Chapter Four

Rania slammed the stateroom door and then the bathroom one for added emphasis. She didn’t give a damn if the Egyptian agents returned and carted her off to Cairo. At the moment, it seemed the better option than marriage to Demetri. He could put what spin on it he wanted. He’d blackmailed her. She should call his bluff.

Except the tiny part of her brain not consumed with rage reasoned that this “marriage” could get her what she wanted as well. Demetri was a powerful man in this part of the world. Not only his wealth, but his connections were reputed to be vast. As his wife, she could leverage them to get her uncle free. It was clear the Christodoulou name had kept the Egyptian military from taking her. If she’d been aboard any other boat, she’d be in Cairo or Alexandria right now.

Demetri could buy his land and then she could return to Canada with her uncle. And her husband could rot in hell for all she cared. For Uncle Fouad she’d do it. But if Demetri expected a docile, obedient wife, he’d be sadly disappointed.

A couple of minutes later, the stateroom door clicked open then shut again. Demetri had stayed behind at Giorgio’s to make a few calls away from any listening ears on the boat. She’d stormed off, not wanting to hear him gloat about securing a wife so his precious real estate transaction could go through. She’d called her eldest sister to get the necessary papers sent over so they could obtain a marriage license. Rather than say she was getting married, she told her family she’d lost her passport and needed to get a replacement. Knowing her scatterbrained tendencies they wouldn’t question her further. Hopefully, she could be married and divorced before they ever got wind of Demetri and his nefarious plan.

When she stepped into the bedroom a few minutes later, Demetri sat in the bed reading, the sheet pooled at his waist, his chest bare. Tempting. Too bad she was still furious.

“A smart man would know when his wife was angry and go sleep somewhere else.”

“I didn’t get married to sleep alone. Get in bed, Rania. By tomorrow you’ll see I’m right.”

She put her hand on the door handle intending to find another bed—a Demetri-free bed—to sleep in.

“Don’t bother.” His deep voice stopped her before she could open the door. “I’ll find you and crawl in beside you. This is the largest bed on the boat. At least here you can have some space apart from me, if you insist. Another bed might not be so accommodating.”

Was it another bluff? He appeared serious, and the thought of being curled up against him was too much. She stomped over to the bed and crawled in. “You really are a bastard.”

“We’ve already established that. Go to sleep, Rania. It will all look better in the morning.”

In the morning it did look better, because she woke up lying on top of Demetri. And from the death grip her hand had on his pajama bottoms, even if he’d tried to move her, she wouldn’t have budged. She raised her head and saw the laughter in his eyes.

“Do you always sleep this way?” he asked. “Because I’m thinking all we need is a single bed in our house.”

She went to roll off him but his arms held her where she was. She wriggled a bit until she realized it wasn’t a bunched up sheet between them. His erection pressed into her stomach.

“I…no. Usually I like my space. Maybe I was cold in the night. You probably stole all the blankets, and I was trying to get them and got stuck.”

“Or maybe when you go to sleep and your brain lets go, your body feels free to seek out what it really wants—me.”

“Whatever.” She pushed off him and sat up, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “Are we stopping in Crete today? I need to freshen up my wardrobe.”

“I don’t know. I quite enjoy what you’re wearing.”

She glanced down. Her nipples were clearly visible through the white tank top, and she’d forgotten to put on her shorts last night so was wearing a skimpy pair of lace undies. “Is it appropriate to meet your mother?”

“Definitely not. We’ll spend the night at my house in Crete. I need to have the boat checked after its maiden voyage.” In other words, searched for bugs and cameras. “We can pick up a few things for you before we head to Gavdos tomorrow.”

“So soon? Couldn’t we stay in Crete for a week or so?” Give her time to escape.

“No. You can’t put off meeting your new mother-in-law forever, glykia mou. And don’t worry, she’ll love you as much as I do.” His words were not reassuring, considering he didn’t love her at all.

She shrugged, trying not to think about meeting Demetri’s family. Would they consider her a scheming bitch who’d snared their only son? Or welcome her with open arms as a woman to make him happy? There was nothing she could do but be herself, so no point worrying. Pulling on a pair of shorts and a loose top, she forced her eyes not to linger on Demetri who looked sexier than ever with his tousled hair, morning stubble, and sleepy eyes.

“I’m going to exercise. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She left before she could change her mind and climb back into bed.

Forty minutes later, Demetri sauntered onto the deck where she was stretching after her workout. The cool breeze off the sea as the boat plowed toward Crete felt wonderful on her skin. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to prevent the heat that engulfed her as Demetri’s gaze swept over her contorted body. Drenched in sweat, her hair plastered to her head, she could imagine the sight she presented, whereas he was ultra-sexy with his still damp hair, navy shorts, and white shirt with the top two buttons undone.

“I’m off to take a shower,” she mumbled before fleeing his presence once again.

