Книга - My Big Fake Green-Card Wedding

My Big Fake Green-Card Wedding
Mollie Molay


I Do…For Now.She might be the last twenty-nine-year-old virgin in Greece, but Melina Kostos did not need her overprotective father and brothers handpicking her husband! So when American businessman and single dad Adam Blake proposed a convenient marriage on her terms, she accepted. By Zeus, their bargain gave her everything she wanted: a gold band, a little girl to love and a green card.So why wasn't it enough?Because Melina wanted to break her no-touching-in-private rule and make her husband her first. Because she didn't want to be just a child's friend, she wanted to have Adam's babies. Because she wanted the whole thing–big fat Greek wedding and all!









She knew he was just as uneasy about being in bed with her as she was


Maybe it was because he knew he’d fraudulently vowed to love, honor and cherish her. In her own heart, the vows had truly been made. Tonight she felt like a wife in bed with her new husband.

She turned on her side and regarded the pillows that separated them.

Common sense told her this was no time to give up the dubious honor of being the last twenty-nine-year-old virgin in Greece and, maybe, in the United States.

Her conscience reminded her that the marriage was only a charade for the benefit of the United States immigration authorities.

But desire told her that, after all, they were married. She wondered how it would feel to share the longing inside for someone of her own to love and to cherish. To honor the vows she’d made to Adam…


My Big Fake Green-Card Wedding

Mollie Molay






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


In memory of my late husband, Louis Matza,

and our own hilarious wedding, where our two cultures managed to maintain an uneasy peace.

And to our two wonderful daughters,

Elaine Fox and Joy Steinhardt.

Love you lots,

Mom




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


After working for a number of years as a logistics contract administrator in the aircraft industry, Mollie Molay turned to a career she found far more satisfying—writing romance novels. Mollie lives in Northridge, California, surrounded by her two daughters and eight grandchildren, many of whom find their way into her books. She enjoys hearing from her readers and welcomes comments. You can write to her at Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.




Books by Mollie Molay


HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

560—FROM DRIFTER TO DADDY

597—HER TWO HUSBANDS

616—MARRIAGE BY MISTAKE

638—LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

682—NANNY & THE BODYGUARD

703—OVERNIGHT WIFE

729—WANTED: DADDY

776—FATHER IN TRAINING

799—DADDY BY CHRISTMAS

815—MARRIED BY MIDNIGHT

839—THE GROOM CAME C.O.D.

879—BACHELOR-AUCTION BRIDEGROOM

897—THE BABY IN THE BACK SEAT

938—THE DUCHESS & HER BODYGUARD * (#litres_trial_promo)

947—SECRET SERVICE DAD * (#litres_trial_promo)

954—COMMANDER’S LITTLE SURPRISE * (#litres_trial_promo)

987—MY BIG FAKE GREEN-CARD WEDDING




KOURABIETHES


(Greek Butter Cookies)

1 cup unsalted butter

½ tsp baking powder

1 egg yolk

1 cup confectioner’s sugar, stirred

1 tbsp brandy

3 cups flour (approx.)

Walnuts or almonds (optional)

1 lb confectioner’s sugar to sift onto cookies as soon as they come out of the oven

Mix butter and sugar until very light and fluffy. Stir in egg yolk and brandy.

Mix flour and baking powder. Add to butter mixture with sifted confectioner’s sugar, a little at a time. Knead well until dough is smooth. If too soft, add a little flour. Add nuts, if desired.

Take small pieces of dough and shape into little balls or into crescents. Place on lightly greased baking sheets. Bake in moderate oven (350° F) for approximately 20 minutes.

Roll cookies in additional confectioner’s sugar while warm. Sift more confectioner’s sugar over cookies to keep well coated to keep moist.

Makes about 3½ dozen cookies.




Contents


Chapter One (#u08ac4ecc-a606-555d-b2d9-a5ad8a557799)

Chapter Two (#u7f5be28b-07ea-5210-b30a-156173da61e2)

Chapter Three (#ubc05e3cd-ff03-545b-9065-ede9b0d62970)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


U.S. Embassy

Athens, Greece

“You are almost thirty years old, daughter. It’s time you found yourself a husband! If you don’t, I will find one for you!”

