Chapter Two

Rania swallowed. Is this where she paid the piper? She loved her uncle as much as her own father. Uncle Fouad had supported her and encouraged her to get a degree and was going to train her to be his successor. Her father still held the antiquated idea that a woman’s place was at home, caring for her children. Not that she had anything against family or children. Her three sisters had found great happiness in their marriages. Rania wanted more. What more she didn’t exactly know. It sure as hell wasn’t the thrill of getting a huge discount on a bulk order of diapers.

Demetri took her hand and led her through the maze of passages back to the main stateroom. In their absence it had been tidied and the bed remade, the corners of both sides turned down. She’d felt bad about trashing the immaculate room earlier, but it had helped to cement the passionate romance theme. The gunman quickly searched the area, including checking in the adjoining bathroom. Did he think she had a spare husband in there? Apparently satisfied that she couldn’t escape, he retreated to the doorway.

“I or my colleague will be in the hallway all night. Do not lock the door or we will be forced to shoot it open. Enjoy your night.” An evil sneer accompanied his words.

Demetri clenched his fists as though about to strike the man. Rania put her hand on her fake husband’s face, trying to soothe his anger. She had really done a number on him. When his eyes met hers, she let him see her terror. It seemed to spark his protector instinct, and he pulled her against him, sheltering her with his body.

What would it have been like if they’d have met under other circumstances? Would this wild chemistry between them even exist? Or was it a product of danger and the forced proximity of their mock marriage?

Whatever the reason for the attraction, she wasn’t going to give in to it and have sex with a stranger. Except to the man outside, it had to seem that Demetri was her husband and they were on their honeymoon.

Reluctantly, she pulled out of his arms and grabbed the pad of paper and pen she’d seen earlier in the bedside cabinet and wrote a quick note.

We have to pretend to have sex.

Why pretend? Demetri wrote back.

Because I don’t have sex with strangers.

We’re married. You have the fake paperwork to prove it.

He started to unbutton his shirt, and she threw the paper on the bed and dived into the bathroom. Thankfully, her satchel was still in there and she quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top. Not quite the seductive lingerie she imagined Demetri’s bedmates usually wore. I’m not trying to seduce the guy. Keep your head, girl. You can’t afford to screw this up now.

Demetri sat in the bed, his chest bare, the sheet pooled at his waist. Oh God, what if he’s naked? Bam, composure incinerated. She just managed to stop from licking her lips. Forcing her eyes from his muscled torso, her gaze flickered to the sofa but he shook his head when she glanced back at him. He was right. If for some reason one of their guards checked on them in the night, her sleeping on the sofa would be a death-knell to their charade. She’d be hauled off to join her uncle in prison, and who knew what they’d do to Demetri for lying to them.

She climbed onto the other side of the bed and bounced on the mattress.

He grabbed the notepaper she’d left and quickly wrote, What are you doing? Due to her bouncing, his writing was shaky and hard to read.

I’m trying to get the bed to creak like we’re making love, she wrote back.

If this bed creaks during sex, simulated or not, I will turn this boat around right now and take it back to the builder.

Okay, but we need to make the guy outside believe we’re married.

“Glykia mou, you are so beautiful, your breasts are so full and tasty.” She jumped at Demetri’s loud voice. She glared at him. He was going to ruin the whole thing by his cheesy acting.

She grabbed the notepaper and quickly scribbled. Stop it. That sounds ridiculous. No one says those things during sex. Be natural!

“Habibi, yes, yes! Right there, that’s the spot,” she said, ending on a low moan, loud enough for their audience.

Demetri grabbed the paper and pen. Now you’re not natural. I don’t need directions. I KNOW how to make love to a woman. The word KNOW was double underlined.

Rania giggled. Demetri glared back at her then a grin lifted his lips. She sucked in a breath. Damn, he was gorgeous when he smiled.

“Already? You said you could last a little longer this time?” she said loudly.

One more comment like that and I will show you exactly how long I can last.

“Oh, habibi, you’re so wonderful. I’ve never known loving like yours.”

“That’s because we’re in love,” he replied. “I still remember the day I first saw you—”

She elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up.

“I’m tired now and need to sleep. It’s been a rather eventful day.” She finished with a loud, fake yawn.

“You promised me a whole night of non-stop sex. That was just the warm-up.”

