His Shock Marriage In Greece

* * *

They signed the registry in the chapel’s antechamber. Damen gritted his teeth, angry beyond measure as it struck him that the worst part of this—no, not the worst but yet another negative among negatives—was that he didn’t even know his new wife’s name. “So who have I married, if not Elexis?” he ground out as the priest handed him a pen.

Her long lace veil had been folded back on the top of her head and she glanced at him but looked away, unable to hold his furious gaze. He felt a tightness in his chest as her ridiculously long black lashes dropped, concealing her eyes.

“Kassiani,” she said huskily.

He felt angrier by the moment. His fingers itched to smash something hard—like the narrow table, or the nearest stone wall. “That wasn’t the name in the ceremony.”

“No, the priest used my legal first name, Petra, but no one calls me Petra. I’m either Kass or Kassiani.”

He ground his teeth together, not just upset with her, but with himself for not having walked out of the service when he could. Why had he let her apology sway him? Why had her whispered words kept him from leaving her there at the altar?

He didn’t know the answers to any of those questions, and he wasn’t in the frame of mind to sort it out. “Do not think this is over,” he said curtly after signing his name and handing the pen to her.

She looked up at him as she accepted the pen, a faint line between her arched eyebrows, expression troubled. “I don’t.”

“Was this always the plan, to swap sisters on the unsuspecting groom?”

Color suffused her pale cheeks. “No.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t want you.”

The pink color swiftly faded from her face. Her full lips compressed as she drew a slow breath and then she managed an unsteady laugh. “Understood.”

“I’m not trying to be offensive.”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze then, her eyes locking with his. “No offense taken.”

In any other circumstances, he thought he would have liked her. She was direct and smart and articulate. But this wasn’t a casual conversation. He’d just been played and he wasn’t in the most charitable frame of mind. “I’m not one to forgive and forget.”

* * *

He saw a shadow pass across her face, and he almost felt sorry for her, but then the shadow disappeared, leaving her expression calm and composed. “And as you can see, I’m not one to pass up a slice of cake, or a bit of a chocolate.” Then she leaned over the registry and added her name, her long lace veil spilling across her shoulder in a waterfall of white. When she’d finished, she straightened and squared her shoulders and handed back the pen. “It seems we all have our crosses to bear.”

He didn’t know if it was her words, or her ridiculous bravado, but he felt a rush of intense emotion—emotion he didn’t welcome—and drew her hard against him, tilting her chin back with one hand before covering her mouth, capturing it with his. She was petite, barely reaching his shoulder, and impossibly warm and soft, which made his kiss harder, and fiercer. It wasn’t the kiss a man should give his young bride, but nothing about this wedding was right.

* * *

Upstairs in the luxurious villa bedroom Kassiani had dressed in earlier, she walked back and forth, chewing on a knuckle, trying to calm herself.

He didn’t want her, and he didn’t like her, and she had a feeling this could all still fall apart any moment.

The vows wouldn’t hold, not unless the marriage was consummated, and she couldn’t imagine him taking her to his bed right now. Quite frankly, she didn’t want to be in his bed, either, and she shuddered remembering his coldness as he’d told her he didn’t forgive and forget.

She didn’t doubt him.

Which was why she was here in the bedroom, hiding. She’d lost her nerve. Somehow she’d found the necessary courage this morning to take Elexis’s place for the ceremony, but that courage was gone.

Thank God the ceremony had been small and private. No one but the immediate family attended. However, the reception was large, with hundreds of guests flying in from all over the world to witness the marriage of Elexis Dukas and Damen Alexopoulos.

Kassiani stopped pacing to double over, wanting to throw up as she imagined appearing at the reception. The guests would laugh when they saw her. It was one thing to be Elexis in private, hidden beneath layers of thick lace. It was another to be Elexis in front of those who knew her sister best.

Kass couldn’t imagine joining Damen on the terrace for dinner, or dancing, or cutting of the cake. She’d convinced herself she could do this—but she’d thought only about the ceremony and vows. She hadn’t taken in the terror of appearing in public as his new wife.

His wife.

Kassiani’s legs buckled and she dropped onto the edge of the bed, her full skirts billowing up around her, her feet aching from her stupid shoes.

What had she done?

She was wiping away tears when her bedroom door suddenly opened and Damen entered her room.

He hadn’t even knocked. He’d simply barged in.

Her head jerked up, her lips parting in surprise, but she uttered no protest. His fierce expression silenced anything she might have said.

She waited for him to speak.

He didn’t.

He simply stared at her, and the silence was unbearable. A tremor coursed through her.

