The Marakaios Marriage (The Marakaios Brides 1)

‘Everything all right here?’ Antonios asked as he strolled up to them. His voice was pleasant but his gaze had snapped to Lindsay, and she could see the question in his eyes.

‘Fine,’ Leonidas answered for both of them. ‘Just getting to know my sister-in-law. Wondering what she sees in you.’ Lindsay thought Leonidas had meant this as a joke, but it fell rather flat.

‘I wonder myself every day,’ Antonios answered, his voice light but his face unsmiling. ‘Lindsay, there are some people who would like to meet you. The Atrikes family. They’re local business owners. Why don’t you come with me?’ He held out his hand and, with a moment’s hesitant glance at Leonidas, whose expression had ironed out to bland boredom, she took it.

‘What’s going on between you and Leonidas?’ she asked when they were alone in a private alcove off the library.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You clearly don’t get along,’ Lindsay said bluntly. ‘And yet you work together.’

Antonios twitched his shoulders in an impatient shrug. ‘Nothing more than a little brotherly competition.’

‘Over what?’ He just shrugged again, not answering, and frustration fired through her. ‘Antonios, can’t you tell me? You didn’t like it when you were in the dark about how I was feeling, but now you’re the same—’

‘It’s just a business matter—’ he cut her off, his tone dismissive ‘—it will sort itself out.’

‘What kind of business matter?’

‘Nothing you need to concern yourself about.’ He’d kept his voice mild but Lindsay still felt the rebuke. Nothing he wanted to concern her with, he’d meant.

‘You’re doing so well tonight, Lindsay,’ he continued, and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. ‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, the most elegant and poised. I’m proud of you.’

She smiled and turned her face so he could kiss her on the mouth. He did so, lingeringly, and Lindsay knew both of them were thinking about later that evening, after the party, when they could be alone.

‘I’m proud of you, Antonios,’ she told him. ‘You’ve led your family and your business so well in the absence of your father. So many people have been telling me how you’ve taken the helm of Marakaios Enterprises without a single misstep.’

Antonios smiled at this, but it was a small, tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

‘We should go. The Atrikes family are waiting.’

A little while later they headed back to the living area, where Xanthe and Parthenope were ushering people towards the dining room, where platters of food were laid out.

Daphne rose from her chair, her hands outstretched towards Antonios. ‘Antonios, Lindsay. Come celebrate with me.’

Lindsay came forward and took Daphne’s hand, feeling how fragile it was in hers, the skin papery, the bones seeming hollow, like a bird’s.

Daphne smiled wryly, as if she noticed Lindsay’s awareness, and squeezed her hand. ‘Tonight is for happiness,’ she said quietly, and her gaze moved to Antonios. ‘Yes?’

‘Yes,’ Lindsay said firmly and gently squeezed her mother-in-law’s hand back.

The party lasted until well after midnight, even though Daphne excused herself earlier, tired as she was. By the time she and Antonios returned to their little villa, Lindsay was exhausted, her feet aching.

‘I think it was a success,’ she said as she kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. She hadn’t had a single moment of true anxiety, at least in part because Antonios had been aware of when she needed to take a step back, have a moment’s space and peace.

‘I think so,’ Antonios agreed. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and undid the knot of his tie. Even though he’d been his charming, confident self throughout the whole evening, Lindsay had sensed his restlessness and tension and it felt like a thorn in her side, in their marriage.

‘Are you sure everything is all right, Antonios?’ she asked. ‘Between you and Leonidas?’

‘It’s fine,’ he dismissed and took her into his arms. ‘And the last thing I want to talk or even think about now is my brother. Do you know how beautiful you look in that dress?’

Lindsay glanced down at the pale blue evening gown she wore, the silk rippling in a shimmering sheet to the floor, reminding her of water. She’d never cared much about clothes one way or the other, but she loved the look on Antonios’s face when he saw her in something beautiful. When he so clearly thought she was beautiful.