She punched him in the arm. He caught her hand and kissed his rings on her finger.

“Pace yourself. We have the rest of our lives.” Her voice was a little breathless as he held her gaze. His eyes promised what he would do to her if they were truly married.

Was the guy outside even still there?

“All right, glykia mou. I’ll let you get your sleep. You’ll need to be well rested for tomorrow.”

If she thought he’d turn over and sleep on his side of the bed, she was sadly mistaken. He pulled her against him, anchoring her to his firm body with an iron arm. There was no way she’d be able to sleep now.

“Relax, Rania. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he whispered. He hadn’t called her by name before, and it sent a flutter along her nerve endings. With her head on his chest, she felt as much as heard the words. For the first time in weeks, a sense of security wrapped around her. How long would it last? And when would the rightful wearer of his ring come to claim it?

…

Demetri woke with Rania lying practically on top of him. Her head was in the middle of his chest, her arm across his abdomen, her hand on his waist, a leg over both of his. And her hair was everywhere—on the pillow, across his stomach, down her back. A strand even lay across her face, rising and falling in concert with her breathing. He usually liked long hair on women, but Rania’s chestnut waves had hidden her torso from view yesterday when she’d joined him in the shower, so he was a little resentful.

He inhaled deeply of her cinnamon and nutmeg scent, mixed with an earthy musk and a hint of jasmine undertones. It was exotic and sensual and fit her perfectly. Christina smelled of flowers and sunshine. A stab of guilt sliced through him as he thought of his girlfriend. He’d made no commitment to her; in fact, their relationship was very casual. He’d visited her each time he returned to Gavdos, but they didn’t keep in touch between trips. Yet it seemed wrong to be thinking of her when he was lying in bed with another woman, especially a woman as tempting as Rania.

His hand wandered down her back, repeating the journey it had made last night when they’d danced. He’d come mighty close to losing it then. His cock stirred to life even remembering her in that red dress. If she were really his wife, he would forbid her to wear it outside of their home. No other man would ogle his woman. His breath hitched at the erotic images that flooded his mind—visions of releasing the ties that had held it to her chest, watching the soft fabric fall to her waist…

Rania stirred. Her hand slid from his side, across his lower abdomen before settling again on his upper thigh. He had to get out of here now before the guard outside the door heard the real noises of lovemaking, heard Rania scream Demetri’s name as he rocked her world from under her. He’d take her to heights she didn’t even know existed. Then next time there’d be no fake moans and called-out instructions.

Next time? What the hell am I thinking?

He had to get out of bed. Now. Get these men off his boat, drop Rania at the first island they came across, and propose to Christina. Except his arm automatically tightened around the woman next to him. The small part of the male genetic code, the desire to be a woman’s knight in shining armor, rejected that plan. Rania needed him. He needed a wife to buy the land on Gavdos for his resort. Marriage to Rania held two advantages over an attachment to Christina.

First, he could set a time limit on their relationship. A year would probably suffice. They’d both get what they wanted and then go their separate ways. He’d get his land; she’d get his protection as she tried to free her uncle. Being shackled to one woman for the rest of his life had been a price he’d been willing to pay to get the property. Now he didn’t have to. Christina was far too nice a girl to divorce. Although he didn’t love her, he was fond of her. A divorce would break her heart; he couldn’t do that to her. Rania would probably take divorce in stride. She’d be glad to get her freedom back.

Second, he could explore the passion that simmered between them. So far he’d only shared a few chaste kisses with Christina. She came from a very strict family, and he hadn’t wanted to take her virginity before the wedding night. That and the fact that nothing she’d said, or done, or any looks she’d given him, had set his skin on fire. Unlike Rania. All she had to do was touch his hand and he wanted to fling her over his shoulder, take her somewhere private, and ravage her until they both were exhausted. He figured a year would probably be sufficient to get the lust out of his system as well. Yes, Rania would make a great temporary wife.

That decided, he eased out from under her. The soft sound of protest that escaped her lips nearly had him climbing back into bed. If they were really married, he wouldn’t get out of bed at all today. But they weren’t. And he had plans to set in motion.

He found the paper they’d used last night to write notes to each other. He ripped off the top sheets and a few more underneath. He read her comments again and smiled. That was another thing Rania brought to the bedroom—laughter. Passion and laughter, it was an enticing combination. He carefully hid the notes. He’d get rid of them later so the gunmen couldn’t find evidence of their fraud.