With her father’s voice echoing in her ears, Melina Kostos hung up the phone. Today wasn’t her lucky day, she thought as she stared at the run in her smoky-gray nylons. The notice advising her that her position as the U.S. embassy’s bilingual receptionist was about to be downsized wasn’t helping. Without a job, she no longer had a reason to argue away her father’s concern over her single status.

How could she tell her father that she didn’t want a husband? At least, not yet. Or that she had no intention of being Athens’s last virgin over the age of 29 if she could help it? She not only had some living to do, but no part of that plan included letting a man control her life.

What she most wanted was a green card that would allow her to go to the United States to work. The past two years at the U.S. embassy had left her with a keen interest in the country. At least there, women seemed to be free.

If only she had someone to talk to besides the two close friends she roomed with. Eleni and Arianna, who worked at the embassy with her, were also Greek natives and, in one way at least, in the same position she was: single. She wasn’t sure even they would understand the way she felt.

It would be difficult to expect anyone not from a traditional Greek family like hers to understand her father’s call, she mused as she stared at the telephone. Sure, she was almost thirty and, for all intents and purposes, on her own. Unfortunately, her age was not about to stop her father from demanding she marry and raise a family. As the only daughter in an old-fashioned Greek family, her father’s voice was still the law.

She was unhappily envisioning the kind of suitor her father had in mind when a burst of laughter caught her attention.

“We’re going up to the roof garden for lunch, Melina. Want to come with us? Melina, are you listening to me?”

Startled out of her reverie, Melina managed to smile brightly. Arianna and Eleni waited in front of her desk for her reply. “Yes, of course,” Melina answered. “I was lost in thought.”

“About what?”

She gestured to the termination notice. “I just received notice my position is being joined with Anna’s. Actually,” she added wistfully, “I was thinking how wonderful it would be if I could get a green card and go to the United States. I would like to work there for a few years before I settle down.” She went on to tell them about her father’s threatening phone call.

Arianna clucked her dismay. “There must be someone here at the embassy who could help you!”

Melina shook her head. “I don’t know anyone here well enough to ask. I’m not even sure if it would be legal, anyway.”

Arianna rubbed her stomach. “Well, come on. We can talk about it over lunch. I’m hungry.”

“Go on ahead.” Melina smiled at her pleasantly plump friend who loved the rich Greek food the embassy served. “I’ll lock my desk and meet you at the elevator.”

Melina set the telephone button that would route incoming calls to Anna and fumbled in her bag for her vanity case to freshen up.

Would the woman who stared back at her in the small mirror ever be free of the controlling influence of a man? Her younger two brothers had somehow managed to find their own way without her father’s unwelcome influence. Why couldn’t she?

Because you are a woman in an established society, a small pragmatic voice answered. In a traditional country like Greece, unmarried women were still expected to be guided by their fathers. Especially in her home village of Nafplion.

Not me! Melina vowed as she made for the elevator. Somewhere, somehow, she would find a way to keep her independence and to live out her heart’s desire. At least for a few years.

“Ah, Melina, there you are! I was just coming back to get you.” Eleni pushed her way through the open door. “Hurry, the elevator will leave without you.”

“There’s always another elevator.” Melina laughed as she squeezed in alongside her friend. “What’s so special about this one?”

“Trust me.” Eleni wiggled her way to the back of the elevator and pulled Melina with her. “This one is our elevator.”

“I’m starving.” Arianna wiggled and grumbled beside her. “It’s so crowded in here, I can hardly breathe.”

Pushed back against a solid, masculine body, Melina quickly realized she was almost skin to skin with the man who stood behind her. “Excuse me,” she murmured, and tried to give him space. It didn’t work. What was working, to her dismay, was the effect of the man’s pungent shaving lotion. The scent, combined with the pressure of his firm chest against her back, brought her hormones to attention. The sound of his deep, raspy voice in her ear didn’t help her to think too rationally, either.

Wondering if the intimate contact was having the same effect on him, she belatedly realized that he was speaking with an American accent. Ignoring her faint apology, he continued his conversation with the other man who also shared their space.

“My ex called this morning to inform me she intends to remarry next week.”

“Congratulations!” a Greek-accented voice answered. “Just think of all the money in alimony you’ll save.”

