Return of the Moralis Wife

Nothing like the Orion she had known, who had all the charm of a rattlesnake, Selina thought scathingly.

She glanced down and along the beach to the distant lights of the harbour, then back towards the trees, and suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She had the strongest feeling someone was watching her. Not the stars—she wasn’t a fanciful teenager any more …

Maybe swimming in the middle of the night had not been such a great idea, but the pressure of the past few days had finally got to her, and she hadn’t been able to sleep for the heat … Well, that was what she blamed her agitation on, rather than face her grandfather’s death and the painful memories returning to Greece had evoked. Selina could remember with blinding clarity the first time she’d met her grandfather, and the start of a fairytale life that had quickly turned into a nightmare.

She’d had a happy childhood with the mother she had loved—a beautiful, dramatic and vibrant woman, a trained opera singer—and her Aunt Peggy, whom she adored. She wasn’t really her aunt, but a babysitter-cum-housekeeper—as she had realised when she was about five.

Her mother had told her that her father was dead, and for years Selina had accepted that. So it had come as an enormous shock when, in the September after she turned eighteen, she’d met Mark Stakis—an elderly Greek who had said he was her grandfather and told her the true story of her birth.

His son, Benedict Stakis, was Selina’s biological father, and he had died with his family in a tragic accident.

Mark Stakis had only learnt of the existence of Selina after his son’s death …

It had hurt Selina deeply to realise her mum had always known that Benedict Stakis was alive. But in return for a house, and a guarantee to pay for Selina’s upkeep until she was twenty-one, her mum had signed a contract to keep his identity secret from everyone—including her daughter …

Sighing, Selina began walking back to the villa. In the seven years since she had met her grandfather life had taught Selina a lot. She had seen some of the terrible things people were forced to do just to live in this world, and she no longer judged her mother quite so harshly for doing what she had done to ensure a good life for her daughter.

God, she had been so naive when she had met her grandfather, Selina thought, entering the villa and closing the door behind her. She had spent Christmas with him, here in this house. She glanced around the huge if somewhat tired-looking reception hall. But it had been what had happened the next time she’d visited Greece that had haunted her for years. Not any more. She was her own woman now and intended to remain that way.

In her experience good men were in a minority, and ruthlessly ambitious immoral men were in the ascendancy in today’s world. She only had to remember her younger self and the night she’d met Orion Moralis to confirm her view, she thought, letting her mind slip back to the past …

She had been so excited to be back in Greece for a second time, and she’d been staying in her grandfather’s house in Athens. He had held a dinner party, inviting the Moralis family.

Selina had been introduced to Helen Moralis and her daughter, Iris, a few days earlier, and they had been kind enough to take her around the sights and shops. They were there, with Paul Moralis, the husband and father.

Orion, the son, had arrived late, and Selina had taken one look at him and thought ‘tall, dark and handsome’ could have been coined for him. He had smiled and talked to her, his twinkling dark eyes mesmerising her, and with every passing minute she had fallen deeper under his spell.

Finally, when dinner was over, he’d said he had to leave early to take a conference call. Her grandfather had told her to lead Rion out through the garden because it was quicker.

She had stumbled on the garden path in the high heels Iris had convinced her to buy, along with the daring green dress she’d been wearing, and Rion had caught her. He had kept hold of her hand and talked to her, charmed her, and finally kissed and caressed her.

She had fallen headlong in love with him.

Even now, years later, the memory made Selina shiver—with revulsion, she told herself. The only person being led down the garden path that night had been her, she had realised bitterly a few months later.

Straightening her shoulders, she glanced around the silent house and walked up the grand staircase to her bedroom. Tomorrow was her grandfather’s funeral. She had to stay strong to get through the day. As Anna had said, it was up to Selina, his only relative, to ensure his funeral was perfect—as befitted a man of his great stature.