It was almost a disappointment when Rania didn’t invade his shower again. And when he strolled through the bedroom with a towel around his hips, she didn’t even stir. He stood for a minute and watched her sleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She whispered his name and he froze. For some unknown reason, his heart rate accelerated. Maybe it was being caught doing something he shouldn’t, although all he was doing was watching a woman sleep in his own bed. Must be the wicked thoughts running through his mind at the same time accounting for the guilt. She rolled over and continued sleeping.

He dressed quickly—before his body could convince his mind to climb back into bed and wake her the way a husband should wake his wife. Their not-so-friendly Egyptian agent was waiting outside the stateroom door; the second one, not the one who had been there when they’d gone to bed. At least Demetri wasn’t faced with the smirk on the other man’s face from Rania’s lame sex talk.

“My wife is still sleeping. Wake her, or do anything to her, and you won’t see out the day. That I promise,” Demetri told him. He’d send one of his crew down to make sure the man didn’t enter their room.

The guard nodded and resumed staring at the door.

Demetri made his way to the bridge to speak with the captain. He wasn’t surprised to find the other gunman there. Ignoring the Egyptian intruder, the captain greeted Demetri with a smile. They spoke in Greek. If the gunman understood or not, he didn’t say anything. Unfortunately, the Coast Guard and Navy in the area were dealing with two boatloads of illegal immigrants, one of which had capsized. They’d advised Demetri’s captain to make for the nearest port where the land-based authorities would deal with their unwelcome guests.

Demetri glanced over at the gunman who eyed him steadily. If they were going to be killed, it would have happened by now, probably while they slept. And having them on board meant Rania would be forced to pretend to be his wife. He had to admit, he enjoyed that.

“Keep on the route we discussed. Alert the authorities in Kissamos that two foreign nationals will be disembarking. Then my wife and I will head on to Gavdos as planned,” Demetri said to the captain. That would give him one more day to play husband, and then one day to convince Rania to make the arrangement semi-permanent. He smiled and went to find his breakfast.

…

Rania woke with a start. Something was missing. She could hear the boat’s engines and the gentle sound of the waves slapping the hull. They were still moving, and Demetri was gone. His side of the bed was cold so it wasn’t a recent departure.

She sat up and pushed her hair out of her face. Normally she braided it before she went to sleep but she’d forgotten last night. Last night. A smile crept over her face. Despite the gunmen and the threat of death, and worrying about her hastily knit web of lies unraveling, she’d had fun. Demetri was a charming companion. In different circumstances, one she’d like to spend more time with.

Time was one thing she didn’t have. Each day her uncle spent in prison the risk of his death grew greater. If he was still alive. The last contact they’d had with him had been two months ago, and the only thing he was guilty of was saying that all Egyptians, no matter their religion or political affiliation, deserved for their voices to be heard, which was why she’d embarked on this ridiculous mission. At least she was doing something and not sitting around waiting for someone else to take action.

Speaking of action, she’d better get out of bed and find Demetri. She glanced at the clock; it was barely eight. What time had he risen? And why hadn’t he woken her? They probably could have put on another performance for their audience. Her body tingled in places it shouldn’t. Maybe it wasn’t such a smart idea to pretend to have sex with Demetri. Made her want the real thing too much.

She searched for the notepad they’d used last night to communicate. It wasn’t under her pillow where she’d put it. A cold shiver raced down her spine. Had Demetri taken it to show the gunmen? Used it to bargain for his own safety and that of his crew? After all, what did she really know about him? For a guy to be so successful at thirty, he was probably used to all sorts of shady dealings. According to a sketchy Wikipedia entry, he’d built his resort empire from nothing. She was only three years younger, came from money, and the only achievement she could claim was a shoe collection that was the envy of her sisters.

She shook her head. Demetri may be many things, yet he’d immediately come to her aid, without explanation, yesterday. And he’d promised he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. Most importantly, he’d called her Rania, not glykia mou, my sweet, which he probably called his grandmother’s cat. It was like her calling him habibi, my dear; it meant nothing. When she fell in love, she’d call her man azizy, my darling, or hobi, my love, something with meaning. That, too, was a long way off.

