Читать книгу Billionaire Heirs: The Kyriakos Virgin Bride - Tessa Radley - Страница 7

“I do.”

Pandora Armstrong spoke the vow in a clear, steady voice, and a warm tide of radiance swept over her. She sneaked a look up at her groom. Zac Kyriakos stood like a rock beside her, feet apart, facing the archbishop. Serious. Intent. Utterly gorgeous.

He was staring straight ahead. His profile could’ve been culled from any of the statues or friezes in the Acropolis Museum he’d taken Pandora to explore three days ago. The arrogant nose that ran in a straight sweep from his forehead to the nose tip, the strong jaw, the broad and high-boned cheekbones all resembled the marble statues she’d seen. But it was on his full mouth that her gaze lingered. Jeez, his mouth …

Full and sensuous, it was a mouth made for pure sin.

Zac glanced down and caught her staring. His colder-than-glass green eyes blazed, possessive. And that sexy to-die-for mouth curved into a smile.

Desire shot through her. Pandora tore her gaze away and stared blindly at the bouquet of creamy white roses clasped in her free hand.

Dear God. How could she feel like this about a man? And not just any man. This was Zac Kyriakos, who made her feel feverish and shaky. What had he done to her?

Enthralled her?

She blinked, fighting the urge to wipe her eyes, in case she woke up and discovered she’d dreamed the whole thing. How could she, Pandora, Miss Goody Two-Shoes—except for that terrible summer three years ago—have fallen in love so quickly?

Dimly she heard the archbishop say, “You may kiss the bride.”

The vows and the kiss were not part of the Greek Orthodox ceremony. Zac had requested the traditional vows for her sake.

She was married!

Married to the tall, dark and exceedingly handsome man whose right hand she clutched so tightly that her fingernails must be leaving crescent-shaped marks on his palm. Inside, her stomach cramped with nervous excitement. It wasn’t every day that a woman married a man who until three months ago had been a stranger.

“Pandora?”

She lifted her head. Their eyes connected. Heat arced between them. Zac’s eyes smouldered. Possessive. Hungry. But there was a question in those compelling eyes, too.

Pandora nodded, a small, almost imperceptible nod, granting him the permission he sought.

Zac’s hand tightened on hers. The warm weight of his other palm rested on the curve of her hip covered by the embroidered wedding gown passed from Kyriakos bride to Kyriakos bride through centuries. A gentle tug turned her to face him. His head swept down. That devastating mouth brushed hers, warm and intimate.

And just like that Pandora forgot about the archbishop, forgot about the people packed into the pews. Forgot that this was Zac Kyriakos. Shipping tycoon. Billionaire.

The only reality was the sensual touch of his lips on hers. And the heat that shivered through her.

Too soon he set her away. Only then did she become aware of the flashing cameras and remember they stood in a church where nearly a thousand people watched. Instantly the trembling heat evaporated. Despite the blazing white August sun outside, she felt suddenly chilled.

“Goodness!” Pandora’s eyes stretched wide as she stared at the noisy wall of paparazzi surrounding the bridal car as they turned into Zac’s estate in Kifissia, the exclusive area north of Athens where the reception was being held.

“Overwhelming?” A flash of white teeth and a wicked grin lit up Zac’s darkly tanned face. “A three-ring circus?”

“Yes.” Pandora leaned back, trying to hide from the intrusive camera lenses. From the minute she’d stepped off the plane the paparazzi had been waiting to mob her. But Zac and his bodyguards had kept the hungry horde at a distance. Pandora supposed she should have anticipated the furious speculation the wedding between Zac Kyriakos and a reclusive heiress had roused. The great-grandson of a Russian princess and the legendary Orestes Kyriakos, Zac had inherited most of his fortune from his grandfather, Socrates, after Orestes had used his kidnapped bride’s wealth to restore the state of the Kyriakos fortune to its pre-Great War glory. Both Orestes and Socrates had been legends in their own times, and Zac himself featured prominently on the covers of the world’s finance magazines, as well as making the annual list of most eligible bachelors in the known universe for the last decade.

