Not Just the Greek's Wife

chapter EIGHT


IT took Chloe closer to three weeks than two to train her replacements and put her affairs in order.

Though she’d only lived in the small coastal community that catered to tourists for less than two years, she’d built up a life there. One that wasn’t defined entirely by the time she spent in her gallery and shop.

She was an adjunct member of the chamber of commerce as well as fundraising coordinator for their annual dinner auction. Finding someone to fulfill her community responsibilities took all her time outside her hours in the shop.

Well, the hours not taken up by Ariston’s frequent phone calls. He hadn’t been happy when she’d changed her flight to a week later before telling him.

He’d been positively cranky when she’d started making noises about having to do so again. That conversation had happened the night before and she hadn’t heard from him since. She would be grateful if she wasn’t certain it was the calm before the storm.

She might even miss the calls, though she wouldn’t admit that—even under pressure.

While she was concerned about a lot of things, she wasn’t worried he’d changed his mind. According to Rhea the merger/takeover was in full swing.

Chloe’s musings were interrupted by the soft chimes announcing a customer in the gallery. Her new managers were organizing an inventory delivery in the shop next door, so she was manning the gallery alone. One of her final opportunities to do so—she was relishing her time here.

It had been a quiet morning, however, since they’d opened an hour ago.

Looking forward to interacting with a customer, she got up from her desk. She’d been making a list of people to contact in hopes of finding a new fundraising coordinator to replace her. So far, there were only two names on it and neither was she keen on.

The one woman she’d thought would do a stellar job had turned Chloe down because of prior commitments.

Forcing away the discouraging thoughts, Chloe curved her lips in her routine customer-welcoming smile only to have it freeze as she recognized her visitor.

“Ariston! What are you doing here?”

“Collecting my errant lover.” His cerulean gaze was too serious to be kidding.

“But—”

“I have brought a professional fundraiser and event planner with me,” he said, interrupting whatever she’d been about to say.

And honestly, Chloe wasn’t sure what that was. In order to have arrived right now, he’d have had to have left New York at the crack of dawn to have made the cross-continental flight, not to mention the drive from the nearest airport that could service his company jet.

Chloe’s gaze slid to the polished woman standing at Ariston’s side. Wearing a suit by a midlevel designer that would impress, but not intimidate the locals, the woman’s smile was just as perfectly targeted.

She put her manicured hand out. “Angela Carston. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Spiridakou.”

“Ms., actually.” Chloe shook the other woman’s hand. “But you can call me Chloe. You’re really here for the annual dinner auction?”

“Angela, please. And your husband is paying me a very nice fee to do just that, yes.”

“Ex … husband, that is. And thank you for being here, regardless of your reasons for doing it. I’ll be able to fly to New York once I get you up to speed on what’s been done so far and our objectives for the auction.”

She turned to Ariston, but he looked a lot less pleased than she would have expected now that he was irrefutably getting his way.

“That should only take me a few hours, at most,” she told him. “This isn’t a Spiridakou & Sons Enterprises event, or even close to that magnitude.”

He didn’t smile, but he did nod. “Good. You can do so on the plane back to New York.”

“She can’t do the job from New York.”

“She will not. Angela will fly back commercially later this week.”

“Why did you make her fly out to begin with, then?” She frowned at him, not liking the idea the other woman had been forced duplicate travel on Chloe’s behalf. “You could have told me about it over the phone.”

“I assumed you would want to meet Angela before you allowed her to take over.”

“You didn’t show me the same courtesy regarding my own business.” Though she had to give him full marks for his choice in managers for her store and gallery.

The middle-aged couple were both enamored of the art world and Chloe had liked the wife’s work so much, she’d offered a permanent revolving spot in her gallery for the woman to sell her pottery.

“They were ideal,” he countered, as if reading her mind.

She smiled, unable to help herself. “They are.”

“And yet you are not in New York today.” His frown held something akin to consternation.

“I’m not leaving here without making sure my obligations are all taken care of.”

“So you said on the phone last night.”

“And your answer was to hire a fundraising expert?”

His shrug said it all.

If he saw a problem, he fixed it.

Chloe shook her head. “You’re probably paying Angela more than the funds we expect to raise with the auction.”

