Note to Readers
KASSIANI DUKAS TRIED to sit very still on the white slip-covered upholstered sofa in the corner of the expansive villa’s living room, not wanting to draw attention to herself as it would only lead to trouble.
She’d done nothing wrong but her father was furious and the last thing she wanted was him to turn on her.
Things were bad, though. Elexis was gone. Kassiani’s older sister was to marry Damen Alexopoulos tomorrow but Elexis had mysteriously disappeared in the night, managing to sneak away from the estate on the Athenian Riviera before flying out of Athens with friends more than willing to whisk her away from a wedding—and marriage—she’d never wanted.
And now her father was about to break the news to her groom, powerful Greek shipping tycoon Damen Alexopoulos, a man everyone knew to be brilliant, ambitious and dangerous if crossed.
He’d just been crossed.
She shuddered as her father, Kristopher, paced the gleaming marble floor, hands knotted behind his back, his complexion ashen. Nothing good would come of Elexis’s disappearance.
Footsteps rang in the hall. Kassiani sat taller on the corner sofa. Kristopher stopped his frenetic pacing.
Damen Alexopoulos entered the villa’s living room, stealing Kassiani’s breath. She’d seen him before, on the night of Elexis’s engagement, but she hadn’t actually talked to him. It had been a party for others—very public, very extravagant with Elexis and Damen spending maybe just thirty minutes together—before he’d flown out, returning to Greece. He wasn’t classically handsome, but he had piercing hazel eyes, strong, arresting features and a full, firm mouth that fascinated her. He was also taller than she remembered, and broader through the shoulders, with a muscular chest and narrow waist and long lean legs.
Kass had never understood why Elexis hadn’t found him attractive, because as Greek men went, he was truly a remarkable specimen, but then her sister tended to prefer the up-and-coming models and actors who fawned all over her, each of those young, pretty males hoping to benefit from her wealth and fame.
“I was told you wanted to see me,” Damen said, his voice deep with a hint of a rasp that made the fine hair on Kassiani’s nape rise while her insides did a peculiar quiver.
“Good morning, Damen,” her father said with forced cheer. “It’s a beautiful morning here in Sousin.”
A small muscle pulled in Damen’s hard jaw. Kassiani could tell he found her father annoying. That didn’t bode well for what was to come.
“It is always beautiful here,” Damen answered. “But I ended an important meeting to see you, having been told there was an emergency.”
Irritation and impatience made the rasp in his voice more pronounced, and his English more accented. It was clear he hadn’t learned English as a boy. Or at least, he hadn’t become fluent as a boy.
“An emergency? No,” Kristopher replied, smiling. “I wouldn’t call it that. I’m sorry you had to rush here, worrying.”
The muscle in Damen’s jaw worked again. It was clear he was fighting to hang on to his temper. “I don’t worry, and I don’t rush. But I am now here. Why was I summoned?”
Kassiani drew back in the corner of the sofa, as if she could make herself smaller. Not easy as she was a big girl...not tall like her sister, but rather, big boned, with even bigger curves—hips, breasts and the sort of generous backside that was fashionable if paired with a tiny waist. But Kassiani’s waist wasn’t spectacularly tiny. Her stomach wasn’t flat. Her thighs touched. Unlike her older sister, Kassiani didn’t have an Instagram account. She didn’t take selfies. She avoided photos at all cost.
Unlike stunning, photogenic Elexis, Kass didn’t photograph well. Nor was she part of high society’s inner circle. She didn’t travel on private jet planes, or party in Las Vegas, the Caribbean or Mediterranean.
If her last name hadn’t been Dukas, she would have been incredibly ordinary. If her father wasn’t one of the richest Greeks in America, she would have been forgotten. Invisible.
Over the years Kass had come to wish she really was invisible as invisible was far better than being visible and pitied. Visible and scorned. Visible and rejected. And not just rejected by superficial socialites and quasi-celebrities, but rejected by your own family.
Her father had never shown the least bit of interest in her, and why should he when he had everything he needed in his son and heir, Barnabas, and beautiful Elexis, who’d charmed him from birth with her big dark eyes and winsome pout?
Kass had never been a charming child. Family lore depicted her as silent and sullen, and impossibly stubborn. She reportedly scowled at guests, refusing to make small talk with her father’s important guests. She wouldn’t play the piano or sing, or bat her eyelashes at the visiting Greek dignitaries. Instead, Kass