Who the hell am I? Rania Ghalli didn’t run from men. She also didn’t run from desire. She was discrete, but took her pleasure when she wanted, which hadn’t been too often lately, with the worry over her uncle. So why was she hesitating with Demetri? Was it more than lust? Couldn’t be. Because as grateful as she was for how he’d bailed her out with the Egyptian agents, she was still annoyed about the way he’d coerced her into a very real marriage.

If she had to marry him, she was going to do it in style. Rania style.

…

Demetri lounged on the sofa, sipped champagne, and waited for Rania to parade before him in the next evening gown. He hadn’t shopped with many women, preferring to hand over a wad of cash and wait for them to appear later with a selection of bags and put on a private show for him. With Rania he couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t bolt as soon as she was out of his sight. So he’d been forced to come with her. However it was proving to be more enjoyable than he’d expected, especially once he’d instructed the shop assistants to select more provocative attire.

“I’m not coming out wearing this,” Rania said from inside the change room.

“Shall I come in?” he replied.

“Damn you to hell, Demetri Christodoulou,” she said through obviously clenched teeth. “This is the very last one I’m trying on. You know perfectly well I’ll never wear any of these dresses. I’ve looked up Gavdos on your computer. There’s nothing there except a small café. And don’t tell me your family dresses this way for dinner because I won’t believe you.”

“Show me the dress, Rania. I’ll decide if it’s appropriate. And we won’t spend all our time on Gavdos. I have business on the other islands and dinners to attend with investors. As my wife…”

Rania emerged from the room, and Demetri swallowed. He’d thought her bikini provocative. Just because there was more fabric didn’t mean the dress was less enticing. It had seemed nice on the hanger. Rania made it gorgeous. A deep green color, it brought out the copper tones in her hair and the gold flecks in her eyes. It also hugged her curves and the see-through panels assured the viewer that the wearer wasn’t enhanced by artificial support. Rania slowly turned. Her back was entirely bare, the dress dipping to the base of her spine in soft folds. It was perfect. She was perfect.

“We’ll take it,” he managed to say. However he’d reached his limit on public displays of Rania’s body, at least until he’d had his fill of private exhibitions. He called an end to the fashion show.

“I can pay for my own clothes,” Rania argued when they sat in the limo twenty minutes later. “All I wanted was a few more T-shirts and shorts and maybe a pair of jeans for when it gets colder. This fancy dress thing was all your fault.”

He glanced over and couldn’t stop his smile when he saw her pout. “You are the first woman I’ve met who gets upset when a man buys her clothes. Every other woman I’ve known couldn’t wait for me to get my wallet out.”

“Let’s get one thing clear between us, Demetri. I am not like any other woman you have met, dated, or slept with. The sooner you understand that I can’t be bought, intimidated, or wowed with money, the easier this relationship will be. I will pay you back for all the clothes. Except the last dress. You can keep that one and pass it on to the next Mrs. Christodoulou.”

She had a point. She wasn’t like any other woman. So he’d have to come up with new ways of dealing with her. Until he’d secured the property and had his fill, that was.

“What do you want to eat? If you’re tired of Greek food, there’s a good French restaurant I know.” He’d enjoy walking into Calypso with Rania on his arm.

“If we can stop for a few groceries, I’m sure I can make something edible. I’ve eaten out for the past month. I wouldn’t mind something home cooked.”

She cooked? Would a year be enough to get to know this woman? He instructed the driver to stop at the nearest market and half an hour later he was in awe. The excitement he’d expected to see as she’d entered the exclusive boutiques he’d taken her to was now on her face as she chatted with a stall owner about the freshness of her produce. After an animated discussion in combined English and some other language he didn’t know, she handed him another bag.

“All we need now is a loaf of fresh bread. I assume you have wine at home?”

“I have wine.” He had a cellar full of some of the world’s best wines. He didn’t think she’d be impressed by that.

She wasn’t impressed by his house either. It had six bedrooms and sat on the cliff face with an amazing view of the bay, especially from the infinity pool. The two other women he’d brought here had almost salivated at the thought of living in the prestigious property. Rania had only asked for the location of the kitchen leaving him to bring in her bags of clothes and shoes. It took three trips.

The clatter of pans and cupboard doors being opened and closed led him to her. Rania had pulled her hair up and secured it with two chopsticks. Every burner on the stove had a pot on it and already an enticing aroma permeated the air.

“What can I do?” He resisted the urge to take her in his arms. He was hungry, but other appetites had awakened seeing her bustling about the kitchen. Her hips circled in concert with the whisk in the bowl she was stirring.

“Are you any good?”

He raised an eyebrow at her question and she laughed. “In the kitchen. Are you any good in the kitchen?” she clarified quickly.

“While I admit it’s not my best room, performance wise, I’ve been known to prepare an edible meal.” It was beans on toast, but he was alive. That had to count.