Personally, Selina wasn’t convinced he had been great. But when Anna, his housekeeper—the one person who had befriended Selina in the past and the only one she had kept in touch with since leaving Greece—had called to say he was seriously ill, and had asked Selina to come immediately, she hadn’t been able to refuse. Now she was glad she had arrived two days before her grandfather had died. They’d had a chance to talk and make a sort of peace with each other.

Reconciled with her grandfather, however briefly, Selina had agreed with Anna’s suggestion that she stay and act as hostess to the guests that were expected for the funeral. Now was not the time to be reliving painful memories of the past—if ever …

Rion Moralis waited until he saw Selina disappear through the garden gates and reappear walking up the terraces that led to the villa. There was a shaft of light as she opened the door of the house and vanished again. She was obviously home safe.

Turning, he strolled back along the beach the way he had come, remembering the first time he’d set eyes on Selina. Thinking about it now, as he rounded the headland and saw the lights of the harbour, Rion smiled grimly. That fatal day had been the start of the train of events that had led to his disastrous marriage.

Selina had not been the usual kind of woman he was attracted to, but that had not stopped his body reacting instantly the moment he saw her. She had blushed when they were introduced, but in conversation over dinner it had become obvious she was a bright young woman.

Later, when she’d walked with him through the garden to his car, against his better judgement he had kissed her. With hindsight he realised he had behaved like the teenager Selina actually had been, letting his body’s desire have its way. He’d kissed her again and she had responded with eager naivety, confessing she had never been kissed before—which had only inflamed him more. She hadn’t tried to stop him when he’d trailed his hand down her throat, traced the creamy curves of her breasts, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her dress to tease the small, pink nipples …

Damn it … He was hard again at the memory. He had never felt such an uncontrollable urge for sex with a woman before or since—and it had to stop.

He had proposed to her on this very island soon after they’d met, and had married her on the seventeenth of July in the local church—to the delight of his father and Mark Stakis.

Later, Rion had cynically decided that given the circumstances of their meeting and his opinion of the female sex, he hadn’t been so much surprised as angry when, nine weeks into the marriage, he had returned from a business trip early in the morning on the day of her nineteenth birthday, wanting to surprise her with a diamond pendant he had commissioned specially for her and with arrangements made for a belated honeymoon in the Seychelles.

He had surprised her, all right—with a man. Leaping out of her bed. Not a man—more a boy …

When he’d been able to see through the red haze of fury that had engulfed him, naturally he had thrown her out and informed his lawyer to instigate divorce proceedings immediately. He had neither seen nor spoken to her since.

But he had been surprised, and absolutely furious, when he had discovered just how bright the supposedly shy Selina was when it came to their divorce …

She had refused to sign papers admitting adultery for a swift no-contest divorce in front of his lawyer and her grandfather, then returned to England and consulted a lawyer of her own—the father of her friend Beth, both of whom had been guests at the damned wedding!

Her lawyer had then had the audacity to inform Rion’s lawyer that Selina would consent only to a no-fault divorce. Otherwise she would meet him in open court. The devious little witch had intended to cross-petition, citing Rion’s adultery with various women!

His lawyer had advised him that although Selina had little chance of winning it would be wiser to accept her offer and avoid the publicity a court case would arouse. Her lawyer had evidence to support Selina’s case: video clips of Rion from gossip websites.

One was of him with Chloe in the nightclub, the same night he had met Selina. Chloe was quoted as giving him a score of four out of ten for his sexual ability. A woman scorned, he thought ruefully. Another was of Rion arguing with a photographer outside a club while Lydia, who was now married to Bastias, an influential Greek banker, looked on, plus a couple of other women Rion barely recalled meeting and certainly had not bedded.

Rion had had no choice but to agree with his lawyer—though it had infuriated the hell out of him to do so … Grimly he had conceded that the internet was great for business but a thousand times more lethal than the paparazzi when it came to one’s private life. Even now it enraged him that he’d been outwitted by a faithless teenage wife …

He had blanked her from his mind. He’d been a free man again and had got on with his life, expanding his business empire. But now, after hearing from Kadiekis and seeing her tonight, she filled his mind again as he walked back to his yacht.

