Not Just the Greek's Wife

chapter TWELVE


CHLOE stood on the balcony of Ariston’s personal suite on his ship, the Colossus.

How appropriate that they were docking in Rhodes tomorrow.

She’d been shocked when he’d informed her that he’d arranged for them to take a cruise to celebrate their remarriage. They would fly to Piraeus and sail from that port. For a guy who insisted this was purely a business arrangement and better for being so, the man had a hugely romantic streak.

He’d said no romance, but two dozen peach roses, her favorite, filled their suite with delectable fragrance and a bottle of celebratory champagne—her favorite vintage—had greeted them on arrival.

He was pulling out all the stops, but she didn’t know why. What more did he hope to gain?

He already had her agreement to give him the children Takis was so keen on spoiling. It was Ariston who insisted they use condoms until she’d gained a minimum of ten pounds.

Maybe that was what this cruise was about? The way they were fed, she was going to gain at least five pounds in the next ten days.

And she wasn’t doing it with the healthiest alternatives either. Ariston had left both their personal trainers behind.

He never traveled without his, but when she’d asked him about it, he’d said it was their honeymoon. As if that was an answer.

When their marriage was about anything but romance.

The skirt of her green dress fluttered around her legs from the wind coming off the Mediterranean. She’d loved the dress when they’d seen it in the boutique, but didn’t think she’d wear it as often in the longer length.

So, Ariston had had it altered to mid-calf and she loved the way it made her feel. Both his attention and the gorgeous cut of the dress that disguised her deficiencies and played up her figure’s positives.

She had to work doubly hard to maintain her perspective when it felt like Ariston was doing everything in his power to undermine her careful intentions.

“What has you thinking so seriously?” he asked as warm, muscular arms came around her.

“Nothing, really. Just watching the ocean.”

“Yes?”

“I’m really enjoying this cruise, Ariston. Thank you for taking the time to make it happen.”

“You are welcome. It does not bother you that I spend a couple of hours each morning keeping track of my business?”

Truthfully? She relished it. She needed a break from him to shore up her defenses every day. They were close enough to crumbling as it was.

“No, of course not. SSE will not run itself.”

“No.” There was a quality to his voice she did not understand.

“How is the takeover of Dioletis Industries coming?”

“I prefer merger. And it is going according to plan. Your sister seems quite pleased.”

“She has no reason not to be.”

He turned Chloe in his arms so their eyes met. “And you? Do you have any reasons to be less than pleased?”

“No.”

“You are certain.” His gaze was far too penetrating for comfort.

She looked away. “Yes, of course.”

“That is the classic indication one is telling a lie.”

Her gaze flew back to his. “What?”

“To look away before or during speech.”

“Well, I’m not lying.” Just uncomfortable discussing how very happy with her circumstances she was.

She shouldn’t be this happy, but there was no denying that she was.

“So, you would not undo our marriage if you could?”

“What?” Had he lost his mind? “No!”

“You were coerced.”

“That didn’t seem to matter to you when you were doing it.” And now was a very odd time for him to be having second thoughts on his tactics.

“I have come to appreciate that it would be more pleasant for both of us if you were as content to be married to me as I am to be married to you.”

Content? What a weak word, though something loosened in her chest at his claim to it.

“I’m more than content,” she said with more honesty than maybe he deserved. “I’m happy.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“You are not a clingy woman.”

Where was this coming from? “No.”

“You are more than happy to spend time away from me, even on our honeymoon?”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Was this about his ego? “You are spending no more than a couple of hours on your computer, maybe another on the phone. Considering the work hours you normally keep, I’ve felt very privileged you give so little time to SSE each day. It would be really churlish of me to complain about it.”

“Oh. I see. That is good. I am glad you are not feeling neglected.”

She moved closer, until their bodies touched. “I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to show how very much you aren’t neglecting me again.”

“In this, we are very compatible, are we not?” he asked with the air of a man trying to work something out in his head.

“Unbelievably so, really, when you consider how we came to be together.”

Instead of kissing her like she hoped and pretty much expected, he stepped back. “It bothers you that our marriage is the result of a business arrangement.”

“We already had this discussion.”

“And I explained to you that it is a better basis for marriage than so-called love.”

“In your opinion.”

“But not yours.”

She saw the trap almost too late. If she said no, he’d wonder why she’d been willing to marry him despite her beliefs. It was only one step farther for him to realize she was in love with him, always had been, and always would be.

“I agreed to this marriage and I don’t regret it.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It certainly is, even if it’s not the one you wanted. Even you, Ariston Spiridakou, cannot always get what you want.”

His gorgeous blue eyes narrowed. “Do not be too certain of that, yineka mou. I am very good at getting what I desire.”

A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine, but he gave her no chance to regroup, sweeping her into the mind-numbing kiss she’d expected moments ago.

They walked into Rhodes from the cruise ship docks just like everyone else.