“I offered to donate a lump sum in lieu of the auction.” There was no mistaking the disgruntlement he felt at her rejection of his money.

“The auction isn’t just about raising funds for community projects. It’s a social event residents of the area look forward to all year long.”

“That was the impression you gave, yes.”

“Ariston!”

“What?”

“You’re very frustrating.”

“I do not understand why. You expressed your concerns and here am I, meeting them.”

Suddenly realizing that she and Ariston had stood there talking as if Angela wasn’t even in the gallery, Chloe felt heat crawl up her cheeks. She had ignored the other woman’s presence to the extent that Chloe had as good as gotten into an argument with Ariston in front of her.

A headache forming right behind her left eye, Chloe turned to the newly hired event coordinator and grimaced apologetically. “Please pardon my lack of manners. Thank you very much for flying across country at a moment’s notice to take on this job.”

“I’m happy to be here,” Angela replied, looking supremely unfazed by her very last-minute double cross-continental trips.

“Not that you’ll be here very long at this point.” Chloe’s grimace slipped into a full frown. “You can’t be looking forward to hopping right back onto the plane.”

Angela smiled winningly. “My job often calls for travel and I’ve got to say, flying in the Spiridakou jet is a lot more comfortable than commercial.”

“It is,” Chloe had to agree. “But even the most comfortable transportation doesn’t make up for spending so many hours of a single day in the air.”

“I notice you evince no concern on my behalf,” Ariston interjected in a teasing tone.

She found no humor to match his at that moment. “You do exactly what you like, Ariston.”

“Are you implying that I shanghaied Angela? I can assure you that is not the case.”

“No, indeed,” the event coordinator affirmed. “Ariston presented a very appealing offer, both in terms of remuneration and scope.”

“Then, here’s hoping his perception meets reality for you.” Because Chloe would not be happy with either of them if Angela didn’t follow through on the job.

If Chloe put their departure off with one more excuse, Ariston fully intended to simply pick her up and carry her off to the airport.

She’d insisted she needed to go over things with her new managers one last time, and then that the mayor had to meet Angela Carston and approve her taking over Chloe’s role as fundraiser for the community auction. Chloe hadn’t stopped there though, as Ariston might reasonably expect.

No, she’d then been adamant that she needed to call one of the local artists personally and tell him she was leaving for New York. According to Chloe, she’d already introduced him to the new managers, but the artist was both brilliant and a recluse, which meant a little extra coddling to make sure he knew he wasn’t being forgotten.

Ariston had actually found himself getting jealous until Chloe informed him the artist was in his sixties and determinedly gay.

When she’d said … finally … that she needed to pack her things up in the hotel room, that at least Ariston had been able to do something about. He’d instructed his security team to take care of it while Chloe and Angela met with the mayor.

But the meeting was over and Ariston was ready to be on the road. Had been hours ago, to be precise. “Come, Chloe. It is a ninety-minute drive to the airport.”

“Yes, I know.” Chloe took a last sweeping glance around her hotel room, much as she had the gallery when they’d left it.

He did not see what could have put that wistful look in her emerald eyes. “Surely you will not miss living out of suitcases?”

“I wasn’t,” she contradicted while following him to the car.

“No. You had unpacked and organized your belongings as if preparing for a long stay.” He helped her into the back of the rented limo and the door shut behind them.

“Where is Angela?”

“She’s riding with the security team in the SUV.”

Chloe craned her neck to see out the tinted windows. “But I thought we were going to discuss what she will be doing in my stead.”

“Didn’t you already cover it in your meeting with the mayor?” he asked with some exasperation.

“Not all of it.”

“You will have plenty of time on the plane.”

The limo started to move and Chloe finally nodded and settled back in her seat.

They rode in silence for several miles, leaving the small town behind. Chloe’s beautiful green eyes never once strayed from the view out the window.

“You will miss your life here,” he realized aloud.

“Yes.”

Her easy agreement with no caveat that she was looking forward to returning to their life together bothered him. Her life here had been short and not where she was supposed to be.

He felt compelled to ask, “Do you regret agreeing to my proposal?”

“Business proposition, you mean,” she said very carefully, her tone tired and tinged with sadness he did not like to hear.

