The Greek's Unknown Bride

No matter how much she might be falling deeper in love with the man.

Her feet missed a step and she stumbled. Apollo put his arm around her to steady her. ‘Okay?’

She forced a smile. ‘Fine.’

Liar.

She couldn’t ever afford to forget that she was only here because her sister had gone to this man and told a heinous lie, trapping him into a marriage. He never would have gone after Sophy. She never would have seen him again. She welcomed the dart of pain because this would be nothing compared to the pain she’d feel if she entertained fantasies.

The town comprised of a few artisan shops and a beautiful old Greek orthodox church that was being prepared for the wedding. There was a growing air of excitement.

Apollo led her down another side street and they passed a boutique. Sophy’s feet stopped in their tracks. It was a simple boutique but there was a dress in the window that caught her attention. Caught her heart.

It was light blue broderie anglaise. Off the shoulder. The bodice was fitted and it fell in soft folds to below the knees. It was simple and unsophisticated. Not the kind of thing Sasha would have chosen in a million years. But she wasn’t Sasha. She was Sophy and she wasn’t sophisticated.

‘You like that dress?’

Embarrassed, Sophy started to walk off. ‘No, no, it just caught my eye.’

But Apollo didn’t budge. ‘It would suit you. Try it on.’

Sophy tried to desist but Apollo was tugging her towards the shop. The saleswoman had seen them too and was opening the door. Too late to turn back. She was obviously delighted that the saviour of the island was frequenting her humble establishment.

They went in and before Sophy could object, she was being whisked off to a changing area.

Apollo paced the floor of the shop. This was something he didn’t usually indulge in—dressing his lovers. It would give the wrong impression. But right now he didn’t really care. He just wanted to see Sophy in that dress.

He heard a noise behind him and turned. For a moment he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He almost reached to his neck to loosen his tie but realised he wasn’t wearing one.

He’d seen women in some of the skimpiest and most expensive haute couture but none of them had had this effect on him. The dress shouldn’t be having this effect on him. But it wasn’t the dress, it was the woman in the dress. She epitomised simple fresh-faced beauty. No adornment.

The bodice hugged her torso, around her high firm breasts and then fell in soft folds to below her knees. Her feet were bare. Her hair was pulled back, highlighting her slim shoulders and neck. He could see where the sun had turned her skin a light gold. She had more freckles.

His voice felt strangled when he said, ‘We’ll buy it.’

Sophy immediately started protesting but he just signalled to the owner that they’d take it and she whisked Sophy back to the changing area.

When Sophy emerged again Apollo was paying for the dress and accepting it in a bag. She felt conflicted—thrilled to have the dress but weird because he’d paid for it. Sasha had always favoured boyfriends with money who would buy her things and the sheer volume of clothes here and in Athens was testament to how much she’d squeezed out of Apollo.

When they walked out of the shop into the street Sophy said stiffly, ‘I really didn’t expect you to buy the dress.’

‘It looks good on you, wear it this evening at the wedding festivities.’

He was putting his shades on again, oblivious to Sophy’s turmoil. She didn’t move. ‘I want to pay you back for the dress.’ She realised she had nothing, and not only that, she would have most certainly lost her job. There was only a meagre balance in her bank account back in England because she’d loaned Sasha money not long before she’d disappeared to Greece with Apollo. The knowledge that she’d most likely funded Sasha’s trip to betray her made her feel even more prickly. ‘I mean, when I can. I insist.’

Apollo looked at her. ‘Fine. Whatever you want. I can get your people to liaise with my people and set up an electronic transfer for the princely sum of thirty euros.’ His mouth quirked.

‘Don’t laugh at me.’

His mouth straightened. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. ‘I know you’re not your sister, Sophy. You’re nothing like her, believe me.’

‘You couldn’t tell us apart after the accident.’

Apollo arched a brow over his shades. ‘Couldn’t I? I never wanted her the way I want you.’

He kissed her there in the street, with people passing by. Sophy was aware of whispers and giggles and she couldn’t stop her silly heart soaring.

When they returned to the town early that evening, Sophy felt self-conscious in the dress. She’d dressed it up a bit by pulling her hair into a bun on the top of her head and choosing a pair of Sasha’s strappy silver sandals.