“That’s not the point, Peter,” the American went on. “Jeanette made it clear she expects me to come home to take care of little Jamie while she’s on her honeymoon.”

“That is understandable, my friend. After all, Jamie is your daughter.”

“Of course. I’m nuts about Jamie,” the American agreed. “It’s not just the short notice, I don’t know how to take care of a little girl on a daily basis.”

Melina felt like an eavesdropper as the very masculine and warm chest behind her heaved a deep sigh. “The problem is, I have to travel on business a great deal,” the American went on. “I’m going to have to look for both a housekeeper and a nanny when I get back to the States.”

“Why spend money for two women when one would do?”

“One?” There was a pause. “I’m not sure one woman could handle both jobs. You have a family, Pete. Which do you think is a better idea, a housekeeper or a nanny?”

“Neither,” Pete answered with a wry laugh. “We Greeks are more practical than you Americans. Forget a nanny or a housekeeper. What you need is a wife.”

Melina’s antenna quivered as the elevator stopped one more time to let a passenger out before continuing on up to the roof. Myriad thoughts raced through Melina’s mind.

A housekeeper? The position had to be, as her American colleagues frequently said, a piece of cake. As a dutiful Greek daughter, she was well versed in taking care of a home…. She’d learned to cook for five people…How difficult could feeding two people be?

A nanny? As the only girl in her family, she’d often helped her mother with the care of her two younger brothers. For the past two years she’d also taught Greek language to young embassy children and, in the process, had wiped more than a few runny noses. How different could the job of a nanny to one child be?

Here was her chance to get her heart’s desire and still be able to put off her father’s demand that she marry, she thought. It was worth a try.

The elevator, empty except for Melina, her two friends and the two men behind her, finally reached the roof garden. Tables, shaded against the afternoon sun by dark green umbrellas, were surrounded by pots of colorful flowers and vine-covered trellises. The scent of warm food at the buffet table filled the air.

Eleni poked her in the ribs. “We’re here,” she whispered. “Go ahead. Now is your chance.”

Her chance? Had Eleni overheard the men’s conversation and put one and one together? Had Eleni read her mind?

Melina was so engrossed in preparing a logical approach to the American that one of the two men exiting the elevator bumped into her.

“Ah, Melina Kostos! I thought that was you!”

Melina pulled her wayward thoughts together. “Uh, hello, Peter. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking. How are you?”

“Excellent,” he said with a broad smile. “Even better now that I’ve met you again. Come, let me introduce you to my American friend, Adam Blake.”

Peter Stakis was a friendly sort and a member of the Greek embassy’s trade office. Peter often visited the American embassy on business. He was also a good friend of her family’s. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Blake.”

“Likewise,” the American businessman said, an admiring look in his eyes.

To Melina’s relief he looked approachable. She decided to come right out with it. To talk to him frankly and to solicit his cooperation. It was just a matter of finding the right way to say what she wanted to say without appearing the complete fool.

She was about to introduce her friends when Eleni grabbed Arianna’s arm and made for an empty table. “We’ll see you later!”

Peter raised an eyebrow at their abrupt departure, shrugged, and gestured to the buffet table offering up hot food, salads, sandwiches and drinks. “Since it appears you are now alone, will you join us for lunch, Melina?”

“Thank you, I would like to.” Melina couldn’t figure out how Eleni had known which elevator to take for Melina to meet her destiny, but she was grateful. Even more so when Eleni had had the foresight to take Arianna and leave. Now, to find a way to get rid of Peter before she made her pitch. The fewer people who overheard her, the better. Especially someone who knew her family.

The scents of pita-wrapped sandwiches and the traditional Greek salad of cucumbers, walnuts and tomatoes pulled her to the buffet table. Maybe, she prayed silently, her stomach would stop fluttering if it were full.

“Salad, please,” she told the server. “With just a bit of oil and vinegar dressing.”

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” the American asked as he hovered over a tray of moussaka.

Melina glanced at the inviting displays of cold cucumber pita sandwiches and the container of hot moussaka. Never mind the chocolate chip cookies and the baklava that begged for her attention. It all looked delicious. But the truth was, she was too nervous to eat. It wasn’t every day a woman came face-to-face with her destiny.

“I usually don’t eat much at noon,” she answered, gesturing for a glass of iced tea.

