Marriage at His Convenience

Lost in her dream of wedded bliss, she was only half listening but it slowly began to dawn on Amber that the two men were arguing. ‘What’s the matter?’ She glanced from one to the other. They looked serious. Straightening up in the seat, she drained her glass and placed it on the floor at her feet. ‘Come on, guys, find what out cold?’ she demanded cheerfully.

The two men looked at each other, and then Tim nodded. ‘You’re right, she deserves better.’

‘Better than what?’ Amber queried.

Spiro jumped to his feet. ‘Better than my bastard of an uncle.’

‘Oh, please, Spiro, not that again. Why can’t you just be happy that Lucas and I love each other? We accept you and Tim are partners, why can’t you return the favour and accept Lucas and I are partners just the same, instead of bleating on about him being a bastard?’

When she’d first told Tim and Spiro she was moving out to set up home with Lucas, Spiro had tried all ways to get her to change her mind. Finally, in a rage, he’d told her Lucas was the illegitimate child of his grandfather, and his mother was little better than a prostitute, notorious in Athens for her string of lovers, and Lucas was no better. Amber had refused to listen then and she refused to listen now. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I never knew my father. So what does that make me?’

Spiro, his anger subsiding, looked at her with glistening brown eyes full of compassion. ‘I didn’t mean it literally, though that is true. I meant it figuratively, Amber. Lucas does not consider you his partner. He considers you his mistress, nothing more, and easily dispensable.’

‘Only married men have mistresses, Spiro,’ Amber snapped back. ‘You know nothing about my relationship with Lucas.’ Her face paled at Spiro’s hurtful comments. ‘And I think it’s time I left.’ Rising unsteadily to her feet, she glanced down at her old friends. Tim was watching her with compassion, and that hurt more than anything else did. Tim had known her since infant school, surely she should be able to count on his support? But apparently not.

‘Listen to Spiro, Amber. It’s for your own good,’ Tim said quietly.

‘Lucas is good for me and to me, and that is all I need to know.’ Picking up her purse, she slipped her shoes back on her feet.

‘Wait, Amber.’ Spiro stood up and caught her arm as she would have moved towards the door. ‘You are a lovely, highly intelligent girl, with a genius for picking winners in the money markets, but you’re hopelessly naive where men are concerned. Lucas is the only man you have ever known.’

‘He is the only man I want to know. Now, let go of my arm.’

Reluctantly Spiro let her go. ‘Just one more thing, Amber. I know who Lucas intends marrying, and it is not—’

Amber cut in angrily. ‘I am not listening to any more of this,’ an inexplicable fear made her yell. Spiro was half drunk and he was lying, he had to be. ‘You’re lying, and I know why—you can’t bear to see Lucas and I happy together. You want to hurt Lucas by trying to break us up, just because he won’t give you your inheritance ahead of time. I can read you like a book, Spiro, you have to dominate everyone around you. Tim might be happy to let you get away with it, but Lucas won’t and that is what sticks in your craw. Grow up, why don’t you?’

Spiro shook his dark head. ‘You’re blind, Amber, plain blind.’ His dark eyes sought Tim’s, his exasperation showing. ‘Now what?’

Tim grimaced. ‘Give it up, Spiro, she will never believe you.’

‘All right, Amber, think what you like.’ Spiro held his hands up in front of him. ‘But do me one favour—I am dining with my grandfather at the hotel tomorrow night. He is having a bit of a party to celebrate a business deal and hopefully his return to good health. He has asked me to bring you along, and, as you say Lucas will not be back until Saturday, there is nothing to stop you. Will you come?’

Amber was torn. She didn’t want to go anywhere with Spiro, but on the other hand… ‘Your grandfather actually asked you to invite me?’ she queried.

‘Yes, in fact he was insistent.’

‘In that case, yes.’ How kind of him, Amber thought, the old man must know Luca

s was not in London, and so had asked Spiro to bring her to his party.

‘Good, I’ll pick you up at your place at eight.’ She never saw the gleam of determination in Spiro’s eyes, that made him look uncannily like his uncle for a fleeting instant, as she said her goodbyes and left.

Later that night as she slipped a satin nightgown over her head she walked restlessly around the large bedroom she shared with Lucas. Spiro’s bitchy words had upset her more than she wanted to admit. She slid open one of the wardrobe doors that lined two walls, and let her hand trail across the fine fabric of a couple of Lucas’s tailored suits. The faintest lingering trace of his cologne teased her nostrils, and somehow she was reassured. Lucas loved her, she knew he did, and on that thought she climbed into the king-sized bed and sleep claimed her.

Amber glanced at her reflection for the last time in the large mirrored doors of the wardrobes that formed one wall of the bedroom. She looked good, better than good. Great, she told herself. Her hair was washed and brushed until it shone dark gold, and she had clipped the sides up into a coronet on top of her head, while the rest fell down her back like a swathe of silk. She had opted for a classic black DKNY dress—the fine black silk jersey clung to her body like a second skin, the sleeves long and fitted, the skirt ending inches above her knees. The low-cut square neckline exposed the gentle curve of her firm breasts, setting off to perfection the emerald and diamond necklace she had clasped around her throat. The matching drop earrings glinted against the swan-like elegance of her neck. Both had been presents from Lucas. On her feet she wore three-inch-heeled black sandals, adding to her already tall stature.

Picking up her purse and a jade-green pashmina shawl, she walked down the spiral staircase to the vast floor area of the apartment. She loved the polished hardwood floor, and the carefully arranged sofas that picked out the colour in the cashmere rug. In fact she loved her home. But where was Spiro? He was ten minutes late.

She crossed the room to a large desk, her hand reaching out for the telephone. She would try one last time to ring Lucas in New York. Picking up the instrument, she dialled the number. Two minutes later she replaced the receiver, the same reply as she had got earlier echoing in her head. ‘I’m sorry but Mr Karadines is not in the office today, if you would like to leave a message…’ She had also tried his suite at the Karadines Hotel in New York, and got no reply.

The bell rang and she had no time to worry where Lucas was. Spiro had arrived.

Two minutes later she was seated in the back of a taxicab with Spiro looking very elegant in a conservative black dinner suit and white shirt; the only hint at his rebellious personality was a vibrantly striped bow-tie in red, green and blue.

‘You look rather nice,’ Amber said with a grin. ‘Though I don’t know about the bow-tie.’

‘And you, dear girl, look as stunning as ever.’ But there was no smile in his eyes as he reached out and caught both of Amber’s hands in his.