But naively Pandora hadn’t given his fame a thought, hadn’t expected to have her wedding treated like that of royalty.

“Smile. They think our wedding is romantic. A modern fairy tale,” Zac whispered into her ear. “And you’re the beautiful princess.”

Feeling as though she were performing to the gallery, Pandora turned to the window and bared her teeth in a travesty of a smile. The cameramen went crazy. And then they were sweeping through the tall wrought-iron gates, along the private tree-lined avenue through parklike gardens.

“Pandora.” Without warning, Zac’s expression turned serious and he reached for her hand. “Remember what I told you when you arrived? Don’t read the papers. Don’t search for those photos in the newspapers tomorrow. The lies and half-truths that accompany them will only upset you. Concentrate on us, on our future together,” he said, his voice unexpectedly fierce as his thumb caressed the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. “The speculation, the gossip and garbage the tabloids dredge up will destroy you.”

“I know. I already promised you I won’t read the papers.” She sighed. “I only wish Dad had been here.” Her father’s absence was the only shadow that hung over an otherwise perfect day. But since a bad bout of pneumonia four winters ago had left his lungs permanently damaged, necessitating regular doses of oxygen, her father no longer risked airline travel. “I always thought he’d be there on my wedding day to give me away.”

The realization was dawning that she’d left her father and her childhood home far behind. After today, she would spend the rest of her life with Zac. Loved. Adored. The pomp and people didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing except Zac.

Zac’s house—more like a mansion, with its tower and stone walls—appeared before them. This would be her home from now on, together with the town house he owned in London. Zac had also spoken about buying a retreat in New Zealand, near her father’s station.

“Your father may not be here, but I am. I’ll always be here for you.” At the intensity in his voice she turned her head. His hard, hewn features were softened by the sun filtering through the bulletproof glass windows, his eyes curiously gentle. Her throat tightened. She cast around for words but couldn’t find any that matched the moment.

“Are you ready to face the world, yineka mou?” he asked as the car slowed.

My wife.

Pandora shot him a dazzling smile, happiness overflowing within her. She smoothed down the swathes of silk of the antique full-skirted gown.

“I’m ready for anything.”

Zac helped her from the car and they braved the informal honour guard of smiling well-wishers that lined the path to the front door. Pandora couldn’t wait to meet Zac’s friends, the sister and cousins he’d talked about incessantly during his stay in New Zealand. She’d wanted to meet them earlier in the week when she’d arrived in Athens. Zac had smiled, his eyes crinkling in that irresistible way that she loved, and told her he wasn’t ready to share her yet. He wanted to play the tourist, he’d explained, to show her around. There’d be time enough to meet his friends and kin and staff later … at the wedding. She’d acquiesced. Zac only had to smile at her and she turned to mush.

They’d met at High Ridge, her father’s vast sheep station in the South Island. Zac had come to New Zealand to discuss the possibility of guests flying in for exclusive stays at a working sheep station in luxury accommodation while a Kyriakos cruise ship docked at Christchurch.

And it had been at High Ridge that the miracle had taken place—Zac had fallen in love with her. A whirlwind courtship followed. Three weeks. Packed with precious hours spent together. Then he’d stunned her with his proposal of marriage, the fabulous diamond ring, the promise to cherish her forever.

Recklessly, she’d said yes. And started to cry. He’d wiped the happy tears away, and his tenderness had made her love him even more.

Her father had been over the moon when they’d broken the news. He’d pumped Zac’s hand up and down.

And then Zac had jetted off back to Europe, back to running the billion-dollar shipping company he’d inherited from his grandfather. And, although an ocean had separated them, they’d spoken on the phone every day. Morning for him. Night for her in New Zealand. During those long conversations, Pandora had come to know the man she’d fallen in love with. There’d been two more lightning-swift visits. And, finally last week she’d flown to Athens for five days of playing tourist in the city with Zac at her side. It had all culminated in the Big Day.

Today.