Time slowed to a crawl. The seconds felt like minutes. She tried to meet his gaze but his scathing look of contempt was more than she could endure in that moment. “Please say something,” she finally murmured.

“Our guests have been waiting.”

Again she pictured the stone terrace filled with linen-draped tables and gleaming candelabras. The reception was a sophisticated palette of cream, bisque and white and Kassiani did not belong there. It wasn’t her wedding. They weren’t her guests. This wasn’t her party. “I couldn’t go down.”

“Am I to bring the guests up to you?”

“No. Please don’t.”

“Do you want to be carried down?”

“No.” She couldn’t look at him. Her eyes burned. What had seemed so brave and necessary this morning now seemed like the worst idea imaginable.

“It’s a little late to turn coward.”

She hung her head. “I agree.”

Silence stretched. The room was so quiet she could hear his low, irritated exhale. “If you’re expecting sympathy—”

“I’m not.”

“Good. This is your own fault.”

She started to speak, but then closed her mouth, pressing her lips together. He was right, of course. How could she argue the point?

“You can’t just sit up here all night,” he added after a moment.

She plucked at a pearl embroidered into the skirt of her gown. “I’m not much of a party person. I never have been.”

“Even if it’s your own wedding?”

“As we both know, it wasn’t supposed to be.”

“Therein lies the problem.”

She briefly met his gaze, her breath catching in her throat before she swiftly averted her head, blood rushing to her cheeks.

He made her so nervous. He was nothing like her father or brother. He was nothing like anyone she’d ever known before.

“How did you think this would go?” he asked, his tone shifting, less harsh, almost mild.

The change in tone surprised her, but still she couldn’t speak.

Kassiani bit her lip, unable to answer.

“Truthfully,” he prompted.

Her shoulders twisted. She hated this helpless, pathetic feeling. She hated feeling like a failure. She hadn’t married him to be a failure. “I didn’t think about the reception and the guests. To be honest, this part didn’t even cross my mind. It was just the ceremony...and then...” She drew a quick breath and lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. “...the rest.”

“And what was the rest?”

“Being a proper wife.” She could see from the cynical glint in his eyes that he didn’t believe her. “I understand what wives do. Your comfort is my responsibility—”

“Your father told you this?”

“I’m a Greek woman. I know what Greek men expect.”

There was something in his dark, speculative gaze that made her skin prickle and her pulse lurch, and she didn’t know how to manage so many new and strange feelings at the same time.

“Go on, then.”

She swallowed hard, trying not to betray just how nervous she felt. “Besides taking care of you, I’m to manage your home...or homes. I’m to provide you with children. And I understand and accept those responsibilities.”

“It seems one of the Dukas daughters is dutiful, then.”

“Elexis and I have different strengths.”

“She likes parties.”

“She would have enjoyed the reception, yes.”

“And the photographers.”

“The camera loves her.”

“What did your father do to convince you to take your sister’s place?”

Her brow creased. “Excuse me?”

“Did he threaten you? Or was there a bribe involved? How did he get you to walk down the aisle and go through this whole...charade?”

“It’s not a charade. I married you.” She paused, gathering herself. “Of my own volition.”

“So you volunteered?”

“No. I didn’t volunteer. This isn’t exactly a volunteer position.”

He made a rough sound in the back of his throat and Kassiani calmly added, “But when my father presented me the...situation... I agreed that it was a problem and my family was indebted to you. It wouldn’t be right for the Dukases to humiliate you. So I agreed to take Elexis’s place so that the merger of businesses and families could still take place.”

“Wasn’t there a saint named Kassiani?”

“She was a hymnographer, not a virgin bride.”

He gave her another long look. “I’m to be grateful the Dukas virgin has been forced onto me?”

She winced but refused to dwell on his sarcasm. “You’re not being forced into anything. You can annul this afternoon’s ceremony. Tomorrow. The next day. The day after.” Her chin lifted. “As long as we don’t consummate the marriage, you’re free to annul this marriage at any time.”

“Is that what you’re hoping I’ll do?”

“No. I said vows today and I intend to keep them. It is my expectation that we’ll consummate the marriage tonight.”

“And if I don’t feel like falling into bed with...you?”

A lump filled her throat. She was aware of how disappointing she was as a woman. She could never compare, or compete, with Elexis. But she was still a woman and she had feelings. And hopes. And dreams. “I will do my best to make you want me.”

The glance he shot her seemed laced with scorn and then he walked away from her, crossing the room to stand at the window, which faced the sea and the ancient Temple of Poseidon, which glowed golden in the setting sun. Tonight promised to be yet another spectacular sunset. Sunsets on Cape 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.”

CHAPTER TWO

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 to her breast, pressing against the pain, overwhelmed by emotion.