“I don’t think your boardroom prowess will help us here.”

He smirked at her comment and undid a button on his shirt. “That’s not my best room either.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and he sucked in a deep breath. Playful banter was new to him. Most of his previous women had been refined to the point of stuck-up. Rania was a breath of fresh air—intoxicating, addictive air.

“You can be sous-chef, then,” she said. “First, I need two bottles of wine, white for cooking, whatever you prefer for drinking.”

He went to select a couple bottles from his cellar, returning a few minutes later. “Do you like to cook to music?” He poured two glasses of merlot and uncorked the white for her to use in the cooking. Rania moved around the kitchen as though she’d cooked there for years. She splashed a generous amount of wine into a sizzling pan with a mixture of mushrooms. His mouth watered.

“Sure. Anything but rap. It makes me dizzy trying to figure out what they’re saying.”

“No rap. Sade okay?”

“You really are old school in your music taste.”

“I prefer the term classic. The relatives I lived with in England were both jazz musicians. I guess their musical preference rubbed off on me. But I can download something else if you’d rather.”

“No jazz is cool. My dad likes it as well.”

“Not sure I want to be categorized with your father,” he said. “I’ll update my playlist tomorrow with Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift.”

“Ha, I knew you were a secret Swiftie.”

He laughed and put the music on, then spent a few minutes admiring the symphony of Rania’s movements as she chopped, stirred, and tasted. Her body moved to the music in an unconscious seduction and again he resisted the urge to touch her. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “What else can I do?”

“Slice the bread, spread this on it, and then toast it lightly under the grill.” He did as she asked, and ten minutes later they sat on the deck, enjoying a mushroom medley on herb buttered toast. It was one of the best things he’d eaten in months.

The rest of the delicious meal followed as Rania prepared it. The main course was grilled lamb on skewers, with a yogurt dip different enough from tzatziki to tantalize his jaded taste buds. When she produced a molten lava cake for dessert, he called her out.

“Are you trying to prove some sort of super wife credentials?”

“No way. You force me to marry you, you get what you get. I enjoy cooking and haven’t done much lately with my travels. I would make this meal for any of my sisters and their husbands or my parents. It’s one of my favorites.”

“You have a large family?” If there were so many of them, why was she was the one trying to rescue her uncle?

“I’m the youngest of four girls. My sisters are married, and they all live in Canada now. My parents are in London at the moment. Dad is an antiquities expert and is accompanying the touring pharaohs museum exhibition. Uncle Fouad sensed the winds of change years ago and urged us to relocate out of the country. He stayed behind to run his business.”

“Why isn’t your father the one trying to free your uncle?”

“Have you seen any of the Indiana Jones films?”

Non sequitur question, but he’d play along. “Of course.”

“You know the character Marcus Brody, the scatter-brained archaeologist who once got lost in his own museum?”

He nodded.

“That’s my father. He’s a brilliant man. He can name every pharaoh and give the dates of their reign and minute details about their lives. Yet he can’t remember my birthday or my middle name.”

“What is your middle name?”

“Safiya. Rania Safiya Ghalli.”

“Christodoulou, as of next week.”

A shadow crossed her face and a stab of guilt pricked his conscience. Before it could overpower his desire for Rania he returned to the subject of her family. “What about your brothers-in-law? Have they tried to get your uncle out of prison? Surely your sisters must be worried as well?”

“They’ve made a token effort, but my uncle and I have a special bond. He was married to my mother’s sister so he’s an uncle by marriage not blood. My aunt died in childbirth, along with the baby. I was born a week later, and my uncle has always considered me as the child he should have had. I was supposed to work for him and eventually take over his construction company. I guess none of that will happen now.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

Tears glistened in her eyes and his chest tightened. He reached out a hand to touch her. “Rania—”

Instead of accepting his comfort, she stood. “I’ll clean up. What time do you want to set off in the morning?”

“Leave the dishes. I have a cleaning service. They’ll come tomorrow and sort everything out. And we’ll depart when we’re ready. That’s why I bought the boat, so I could leave when it suited me. Sail time to Gavdos is about five hours. As long as we get there before dark, we’re fine.”

“Okay then. Which bedroom should I use?”

“Mine?” She raised both eyebrows and waited for him to stand. He took her hand and led her back into the house, up the stairs then down the hall. “You can have the room next to mine. I have an alarm system, so if you try to escape, it will alert the whole neighborhood.” Although the nearest neighbor was half a kilometer away and he didn’t fancy explaining to the police why his alleged new wife had run away in the middle of the night.

“I won’t leave.”

He opened a door to one of the guest rooms and waited for her to enter. Her shopping bags were piled at the end of the bed. “There’s a bathroom through that door. It should be stocked with towels and necessities. If you need anything, or want to sleep on top of someone, I’m next door.”