Making for his cabin, he stripped off and took a long, cold shower …

CHAPTER TWO

SELINA kept her head bowed as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Mark Stakis was the grandfather she had never known existed until she was eighteen—and now, seven years later, he was dead.

Most of the villagers had turned up for the service, and a lot of the social elite from Athens had arrived by helicopter. She felt as if the eyes of every single one of them were on her, watching and waiting to see if she would break down and cry, as a good granddaughter should. But then she had never been a good granddaughter. She was the bastard from England who had been kept secret for years.

Even after her mum’s death when she was fifteen she had lived in blissful ignorance of the truth of her birth for three more years. After meeting her grandfather she hadn’t known what to think any more. The certainties in her life had been shaken. Maybe that was why she had leapt so hastily into marriage? she thought. Not that it mattered now. Her grandfather had been kind to her in his way, she supposed, and before he died he had said he was sorry, he had done what he’d thought was best for her …

What a horrendous mistake that had been …

With hindsight she should have known. On discovering the truth about her father and the death of his family she should have realised she was the only relative Mark Stakis had left—and given his state of health—was ever likely to have.

Talk about a tragedy, Selina mused. Rich Greeks seemed to have a predilection for them. More money than most people could ever dream of and what good did it do? When he could have built a good relationship with Selina, once she’d got over the secrets and lies she had grown up with, her grandfather had wrecked any possibility of it happening with more secrets and lies. If only he had been honest from the beginning, she thought sadly, a tear sliding down her cheek.

The priest’s voice broke into her reverie and she lifted her head, bent and picked up a handful of earth and dropped it on the coffin.

Standing by the priest, Selina accepted the condolences of the guests as they filed past, and invited everyone back to the villa. Finally, with a supreme effort of will, she forced herself to look coolly up at the last guest. She had glimpsed his presence at the back of the church as she had followed the priest out. Shock had slammed through her for a moment, then determinedly she had chosen to ignore him, but now she had no choice …

Orion Moralis—her ex-husband—a man she had hoped never to see again in her life …

He looks older, was her first thought, and more impressive than ever was her second. Six feet two with thick black hair. Her glance skimmed over his hard, handsome face and down to his broad shoulders. He was wearing a black silk suit, a white shirt and black tie, and in the sizzling summer sun he still managed to look cool.

Rion was the type of man she actively disliked—arrogantly sure of himself and never listening to anyone. As she knew to her cost. A man used to ordering others around, getting his own way. And yet there was something about the enigmatic dark eyes, the sardonic arch of the black brows, the curl of his lip, the jut of his jaw that was compellingly attractive. Sexy … But not to her. Not any more.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Selina,’ his deep, dark voice drawled, and she would have had to be deaf not to hear the sarcasm in his tone!

‘Thank you,’ she responded equally insincerely, and stiffened as two strong hands curved firmly around her shoulders and pulled her close to his long body.

Shockingly, the strength, the warmth and the scent of him reached out to her, and a flicker of heat ignited low in her belly. He bent his dark head and in that fractured moment she knew he was going to kiss her. His lips brushed one pale cheek and then the other.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ she snapped, angry at her involuntary reaction to him.

‘Protecting my business interests,’ he mouthed against her ear. ‘A death can cause trouble in a company if there is a hint of disagreement between shareholders—and your grandfather was a shareholder.’

How typical, Selina thought, the warmth vanishing. She almost laughed out loud, but didn’t dare. She had a horrible feeling that after the emotional upheaval of the past few days she would end up crying.

Taking a step back, she shrugged his hands from her shoulders. ‘You have not changed,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Always business first—last and always.’

‘Not always. The last time I was on this island was the day I married you—and I didn’t have business on my mind then,’ he drawled.

Selina glared at him—and wished she hadn’t. The latent desire in his dark eyes reminded her of another time, and for a moment she could not look away. But as he continued to speak her problem was solved.