Peter’s American friend didn’t seem to have a problem with food, she thought enviously as she watched him ask for a double helping of moussaka. Like all Greek girls, she’d been raised to know how to cook for a family. If she wound up as Adam Blake’s housekeeper, she vowed, he would never lack the Greek food he seemed to favor.

“How are your parents, your brothers, Melina?” Peter asked as they were seated.

“Fine, thank you,” she said, sipping her iced tea to take her mind off Adam Blake’s clear hazel eyes, the deep cleft in his square jaw and his innate sensuality. How in heaven’s name could she be attracted to a man she’d just noticed but had never been introduced to before? “Busy with the family pistachio business.”

“Good, good. You have a fine family, Melina. I shall have to visit them soon and pay my respects to your father.” Melina blinked and hoped the visit wouldn’t take place too soon.

She gathered enough information during lunch to learn that Adam Blake was a U.S. importer of such Greek products as extra-virgin olive oil and fine wines. Which meant, unfortunately, that he traveled a great deal. It was no wonder that he was dismayed at having to take over the care of his little daughter.

Just as well, Melina thought, that he wasn’t going to be around every day or she’d be a basket case. She caught him eyeing the way she nervously played with the top button on her blouse. Though she tried to return his gaze casually, she couldn’t seem to keep her fingers still under his stare. To add to her problem, his blatant masculinity sent her mind down paths a woman who wanted to apply for the job as his housekeeper had no right to tread. She had to approach the man with a business proposition—no more, no less.

It wasn’t until the men were into their dessert that Melina had gathered enough courage to speak her mind. The honeyed scent of the slice of baklava pastry wafted across the table.

She took a deep breath. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Blake, but I overheard you in the elevator telling Peter you are looking for someone to help you take care of your young daughter.”

“Why yes, I guess I am.” Adam looked at her with growing interest. “Why, do you know someone who might be interested?”

Melina wiped her dry lips with her paper napkin. “Yes, I do. Me.”

Adam Blake looked as if she’d hit him right between the eyes with a brick. Compared to the train that suddenly seemed to roar through her already queasy stomach, it was a mild reaction. “You?”

“Yes, me,” she repeated firmly, and took another deep swallow of iced tea.

“Why?” Adam frowned and glanced around the patio. “I thought you worked here at the embassy.”

“I do, for now. Actually, my position is being eliminated—for financial reasons.”

“You want a position as a housekeeper?” Adam Blake repeated cautiously. “That would be quite a change for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Melina answered quietly, trying to still the inner voice that was cautioning her to go slowly. “I have my reasons.”

Adam Blake regarded her for a long moment. From the way she kept playing with the button on her blouse, she knew it was obvious that she was nervous. He finally asked, “And those reasons are?”

Melina glanced at Peter Stakis before she answered. Something in her eyes must have told him she wanted privacy. He rose and pushed back his chair. “Nice to see you again, Melina. Please say hello to your father for me. Adam, I’ll see you downstairs in the trade office when you’re through with lunch.”

WITH PETER GONE, Adam sat back in his chair and stared, fascinated by the play of her finely shaped fingers against her slender throat. Uneasily, he prepared to listen to Melina. He didn’t know her, or anything about her other than what he’d gleaned during lunch. She was beautiful in the classic Greek way—dark hair, almond-shaped, lavender-colored eyes, slender and tall. She was obviously intelligent or she wouldn’t have been employed as the embassy’s receptionist.

Peter had sent his regards to her parents and her brothers, he mused, so he knew she came from a well-regarded family. But as a housekeeper? Did he dare take a chance?

“Go ahead,” he said, not convinced, but willing to listen. “I’m all ears.”

She glanced at his ears and looked bewildered. Until he laughed and explained. “It’s an old American expression,” he said. “I meant, you have my full attention. Why would you want to help take care of my daughter instead of remaining here in Greece?”

“I will take care of your little girl,” she said slowly before visibly taking another deep breath and plunging on, “in exchange for a green card that will enable me to stay and work in your country later.”

Adam blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him he could be her ticket to the United States. To add to his dilemma, green cards were becoming increasingly difficult to obtain. Melina’s offer, though not exactly conventional, was worthy of consideration if she was as authentic as she seemed. After all, he needed her. Or, at least, someone like her.

