Читать книгу My Big Fake Green-Card Wedding - Mollie Molay - Страница 11

On Saturday, Adam breathed a sigh of relief. He’d spent two days obtaining a temporary visa for Melina and a special wedding license. What had started out to be a joke had ended in a real marriage. The brief, impersonal ceremony performed by the American embassy’s resident chaplain had thankfully ended almost before it began.

The only thing he seemed to recall clearly was the two floral wreaths Melina had produced for them to wear on their heads. According to his new wife, the wreaths, joined together with white ribbons, were part of the Greek Orthodox wedding ceremony meant to symbolize their new life as a married couple.

Adam hadn’t had the heart to remind Melina that this was a marriage in name only—a marriage that could be dissolved as soon as she obtained her green card. Considering the hurried ceremony, he supposed that wearing the wreath was the least he could have done for her.

“Thank you for helping out on such short notice,” Adam said gratefully to his best man, Peter Stakis. Eleni Leontis and Arianna Miscouri, the happy bridesmaids, let out squeals of happiness and rushed forward to hug the blushing bride.

“My pleasure, my friend,” Peter answered, obviously puzzled at the unexpected result of Adam’s meeting with Melina only three days ago, but too much of a gentleman to comment. “But you’ve forgotten something. You have yet to kiss the bride!”

Adam, who had been wondering just how long he would be able to keep his hands off his new wife, glanced at Melina. A kiss to seal their bargain? Why not? According to their agreement, kissing in public was legit. Besides, the undercurrent of sensual attraction between himself and Melina was definitely real even if their marriage was not.

“You’re right. Pardon me, ladies.” Adam pulled his unresisting new bride to his side, put his arms around her shoulders and kissed her. Gently, not only for the benefit of their audience, but because he wasn’t sure about Melina’s reaction. When she gazed up at him with those intriguing lavender eyes, he did what he’d wanted to do for the past three days. He deepened the kiss until Melina’s lips stirred under his.

Their marriage might only be one of convenience, he mused as he gazed down at the surprised look on Melina’s face, but it seemed to him she had enjoyed the kiss as much as he had.

If only he hadn’t been foolish enough to agree to be a hands-off groom to a bride whose lips begged to be kissed. To complicate matters, the way she was gazing back at him was doing a number on his testosterone level.

For a moment he actually felt guilty about taking advantage of Melina, but he didn’t regret the kiss. When she pulled away, he filed the kiss under “unfinished business.”

As he listened to the minister’s small talk, Adam kept an appreciative eye on his bride. She wore a short, white, silk slip of a dress. A matching sheer scarf embroidered with tiny pink roses covered her bare, creamy shoulders. A floral wreath of pink roses woven in between tiny green ferns encircled her shining dark brown hair.

It wasn’t her mother’s wedding gown, which she’d hoped to wear on her wedding day, he’d overheard Melina lament to her friends before the ceremony. The off-the-rack dress had been all she could find to resemble a wedding dress on short notice, she’d said.

His usual dark blue business suit, white shirt and blue-and-white striped tie suited him just fine. But, what was embarrassing had been the duplicate floral wreaths Melina had produced for them to wear on their heads during the ceremony. He’d been tempted to beg off, but considering how much of a traditional Greek wedding Melina had given up by agreeing to today’s ceremony, he’d caved in.

Girls seemed to be made of more than sugar and spice, he thought as he gazed at his bride out of the corner of his eye. They were the weavers of dreams and the stuff that could hold a marriage together—if their husbands were willing to cooperate. With one failed marriage behind him, he was afraid this marriage, real or not, wasn’t destined to fare any better than his first.

He couldn’t remember ever having seen a more beautiful bride than Melina, he thought as she laughed at something Arianna said, blushed then glanced at him. He tried to look as if he hadn’t noticed, but it didn’t take much imagination to guess that the remark had been about the wedding night.

If this had been a real marriage, he would have been looking forward to the wedding night and the short honeymoon. Instead, since he was an honorable man, it was going to have to be hands off his bride, with an annulment somewhere down the line. He didn’t need the complications of having to go through another divorce. One had been bad enough.

One step at a time, he told himself. One step at a time. What he had to do was to somehow get through the rest of the evening and the brief honeymoon without touching his new wife. It wasn’t going to be easy, he thought ruefully when his body stirred at the sound of Melina’s fresh burst of laughter.