‘But you are right, Selina, business is my passion—which is lucky for you. You are about to become a wealthy woman … but then you probably already know that.’

He was still the overwhelmingly arrogant chauvinistic pig she remembered—and she also remembered something else.

‘All I know is that for a man who the last time we met swore never to see or speak to me again you are remarkably visible and verbose,’ she said mockingly, and had no trouble walking away to join the priest.

She thanked him for the service and strolled with him to a waiting limousine. It was a mile from the church to the villa, and she was glad to escape into the air-conditioned interior of the car. She was hot and angry and she could not be sure it was just the sun …

From the first time she’d set eyes on him Rion had made her blush and a whole lot more … But never again she vowed. She knew him for what he really was. Most men would be content to be born with wealth, but not Rion. He was a ruthless, manipulative devil who would step over anyone who got in the way of his driving ambition for more wealth and power. Since they had parted she had seen men a whole lot worse than Rion, she conceded, but with the same driven need.

Men who pursued their own selfish desires to the detriment of others and who were instrumental in the choices she had made in her own life …

Selina had a point, Rion conceded, a wry smile twisting his lips as he watched her walk away. Her shapely bottom swayed temptingly beneath the tight black skirt of the elegant sheath dress she wore. She still had a fantastic pair of legs, he noted as her dress rode up to her thighs as she slid into the backseat of a limo, and she had obviously learned how to walk in high heels. Selina had always been a lovely girl, but now she had fulfilled her potential and matured into a stunningly elegant and beautiful woman.

Rion’s resolve hardened as he began the walk to the Stakis villa. When he had held her he had seen in the darkening depths of her expressive eyes that for all her outrage Selina wasn’t immune to him. The attraction was still there.

Yes, seducing Selina would give him incredible satisfaction. Every rampant hormone in his body was telling him that. As would her final surrender and her humble apology for having the colossal nerve to try and tarnish his good name by suggesting they contest their divorce in an open court.

The memory of the action Rion’s lawyer had first suggested he pursue—labeling Selina an adulteress for the rest of her life—conveniently escaped him, but while he walked towards the Stakis home his determination to make sure Selina didn’t escape him grew with every step he took …

Selina sensed the moment Rion walked into the room—because however much she tried she couldn’t quite dispel the disturbing awareness that arose within her whenever she was in his presence. And she wasn’t the only one, she recognised.

Dynamic and strikingly attractive, he bore a sophisticated air of wealth and power combined with a raw animal magnetism. Men and woman alike could not help but recognise it, and the momentary pause in the chatter of conversation confirmed it.

The noise and laughter soon resumed and she thought dryly that the Greeks certainly knew how to enjoy themselves.

After pretending to listen to Mr Kadiekis, her grandfather’s lawyer, waxing lyrical about his brilliant son who had just passed his law exams, she excused herself, with the explanation that she needed to check on the staff. She wove her way through the guests with a pleasantry to some and an acceptance of condolences to others.

Selina had almost made it to the kitchen when Rion stopped in front of her, blocking her way through the crowd of people.

‘You are looking flushed, Selina. I saw you talking to your grandfather’s lawyer. Anticipation getting to you?’ he prompted, and looked at her with a hint of mocking arrogance in his expression.

The smirk and his cynical implication that she was here for what she could get from her grandfather’s death got to her. Tossing back her head, she let her eyes clash with his. ‘I don’t know what you are trying to imply, and I don’t want to know. You will have to excuse me. I need to check the kitchen,’ she said, coolly polite.

‘No, you don’t. You simply want to avoid me. And I have to wonder why,’ he replied, with the sardonic arch of one black brow.

Selina tilted her chin and looked up at him. ‘We are divorced—have been for years, remember?’ she prompted, sarcasm evident in her tone. ‘And, to be blunt, I don’t like you.’ She’d told him straight—now he would leave her alone.