On the other hand, he only had her word that she was being let go for economic reasons. Maybe all she had was ambition and a taste for wanderlust. How long would she remain with him as his housekeeper or as his daughter’s nanny once she got her hands on that green card? Was she worth the risk?

The more he thought about Melina’s proposition the more leery he became of the idea of bringing a desirable but virtual stranger into his home.

Adam gazed into her earnest lavender eyes and finally made her an offer no woman in her right mind would accept.

“I don’t need a housekeeper or a nanny,” he said as he remembered Peter’s frank comment. He intended to politely lay his cards on the table for an alternate proposition. A proposition she was bound to turn down and that would afford him a graceful exit. “What I really need is a wife.”

Her eyes narrowed, a blush covered her finely etched cheeks. She froze.

“A wife?” The words were hardly a whisper.

“Yes, a wife,” he answered. He sat back, waiting for her to tell him he was out of his mind and to leave. The fine hairs on the back of his neck started to tingle at the speculative look that slowly came into her eyes. Maybe he hadn’t made himself clear enough. “You know, the kind who says ‘I do’ in front of a preacher,” he said, mentally crossing his fingers.

“And a green card?”

“You got it. It’s all or nothing.”

Melina hesitated while she silently tallied the factors in Adam Blake’s favor.

He wasn’t exactly a stranger to her. A respected businessman, she’d seen him come and go through the embassy for the past two years.

His aura whenever she’d caught a glimpse of him, until today, had been clearly businesslike and above reproach.

He also appeared to be a close friend of Peter’s. That alone was enough to persuade her.

Her inner voice cautioned her to go slowly. Why was he offering to marry a woman he didn’t know instead of hiring her on as a housekeeper or nanny?

“How much of a wife did you have in mind?” she asked cautiously.

Adam blinked. He hadn’t thought that far, nor had he thought that she would accept his ridiculous proposition. All he had thought about was a way to get rid of her by suggesting the impossible. Now what would he do if she were truly serious about taking him up on his off-the-wall alternative?

And why had he listened to Peter, anyway?

He shot Melina a suggestive smile deliberately calculated to change her mind and to get them both off the hook. “Let’s just say it wouldn’t only be a marriage of convenience.”

Melina regarded him warily and rapidly considered her options. Reared to marry young, to have children and to raise a family, she was within a heartbeat of achieving her heart’s desire of going to the United States. Most women would jump at the chance to marry a man like Adam Blake instead of entering an arranged marriage. At least Adam was handsome, successful and an attentive father.

Would she come to love him? That was another story. She didn’t know him well enough to judge. Still, he had to be better than what awaited her at home. And wasn’t a marriage of convenience what her father had actually had in mind when he’d told her he would find a husband for her if she didn’t find one for herself?

Was there any difference between a stranger her father might choose for her and a man she chose for herself? she mused as she regarded Adam. Marriage and children had been her ultimate goal, hadn’t it?

Her body tingled at the thought. She had a few reservations, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn back. She held out her hand. “As they say in your country, Adam Blake, it’s a deal.”

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. Desperate times called for desperate measures, he thought wildly, or he was going to wind up a married man again. He had to give Melina a few things to think about before the situation got out of hand. For sure, he couldn’t afford to encourage her by taking her outstretched hand. Or to tease himself. Not when he knew he had to come clean or never be able to live with himself.

“Miss Kostos,” he said after he took a deep breath. “I have to be honest with you. I’m afraid I was out of line when I said I needed a wife. My offer was impulsive, and, now that it’s out in the open, incredibly stupid. The truth is, I don’t really want a wife. I’ve been married before and I wasn’t a good husband, or so I was told. However, I do need a housekeeper or a nanny. And I do need to get one as soon as possible.”

Melina regarded him thoughtfully. Still, if he was that honest with her, she had to be honest with him. “That’s too bad, because I think I need a husband.”

“You think?” A cautious look came into his eyes.

“Well, yes,” she said with a wry smile, “but it’s not what you think. I meant it when I said I wanted to go to America and to get a green card to work there. The only way I know how to get the card is to find a sponsor and to apply through the proper channels. That might take forever.” She sighed. “Or—” she looked at him in a way that made his heart race “—I could marry an American citizen and then apply for a card. I think that would be easier. Of course,” she added, afraid he might think she was mercenary. “I promise I will…what you Americans say, pay my way by taking care of your home and your daughter.”