‘You look gorgeous,’ Antonios said in a growl as he pulled her to him. ‘But I couldn’t stop thinking about peeling it off you all evening.’

Lindsay laughed softly, already breathless with anticipation. ‘And will you make that a reality, do you think?’

‘I intend to right now.’ His gaze blazed into hers as he reached around to her back and slowly, sensuously, tugged the zip all the way down to her hips. The dress fell from her shoulders and, with one tiny shrug, it slid down to her waist.

The style had precluded the wearing of a bra and Lindsay wasn’t so generously endowed that she needed one, so now she stood before him, completely bare to the waist, basking in the admiration, the adoration she saw in his eyes.

A lump of emotion rose in her throat and Antonios tugged her towards him by the hand. ‘What are you thinking?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘You look as if you’re about to cry.’

‘I was wondering how I ever could have left you,’ Lindsay whispered, her voice catching. ‘Even for a moment.’

He pulled her towards him, her breasts colliding with the crisp cotton of his shirt, the friction sending shivery arrows of pleasure ricocheting through her. ‘Never again,’ Antonios whispered against her hair as he slid his hands up her bare back to cradle her face. ‘Never leave me again, Lindsay. Promise. I couldn’t bear it.’

‘I promise,’ she whispered, and then lost herself to Antonios’s passionate, desperate kiss.

* * *

The next few weeks seemed to pass in a golden blur of contentment and joy: days spent working on her research or walking through the countryside, taking the first steps in getting to know Antonios’s family. His sisters were still a little guarded, but they’d thawed when Lindsay had, at Antonios’s urging, explained about her anxiety.

Parthenope’s face had fallen and she’d pulled Lindsay into a spontaneous hug. ‘You should have told us. It would have made such a difference.’

‘Parthenope thought you were a snob,’ Ava confided and Parthenope pulled away from Lindsay, blushing.

‘Ava!’

‘Because you’re so smart,’ Ava continued, shooting her sister a mischievous glance. ‘She’s jealous, really. I’m the only one who went to university.’

‘I got married instead,’ Parthenope said, her cheeks bright red.

‘I’m not sure a doctorate in number theory is something to be jealous of,’ Lindsay said wryly. Her mind reeled from her sisters-in-law’s admissions. ‘It’s not very useful.’

‘Antonios told us it was,’ Xanthe piped up. ‘He said it would help with all sorts of advancements in technology and science.’

‘Well, maybe,’ Lindsay allowed. The thought that Antonios had championed her research sent a tingling warmth through her.

‘We did wonder if you thought you were too good for us,’ Parthenope admitted, her face still flushed, and Lindsay’s jaw nearly dropped.

‘I never thought that,’ she said. ‘Not once.’

They all smiled at each other, awkwardly and yet with affection, and while Lindsay knew she might not have been what Antonios’s sisters had been expecting or even wanting for his wife, she knew they accepted her. A few weeks ago their acceptance would have made her feel guilty, wondering yet again if she should have been honest about her issues when she’d been in Greece before. Now she recognized that she couldn’t have been, that both she and Antonios were different people now, capable of different things.

A week after Daphne’s birthday party Antonios had asked her if they could move into the main villa. ‘My mother would like us there,’ he said. ‘And I would like to be there. We’ll have our own wing, and you can redecorate as you like—’

His thoughtfulness nearly brought tears to her eyes. ‘Of course we can move back to the main villa,’ she said.

Yet it was a little strange to be back in the house where she’d once been so unhappy. She walked down the upstairs corridor, her footsteps muffled on the thick carpet, and remembered how she’d run up these stairs, spots dancing before her eyes, everything in her aching, as she’d excused herself from yet another endless social function, Antonios so wilfully oblivious.

In the huge sumptuous bathroom she remembered how she’d locked the door and curled up against the marble tub, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth as she’d tried to calm her racing heart.

And in the bedroom she remembered how Antonios had brought her such incredible pleasure, and how she’d left him one chilly morning, the grey light of dawn filtering through the curtains as she’d kissed him goodbye and felt her heart break.