What had she done?

“Second thoughts?” Damen’s deep voice sounded behind her.

She turned suddenly, and struggled to smile but failed. “I don’t know that I’d call them second thoughts, but certainly, this view gives me pause.” Her head tipped as she studied him. “And you? Buyer’s remorse?”

“You’re a woman, not livestock. I haven’t bought you.”

“But I’m not the woman you wanted.”

He didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“I don’t blame you for being disappointed. Elexis is stunning.”

“She looks like your mother.”

Kassiani stifled the pain. “And I take after Dad.” She was grateful her voice sounded light, and breezy. She’d never want him to know how much it hurt being the Dukas her father called “pitiful.”

“I didn’t choose Elexis for her beauty.”

Kassiani smiled politely. She didn’t believe him for a moment. “Either way, I suppose it’s a moot point now, isn’t it?”

He looked from her to the Cape of Sounio, glowing gold with its famous marble temple built in 440 BC. It was remarkable that so much of the ancient temple remained.

“Did she ever intend to marry me?” he asked quietly.

Yes. No. Kass drew a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Elexis is a bit of an enigma.”

“So there is more than what the eye sees?”

“No. The enigma is that she is just what you see. Beautiful.”

His gaze narrowed and then he gave a half shrug. “It’s been hours since breakfast. You must be starving—”

“Do I look as if I’m starving?” she interrupted with a faint smile.

He gave her another assessing glance. “I’ll have a tray sent to you.”

“Are you not eating?”

“I have things to take care of.”

He didn’t want to dine with her. Even though it was their wedding night. It shouldn’t bother her. She shouldn’t be attached to the outcome. She was here, the substitute bride, out of obligation, not affection. He was the humiliated groom. She shouldn’t be surprised that he wanted to keep his distance. “A tray would be lovely.” She nodded toward the glowing point. “Could I eat out here?”

“I’ll have my steward set up a table.”

She started to thank him but he was already walking out, and she watched him go, a lump filling her throat. This was not going to be easy.

* * *

Damen’s office on the second deck was similar to his bedroom—a wall of windows, another wall of bookshelves and then large art pieces here and there. His oversize desk faced out, because he always preferred working with a view of the water. His parents might have preferred the land, and the olive groves they considered home, but he needed the sea. He craved the sea. It was when he faced out, toward the horizon of blue sky and blue sea, he could relax and breathe.

He ate only a few bites of his dinner before pushing it aside to concentrate on the agreements he’d pulled up on his laptop.

Agreements and contracts dating back three years, even though the discussion regarding merging Dukas and Alexopoulos began five years ago when Elexis was just graduating from college. Kristopher had been the one to approach Damen, suggesting that while each family was successful, they’d be even more powerful together, marrying the two families, and merging the two shipping empires, creating a truly remarkable empire. They’d be a world power together, controlling shipping lanes across the globe.

Damen had been intrigued but not sufficiently tempted because he knew Dukas’s reputation. Dukas’s deals could be shady as he tended to play a little too fast and loose. Damen might be ruthless, but he also knew that one’s word mattered and he ran his business with integrity.

But two years later when Damen heard that Kristopher was dangling his daughter again, trying to find another Greek shipping company as a potential partner, he acted, flying out to San Francisco to discuss mutually beneficial scenarios. All of which included marriage to Dukas’s daughter Elexis.

Damen wasn’t emotionally attached to Elexis. She was simply a means to an end. And yet when he finally met Elexis, and saw how people responded to her, he was reassured, realizing she wouldn’t just be a wife and mother to his heirs, but a valuable asset. The fact that people were drawn to her would be useful when entertaining clients. She could concentrate on the social niceties, leaving him free to focus on business.

Love never entered the equation because Damen didn’t love people. He needed certain people in his life to get things done. He respected some of those he worked with, but tended to ignore most, having very little tolerance for people’s weaknesses and idiosyncrasies. The more someone could prove beneficial, the more value he placed on them. It was cold, and unfeeling, but that was who he was and he wouldn’t ever apologize for being pragmatic and strategic.

It was what had taken him from the olive groves on Chios, to the helm of Aegean Shipping, which he renamed Alexopoulos Shipping of the Aegean after the elder Mr. Koumantaras died. The Koumantaras family wasn’t happy that Mr. Koumantaras Sr. had left control of his business to the outsider, upstart Damen Alexopoulos, but Damen felt no remorse. Koumantaras’s children had no desire to work for the family business. All they wanted was to live off the profits. So why should they care if the company changed its name?

One day Dukas Shipping would go the way of Aegean Shipping—the name would drop and the company itself would fold into the more powerful Alexopoulos Shipping.