Adam’s mind boggled at the thought she still wanted to be his wife even after he’d confessed he wasn’t good husband material. “Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that,” she agreed. “As for my qualifications, you should know I am the oldest child in my family, with two younger brothers. If you knew my brothers, God bless them both, you would know I am well qualified to care for a little girl. As for taking care of you—” she blushed at the possible interpretation of her words and pushed forward “—I have been well trained in keeping a home.”

Adam felt bewildered…until he realized the scheme she was suggesting might work. If he didn’t want a real wife, she obviously didn’t want a real husband. She wanted a green card and a chance to see his country. A marriage certificate would, in the long run, get them both what they wanted.

“Okay. It’s a deal. Of course,” he went on, “you should realize we have to make things look legitimate or the immigration authorities at home will never buy our sudden marriage.”

Melina’s gaze turned wary. “What do you have in mind to make the marriage look real?”

“We’ll have to look as if we fell in love at first sight and couldn’t wait to get married,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice and a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll even get in touch with Peter and ask him to back us up. From what I know about him, he’s a real romantic. By the time I get through, he’s bound to believe I fell for you like a ton of bricks. Of course, the real reason for the marriage will have to remain between us. How does that sound?”

It was the twinkle in his eyes and the beguiling crooked smile on his lips that gave Melina pause. If Adam had been attractive and sexy when he was serious, he was even more so when he poked fun at himself. Too bad they hadn’t had time to really get to know each other, she thought wistfully. Adam Blake was the type of man she would have liked to have for a real husband.

“What did you have in mind to show we have a real marriage?” she finally asked.

“Easy. We’ll get married and go on a honeymoon. How does a weekend in Corfu sound to you?”




Chapter Two


Melina blushed. She’d agreed to go through the motions of getting married, but a honeymoon? He was talking about pretending to share the ultimate intimate interlude when they hardly knew each other! Of course, it was true that she could hardly control her attraction to him. Was it his broad shoulders, the laughter in his eyes or the strong reach of his hands set alongside hers on the table? Whatever the attraction, it was working. “A honeymoon? You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said with a quirked eyebrow. “That’s what people do when they get married.”

Melina wasn’t sure she was comfortable with the way he was looking at her. The expression in his eyes made her feel as if he were actually imagining her in their marriage bed on their wedding night. The picture was so vivid, she instinctively warmed at the thought of his arms around her, the taste of his full, masculine lips on hers. Of heated skin gliding over heated skin and her hands running through his thick sandy-brown hair.

What might happen next if she wasn’t careful, was what bothered her. As a virgin, she could only imagine such a scenario.

Another woman might have been overwhelmed by the anticipatory gleam in Adam’s eyes, but Melina was too intelligent to believe what she saw there was real. Nevertheless, she had to admit that he was wonderfully sexy.

At the moment she felt as if he was savoring her as a cat savored cream—or was it a canary? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep all those odd American expressions straight. But considering this was only a game they had agreed to play, he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Since this is going to be a marriage of convenience,” she said firmly, “we have to make a few rules.”

“Rules?” Adam looked taken aback at her request, but she didn’t care. He’d laid out his thoughts about their so-called marriage. It was her turn.

“Yes, rules. Agreed?”

Adam smiled. “Sure, but remember, this has to look like a real marriage.”

The more Adam appeared to be amused, the more Melina became determined to set limits. This wasn’t going to be a love-’em-and-leave-’em relationship she’d seen in too many American movies. She intended that they would appear loving without becoming lovers.

“Actually, I have only two requests,” she said. “The first one is ‘no touching in private.”’

Adam’s eyebrows rose. She could just imagine what he was thinking. “If this is a game, you have to remember all games have some rules.”

“Okay, but remember, we’re supposed to be in love.”

“In public perhaps,” she agreed reluctantly. “In private, no.” The no-touching rule was important to her. Not because of what Adam might do, but because she couldn’t trust herself not to go up in flames if he did touch her.

“That’s all?” he asked with an amused grin that made her toes tingle.

