no desire to work for the family business. All they wanted was to live off the profits. So why should they care if the company changed its name?
One day Dukas Shipping would go the way of Aegean Shipping—the name would drop and the company itself would fold into the more powerful Alexopoulos Shipping.
Damen closed his laptop to look out the window at the now dark sky. At midnight the lights on the Temple of Poseidon would go out, but as it was only ten, the temple still glowed from the spotlights.
Damen tapped a finger on the arm of his chair, trying to ease the tension bottled within him. He hated how Kristopher Dukas had played him. He hated the feelings flooding him. He didn’t like it when his temper flared. He had a hot temper. He used to have a horrendous temper. It had taken years to learn how to manage his anger, but today was testing him. Today made him want to let loose, and level something.
He thought of Kassiani in the master bedroom and closed his eyes and shook his head.
He didn’t know why he’d allowed the steward to take her there. Kassiani should have been taken to a guest room. Somewhere out of his way. Somewhere he could forget her.
Instead she was in his room, waiting for his return.
His gut cramped.
He didn’t want her. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he didn’t want her. She wasn’t the bride he’d been promised. Kristopher had promised the best daughter, and Damen had believed him, investing heavily in Dukas Shipping’s West Coast ports, building them up, buying new ships, aware that the heavy cash investment now would stabilize both of their businesses in the future. But the deal was off.
The marriage would be annulled.
And the contracts would soon be voided.
He’d already emailed his attorney to start the process of dissolution. Now it was just a matter of returning the Dukas girl to her father and moving forward the necessary legal action.
* * *
Her meal finished, Kassiani left the table and retreated inside to study the luxurious master bedroom. At least, she assumed it was the master bedroom, which meant Damen would be returning at some point, and they would be alone. Here. In the bedroom.
She, who had only pecked Damen on the lips at the chapel, needed to find the confidence to sleep with him. Correction, not sleep, but have sex with him, because if the marriage wasn’t fully consummated, Damen could annul it and then the Dukases would lose everything.
Kassiani might not be the favored daughter, but she was loyal to her family and protective of the company. She’d agreed to marry Damen so that Dukas Shipping wouldn’t be destroyed by legal actions. Damen could destroy them. His demands for restitution would bankrupt the company.
As her father baldly put it this morning—he couldn’t afford to pay Damen back. The wedding had to happen, and the marriage consummated.
Which meant Kassiani had to seduce Damen tonight. It wouldn’t be easy. She wasn’t just a virgin, but a virgin with zero experience. Before the peck in the chapel, she’d only ever been kissed once before, a bumbling fumbling kiss that had been so wet and distasteful that she’d never wanted to kiss again.
Compared to that wet, violent assault on her mouth, today’s chapel kiss had been rather exhilarating. When he’d tilted her chin up to kiss her, she’d felt a little shiver of anticipation, and he’d smelled lovely as his head dropped, his mouth brushing hers. His lips had felt firm and cool, and yet they’d somehow made her feel warm, and tingly. Her lips continued to tingle even after he’d lifted his head. She’d found herself wishing the kiss had lasted longer. She was curious as to what more would feel like, and with a longer kiss, perhaps she could process her thoughts and all the different sensations. Kass liked data and analysis. Information was immensely helpful.
More information was needed now.
How was she to seduce Damen when she had no knowledge of such things? Of course she knew what men’s bodies looked like. She didn’t live in the Dark Ages. She had a brother. She had a father. The internet was full of photographs, and movies, and she’d just have to piece together from movies what men would like.
From what she recalled, men seemed to like stripteases. They liked lap dances. They liked titillation, including women on their knees, obedient and eager to please.
Kassiani tried to imagine kneeling before Damen, her hands on his thighs, fingers moving toward the zipper of his trousers.
The image made her feel peculiar. Heat washed through her, making her skin prickle, and her breasts peak. The hot ball of tension seemed to center low in her belly, pulsing a little between her thighs. She was nervous and excited at the same time. Her entire world had been turned upside down. She’d come to Athens five days ago expecting to attend her sister’s wedding. Instead she’d been woken by her father early this morning with the news that he expected her to marry Elexis’s groom. And Kassiani, so desperate to earn her father’s favor, had. Now instead of returning to San Francisco, she was to remain in Greece, and make a new life for herself as Damen’s wife.
Kassiani shot a glance into the wood-framed mirror on the wall. She was still wearing Elexis’s wedding dress, and the lace panels that had been added were pulling at the seams. Even in a corset, even with the additional panels added to the dress, the gown was too tight. The fabric pulled in all the wrong places.
Kass had never let herself dream about her wedding day, but if she was being honest, she’d say it certainly wasn’t the wedding that took place today, and she certainly wouldn’t have chosen this dress...a dress that made her look even curvier and stockier with all the lace panels.
No, she would have chosen something simple—an off-the-shoulder white satin gown that minimized her bust and skimmed her hips, before falling into a long graceful skirt in the same clean white satin. There would have been no plunging necklines and no bustle and no ornate beading adding thickness and weight to the lace panels worked into the bodice and skirt.
Kassiani placed a hand to the plunging neckline, running her fingertips lightly over her curves. Her breasts were beyond voluptuous. She’d always hated the thickness of her hips and thighs, as well as the shape of her belly, somewhat round as if she practiced belly dancing regularly, instead of the hours she spent on a treadmill walking, walking, walking, forever trying to reduce her form, wanting to be lean like her mother and sister. She would never be lean.
Her exterior was what it was—it couldn’t be changed—and she was certain her new husband was disappointed, which was why she had to prove herself. She had to prove to him tonight that she fully intended to be a good wife. She’d find a way to satisfy him.
But how?
And what if she couldn’t get him to respond?
Kass grabbed her phone and, while struggling out of her gown and layers of girdles and undergarments, researched men and arousal. Peeling her stockings off, she found quite a few sites offering numerous tips on how to please your man in bed, ranging from “Twelve Erogenous Zones That Shouldn’t Be Ignored” to a very useful and practical article on “How to Give Unforgettable Oral Sex.”
Naked, she headed into the adjoining white marble bathroom and, careful not to get her hair wet—it was still coiled up in an elaborate updo—she used the body wash in the shower to try to rub some of the marks out of her skin, but the angry red marks created by the