Maybe it was just as well the marriage was temporary, he mused wryly. He wasn’t husband material. A woman deserved something more than a husband who spent two out of four weeks on the go. At least, that’s what his ex had said when she’d asked for a divorce.

In spite of his attempt at pragmatic rationalization, the idea of a temporary, unconsummated marriage didn’t sound as sensible now as it had before. Not when the bride had already made giant inroads to his psyche.

He told himself Melina would get something out of the marriage—a green card. In fact, he’d already started the paperwork to get one for her as the wife of an American citizen. The way bureaucratic red tape usually inched along, he was afraid that the two-year mandatory wait was going to be trouble.

“Congratulations, my friend,” Peter said after he’d rejoined Adam. “Who would have thought an unromantic and pragmatic American like yourself would fall in love with a romantic Greek woman, and at first sight?” He stood back and regarded Adam with a quizzical look. “And even to agree to wear the traditional wedding wreath.”

Adam shrugged and glanced at the beribboned wreaths Melina now held in her hand. “It was Melina’s idea. I understand the custom brings good luck to a marriage,” he said, knowing he’d been a fraud to have agreed to wear the wreath.

Peter was right about him, Adam thought as he studied his beautiful bride. He always prided himself on being honest and straightforward to a fault. His friends had accused him of being overly cautious, straitlaced and without a sense of humor.

If they could only see him now.

“Wait a moment,” Melina called, rushing to his side. She took a rose out of one of the wreaths and tucked it into the buttonhole in his lapel. “There,” she said with a shy smile. “Something for you to remember this day.”

Adam looked into Melina’s intriguing lavender eyes—and all his nerve ends began to tingle. Real marriage or not, he wouldn’t need the rose to help him remember today’s wedding. Or that she was his wife. She was the kind of woman a red-blooded man would never forget.

Melina saw a fleeting look of regret flit over Adam’s eyes. If he was having second thoughts about their marriage bargain, she hoped it wasn’t because of her. She intended to be a good wife to Adam even if their bargain called for sleeping on separate pillows.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not really.” Adam made a show of glancing at his watch. “I was just thinking it’s about time to set off on our honeymoon.”

Melina’s mind whirled at the word “honeymoon” and all its usual connotations. The way Adam had kissed her and the way he was looking at her now made her hormones stand at attention. He had to be the temptation her strict father had warned her against, but at the moment she didn’t care. Too bad she’d asked for a no-touching rule, she thought as she thrust temptation behind her for now. “Where are we going?”

“I have a friend, Yannis Alexacki. He’s offered to lend us his villa on Corfu.”

Melina felt herself blanch and her stomach roil at the mention of Corfu. Any sensuous thoughts she might have entertained at the thought of really honeymooning with Adam flew out of her mind. “Corfu?”

“Yes. Yannis has become a good friend over the years. He’ll be able to swear we’re in love and on a real honeymoon.”

“A witness? To our honeymoon?”

Adam fought back the smile at the look on Melina’s face. “Don’t worry. Once he gives us the key, he’ll leave us alone.” And so will I, he added to remind himself this was to be a platonic marriage. When Melina didn’t look convinced, he tried to reassure her. “I arranged a honeymoon for a reason. When the United States Immigration department investigates us for your green card, Peter can swear he witnessed our wedding and Yannis will be able to swear we honeymooned at his villa.”

“But, Corfu is an island!” she blurted.

Adam looked confused. “Right. Any problem with that?”

Melina was too embarrassed to tell Adam she became seasick just thinking of a boat. “We go by boat?”

“Don’t worry,” Adam assured her. “The voyage to Corfu doesn’t take too long.”

“Long enough,” Melina muttered.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you? I’m afraid it’s a little too late to cancel now.”

“No. It’s just that I tend to get a little seasick,” Melina said bravely. What man wanted a seasick bride on a honeymoon, even if the honeymoon wasn’t going to be a real one? She’d come this far to escape her father and an arranged marriage—now was not the time to think of turning back. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

Adam motioned to the wedding guests. “We’ll leave just as soon as we say goodbye.”

“You can’t leave now,” Eleni protested when she heard Adam’s plans for a honeymoon. “It’s a custom in our country for the bride and groom to share a meal together at their wedding.”