Now, as they moved forward into the massive arched entrance of Zac’s home accepting congratulations, Pandora recognised some of the faces. She was kissed on the cheek by a famous Hollywood actress and her equally famous husband, a singer in a rock band. Several legendary businessmen wished her and Zac well, and she smiled at a star footballer and his fashion-icon wife.

Inside the huge house she glimpsed a European prince and his popular Australian wife, a socialite who’d sprung to fame from a television-reality show, and several stunning supermodels stood out from the crowd. Pandora’s sense of inadequacy grew.

Her mouth dry with nerves, she allowed Zac to lead her to the dais where the wedding table was set with silver cutlery and exquisite antique crockery.

And still the congratulations didn’t stop. People streamed past the table in a blur of faces. There was no time for intimacy as distant members of Zac’s family, his colleagues and acquaintances smiled at her, until Pandora was sure that everyone in the room wanted a good look at her.

Did she measure up? Or had they expected more from the woman Zac married? The thought was daunting.

She searched the crowded tables. Evie and Helen, two of her school friends from St. Catherine’s, were out there somewhere. For a decade the girls had been cloistered together in the strict boarding school in the backcountry. Except for vacations, Pandora had spent most of her life at St. Catherine’s until leaving a few months before her eighteenth birthday three years ago. Since then, apart from a couple of vacations with friends’ families, she’d helped her father at High Ridge.

Pandora felt terrible that she hadn’t had a chance to greet her friends. She would search them out later, she told herself, looking at the sheer number of people with worried eyes. Even if they didn’t see her, they’d forgive her. Understand that tonight her priority was her husband.

“Here comes Basil Makrides with his wife, Daphne,” Zac murmured. “He’s a business associate.”

Pandora turned to smile at the couple. After the Makrideses moved off, there was a small lull.

“Where’s your sister? I haven’t met her yet.” Pandora had hoped to meet his sister before the wedding ceremony. Had craved company while the skilled hairdresser styled her hair and a makeup artist tended to her face and the dressmaker who’d altered the wedding dress fussed in the wardrobe. It would’ve been nice to have Zac’s sister there … or even the cousin or aunt he’d spoken about. To assure herself that they would like her.

That she would get on with them.

Zac’s face darkened. “My sister didn’t make the wedding. There was a problem.”

Pandora took in his tightly drawn mouth. “Is she … ill?” She probed carefully.

“Nothing like that.” Zac’s tone was abrupt. “It need not concern you. She’ll be coming later.”

Pandora stiffened. Zac never treated her like some silly little butterfly whose opinions didn’t matter. What was going on here? Was this about her … or was there something about his sister—

“I’m sorry. I was too terse.” Zac’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “My brother-in-law is the problem—he’s not an easy man to be married to.”

“Oh, dear.” Pandora drew her own conclusions. “Your poor sister, married to a brute.”

“He doesn’t beat her. It’s nothing like that.”

“Oh?” This time her tone was loaded with curiosity.

But Zac shook his head. “I don’t want to think about my brother-in-law. Especially not on my wedding day. He makes me angry.”

“We don’t want that.” Pandora rested a hand on his arm. “You tell me about it when you’re ready.”

“You are the perfect wife,” Zac breathed and brushed a row of kisses across the exposed crest of her shoulder, causing the man and woman approaching the table to tease him mercilessly. A camera flashed. Pandora jumped.

“Don’t worry,” Zac murmured close to her ear. “Everyone here tonight has been invited—and vetted. There are no members of the press, only family and friends. Oh, and one professional photographer with a spotless reputation for discretion, who will capture memories of the occasion for us to enjoy.”

The press? Pandora’s stomach balled at the thought. She hadn’t even considered them, with their avid hunger for pictures of her and Zac together.

During the interminable dinner that followed, cameras continued to flash while Zac introduced her to wave upon wave of strangers. Celebrities, business acquaintances, distant cousins, hobbling great-uncles. She could see the curiosity in the women’s eyes, sense the men’s speculation. Why had Zac Kyriakos, given all the choice in the world, married a little nobody from New Zealand? It was a question which Pandora asked herself repeatedly but couldn’t answer. At last she pushed away the nagging feeling that there was something she was missing and let Zac hold her close while he continued to introduce her to their guests.

