The Greek's Ready-Made Wife. Jennifer Faye

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The Greek's Ready-Made Wife - Jennifer Faye Mills & Boon Cherish

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he was, too.

      Her fingers tightened around his hand. “Hi. My name’s Kyra. I have the feeling this is going to be quite an adventure.”

      He had the same feeling but for other reasons, none that he wanted to delve into at the moment. “Let me know whatever you’ll need to make this arrangement as pleasant as possible.”

      As she pulled her hand away, surprise reflected in her eyes. “You make it sound like I’ve just released the genie from the magic lantern.”

      “Not exactly. But I do want you to be comfortable during our time together.” Cristo knew how thorough Stravos was with his background checks of potential business associates. “I need this engagement to be as authentic as possible. Don’t spare any detail or expense.”

      “What expense?”

      “For our wedding.”

      “You’re serious? You really want me to plan a wedding that’s never going to happen?”

      He nodded. “You have no idea what type of man I’m dealing with. Nikolaos Stravos is sharp and thorough.”

      “But if people know about this engagement, how are you going to explain it when we break up?”

      “I thought about it and we’ll handle it just like everyone else who calls off their wedding. We’ll tell people it’s an amicable split and we’d appreciate everyone respecting our privacy during this difficult time.”

      “That may be fine for the public but not for close friends and relatives.”

      “I’ve thought of that, too.” He smiled, liking having all of the answers. “We’ll tell them we couldn’t agree on kids. You want a couple and I want none.”

      “Are you serious?”

      He nodded. “It’s a legitimate reason with no associated scandal. We won’t be the first couple to break up over the subject.”

      She paused as though giving the subject serious consideration. “I suppose it’ll work.”

      He cleared his throat. “It’s the truth, at least partially. I’m too busy for a family.” That wasn’t the only reason he’d written off being a father, but it was all he was willing to share at the moment. “If we’re going to do this, we have to make the relationship authentic to hold up under scrutiny. Starting with you moving in here.”

      “But...but I can’t. I told you I’m not sleeping with you.”

      “And I don’t expect you to. But if people are supposed to believe we’re getting married, then they’ll expect us to be intimate.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand silencing her. “We only have to give people the impression. Nothing more. Is that going to be a problem?”

      Her worried gaze met his. He couldn’t blame her for hesitating. He knew he was asking a lot of her. But he was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. She’d been a really good sport, until now.

      He had to give her an out. He owed her that much. “It’s okay if you want to back out. I will totally understand.”

      For a moment, he thought she had indeed changed her mind—that she was going to head for the door and never look back. His body tensed. He didn’t have a plan B. He’d only devised this plan, such as it was, on the spur of the moment.

      When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly calm and held a note of certainty. “You’re right. People will grow suspicious if we don’t act like a normal engaged couple. But won’t people talk about me being a maid?”

      He shook his head. “You’ve only been on the job for two days, and I’m guessing you haven’t met many guests.”

      “No. Not really.”

      “Good. I wouldn’t worry.” She glanced around the suite as though trying to decide how they would coexist. He could ease her mind. “Don’t worry. There’s a guest room with a lock on the door. But I’m sure you probably already know that.”

      She nodded. “When do you want me to move in?”

      “Now. I’ll send someone to gather your stuff. It’ll be less obvious if you aren’t lugging around your suitcases. Are you staying in the employee accommodations?”

      She gave him the unit number. “But I...I need to tell my friend.”

      “Remember, this arrangement has to be kept strictly between us. You can’t tell anyone about it or it’ll never work. Nikolaos Stravos has contacts everywhere.”

      “Understood.”

      “Good. You stay here and I’ll have your luggage delivered to you.” Her mouth opened, then closed. “Is there a problem?”

      She shook her head. “I’ll have Sofia toss my things together.”

      “Good. Because we have big plans tonight.”

      * * *

      Was this really happening?

      Dressed in a maroon designer dress from the overpriced boutique in the lobby, Kyra held on to Cristo’s arm. She was glad to have something to steady her as her knees felt like gelatin. Her hair had been professionally styled and her makeup had been applied by a cosmetologist. It was certainly a lot of fuss for a dinner date. What was Cristo up to?

      She highly doubted she’d be able to eat a bite. Her stomach was a ball of nerves. They paused at the entrance of the resort’s High Tide Restaurant. The place was dimly lit with candles on each table. Gentle, soothing music played in the background, but it wasn’t having any effect on Kyra.

      Numerous heads turned as the maître d’ escorted them to a corner table. Cristo made a point of greeting people. It was like being on the arm of royalty as everyone seemed to know him. At last at their table, Cristo pulled out her chair. Quite the gentleman. She was impressed.

      He took the seat across from her. “Relax. You look beautiful.”

      Heat warmed her cheeks. She knew she shouldn’t let his words get to her. Everything he said and did tonight was all an act. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

      “Thank you.” He sat up a little straighter as a smile reflected in his eyes. “Can I order you some wine? Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

      “Is it that obvious?” She worried her bottom lip while fidgeting with the silverware.

      He reached out to her. His hand engulfed hers, stilling it. “Just a little.”

      Her gaze met his before glancing down at their clasped hands. She attempted to pull away, but he tightened his grip and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, sending wave after wave of delicious sensations coursing through her body.

      She struggled to come up with a coherent thought. “What are you doing?”

      “Trying to get my fiancée to relax and enjoy herself. We don’t want anyone wondering why you look so unhappy, do we?”

      “Oh.”

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