“No.” She ignored his crooked smile. He might think their proposed arrangement was amusing, but she was serious. “If we’re going to make this look real, you have to meet my father and mother.”

The smile on Adam’s face disappeared. “I suppose I could do that. Anything more? Better get it all off your chest now, I wouldn’t want any surprises.”

Chest! Melina blushed at the unintentional reference to her breasts. If he kept this up, she would have to make up a few more rules to help her keep her distance.

“I can’t think of another rule right now,” she said, “but I’m sure I’ll have a few more as we go along.”

Adam shrugged. “All right. Just give me some advance notice when you do. So, are you sure about my having to meet your father?”

“Yes. I don’t know how they do it in your country, but in Greece a woman’s intended husband asks her father for permission to marry her.”

Melina’s stomach roiled as she pictured the look on her father’s face when she brought home an American. How would he react when she announced she was about to marry him?

Her father had made it clear from the time she’d entered her teens that the only man worthy of becoming his son-in-law was a Greek man, preferably from their village. The man would have to be old and wise enough to care for her. Just as her father had taken care of her mother, she could hear her father say. Privately, Melina knew just who had taken care of whom.

Since Melina had watched her mother raise three children, run a household, help with the family pistachio business and satisfy her husband, she knew better.

“You need your father’s approval before you marry?” Adam asked, sounding surprised. “You are over twenty-one aren’t you?”

Clearly the man didn’t understand Greek culture. Stung, Melina defended herself and her family’s dearly held tradition—even if she found it confining. “I am old enough. In the first place, twenty-first century or not, most Greek women are brought up to believe that their father as well as their priest speaks for God. In the second place, you did say we have to make our bargain look good. That includes meeting my father.”

Adam had the grace to blush.

“You also need to know my parents live in Nafplion, a small village outside of Athens. They are, what we call in Greek, horiatees, people who come from small villages. I suppose you could say they’re not very modern in their thinking.”

Melina’s gaze locked with Adam’s as she spoke. She knew without being told that something more than her traditional upbringing was bothering him. Maybe it wasn’t every day a man proposed marriage, but he’d been married before and thus had to have proposed to a woman at least once.

“I don’t need my father’s consent,” she went on, “but he has waited a long time to see me married. I owe him my respect. I can’t possibly marry you without at least introducing you. I also have to ask my mother to plan the wedding. It’s a family tradition.”

To her surprise, Adam suddenly choked on his last bite of baklava. She rounded the table in seconds and pounded him on his back. What could she have said that could have caused such a reaction? “Are you all right?”

“Er, I think so.” Adam reached for her iced tea, the only liquid on the table, took a deep swallow and cleared his throat. “We don’t have time to plan a wedding. I have to be back in the States early next week to pick up my daughter, Jamie.”

Disappointed, Melina gave up her childhood dream of a church wedding, of wearing her mother’s wedding gown and of her father walking her down the aisle. She consoled herself that at the moment her more pressing need was to get that green card. “I’ll talk it over with my mother…maybe she can talk to the priest and arrange for a small church wedding.”

“No time,” he said firmly. “We barely have time for a weekend honeymoon. I have to be home next Wednesday for Jamie.”

Melina sighed wistfully. “Your home is the United States. My home is here. That is, for now. It’s not easy to give up all of the traditions I grew up with. They are all I know.”

Melina watched mixed emotions pass over Adam’s face. Most women would have thought his plan to marry her just after meeting her was romantic, her friend Eleni With the Sixth Sense included. Unfortunately, Melina knew better. Their marriage agreement was a practical arrangement, with the added twist of a mutual physical attraction that wasn’t going to be satisfied. The problem would be to keep her distance from Adam and still act as if she was wildly in love with him in public.

She gazed thoughtfully as Adam recovered from his coughing fit. She recalled her mother’s sage advice that marriage was a matter of compromises. There was a time and a place to get what she wanted, or to even win an argument with her husband, her mother would counsel with a wink. That place to compromise was in the bedroom whern two heads shared the same pillow, her mother always said while a dreamy smile graced her lips.