In the meantime, she needed to get dressed and find her fake husband. She had a quick shower. As she dried herself she decided not to analyze the sense of loss she felt. She hadn’t wanted Demetri to join her; it would have complicated things too much. And the very last thing she needed right now was another complication, no matter how much her body wanted one.

What to wear? Shorts and a T-shirt? How would Demetri’s real wife dress? Probably not the five-dollar T-shirt announcing a star is born. Or the eight-dollar shorts with heart-shaped pockets. They had been part of her blend-in-as-a-tourist wardrobe. She had a choice between her swimsuit and the one other dress she’d brought. She hung the dress up to wear to dinner tonight, in case they still had their company, and put on her white bikini and blue knit cover-up. Not her usual breakfast attire, but she was, after all, on a boat in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. It had to be appropriate.

She opened the door and by the expression on the gunman’s face, she might have made a major mistake. Donning her haughtiest expression, she breezed past him and headed for the upper deck. She could smell bacon and toast, and suddenly she was ravenous.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Did I exhaust you so much last night?” Demetri’s deep voice behind her made her jump, which she quickly disguised by throwing herself into his arms.

Forget breakfast. He looked good enough to eat. White shorts emphasized his long legs and a navy T-shirt hugged his broad shoulders, muscled chest, and massive biceps. All she needed was a jar of honey and… This line of thought was going to end in disaster. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips before leaning back on his arm, which anchored her lower body to his.

“There you are, habibi. I was lonely when I woke. Where did you get to?” As innocent as her question was, she hoped his reply was more meaningful.

“I was making arrangements to get rid of our unwelcome audience. Unfortunately, they’re with us for another twenty-four hours. So we must be on our best behavior and confine our amorous activities to our stateroom.”

She searched his eyes. Twenty-four hours? Was he serious? Where was the Greek Navy or Coast Guard? Or why hadn’t they pulled into the nearest port? Had Demetri made a deal with the friends of the Egyptian government to deliver her straight to Egypt? When Uncle Fouad had first been arrested, she’d gotten the international media interested in his case, which had caused a lot of embarrassment for the current regime. There was probably a tidy little sum on her head if it had been worthwhile for these two to illegally board Demetri’s boat. Her uncle wasn’t the richest man in Egypt, but pretty close. And with him already in custody, his fortune would probably be forfeited to the government if they held his heiress, too.

Demetri must have read her mind, because he put one hand on her face, cupping it. His thumb swept under her eye as though removing a tear. “Don’t worry, glykia mou. I promised to keep you safe, and I never go back on a promise. Now, come have some breakfast. I can’t have you fainting on me from lack of food.”

Pasting on a saucy smile for their audience, she kissed his palm and then sauntered over to the table, laid out as it had been last night, minus the champagne. He took the opposite chair, his hot gaze roving over her body.

“If I’d known we were to have company on this cruise, I’d have insisted you pack more clothes,” Demetri said.

Rania glanced down then back up at Demetri. There was raw passion in his eyes. She’d worn either severe business suits or boring, respectable dresses for the past five years. None of the previous men in her life had gazed at her that way. It was more than lust. It was possession. She wasn’t quite sure how to take it.

In fact her last boyfriend had been more impressed with her bank account and her prospective inheritance than her rack and booty. He’d definitely never made the back of her thighs tingle and her breasts physically ache to be touched. Demetri managed it with just a look. And his smile said he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“I’m starved,” she said, trying to get her breathing under control.

Demetri waved his hand, and immediately two crew members appeared with a selection of breakfast items.

“So, what did your family say about our hasty marriage?” Demetri asked as she sipped her orange juice. She coughed as it went down the wrong way. It was rather awkward to find out things a normal married couple would already know, without their audience realizing that they were strangers.

“My parents were a bit surprised, but then, I’m known in my family for doing outrageous things. They can’t wait to meet you. My father may be able to take a vacation from his position at the British Museum and come to Greece in a couple of months. My three sisters all think I’m crazy anyway. They plan to hold a big party for us when we eventually make it to Montreal. What about your family?”

“I haven’t told them yet,” Demetri said with a lazy grin.

She relaxed a bit. Obviously, he planned to get her off his boat before they got anywhere near his family.

“Don’t be surprised if they insist on having another ceremony once they find out,” he added.

Her gaze shot to his. What was he saying?

“Yes, glykia mou, we will be getting married again once we arrive at Gavdos.”