Melina glanced at Adam. “Do we have time?”

By now Adam had had all the Greek customs and promises he could handle, including Melina’s no-touching rule. He tried to look like an eager bridegroom. “Thank you, but we have a boat to catch.”

With a dramatic sigh, Eleni dug into her purse and pulled out little paper bags filled with rice and tied with ribbons. After passing them to Peter and Arianna, she blew air kisses at Adam and Melina and, shouting, “Hopa!” she tossed the rice into the air. “May you be blessed with many children!”

Melina’s smile faded as she glanced at Adam and saw a startled look come over his face. He was right. With the no-touching rule, there would be no chance of their having children. The idea of a son that resembled Adam made her ache with a longing she’d never taken the time to dwell on before. Even though the rule had been her idea, after promising to love, honor and cherish Adam, she was almost ready to change her mind if he asked her to.

Adam swallowed hard as a grain of rice hit him above his right eye. He wasn’t going to stick around to hear any Greek blessings, tradition or not. Children! Fat chance, when he thought of his promise not to touch his bride. Besides, his daughter Jamie was enough for him. He reached for Melina’s hand and dashed with her out of the chapel.

AS IF HER FEAR of water had become a prophecy, Melina leaned limply over the side of the ferryboat taking them to Corfu. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I took the seasick pills you gave me before we left, but they don’t seem to be working.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Working on the theory that they were still in public and that touching was okay, Adam joined her on the bench and offered his handkerchief. “If I’d known you’d react this way, I would have arranged to fly to the island.”

Melina dabbed at her lips and smiled wearily. “I’m sure I’ll be fine as soon as we get on land.”

“Good.” Adam felt relieved, but he wasn’t so sure she was right. She was a good sport and deserved better than to be taken on a ferryboat that not only transported humans but also accommodated livestock.

He eyed a family huddled together across the deck. An older boy had a small pig trapped in his arms. A young sibling held the tether to a goat while his mother, from her gestures, warned him to be sure the goat didn’t chew its way free.

To really blow Adam’s mind, the goat was watching him intently.

“Yannis has arranged to have the ferryboat stop at his private dock,” Adam said with a watchful eye on the goat. “He said he would only hang around long enough to take us to his villa. I’m sure you’ll feel much better after a good night’s sleep.” He put his hand under her hair and gently massaged the back of her neck.

He heard a gentle sigh as Melina settled against him. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts against his chest gradually slowed to an even, steady beat. Surprised by her sudden silence, he gazed down at his new bride. The seasick pills must have finally worked; she’d actually fallen asleep in his arms. He raised his other hand to gently caress her cheek. Touching was okay, he told himself. They were, after all, in public.

Suddenly he felt something nudge his back. When he turned around, there was the bewhiskered goat actually trying to reach the rose Adam wore in his lapel!

He let out a curse. The boy’s mother grabbed her son by his ear and, with an apologetic smile, pointed to Adam’s jacket.

Adam tore the rose from his coat lapel, tossed it at the goat and shielded Melina before the animal had a chance to go for the small wedding bouquet she clutched in her hand.

Adam mentally compared the voyage to the uneventful ferry back home that ran between San Francisco and Sausalito. Cars and people, yes. Livestock, no. So much for quaint Greek customs.

Thankfully, Yannis, as good as his word, was waiting at his private dock where he had arranged for a special ferry stop.

Melina looked so peaceful nestled against him, Adam hated to wake her. He gathered her in his arms, motioned to an attendant to bring their two small bags and strode off the boat to meet his friend. “Thanks, Yannis. I’m sorry my wife isn’t awake to meet you,” he said, determined to have his friend believe Melina was a much-loved bride.

“Ah,” Yannis said with a broad smile. “The honeymoon has begun?”

Adam glanced down at long brown eyelashes that curved against Melina’s flushed cheeks. “I wish,” he said dryly. “I’m afraid my wife was seasick coming over. What she needs now is a good night’s rest on firm ground.”

Yannis took the two bags from the ferry attendant and motioned for Adam to follow. “I’ve arranged for your privacy. I have given the servants the weekend off,” he said expansively. “There’s enough food and drink to last you for a few days, my friend. Although I don’t suppose you will be interested in food at a time like this. The rest of the honeymoon is up to you.” He winked.

