Bought For Marriage. Margaret Mayo
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there in front of them was the ocean. Tiered down to it was a series of swimming pools and sun decks, some sheltered by palms and other plants, others bearing the full brunt of the hot summer sun. It was paradise.
‘You have a perfect home,’ she told him reluctantly.
‘And it’s going to be your home as well,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘Do you still think you’re getting a bad deal?’
‘As far as my emotions go, yes,’ she told him truthfully. ‘But as far as my senses are concerned, this is sheer heaven.’ Her own home with her father was very beautiful but it would never match up to this. They had a pool, yes, but quite a small one in comparison, and they certainly didn’t have a sea view. Her father would be as jealous as hell if he only knew.
And she must remember that it was for her father that she was doing this. He was the one forcing her to live in this idyllic spot. Maybe it was wise if she didn’t tell him.
‘I’m glad you approve; it’s half the battle. Let’s get down to business, shall we?’
They returned indoors and in his study, a cool, air-conditioned room with very little in the way of furniture apart from a hugely functional desk and a couple of chairs, he handed her a sheet of paper.
Dione sat and read it and she was satisfied. He was demanding nothing from her that she was not prepared to give, apart from her time. The contract was to run for twelve months from the day they married, and after that she was free to leave. He would divorce her without question and he would deposit into her father’s bank account, the day after their marriage, whatever sum of money Yannis needed to build up his business again.
It was a very generous agreement under the circumstances, thought Dione. Theo was getting nothing out of it and it was costing him dear. There had to be a catch in it somewhere. But she read it through three times and it was all very straightforward. She took the pen he offered and signed. Theo countersigned.
And it was all done.
On Sunday she would become his wife.
All she hoped was that her father appreciated exactly what she was doing for him.
The day dawned with a cloudless blue sky and a hot sun powering down on them. Dione had still not telephoned her mother. She wanted to protect her parent, not let her worry and fear that in some incalculable way Yannis still had a hold over her. Jeannie never said much about him but Dione knew that she sometimes feared that her past would come back to haunt her.
And Dione had not seen Theo again either. A special delivery had revealed a stunning wedding dress in ivory silk and every accessory she would need to go with it. Dione guessed there had been some collusion with Phrosini because how could he have possibly known her size?
But she did not question her stepmother; she saw no point in it. The deed was done. She was to become Theo’s wife and that was that. Personally she would have worn an oyster-coloured suit that was her favourite; now she was being forced to dress up as though it were a real wedding and she and Theo were very much in love.
Through the grapevine she’d heard that a whole host of guests had been invited. They were getting married in the hospital chapel so that Yannis could be present. No doubt, thought Dione bitterly, he wanted to make doubly sure that she wouldn’t run away at the last minute.
Which was extremely tempting.
It was all very emotional and when finally, at a few minutes past three, she became Theo’s wife, Dione burst into tears. Everyone cheered and clapped and no one knew, except for Phrosini and Yannis, that it was not a real wedding.
‘You’re very beautiful, Mrs Tsardikos,’ said Theo softly as they walked out of the chapel that had been decked with a myriad of flowers tied with soft satin ribbons and looked charming.
‘I don’t feel it,’ she said, so quietly that no one else heard. ‘I feel a fraud.’
‘I won’t allow you to say that,’ he announced curtly, taking her hand and squeezing it. ‘To the outside world you are the beautiful girl who has captured Theo Tsardikos’ heart. You will become quite famous, agapi mou.’
Dione groaned inwardly. She hadn’t realised how much of a stir Theo’s marriage would cause. She had hoped—she had prayed, in fact—that it would be a quiet affair, but the guests had poured into the hospital, overflowing into corridors, and congratulations had fallen thick and fast.
The reception was being held at Theo’s villa and they made their way now in streams of cars that ferried people across the city. The gardens and terraces were decked with flowers and garlands, a band played and exquisite food was served.
Theo made a speech saying what a lucky man he was and Dione blushed her way through it. Theo’s parents told her that she had made their son a very happy man, and his sister, Alexandra, couldn’t quite believe it either.
‘I never thought that Theo would marry again after what happened,’ she said to Dione. ‘In fact, he swore he wouldn’t. You must be someone very special to get him to change his mind.’
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