Bought For Marriage. Margaret Mayo

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Bought For Marriage - Margaret  Mayo


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bet you were,’ she snapped. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at me. But don’t forget, we shall have a piece of paper forbidding you to touch. And heaven help you if you renege.’

      What a spirited person she was. What an exciting woman. His male hormones danced all over the place. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he said slowly, levelly. ‘Anything in that direction will have to come from you.’

      ‘Then you’ll wait till hell freezes over,’ she tossed cruelly.

      He folded his arms across his chest, dropped his head to one side and studied her. ‘You’re amazing, do you know that?’

      ‘Amazing?’ she scoffed. ‘I’m simply telling you how it is. This is a business contract. Nothing more, nothing less, and you’d best remember it.’

      ‘I will remember,’ he told her. Whatever happened between him and this intriguing young lady, whether they made a success of the marriage—wishful thinking—or it failed abysmally—more like it—it would stay in his memory for the rest of his life.

      ‘Good,’ she snapped, standing up, and with another flash of her lovely dark eyes she headed for the door.

      He did not want to let her go yet—he wanted her to stay, to talk some more; he wanted to get to know this gorgeous creature better. But sanity told him to take things easy. In any case, she had to come back to sign the new contract. His lips quirked at the pleasure of seeing her again so soon. Perhaps at his home rather than here, where they could talk longer, get to know each other better.

      And then on Sunday—she would be his!

      He had a lot to organise, a lot of arrangements to make. No time to detain her. He walked to the door and bade her goodbye. ‘Till later, Dione. I’ll ring you when the contract’s ready. Will you be home?’

      Dione glared into his face. ‘I have no idea.’

      ‘Then give me your mobile number.’ He half expected her to refuse; was surprised when she wrote it down without argument. He tucked the slip of paper into his pocket and held out his hand. She ignored it, spinning on her heel and rushing out of the office as though all the hounds in hell were chasing her.

      Theo smiled to himself. He was rarely short of female company but no woman had appealed to him as Dione Keristari did now. She had turned up under the most distressing of situations; she’d been forced to approach him by her demanding father, but beneath her hostility, beneath the fear she had felt when confronting him, was a beautiful woman simply waiting to be loved.

      Dione marched out of the office building with her mind in torment. Theo wanted from her exactly what she’d feared. A wife in every sense of the word! Thank goodness she’d been able to talk him around; though in actual fact she wasn’t totally convinced that he would keep his word. He was the sort of guy who if you gave him an inch would take a mile.

      Not wanting to go back to the hospital yet, she took herself into the village where they lived near Athens, sat outside a café and ordered coffee.

      It was hard to believe that Theo Tsardikos had expected her to become his wife in every sense of the word right from the moment the ring was put on her finger. Had he no idea what it would be like to let a complete stranger make love to her? She couldn’t even visualise letting it happen.

      No, if he didn’t stick to his side of the bargain, she would walk away from the marriage regardless. And if Tsardikos demanded his money back then her father would have to find someone else to dig him out of the mire he’d got himself into. It was as simple as that.

      Or so she told herself. In fact it wasn’t. She couldn’t let her father down. She had let herself down by agreeing to this marriage, but if Theo drew up the contract in accordance with her request then she couldn’t see anything going wrong. He was a man of his word, she felt sure, and, although he might enjoy goading her, he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do.

      How long she sat there drinking coffee Dione wasn’t sure. A few people she knew paused to pass the time of day but by and large she sat there alone and tried to digest the very big step that she was going to take.

      She had to phone her mother, of course. And Chris. But it wasn’t something she was looking forward to. Procrastination would be the name of the game here. Maybe after the marriage? When it was a fait accompli and they could do nothing about it. Was that too awful of her? But how could she tell them right at this very minute, when she had never felt so vulnerable in her life?

      She had been driven into a corner by two scheming men, both of them as bad as the other. Twelve months was a lifetime when you weren’t happy. It was a prison sentence. Her head spun and she sat there for hours until Spiros, the owner, came to ask whether she was all right.

      ‘Dione, you sit here so long. You look very troubled.’

      She had known him virtually all her life and smiled wanly. ‘My father’s ill,’ she declared. ‘I’m worried about him.’ If only it were that simple.

      ‘I am sorry. Please—give him my best wishes. I hope he is better soon.’

      ‘Me too, Spiros. Me too.’

      The phone call came sooner than she expected and her heart jerked into overdrive at the sound of Theo’s deep, warm voice.

      ‘Dione, it is time. I will pick you up. Where are you?’

      ‘No!’ She almost spat the word. ‘There’s no need. I will come to your office.’

      ‘I’m at home,’ he told her, and Dione’s heart sank.

      ‘You—you want me to come to your house?’ How awful would that be!

      ‘I thought you would be more relaxed.’

      ‘If you think I’ll ever be relaxed marrying an arrogant beast like you then you’re very much mistaken,’ she told him boldly.

      Theo laughed. ‘What a charming vocabulary you have.’ And then his voice hardened. ‘I repeat, where are you?’

      Best not get on the wrong side of him, at least not until the money was safely in her father’s bank account, thought Dione. ‘I’m at Spiros’ Café. Do you know it?’

      ‘No.’

      She hadn’t thought he would. It was not the sort of place he would use. ‘Give me your address and I’ll find my way there,’ she suggested coolly.

      Theo made some sort of disagreeable grunting noise. ‘Take a taxi. I’ll see you soon.’

      His villa was as large and impressive as she had imagined it would be, with the usual white stucco walls and red roofs but approached by a long drive and guarded like a fortress. She let the taxi drop her off at the gates and didn’t buzz to announce her arrival until the vehicle had gone. Then she walked up the drive, lined on each side by olive trees, and saw Theo waiting for her.

      He had changed from his business suit into a pair of casual trousers and a white shirt that stretched across a broad, powerful chest previously hidden to her enquiring eyes. His arms were muscular and tanned and he looked like a man who wasn’t afraid of hard work. He also looked younger and less formidable but Dione knew that she must still be wary of him. This wasn’t a social visit; this was business with a capital B.

      Never had Dione felt more like turning and running. In two days’ time this would be her home. She would live here with Theo; she would be his wife in the eyes of the law and every one of his acquaintances. But not in her eyes; never in her eyes! The marriage would never be consummated.

      It was too embarrassing by far to ever tell anyone the real reason she was marrying Theo. For twelve months she would act as she’d never acted before, she would carry out her father’s wishes, but she would walk away at the end of it with her head held high, confident in the knowledge that Theo Tsardikos had not had his evil way with her.

      The villa was spacious and airy and expensive—and beautifully


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