first sight and couldn’t wait to get married,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice and a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll even get in touch with Peter and ask him to back us up. From what I know about him, he’s a real romantic. By the time I get through, he’s bound to believe I fell for you like a ton of bricks. Of course, the real reason for the marriage will have to remain between us. How does that sound?”

It was the twinkle in his eyes and the beguiling crooked smile on his lips that gave Melina pause. If Adam had been attractive and sexy when he was serious, he was even more so when he poked fun at himself. Too bad they hadn’t had time to really get to know each other, she thought wistfully. Adam Blake was the type of man she would have liked to have for a real husband.

“What did you have in mind to show we have a real marriage?” she finally asked.

“Easy. We’ll get married and go on a honeymoon. How does a weekend in Corfu sound to you?”