“I’ll be fine here. Thank you.”

“Rania.”

“Yes?”

“We’re going to have a good marriage, for as long as it lasts. We seem to get along well, and I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

“How can I be happy knowing my marriage has an expiration date?” Before he could respond, she drew in a deep breath. “I’ll see you in the morning, Demetri. Good night.”

He closed the door behind him and returned to the patio, too restless to sleep yet. Was he doing the right thing, forcing Rania into marriage? It benefited them both, so it made business sense. When he looked in her eyes, it wasn’t business he was thinking about.

A warm breeze brought the scent of the sea with it. Born and raised until the age of twelve on a small island, he had as much salt as blood in his veins. Then his grandfather had exiled him to London, hoping his relocation would erase the stain Demetri’s birth had brought on the family name.

His cousins in London had provided him with a loving home, and he couldn’t complain about his treatment or his life in the UK. But he’d gone to bed every night longing for the smell of the sea and his mother’s smile. He’d promised himself that one day he would return to Gavdos triumphant, and make sure his grandfather knew that his embarrassment of a bastard grandson had made more of the family name than the old man ever had.

The woman sleeping in the room next to his was the key to accomplishing that. It was the other things her key might inadvertently open up that worried him.

…

Demetri glanced into the shoebox the security expert showed him. There were at least twenty listening devices and seven miniature cameras in it.

“We’ve done a triple check. The boat is clean now of surveillance devices. The only way to ensure there isn’t a GPS tracker somewhere is to have the boat pulled out of the water entirely. Some of the stuff we found is high quality, more than what you’d find commercially available. The cheap, dummy ones we found easily. They’re what we call decoys and are meant to be found so the person thinks they’re safe. It took six hours to locate all the others. The person who planted this equipment really wants to know what you’re up to. I suggest you allow me to check your phone and your wife’s, too.”

It no longer surprised him to hear Rania referred to as his wife, perhaps because he’d begun to think of her as that as well. Eight more days and she would be.

Demetri handed over his phone and called to Rania. It was noon, and they were due to depart in less than an hour. She’d been quiet all morning, not saying anything as they filed the papers for their marriage license. Now all they had to do was post a notice of their intent to marry once they reached Gavdos and over a week later they could be wed. As Rania had been baptized as a Coptic Christian, they could even be married in the church. His mother and grandmother would be ecstatic.

His fingertips tingled but he wasn’t sure if it was the thought of finally getting his hands on the land, or on Rania. He’d decided last night, as he’d tossed and turned in frustrated desire, that he’d wait until their wedding night to make love to her. Then, in the event of an accidental pregnancy, there would be no question of him producing a bastard. One in the family was enough.

Still, as she approached him, he sucked in a breath. Even dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, she exuded a sexuality that made his blood flow south, and not for the first time that day he wondered whether he’d be able to wait eight more days.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Rania, Terry wants to check your phone for spyware.”

She passed her phone to him, careful to make sure their hands didn’t touch. “I have a bit of a headache. I’m going to lie down for a while.”

He searched her features. She did look a bit pale. “All right, glykia mou. If you need anything, use the phone in the room to call the captain, and he’ll send someone to find me.”

She nodded then disappeared. Terry rattled the box with the disabled spy equipment, and Demetri pulled himself out of his latest Rania-filled fantasy.

“I know it’s none of my business, Mr. Christodoulou, but this was a professional job done on your boat…and your wife’s phone is compromised. You may want to consider hiring additional security. It may be more than information they’re after.”

“Thank you. I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.” They’d be safe enough on Gavdos. He knew all the residents there and the handful of tourists who were still on the island this late in the season would be easy enough to keep track of. Few of them ventured to where his family lived anyway, preferring the sandy beaches and close access to facilities on the other side of the island.

“If you need any recommendations, don’t hesitate to call me. Just don’t use this phone.” Terry handed Rania’s mobile back. “It would be better to get a brand new phone for your wife. I can’t guarantee they won’t be able to reactivate the spyware on this one. If you know what this is all about, you could use this phone to spread false information.”

Terry’s words solidified the suspicions in Demetri’s mind. Whoever Rania’s uncle was, he was more than a lowly political prisoner. He wanted to make sure his wife was who she said she was as well, so he’d asked his lawyer to hire someone to investigate both of them. The report was due the day before the wedding. He sure as hell hoped it had good news.

In the meantime, Demetri had his hands full of women. Despite his reassurances to Rania, he wasn’t completely sure how his mother and grandmother were going to take to her. He also had to break the news to Christina that he was marrying someone else and manage her disappointment without ruining the friendship between their families. It was her uncle who was selling the land, and he needed her to understand that she was better off without him. And then there was Rania, a woman he desperately wanted, liked more than he’d expected, and wasn’t sure he could trust.

The next week would be the most crucial of his life.