Her Greek Groom: The Tycoon's Mistress / Smokescreen Marriage / His Forbidden Bride

‘So, what do you dream of, Cressida mou?’

‘Oh, dreams are like wishes.’ She twisted round, pretending to take a last look at the villa on the headland. ‘If you talk about them, they don’t come true.’

‘Then tell me this,’ he said. ‘Why did you come back here?’

Cressy swallowed. ‘I—I wanted to see more of Myros.’

He sighed impatiently. ‘Must I look into your eyes to know the truth, agapi mou?’

She said, almost inaudibly, ‘And because you asked me…’

‘Even though you knew that I wanted you—what I would ask?’

She swung back, tears stinging her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Is that what you want to hear, Kyrios Draco? That I wanted you so much I came back to offer myself…’ The stumbling words choked into silence.

‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I—needed to hear that, agapi mou.’

His arm encircled her, drawing her against him. ‘Don’t cry, my golden one—my treasure,’ he whispered against her hair as she buried her face in his shoulder. ‘And don’t be ashamed of what you feel.’

‘How can I help it?’ Her voice was muffled.

‘You imagine I do not want you—because I have been patient?’ His voice sank to a whisper. ‘I have had to force myself to remain cool, but no longer. I have to speak—to tell you everything in my heart.’

He paused. ‘My life is yours, Cressida mou. Be my wife and stay with me for ever. Work beside me each day and lie in my arms at night.’

His body was shaking against hers. As she lifted her head she saw the proud face strangely anxious, the firm mouth incredibly vulnerable.

She put up her hand and touched his cheek, brushing her thumb softly across his lips.

She whispered, ‘I’ll stay…’

He kissed her once, his mouth hard, almost fierce on hers. Telling her beyond doubt how precarious that taut control really was.

‘I must wait for more,’ he told her as he reluctantly released her, his mouth twisting. ‘I want to live with you, my bride, not drown with you.’

She laughed, leaning back in his embrace, the breeze from the sea lifting her hair, happiness warming her like her own private sun.

Lips touching her hair, Draco whispered words of love and need, his voice raw as he switched to his own language.

‘I wish I could understand what you’re saying,’ Cressy sighed, her fingers lightly caressing the strong arm that held her so securely.

‘I will tell you one day.’ There was a smile in his voice. ‘But only when we are married.’

In the hour it took to return to Myros harbour, they also made some practical plans.

It was agreed that Cressy would catch the midday ferry to Alakos, to pack the rest of her things and check out of the Hellenic Imperial. And make a few necessary phone calls, she thought, with a sudden bump of nervousness.

‘I would take you myself,’ Draco said, frowning. ‘But there are things I must do at my house, arrangements I must make.’ He paused. ‘You’ll stay there with me until our marriage, pethi mou? You’ll trust me?’

‘Is that really necessary?’ Flushing slightly, Cressy met his gaze directly. ‘Draco—I love you. I want to belong to you.’

‘And so you will,’ he said gently. ‘In our house, in our bed, on our wedding night. That is how it must be, Cressida mou.’

She shook her head. ‘You have a will of iron, kyrie.’

His gaze caressed her. ‘When you look at me like that, kyria, I have no will at all.’

At the taverna, she went up to collect her things, leaving Draco to talk to Yannis.

As she fastened her travel bag she heard a sound behind her, and looked round to find Maria standing in the doorway.

‘Maria.’ Cressy smiled at her a little shyly. ‘You’ve heard the news? I’m hoping very much that you’ll lend me your wedding dress again.’

‘Kyria Cressida.’ Maria took a step forward, her face troubled. ‘Are you sure about this? Kyrios Draco—how well do you know him?’

‘I know that I love him.’

‘You should take care,’ Maria said quietly. ‘This is not a marriage of equals.’

Cressy bit her lips. ‘I understand what you’re trying to say. That we’ll have to make more adjustments than other couples. But…’

Maria gestured impatiently. ‘That is not what I mean. There are things you do not know.’

Cressy stared at her. ‘What sort of things?’

Yannis shouted Maria’s name from below and she turned to go. ‘I cannot say more. But you must be careful.’ She left Cressy staring after her.

She was quiet as she walked down to the ferry with Draco at her side.

‘Already regrets?’ He smiled at her.

‘No,’ she denied, a little too quickly. She wanted to ask about Maria’s warning, but it needed an oblique approach, and there wasn’t time because people were already boarding the ferry.

He kissed her mouth, and she felt his thumb trace the sign of the cross on her forehead.

‘Come to me soon,’ he whispered. ‘I shall be waiting for you, my beloved.’

As she collected her key from Hotel Reception, Cressy wondered what the deferential concierge would say if he knew she was planning to marry one of his countrymen.

She’d had time to think on the ferry trip, but hadn’t come to any firm conclusions.

Perhaps Maria simply doubted that Draco had sufficient means to support a wife. After all, Cressy had little real idea of what he did for a living, she realised with a touch of unease.

Or had there been something more cynical in her warning? Did Maria suspect that Cressy’s real attraction for Draco was as an affluent tourist?

But I’m not rich, and he knows it, Cressy thought. I’m well paid, but when I stop working that’ll be it. And I’ve still got rent to pay, and bills to settle back in England.

On the other hand even quite modest savings might seem a fortune to an impecunious fisherman.