The Greek's Ready-Made Wife. Jennifer Faye
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grip on his briefcase. “I’ll have a car at your disposal. Feel free to visit any of the local villages or the library in Athens.”
She pressed her hands to her hips. “I thought you’d be accompanying me. You know, to help search for my family.”
He recalled saying something along those lines, but he just didn’t have time today. “Sorry. I’ve got a meeting in the city with a banker.”
“And tomorrow?”
Tomorrow he had more meetings planned. He couldn’t even get away from the demands on his time in this fake relationship. It just made him all the more determined to retain his independence.
“Cristo?”
“Fine. I’ll check my calendar and get back to you after today’s meeting.”
She nodded.
Before he walked away, he might as well find out what this venture would entail. “What information do you have to go on?” His phone buzzed. “Hold on.” He checked the screen. “My car is here. I must go. I’ll look at what you have this evening.”
As he rushed out the door, his thoughts circled back around to the sight of Kyra in those black shorts that showed off her tanned legs. Even her toenails had been painted a sparkly pink. And then there was that snug tank top that showed off her curves.
His footsteps hesitated. Maybe he should have offered to go running with her. Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he inwardly groaned. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—let his beautiful new fiancée distract him from achieving his goal.
He was so close to forging a deal to purchase the Stravos Star Hotels. It was just a matter of time until he heard back from Nikolaos Stravos about that invitation Cristo had extended for a business meeting. That steamy kiss in the newspaper, with the headline of Cristo Kiriakas is Off the Market, should have done the trick.
* * *
Her lungs strained.
Her muscles burned.
At last Kyra stopped running. Each breath came in rapid succession.
She leaned back against the stone wall lining the walkway in front of the resort. She knew she should have run first thing that morning instead of putting it off. But she’d become so engrossed with the wedding magazines that she’d found herself flipping through one glossy page after the next. When she got to the tuxes, she imagined Cristo in each of them. The man was so handsome that he would look good in most anything. She wasn’t quite so fortunate with her broad hips and short legs. It took a certain kind of dress to hide her imperfections.
By late that afternoon, she’d felt pent-up and her head ached. She had more questions about the wedding than answers. What she needed was to talk with Cristo. She knew the wedding would never actually take place, but he’d insisted they were going for authenticity and to pull that off she needed some answers.
When she made her way back to the suite, she called out to him, “Cristo? Cristo, are you here?”
There wasn’t a sound. Drat.
She moved to the bar where he’d left her his cell number. She entered it in her phone in order to send him a text message.
Mop&Glow007 (Kyra): I have some questions about the wedding. Will you be home soon?
She figured it wouldn’t be too long before he responded as he seemed to have his phone glued to his palm. She imagined him falling asleep with it in his hands. Then again, she could easily imagine something else in his hands...um, make that someone else in his very capable hands. And this time, they wouldn’t be putting on a show.
She jerked her thoughts to a halt. She was already hot and sweaty from her run. No need to further torture herself.
Her phone chimed.
CristoKiriakasCEO: Meeting has turned into dinner. Will be late. Don’t wait up.
Just like that she’d been dismissed. Forgotten. Frustration bubbled in her veins. Cristo was just like the other men her mother had paraded through her life.
Mop&Glow007 (Kyra): Don’t worry. I won’t.
Her finger hovered over the send button. But then she realized she was being childish. It wasn’t as if they were a real couple. This was all make-believe, thankfully. Her heart went out to any poor woman who actually fell for Cristo’s stunning good looks and charming smile. He would forget her, too.
Kyra deleted her heated comment and instead wrote, Have a good night.
She told herself she should be happy. It’d give her quiet time to study for her hotel management accreditation. She hated to admit it, but she was woefully behind. Getting ready to move across the Atlantic had been her priority and then she’d been focused on learning her new position at the Blue Tide Resort.
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