The first waltz was over.

Pandora stared at the flushed stranger with the sparkling silver eyes in the mirror. Looking away, she picked up a jug and poured herself a glass of chilled water and drank greedily. She’d slipped away to check that her makeup was still intact … to make sure it would withstand the army of cameras that flashed like streaks of lightning across the crowded dance floor, capturing endless images of her and Zac as they circulated the room.

Stroking mascara onto her lashes, Pandora admitted to herself that she found the whole situation overwhelming. How could she explain that despite the enormously rich trust fund that she would come into when she was twenty-five, she found the glamour of Zac’s world—with its famous faces, the constant stares and the unrelenting glare of the cameras—unnerving?

With a sigh, she dropped the tube into her bag and zipped it shut. A last sip of water, then she made her way back to the noise and bright lights and glitz.

“Pandora, over here,” Zac called to her. His height made him easy to find and Pandora threaded her way through the crowd.

“This is my theos Costas—my uncle, my mother’s brother.” Zac introduced her to the man at his side.

Pandora smiled at the older man. Cheery blue eyes twinkled down at her as he took her hand in his.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He lifted her fingers to his lips and brushed a gallant kiss across the tips.

“My uncle is a renowned ladies’ man, so take care.” Zac laughed, his fondness for the older man evident. “I don’t know how Aunt Sophia puts up with it.”

Zac’s uncle shrugged. “She knows she’s the one I love.” The simple words tugged at Pandora’s heart. “You have already met my son.”

Pandora struggled to think who Costas’s son might be.

“Dimitri.”

“Oh, yes.” Relief filtered through her. Zac’s cousin. “He’s the lawyer who drew up the prenuptial and the koum—” she stumbled over the unfamiliar word “—best man,” she amended, “who held the crowns over our heads during the ceremony.”

“Koumbaro,” Zac corrected.

“Yes, koumbaro,” she echoed the Greek word. Zac had explained that, as koumbaro, Dimitri would be godfather to their first child—one day. A wholly unfamiliar feminine quiver shot through her at the thought of a little boy with eyes like Zac. But first she wanted to spend a couple of years alone with her new husband.

“You learn our customs quickly.” Costas looked satisfied. “It has been overwhelming? Meeting so many new people?”

She nodded, grateful for his understanding.

“You can call me Theos—uncle—like Zac does.”

“Thank you, Theos. Zac speaks of you often.” Pandora knew Zac’s uncle had been a father figure to Zac during his teens. A lawyer by profession, Costas had taken an active role on the board of Kyriakos Shipping even though, as Zac’s maternal uncle, he was not a Kyriakos himself. Only when Zac had gained control of the board had his uncle resigned to put all his energy back into his law firm, which he now ran with his daughter, Stacy, and his son, Dimitri. Dimitri ran the Athens office with his father, while Stacy worked in the London office, she recalled. Pandora remembered the respect and love with which Zac had spoken of his uncle during their long nightly transworld calls. “I’m so pleased to meet you,” she said.

“We will talk more tomorrow,” Theos Costas said. He clapped Zac on the shoulder. “Now, my boy, it is time to go dance with your bride.”

“Hey, Zac, it’s your turn to dance.”

The call interrupted Pandora from asking what Costas meant by talking more tomorrow. She glanced around and saw two men approaching, grinning widely.

“Come, Zacharias.”

Zac threw Pandora a rueful glance. “I was hoping to escape this.”

“Not a chance.” The taller of the men chuckled, his hawklike features alight with good humour.

Zac sighed dramatically. “Pandora, meet Tariq and Angelo—more of my cousins.”

Pandora examined them with interest. Zac had spoken about both men with affection and admiration. When his grandfather, Socrates, had died, each of his three grandsons had inherited a sizeable part of his fortune. As the only son of the only son, Zac had inherited the biggest share. But Tariq and Angelo had been well provided for—as had Zac’s sister.

Looking from one man to the other, Pandora could discern small similarities. Not only in the family resemblance in the cast of their features but also in the air of command each of the three radiated.

