Not Just the Greek's Wife

And in the eyes of the Spiridakou family patriarch, that made her and Ariston’s marriage sacred and permanent.

The old man’s stubbornness almost brought a real smile to her lips. She loved the old Greek as much as if he’d been her own grandfather.

“He considers our vows sacred.” Ariston said, echoing her thoughts. “According to Pappous, you are still my wife.”

“What does he think of the bed partners you’ve had since I left Greece?” she wondered aloud.

Takis would not have approved of infidelity.

Ariston’s lips quirked with amusement. “I assure you, I do not discuss my sex life with my grandfather.”

Which was not an answer to what she was really asking, but then that was fair, she told herself. After all, Ariston had never claimed that he believed them still married despite the divorce decree.

“Has it been a very active one since I left?” she heard herself asking without having given her mouth permission to speak.

“To quote a woman I know, none of your business.”

“Bastard.” Her hand flew to cover her mouth.

She never used language like that, and honestly, she hadn’t even called him that in her own mind. But having him throw her own words back at her right now sent her irritation levels right through the roof of the limo.

Ariston didn’t take offense. In fact, he laughed. “You wouldn’t be the first to think so.”

Her ex-husband in business mode was dangerous enough, but when he reverted to charming and approachable? Perfectly fatal to her heart.

“Let me get this straight,” she said, needing to get the topic of the conversation back on track. “You’ll refrain from selling your shares in Dioletis Industries and provide the infusion of capital necessary as well as the savvy business direction to keep it solvent if I play the part of your mistress for an indefinite period of time until I fall pregnant?”

Saying it aloud made it sound a lot more worrisome than the concept had in her mind. Not to mention, unbelievable.

Even considering his grandfather’s stubborn attitude about their dissolved marriage, Ariston didn’t need to negotiate to have her in his bed. He’d already proven that this afternoon.

Yes, there was the child issue, she supposed. For him, that was clearly the bigger one.

“Mistress is an old-fashioned term that implies I have other conjugal responsibilities. I do not. You would be my lover, and should you get pregnant—”

“And carry the baby to term.” They couldn’t forget that little gem of a caveat.

“Ne. Yes, and give birth to my child …”

“I would then be expected to marry you,” she finished for him.

He nodded. “And should you be tempted to renegotiate terms at that time, we will have the aforementioned ironclad contract, witnessed in both New York and Athens, in place.”

“And presumably, I will sign this contract for the sake of the hundreds of employees of Dioletis Industries and their families that would be adversely affected if you don’t do your business voodoo with Dioletis Industries.”

“And your sister. You’ve said you would do anything to help her save her marriage and maintain her own happiness. This is your opportunity to prove the veracity of your words.”

Wow. So, yeah … they’d never really been in the same place. She was convinced that since reaching adulthood, and probably a good time before that, this man had never been as vulnerable to someone else’s whims as Chloe had at twenty.

“Doesn’t it bother you to take advantage of someone else like this?” And how different from her father was Ariston really if he could do it so easily?

There was no mistaking the look of offense sliding over his features. “You’ll become the wife of a billionaire. I do not see where that is taking advantage.”

The man really was too arrogant for words.

“Right. What’s yet another relationship between us without love?”

“Again with the love thing? Understand this—I do not believe in it.”

“Why not?” She had her own ideas about it, but wanted to hear his own words on the subject.

“I have seen too much evidence that love makes the worst basis possible for marriage. My father has claimed to love every one of his six wives, and my mother loves every man she takes to her bed. Love is at best an excuse to follow one’s libido. A contract, when each side cannot mistake the terms, is a much better basis for marriage.”

“Wow.” Cynical much? Though she really couldn’t blame him. “Not everyone loves like your parents.” And the contract thing sure hadn’t worked for them the first time around.