She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon. Annie West

had smiled and held out her hand. It had been ignored. Was that a look of contempt, or was it her normal expression? she had thought hysterically as the intimidating elderly woman had raised one carefully plucked eyebrow. ‘I missed the wedding, of course. But then I was not invited. I would have liked to have met your family. In our circles family is of the greatest importance.’

      To have given them the once-over, Maddie had translated, trying to keep a straight face even as she’d wondered what the impeccable Alexandra Kouvaris would have made of the tiny village church, Mum’s best blue coat, Dad’s shiny-elbowed suit, her big raw-boned brothers, and Anne—obviously pregnant—trying to control her little son, who thought that sitting still and keeping quiet was an overrated pastime.

      Instinctively, she had moved closer to Dimitri, but he had given his aunt all his attention, his voice suggesting a rapid loss of patience as he’d pointed out, ‘I believe I explained that, having found Maddie, I saw no point in waiting. I had to be back in Athens on business. To have delayed the marriage until I was freed up would have been intolerable to me. Now I suggest you ask Anna to bring refreshments and then—’ he’d turned to Maddie, his eyes not smiling, still touched with annoyance ‘—I will show my wife over her new home.’ As his aunt vacated the room, her head at a decidedly regal angle, he’d said stiffly, ‘Her greeting was less than warm. I apologise.’

      Maddie had reached for his hand. ‘You did warn me! And don’t be too hard on her. She’s probably miffed because she’s been deprived of a big splashy do and a splendid new outfit!’

      She’d made light of it then, but all her attempts to reach some kind of rapport with the elderly woman since had come to nothing. Oh, she’d always been polite when Dimitri was around, but on all other occasions she’d been at pains to point out that she wasn’t fit to clean her husband’s boots.

      Not wanting to create family discord, Maddie hadn’t complained to Dimitri, had done her best to ignore the insults, to discount what Irini said as pure spite, trying to adjust to her new lifestyle. But gradually, like the dripping of water on a stone, her self-confidence had been eroded, and that overheard phone call had been the final confirmation of her painful suspicions.

      It was almost laughable, but on that morning she had made her mind up to unburden herself, tell Dimitri what Irini had said and wait for him to dispel those initial doubts about why a man such as he should be so determined to make a very ordinary girl his wife. Doubts that had been systematically fanned by his aunt. But that phone call had forced her to face the truth.

      Thrusting unwanted memories aside, Maddie took a deep, calming breath. A final spray of perfume—far more than she usually wore, but who cared?—and she swept out of the room on the highest-heeled strappiest shoes she owned, her face set in a rictus of a smile designed to portray that she was nobody’s fool, and not about to be used.

      A smile that vanished without a trace as she neared the partly open door of the vast dining room and heard Alexandra’s acid tones. ‘Do we wait for ever, nephew? I can’t imagine why you brought her back here. Why not pay her off and be rid of her? It’s what she wanted. Best for all of us.’

      Not waiting to listen to Irini’s soothing response or Dimitri’s harsh interjection, Maddie marched in, swept a bland look at the three of them, and took her place at the exquisitely appointed table, slightly comforted to see a stroke of dull colour outline Dimitri’s angular cheekbones.

      He was directly opposite her, with Irini on his left—Irini, whose lips curved sweetly as she turned her head to listen or to reply to what he had said, whose black eyes shot contempt when they occasionally turned in Maddie’s direction.

      As far as Maddie could tell, her wretch of a husband had forgotten she was there. He certainly paid her no attention, addressing his remarks to the others, the flush gone, his startlingly handsome features pale now beneath his habitual tan.

      On her right, Alexandra imparted, ‘I am spending August in Switzerland this year. No one who is anyone stays in Athens; the heat is unbearable.’ There was a rare smile in her voice as she asked Irini, ‘And you, my dear, shall you go with your parents to Andros again? Or perhaps I could persuade you to accompany me to the mountains?’

      It was the first time Maddie had seen the other woman even slightly discomfited. Colour stained her creamy skin and there was a look of panic in her dark eyes as they turned for reassurance to the smooth brute at her side, the brute—who briefly covered one of the Greek beauty’s hands with his own and imparted, ‘I believe Irini has plans of her own. Isn’t that so?’ receiving a subdued nod of assent with a smile of satisfaction.

      ‘Ah—a mystery!’ Alexandra smiled archly and Maddie, her mouth tightening with humiliation, guessed that the old lady thought those plans included Dimitri. She was probably right.

      It was no secret that the childless, unmarried Alexandra doted on Irini, the only daughter of her oldest friend. She regarded her almost as her own, and had hoped for a marriage between her nephew and the daughter of the highly established Zinovieff family. Greek marries Greek; money marries money—as she’d once scathingly told Maddie.

      Just another drip of the poison she’d been careful to keep hidden from her nephew. Barbs Maddie hadn’t repeated to Dimitri, not wanting to cause ill-feeling, because Alexandra was the only close family he had and in Maddie’s book family was vitally important. Instead, she’d held her tongue and hoped that the older woman would come to accept her. But that hadn’t happened.

      Silence fell as plates were removed and bowls of plump fresh figs and glowing dark red cherries were brought to the table, followed by the usual café frappe. Dimitri at last stopped dredging up innocuous subjects of conversation and raised his eyes to his wife for the first time since she’d entered the room. It sent hot blood flowing to that part of his anatomy he was determined to ignore.

      Theos! If she’d worn that dress hoping to drive him wild, she’d succeeded! Throughout the interminable meal it had taken all his self-control to keep his eyes off her. Just looking at her had him aching for her hot, wildly responsive body! A pleasure that he had vowed he would deny himself—and her—for eternity! She would remain as his wife in title only until she came clean about her true reasons for seeking a divorce.

      He’d even had the foresight to phone ahead and ask for his things to be moved to another room. He couldn’t share her bed and hope to keep his hands off her.

      Despising himself now for his lack of control, the way his body was betraying him, his eyes were drawn to the pert roundness of her full breasts, lovingly shaped by the fine scarlet fabric. The smooth, scented skin of her cleavage invited the touch of his hands, his mouth. Theos! Not even his blackest suspicions could stop the minx bewitching him!

      A sickening pain twisted round his heart. His marriage had been the most important thing in his life. He’d been working flat out to put everything in order, making decisions that would allow him to delegate more with confidence, freeing him to spend far more quality time with his wife and, hopefully, his children, should he be so blessed.

      Unconsciously his long mouth twisted. With a few strokes of a pen his wife had turned his life to ashes. So when his aunt asked, with a simper that grated on his nerves, ‘And your plans, Dimitri, what are they?’ his voice sounded thick to his own ears as he heard himself reply.

      ‘My wife and I will spend the month on the island,’ he stated, and told himself that, alone with her there, he would have the best opportunity to get the truth from her. Discover why she regarded their marriage as disposable when it had meant all the world to him.

      He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet in one driven movement, his voice imperious as he demanded, ‘Come, Irini, I will see you to your room.’ And he would discuss with her the plans for the morning, in minute detail, making sure there would be no mistake, that she fully understood this time that she would need to be patient—do exactly what he said, if there were to be any hope of a happy outcome.

      Escaping to her own room—denying the old lady the heaven-sent opportunity to drip yet more poison—Maddie