“Welcome to the family.” It was Angelo who spoke. He had piercing eyes, the colour of the sea, and a crop of golden hair.

Pandora smiled. “Thank you.”

Then Tariq took her by the shoulders and bestowed a kiss on each cheek. “Bring your husband and come and visit Zayad.”

Give us some time alone first,” Zac growled. “We’ll visit in a couple of months.”

Tariq grinned. “Take your time. Now you better go dance.”

Zac whisked her off into a large adjoining room where the ensemble was now playing Greek music and guests swayed in seemingly never-ending counterclockwise spirals. At their appearance a shout went up.

“Zac, here, join in.”

Dimitri beckoned to them.

An opening appeared in the hands. Zac pulled Pandora forward. Then they were part of the swaying, shuffling mass. For the first few minutes it was as if she had two left feet, and she struggled to find the steps to the dance, frowning as she watched Zac’s feet beside her. Right step, cross, right foot point to the back, forward, shuffle and a little hop.

Suddenly the rhythm came, fitting to the strum of the bouzouki on the bandstand. Euphoria swept over her.

She could do this.

As Zac moved, her body mirrored his steps. As his arms went back, hers did, too. As he widened the circle, she went with him and the line behind followed. It was heady stuff.

The music quickened. Zac’s steps quickened. Her feet danced faster and her breath came more rapidly. All around her she could hear a few of the guests singing along in Greek.

She wished she understood the lyrics.

Zac’s hand enfolded her right hand, while on the left she linked hands with Dimitri. The person on the other side of him moved forward. Pandora caught the woman’s eye and they exchanged hectic smiles, then Pandora was concentrating on her feet again, taking care not to lose the rhythm.

The music changed, became softer, slower. She stumbled, Zac’s arm came aroundher, steadying her, then his hand slid down her arm and took her hand again. Heat shot through her. The steps had changed. A frown pleated her forehead. She bit the tip of her tongue and concentrated furiously.

“Let the music take you,” Zac murmured. “Relax. Your body must be fluid like the tide in the sea, not stiff like driftwood.”

Pandora missed the next step.

His fingers shifted under hers. “Loosen your grip on my hand. You’re trying too hard. Listen to the music, feel it ebb and flow through your body.”

Pandora concentrated on the plaintive wail of the singer’s voice.

“She’s singing about her love who went away.” His voice was low. “Each day she waits at the wharf for his boat to return, she is sure he will come back for her.”

The music caught Pandora up. Loss and grief filled the singer’s voice. Tears thickened the back of Pandora’s throat.

“That’s right. Now you have it.” Zac sounded triumphant.

Pandora jerked back to reality.

She was following the steps. “How on earth did that happen?” she asked, amazed.

“Greek music comes from the heart. The dancing translates the music. Your body must feel the music.” His gaze held hers. “It is easy. It’s about what you feel. Don’t make it difficult by thinking about technique, about complex things. Just feel the emotion. The joy of love, the pain of betrayal. The steps will follow.”

A warm flush of accomplishment filled her. The music flowed through her, her feet shifted, her body sequayed forward as she followed Zac.

Again the music changed.

The line broke apart.

Zac tugged her hand. “We’ll sit this one out.” A waiter materialised with a tray of champagne flutes and tall glasses of ice water. “Would you like a drink? Champagne?”

She was hot and thirsty from the effort of the dancing. “Just water, please.”

Zac handed her a glass. She sipped, the ice bumping against her top lip. Placing the empty glass on a passing tray, she said, “That was wonderful.”

“Come, let’s go somewhere cooler.” He guided her, skirting the edge of the room. “You picked up the steps easily.”

She laughed up at him. “Not easily. You’ll have to teach me more—when we’re alone.” If that ever happened.

His mouth curved. “Perhaps on our honeymoon, hmm?” He led her through the open French doors. Outside, the night air was warm and stars studded the black velvet sky. Zac reached up and tore off the bow tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

Her heartbeat picked up. “So we’re going to have a honeymoon? Some time together? Totally alone?”