Chloe was amazed by the sight of the city before they even got beyond the ancient outer wall. “This is incredible. The wall goes all around the city?” she asked Ariston.

“The old town, yes. You will enjoy the marketplace, especially the artist in you.”

“I’m not much of an artist.”

“You have talent.”

“Some,” she agreed. Not enough to dedicate her life to it, but enough to enjoy losing herself in painting.

“More than a little, but certainly enough of an artist’s soul, regardless, to appreciate the rich texture of this port.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“I’ve been to all the ports my ships dock. Though I’d been here years ago, with Pappous as a child on holiday.”

“From your tone you have fond memories.”

“All my good childhood memories are from times spent with my grandfather.”

“He is a wonderful man.”

“Yes.”

Ariston was right about the market. It was so busy, so many shops with a plethora of color and imagery. The juxtaposition of a modern eatery only a few feet from a centuries-old fountain still cascading water kept her snapping photo after photo.

She caught sight of a painting in one of the shop windows. It was of the view from the Rhodes harbor and done by an artist who clearly loved his subject matter.

When Ariston noticed her admiring it, he wanted to go inside to purchase it. She nodded at him, waving him away as she crouched to get a shot of a small child playing in the water of the fountain.

When she stood up, one of the security team stood at a discreet distance, but Ariston had gone. The sun was already high in the sky and Chloe felt the wave of heat press down on her. They’d been shopping since early morning.

She approached the outdoor café, thinking a cold drink sounded good right about then. Two men were in charge of luring patrons and seating them.

One of them approached her, a glimmer of devilment in his dark gaze that she couldn’t help but appreciate. “You would like to take a seat out of the sun, miss?”

“Yes.”

“A table,” he said with a wave of his hand to his helper. “For one?”

She shook her head. “Two, please.” She knew from experience, the security team would refuse to sit down themselves.

The area was too crowded and they would feel hampered by the confines of space.

“Ah, so you do not travel alone? I thought we could find a nice Rhodesian husband for you.” That glimmer of devilment had developed into a full-grown teasing grin.

She laughed, knowing it was part of the charm and maybe even shtick of the place.

“That will not be necessary,” came in clipped Greek.

She turned to share her smile with Ariston only to find him glaring at the hapless café host.

The man stepped back a respectful distance. “Of course not, sir. Your table is just this way.”

“You are thirsty?” Ariston asked rather than reply, or move toward the table.

“I am.” She took his arm and tugged. “And you can either have a refreshment with me or stand glowering in the square. I know which I’d prefer.”

“Since you are pulling me along like a cart, I will assume it is my company.”

“Yes, though right this second, I’m not sure why.”

“He offered to get you a husband.” Irritation more than laced his voice—it drowned it.

“It was a joke, Ariston. The rock you put on my finger is big enough for even the visually challenged to spot.”

“I thought you liked your ring.”

“Oh, for goodness’ … I love my ring. Now, will you please sit down and order us both some fresh lemonade?”

For once, her oh-so-powerful husband did exactly as he was told. The host himself brought their drinks with a wink for her and a respectful salute to Ariston.

She managed to stifle her giggle, but her smile wasn’t going anywhere.

Ariston finally matched it. “You are enjoying yourself.”

“More than I can possibly say.”

“I am very glad.”

“You are a wonderfully attentive husband, Ariston. Thank you.”

“It comes with the job description, I think.”

“But you do it better than most I’ve seen.” And always had, love or no love.

He preened under the compliment, but kept any arrogant remarks to himself. Full points for the billionaire tycoon on that one.

Santorini was every bit as magical in its pristine blue and white beauty as she’d expected it to be.

The steep ride up the cliff in the cable car made her nervous, but even Ariston couldn’t cajole her into riding a smelly donkey up the switchbacked trail to the same destination.

They ate dinner at a small restaurant overlooking the harbor, the view of the cruise ships spectacular. “Colossus is truly that, isn’t it?”

Ariston nodded with proud satisfaction. “My fleet of ships are some of the largest sailing the cruise routes.”

“Well, if the Colossus is anything to go by, they’re incredibly luxurious, as well.”

“It is my intention that each guest to sail on the Spiridakou fleet feel pampered and outside of their normal life.”

“I certainly do.”

He grinned. “If I can effect that for a billionaire’s wife, then I consider my goal accomplished.”

She didn’t mention that she’d been living like a smalltown business owner the past two years. The truth was, even Ariston’s lifestyle had no chance of spoiling her like the staff on the cruise ship had.

“Tomorrow, we go to Crete?”

“Yes. We will go on a tour of the island just like the other tourists,” he said with some satisfaction.

She smiled wryly. “Other tourists don’t travel with a security detail.”

He shrugged.

And really, what could be said? Ariston had lived his whole life with bodyguards watching his every movement, and they were only more necessary now that he’d taken the company so much farther than his grandfather.

Walking the streets of Kusadasi, Turkey, their final day in port, Chloe had all but given up on trying to keep her emotional distance from Ariston.