No more did he understand it. He was offering her a life only a minuscule number would ever witness, much less truly experience.

“You will never want for anything,” he promised her. “You will not regret returning to the Spiridakou family.”

“Won’t I?” Her troubled green gaze remained fixed on the view out the window.

A sense of impending doom had him crossing the limo, reaching to close the privacy window between the driver and them as he sat down beside her. “No, you will not. This is my vow to you.”

Finally, she looked up at him, emerald gaze measuring. “It isn’t something you can control, Ariston.”

“We shall see.” He would not argue with her. He would show her.

Then she would believe him and he would not even say, I told you so. In the interim, the time had come to remind her one of the reasons they worked as a couple.

Cupping her cheek, the feel of her soft skin under his hand hitting him deep in his gut, he lowered his head toward hers.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

He smiled, letting his lips brush hers. “If you have forgotten, then three weeks is definitely too long to be apart.”

Her eyes widened, but her mouth parted, inviting his kiss.

He lost no time accepting the sweet invitation, claiming her mouth with intent. This woman was his and the sooner she realized her life here in Oregon had only been a blip in their life together, the better. By her own admission, she had not wanted their marriage to end.

The time had come for her to remember why.

He took his time relearning her lips after their three weeks apart, tracing their lush bow shape with his tongue.

She made the soft whimpering sound he’d come to know intimately during their marriage, but this time it was laced with a desperation he would never have guessed at as she melted into him. No matter how she said she would miss her life here, she had missed him more.

He mapped her body through the oversized silk top she wore with leggings that disguised her weight loss to the eye. But his touch revealed how much closer to the surface her ribcage was.

He had already hired a personal trainer who would help Chloe gain necessary pounds while strengthening her muscles and preparing her body for the ordeal of pregnancy. No way was he going to allow her to risk herself carrying his child.

Her breasts were smaller than they had been, barely a handful and he did not care. Just touching her already pebble-hard nipples through the double layer of thin silk of her top and bra turned him on to the point of pain.

His sex strained against its confinement, the need to be inside her growing to near unbearable proportions.

He pulled her onto his lap, guiding her to straddle him so the apex of her thighs rubbed against his straining erection, despite their clothing. Pleasure erupted from him in a loud groan and he dove under her blouse to undo the catch on her bra.

It was a frontal closure and he smiled with satisfaction against her lips as he revealed her small but enticing curves to his questing fingers.

Sounds of pleasure and need fell from her lips to his as she rocked against him, clearly enjoying their position as much as he did.

He went to pull her top off and suddenly she went rigid above him, tearing her mouth from his. “You can’t do that.

Not here.”

He laughed, the sound edged by the pain of his arousal. “I assure you, I can. We can.”

“We’re in the back of a car,” she said, her face and tone twisted with horror.

“It is a limo and this would not be the first time we made love in the back of one.” Though it had only happened once before, when they were on the long drive to her father’s weekend home in upstate New York.

“That was different.”

“How? These windows are tinted, as are those on the Spiridakou fleet of limousines. I have closed the privacy panel. We have an hour-plus drive before we reach the airport.” He had not stopped touching her the entire time he was talking, squeezing and abrading her nipples until they grew hot against his fingertips.

She was so damn sexy, her innocent nature only making her more so.

“You’re not playing fair,” she accused.

“I am not playing at all.” Recapturing her lips, he showed her just how far from a game he found the sex between them.

He went carnal with the kiss, doing what he knew would push her to the brink of the insanity of pleasure … and beyond.

This time, when he went to remove her clothes, she helped him, squirming out of her leggings while frantically trying to unbutton his shirt.

He’d discarded his suit jacket upon entering the limo, but though he’d loosened his tie, he still wore it. She didn’t seem to care, her fingers scrabbling with buttons and then running over his chest as she panted against his lips.

He would have laughed, but didn’t have the breath as he tore off the shirt and tie, shoving his slacks and boxers down his thighs and kicking them off.

Only then did he remember that he’d forgotten something he needed in the pocket. She made a mewling protest as he lifted her off his lap and placed her on the seat beside him. “What?” she asked wildly, her lovely oval face flushed with desire, her pupils so dilated her green eyes almost looked black.

“Condom.”