“Oh, yes.” He leaned against a pillar and, reaching out, pulled her toward him, his eyes darkening. “Totally alone. I think we deserve it.”

“Where are we going?”

“I will surprise you. Suffice to say there will be sun, sea and only Georgios and Maria, the couple who look after the villa.”

Excitement thrummed through her. “I can’t wait. When do we go?”

“Tomorrow,” Zac’s voice turned husky. “I, too, can’t wait.”

Inside, the music had stopped.

There was an instant of simmering silence. She could feel Zac’s gaze, intense, waiting.

Waiting for her to move. To do something. Say something. She did not know what he expected. So she did what she wanted. She rose on tiptoe, pressed her lips against his … and the fire caught. Zac moaned, his lips parting under hers.

His mouth was hot and hungry.

Distantly she could hear the next song starting. She blocked it all out. And concentrated on Zac. On that taunting, teasing mouth that she couldn’t get enough of.

Then Zac was straightening. “This isn’t the place for this. Anyone could see us. Come.” He tugged her hand.

“Zac, we can’t just leave,” Pandora protested, casting a frantic glance back inside.

“Of course we can.” He stopped. His gaze was hot, stripping away thought, leaving nothing but a raw awareness of his strength, his masculinity. Perspiration added a sexy sheen to those sculpted cheekbones and his mouth curved in a wickedly hungry smile. “Why should we stay one more minute when we both want to leave?”

“Because …” Pandora tried to summon her objections, to search desperately for a reason. But all she could think of was the way the silk shirt clung to his damp body. His body. Staring at the bare slice of skin at his throat, she swallowed, then said halfheartedly, “Because it’s our wedding and we haven’t cut the cake.”

He shrugged. “The cake can wait. We can cut it at lunch tomorrow. Now come.” Zac gave her hand an impatient tug.

“Lunch?” She stopped.

“For my family. To present my bride to them.” He pulled her to him and linked his arms behind her back.

“Oh.” She’d thought that once tonight was over she’d have Zac to herself. That from tomorrow they’d be alone. On their honeymoon, as he’d promised, without hordes of people and bodyguards. Obviously not. Enfolded in the circle of his arms, she still felt compelled to ask, “I thought we were going on honeymoon?”

“Afterward.” He shot her a rakish smile, his face close to hers. “Be patient, wife. You haven’t had a chance to meet my family—you told me that yourself. I’ve hogged you to myself for five whole days. But the whole clan are here—it will be a while before they’ll get together again. I thought we’d take the opportunity to let you get to know them a little outside the crush of the wedding.”

“I see.” Instantly, she felt contrary, confused. She wanted to be alone with Zac. But she also wanted to meet his family, his best friends. She wanted to have a chance to talk with Angelo and Tariq and get to know them better. She wanted to ask Dimitri and Stacy what Zac had been like as a little boy. And she wanted to meet his sister.

She wanted them to approve of her.

Zac was quite right. She should meet them. Tomorrow. Nerves started to churn in her stomach. “What if they don’t like me?”

One hand came forward and tipped her chin up. “How can they not? You’re perfect.” His teeth glittered in the dim light, and she made out the glimmer of steel in his eyes. “Who would dare question my judgement?”

Her stomach churned some more. Jeez, she was far from perfect. Had Zac set her up on some sort of pedestal? She licked suddenly dry lips. What if his sister hated her? Zac would not tolerate anyone questioning his choice of bride.

Pandora bit her lip and told herself it would be okay. She was the chosen bride of Zac Kyriakos. His family would accept her or face the consequences. They would love her.

As Zac did.

They had to. She’d do her best to make it happen. And what she couldn’t get right, Zac would sort out. She snuggled closer. Sometimes she forgot his power. Sometimes he was simply Zac, the man she adored.

“Stop worrying, everything will be okay.” His head dipped and his lips met hers. Pandora’s breasts brushed his chest and all her concerns vanished. All she could think of was Zac … his hungry mouth, the strength in the hard arms around her, holding her close, making every atom in her body vibrate with longing.

He tore his mouth away and drew a gasping breath of air. “Now can we leave?”

“Yes.” She sighed.