I wish, Adam thought as he shifted a sleeping Melina more comfortably in his arms. He followed his friend up the lighted stairs that had been carved into the hillside.

On the first level he reached, there was a large swimming pool surrounded by a cabana and white-and-green patio furniture. The approach to the villa itself—on the next level—was lined by graceful Greek statues and towering white marble columns covered with flowering honeysuckle vines. A beautiful blue sea and a white beach came into view.

As he realized they had reached the open interior of the villa overlooking the Ionian Sea he wished Melina was awake to enjoy the view. A few more steps and he found himself in a bedroom with a large king-size bed covered with a blue-and-white-velvet bedspread and matching pillows. The outer wall was a large picture window open to the scented evening air.

Adam’s body hardened at the impossible thought of lying against the mound of soft pillows and gazing out over the horizon with Melina in his arms.

Yannis stood aside while Adam gently placed Melina on the bed. “Nice, yes?”

“Nice, yes,” Adam echoed with a wry glance at his sleeping bride. “Is there another bedroom?”

“Another bedroom?” Yannis grinned. “There is only one bedroom here,” he added with a wink. “What would a bachelor like myself need with two bedrooms?”

Adam’s heart sank. The bed, certainly more than large enough to accommodate two people, was a temptation. But what if Melina awakened to find him in bed with her? More to the point, if he slept with her, how would he be able to keep to the no-touching rule?

Yet there was no way he was looking forward to sleeping on a couch in the other room tonight. After the surprising events of the past three days, he was simply exhausted.

“Well, my friend,” Yannis said cheerfully, “I will leave you to your honeymoon. There is a private telephone line in the den linked to my office in town, call me when you’re ready to leave.”

Adam was almost sorry to see his friend go. The immediate problem now was that he and Melina would be alone. And once they had their privacy, the damned no-touching rule would kick in.

A promise was a promise, he told himself as he turned back to the bedroom. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

In the meantime it was up to him to make sure Melina was comfortable. With the household help gone, the job was now his.

The no-touching rule would have to be suspended for now.

He mentally crossed his fingers for luck, took a deep breath and slipped off Melina’s shoes. It took a few moments for him to determine what came next, but he decided the obvious place to start was with her legs. He gently peeled silk stockings down long, shapely, creamy-smooth legs and over slender ankles to manicured toes.

The zipper on her sheer white dress presented a problem. He studied the dress before he gently turned Melina onto her side and slowly pulled down the zipper to below her waist. To his relief, Melina sighed and turned over onto her back. Sliding the dress off her shoulders and down her slender hips was a breeze.

He studied her sheer lacy bra and panties. They would prove to be a major problem that he was currently in no condition to try to resolve if he intended to honor their bargain. He left the dainty garments on, gently pulled the bedcovers back and arranged his sleeping bride in a cocoon of soft throw pillows.

Melina was everything a sane man could want in a woman, he thought as he gazed down at her. He questioned his sanity for putting himself in such a no-win situation as this. There was absolutely no way he could join her in bed and honor their bargain.

To keep himself awake, he wandered into a gleaming kitchen to find something to eat. Copper pots and pans hung from racks above the stove. A coffeemaker, a sealed canister of coffee and a toaster waited on a tiled counter.

A note on the refrigerator caught his attention. To his surprise, and great relief, it was an invitation to help himself.

Too tired to investigate the entire contents of the refrigerator, Adam reached inside for a covered plate of sliced chicken breast and an apple to munch on while he considered where to sleep.

He wandered from room to room. Unless he was a contortionist, the sectional couch in the living room was out. The couch in the den, which was no more than a futon covered with colorful pillows, resembled more of a playground than a bed.

A large TV stood against one den wall. A movie screen and a wall of built-in shelves containing dozens of videos filled another. Like the bedroom, an entire wall was made of glass.

Yannis had been dead-on about the secluded villa being a bachelor pad, Adam thought wearily as he made his way back to the kitchen—the only enclosed room in the house.

If he wanted a good night’s sleep, he had to go back to the bedroom and find a way to share the only decent bed in the house.

Adam stood at the foot of the bed, contemplating Melina. He finally decided he could resort to the early American custom of “bundling” he’d read about in some history class years ago. With beds scarce in Colonial America, he remembered reading that guests slept in the same beds separated by a barrier.