‘There was a time when you did,’ he said, and the reminiscent gleam in the dark eyes that met hers made her heart miss a beat. ‘Once we were as close as two people can be, Selina … a hell of a lot more than once,’ he teased softly.

For a second, a vivid image of their bodies entwined flashed in her mind, and she wished it had not.

‘True, we parted badly, but I forgave and forgot years ago. Surely now we can be friends?’

Friends? Rion had to be joking after the way he had treated her. She recognised the basic all-masculine gleam in his eyes—she had seen it in many a man’s eyes in the years they had been apart. She wasn’t a naive teenager any more, and she knew it wasn’t a friend he wanted. But she couldn’t prevent the sudden tightening in her chest or the throb of her pulse. Anger, she told herself, and swallowed hard. She was unable to speak for a moment, or tear her gaze away.

Rion took a glass of wine from the tray of a passing waitress and handed it to her.

‘Here—join me in a drink for old times’ sake. As I recall we had our moments …’ he drawled, his gaze roaming brazenly over her body.

Selina knew exactly the moments he was referring to. Without thinking she took the glass. Their fingers brushed and a shiver snaked down her spine. Quickly she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. Long-buried memories were resurfacing in her mind. The connection she had felt the moment she saw him, their first kiss, their lovemaking, his tanned, naked body, all muscle and sinew … He had been like a Greek god to her, with his thick, silky black hair and his soulful eyes with their curtains of black lashes …

Damn—what was she thinking? Selina blinked. There was nothing soulful about Rion. Soulless, more like. She took another gulp of wine. Why on earth was she recalling the good times they had shared when the bad had far outnumbered everything else?

Selina had been married to Rion for eight weeks when his father had retired and set off with Helen on a world cruise. They had moved from Rion’s apartment to stay at the family home and watch over his half sister Iris for a the last couple of weeks of her summer vacation, and then see her safely returned to the international school she attended in Switzerland. During the second week, Rion had gone to Saudi Arabia on business.

Iris had asked if she could invite some friends over on the Thursday evening, for a farewell party before she returned to school. Rion had not been due back until the Friday night, so Selina had agreed—she hadn’t seen any harm in Iris having a little party.

Selina could still recall every minute detail of the whole mortifying scene when Rion had returned unexpectedly very early the next morning. Hearing her name called, she had woken from a deep sleep to glimpse a half-naked man dashing out of her room. Rising up on her elbows, she’d seen Rion standing at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes blazing with fury, rage etched in every line of his hard face.

‘Rion …’ She’d shaken her head in confusion. ‘What …? Who was that …?’

‘Your lover,’ he snapped, his eyes as hard as jet, his face suddenly an expressionless mask. ‘Get up, clean up and get out. The marriage is finished. I never want to see or speak to you again.’

‘You can’t mean that—this is some ghastly mistake!’ she’d cried.

But it had been no mistake. He’d spun on his heel and left without another word.

She remembered the utter humiliation she had felt when she’d realised Rion had instructed the staff to escort her from the house before noon and ordered a car to send her back to her grandfather in disgrace—the adulteress wife on her nineteenth birthday, of all days. She’d tried to get in touch with Rion but it had been hopeless. As he had sworn on the morning he threw her out, he wouldn’t see her, wouldn’t listen and wouldn’t speak to her.

The final disillusionment had come a day later, when she’d managed to meet Iris. Selina had told Iris she was sure she had not had sex with the boy, Jason, as that evening she had gone to bed early, with a couple of painkillers for cramps. The next morning, confused and in tears after Rion’s dismissal of her, she had stumbled into the shower and realised the feminine protection she wore was still firmly in place.

Iris had just laughed and said she knew anyway. Then she had admitted that Jason, the neighbours’ gardener, was her boyfriend. After Selina had gone to bed the rest of them had continued drinking. Iris had told Jason to wait until everyone had left and then give her ten minutes before following her up to her bedroom, the second on the left. Unfortunately the idiot had taken the second on the right, ended up in Selina’s bed and passed out.