She’d managed to hold back words of love, but that was about it.

Treating her with all the consideration and even open affection of any new husband for his bride, Ariston made it too hard for her to maintain her defenses.

While touring the ruins of ancient Ephesus that morning, they’d been asked by several people if they were newlyweds. Because they behaved like it, not like two people who had agreed with cold calculation to a business deal.

He’d taken pains to read up on the ruins and acted as her personal tour guide through the ancient city. She’d been more than charmed; she’d been bowled over by his consideration and forethought.

This man didn’t have time for stuff like that, yet he’d made it … for her. What did it all mean?

She’d been determined not to speculate on that particular question this time around, but like with most everything else in regard to her husband, Chloe’s intentions had gone flying out the window.

Each day of their honeymoon, she fell more deeply under the spell that was Ariston and couldn’t even make herself worry about how deeply in love she was with her husband.

“Would you like to buy a rug for the foyer in the townhouse?” Ariston asked, interrupting her thoughts.

He’d stopped in front of one of the shops that sold the hand-stitched carpets the Turkish people were so well known for. She knew exactly which patterned rug in the window had caught her husband’s eyes. It was a traditional pattern with dark burgundy the dominant color, and she was almost positive that it was the silk weave, rather than polished cotton.

She learned she was right a few minutes later when they’d been seated and offered the traditional apple tea.

Their salesman, nephew to the man who owned the shop, asked politely after their family and welfare before asking if there was a particular carpet that had caught their eye.

When Ariston told him which he’d like to see, the salesman’s eyes lit up. “Ah, a very fine choice. The weave is very tight—the silk will last three hundred years or more.”

He waved at a younger man he introduced as his younger cousin. “Show these fine people our beautiful carpets, Achim.”

Soon carpets were twirling and landing at their feet on the floor, each angle showing a different intensity to the pattern’s colors. Because a Turkish rug merchant never showed just one carpet—he provided comparisons and options in abundance. She’d learned that on their first trip to Turkey.

Just as enthralled by the display as she’d been the first time she’d seen such a thing on their original honeymoon, Chloe sipped delicately at her hot beverage and soaked in the experience.

When one very similar to the carpet in the window, but in a larger size, landed on the pile in front of them, she knew they’d found the one for their home.

Ariston appeared to agree, asking to see that particular carpet up close. Then the haggling began and at the end of it, Chloe was doing all she could not to smack both her husband and the salesman upside the head.

As they left the shop, she demanded, “Was that really necessary? You two spent more than half the time arguing over a difference of a few dollars. You could have paid full price and not even noticed the blip in your checkbook.”

“I do not keep a checkbook. Everything is electronic or cash nowadays, yineka mou.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

Ariston grinned down at her, the happiness in his expression arresting. “Had I taken his initial price, at best he would have been offended. At worst he would have considered me a rube.”

She laughed at her husband’s prioritizing. She couldn’t help herself.

“You really believe he would have been offended if you hadn’t tried to talk him down that last twenty dollars?” She didn’t buy it.

“That was just for fun. Did you not see how much he enjoyed the exchange?”

“You both enjoyed it too much.”

“No indeed. It was just enough.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, the affectionate tenderness of the action going straight to her heart. “Now you have a memory to put with the carpet every time you walk in our foyer.”

“Watch out, someone is going to think you are a closet romantic, Ariston.” Someone like his wife.

“I am sure my reputation can handle it.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. The carpet you purchased for me on our first honeymoon—”

“With a lot less haggling,” she interjected. “You paid too much, but I did not mind.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“What about it?” she asked when he said nothing further as they meandered back toward the cruise dock.

“Hmm?”

“The carpet in your office—you were saying something about it when I interrupted you.”

“Oh, yes. Only that it has brought a smile to my face on many occasions.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“Because you think I paid too much?” And he found that amusing?

“Because it reminds me of your very generous nature. Do you remember how you asked the merchant, who happened to be father and uncle to the women who made it, if you could give him money to pass directly onto the weavers in thanks for their skill and efforts?”

Honestly, she’d forgotten. “He was really pleased,” she remembered.

“Yes. As I’m sure the women were as well to receive the money.”

“So? That makes you smile, to think of that?” she clarified.

“Yes. Thoughts of you often make me smile.”

“If you don’t watch it, I’m going to think you’ve fallen for me.”

He didn’t look the least worried by the idea. “It is only natural that I should enjoy thoughts of my wife.”

“Way to sidestep the issue.”

He stopped in the street and looked down at her, his azure eyes probing. “Is there an issue?”

“No.”

“You are happy?”

“Very much so.” He made her feel like the most important woman in the world and how could she be anything less than thrilled with that?

Maybe words weren’t as important as actions. She’d still like them—those three very important words that said so much—but wasn’t about to live the rest of her life pining for something she might never have.

Enjoying what she did have sounded so much smarter.