His Shock Marriage In Greece. Jane Porter
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Sounio were the stuff of legends.
“Perhaps we should just dispense with this farce now,” Damen said, his back still to her, his gaze fixed on the sea.
“Perhaps,” she agreed serenely, grateful he couldn’t see her hard jaw and how hurt and frustration welled. “I won’t call you a coward if you do.”
He turned suddenly, facing her. Temper blazed in his eyes. “I have done my part,” he gritted. “I invested in Dukas Shipping. I sorted out your father’s legal entanglements. I put aside my mistresses and waited patiently, celibately for your sister—”
“That was obviously a mistake.”
“You’re not helping your case, kitten.”
“I don’t think anything can. Because surely you don’t want my sympathy, do you?” He didn’t answer and her firm chin rose higher. “Maybe you should’ve spent more time with your future bride to make sure she was the right bride.”
“Your father assured me Elexis was the right bride.”
“And there is the root of all our problems. You trusted my father.” Her full lips curved, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The world thinks you’re smarter than that.”
He stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “That does not sound very complimentary for a daughter to say of the father.”
“Or for a bride to say of her new husband—”
“I wasn’t going to say it.”
She shrugged, and plucked at yet another pearl on her gown. “I’m a realist, I always have been.” Kassiani drew a breath before continuing, her words cool and measured. “And I know who my family are. I know their strengths. I know their weaknesses.” Her eyebrows flattened, her expression turning pensive. “Personally, I would not have gone into business with them. And I certainly wouldn’t have climbed into bed with them. But you wanted the West Coast of North America. You wanted the ships and the ports and the agreements, and now you have them.”
He walked back toward her, closing the distance with quiet, measured strides. Kassiani tried not to shrink as he stood directly before her, so tall that she had to tip her head back to see his face.
“You do not think highly of me,” he said quietly.
Her heart did a painful double beat even as something like desire curled in her belly. The butterflies were back, but they weren’t from fear. “I think you have underestimated the Dukas family.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She hesitated for a long moment before looking up into his eyes. “I wouldn’t marry a man I didn’t hold in high esteem.”
He stared down at her for even longer. “I’m not much for parties, either. We’ll skip the reception and leave now.”
DAMEN LED HER down stairs at the back of the villa, the hidden nature of the staircase indicating they were for the staff, before exiting the villa through a plain door, arriving into the villa’s kitchen garden. They passed through herbs and fruit trees, and then turned left at an impressive beehive where they headed away from the orchard to a narrow path leading toward the water.
The path led to steep narrow stairs, and once down the wooden staircase they reached a simple dock, where a speedboat waited.
The driver of the boat offered her a hand in order to assist her into the boat, but Damen swept her into his arms and lifted her over the side, placing her inside on her feet.
She swayed in her heels, and immediately found the nearest seat.
Damen sat down opposite her and they were off, slowly at first and then picking up speed as they put distance between them and land.
The wind grabbed at her veil and Kassiani gripped the edge of her seat with one hand and tried to control her heavy veil with the other. From the water she could see the estate and villa. The estate was large, and one of the oldest on this part of the Athenian coast. The villa had been built facing the water, ensuring every room a sweeping view of the turquoise sea and the Temple of Poseidon on the hill across the water.
From their vantage point in the water, the garden glowed with soft golden white light, with fairy lights strung in trees, and candelabras glimmering on the two dozen tables, while chandeliers inside the house emphasized the high ceilings and striking architecture. From here, the wedding reception looked downright magical, and Kassiani felt a pang of regret—this wasn’t the wedding the guests had come for.
She tried to imagine their reaction when they discovered that the bride and groom were gone. She wondered how the evening would even go. Would anyone stay for the dinner once they realized there was no bride and groom? Or would others linger and dine and drink and take advantage of the splendid setting? She couldn’t help thinking that there would be some who were grateful there would be no toasts, no speeches, no protracted dinner courses. And she was certain there were others, those who truly loved Damen, who would be confused, and worried.
The wedding really turned out to be a shambles.
What had Damen called it? A farce? A charade?
She felt a twinge of guilt followed by fresh anxiety. This was all so crazy, she hadn’t really wrapped her head around anything that had taken place today. And now they were jetting off, but she had no idea where they were going. But as the cape fell farther behind, the boat suddenly slowed, drawing close to an enormous yacht in the bay, and then the engine turned off as they reached the yacht ladder at the back. Crew stood on a small platform awaiting them.
“Let’s get your shoes off,” Damen said. “I’d rather you not try to climb the stairs in those ridiculous shoes. How high are those heels anyway?”
“Too high,” she admitted, grateful to remove the shoes that had pinched her feet all afternoon.
Once they were off, Damen swung Kassiani into his arms and lifted her out, placing her on the platform. “Can you manage the stairs in that dress?” he asked.
“What are my options? Removing the dress here?” she answered.
He growled. “No.”
She almost laughed. “Then yes, I can manage the stairs in this dress.”
* * *
Her father’s yacht had been built for her mother. And her father had never understood her mother’s taste, and so the yacht had been over-the-top feminine with cream walls and gilded surfaces, floral tapestries and upholstery with horrendous columns everywhere to make the interior look like a Greek temple. Kassiani had found the superyacht garish and unappealing and she’d hated the few times her parents—she never knew which—decided they must all do a Mediterranean cruise together, trapping them on the yacht. She’d hated yachts and boats ever since, and held her breath as she was led up and down staircases and then down a narrow paneled hall toward bedrooms.
She wasn’t sure if she was being taken to a master bedroom or just any bedroom, but when the uniformed staff opened a door and stepped back for her to enter, she was fairly certain it was the master bedroom by the fact that half the room was all floor-to-ceiling walls and glass doors with a private deck and a jaw-dropping view of the Temple of Poseidon, which had now been lit for the night and the dozens of majestic columns glowed yellow. The ancient ruins were beyond beautiful and she was drawn to the view, opening one set of the French doors to step out onto the deck.
And then on the opposite side of the bay, a villa and its grand gardens glimmered with light, competing for attention. Damen’s villa.
For the first time since arriving in Greece, she felt the pull of Greece. Or maybe it was the stirring of her own Greek blood, recognizing that she’d come home. Her chest suddenly ached and she put a hand