Too bad she wouldn’t have a chance to take advantage of her mother’s advice, Melina thought with a quick glance at the interesting cleft in Adam’s square chin. A cleft in a man’s chin was a sign of strength, her grandmother had told her. Maybe this would be one of those times to compromise, she thought as she gazed at the small piece of honeyed walnut pastry lingering at the corner of his mouth.

One thought led to another until it occurred to her that although Adam had proposed marriage, he had yet to hold her in his arms and kiss her. Her body warmed at the thought of how sweet his lips would have tasted. Of how wonderful it would feel to be held in his arms. Even if it would only be a charade.

This was too public a setting for a kiss to seal their bargain, she realized as she glanced around the roof garden. They were in full view of people on their lunch breaks. The windows of the adjoining Athens Hilton Hotel were only yards away. Close enough for anyone near a window to look out over the vine-covered trellis surrounding the embassy rooftop café. Even the trio of seagulls drawn by the fragrant scent of food seemed to be watching them.

Eleni and Arianna, who were sitting a few feet away, made no attempt to hide their interest in what was going on at her table.

Melina pondered how to play the game without appearing too daring. “My friends are watching,” she said uneasily. “Maybe we ought to do something to make things look real?”

“No problem.” Adam glanced over at her wide-eyed friends and winked. He took Melina’s hand in his and ran his thumb over her velvety skin. Under his breath, and with a wide smile for her friends’ benefit, he said, “Melina, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Melina managed a smile. If a kiss wasn’t forthcoming, at least he was holding her hand. She wondered if he knew that tiny electric shocks followed in the path of his large and finely shaped fingers. Or that flashes of erotic thoughts were beginning to turn her limbs to jelly.

“It was your idea to make things look real,” she finally choked. “I was only trying to help.”

How far? her inner voice asked eagerly.

Not far enough, her rational mind answered.

“I will take you home to meet my father,” she said. She disengaged her tingling hand and hid it in her lap. “I just hope my father doesn’t have that heart attack he keeps threatening whenever he doesn’t get his way.”

“Your father has a heart condition?”

“No, but I’m afraid he will once I bring you home. It’s not only you,” she hurried to explain. “It’s just that you’re my choice, not his. Besides, you’re not Greek.”

Adam still looked doubtful. “Are you sure I have to meet your father? I wouldn’t want to be the cause of a heart attack. Maybe we should call the whole thing off.”

Maybe, she debated for a brief moment, she should reconsider and let him off the hook. Only there was that green card she yearned for and the chance to be beyond her father’s controlling reach.

“As far as I’m concerned, we made an agreement,” Melina said firmly. “We have too much at stake to back out now.”

“We have?” Adam’s complexion paled.

Melina gathered her purse and prepared to go back to work. “Yes, we have. You said you needed a wife. I want a green card. I said I’ll marry you, and I will.”

“But your father!”

“Don’t worry about my father,” she said with a frown, “I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something to make it right with him.”

Her father was as healthy as only a man who regularly used virgin olive oil on his food to stay healthy could be. She’d grown up watching her father enjoy his weekly Sunday morning “medicinal” breakfast of cucumbers, nuts mixed with yogurt, doused with a liberal portion of Greece’s famous virgin olive oil. A man who could survive that kind of regime was surely healthy enough to survive meeting Adam.

Melina rose and waved goodbye to Eleni and Arianna. If she wanted things to look real, she had to wait for Adam to leave with her. “If you want to make things look real, maybe you ought to walk me back to my desk.”

Adam heard the plea in Melina’s voice as he rose from the table. Damn! The woman had taken him seriously when he’d only been kidding. He had a sinking feeling this was his last chance to climb out of the hole he’d dug for himself. But how?

The light in Melina’s eyes deterred him from telling her so in public. Especially since Melina was a woman who was frank in her hopes and dreams and who trusted him.

The idea of meeting her father, a traditional Greek man, left a hollow, sinking feeling in his chest. He had to make one last attempt to get her to back out of their agreement.

“Maybe we should elope,” he said suddenly. “Tomorrow is Friday. We can get married Saturday night, elope and go on a three-day honeymoon. By the time you tell your father we’re married, it’ll be too late for him to hassle you.”

No sooner had Adam suggested the elopement than he wanted to bite his tongue. Until now he’d prided himself on being honest and pragmatic and definitely a man in control of his life. He was thirty-four, and a successful businessman. And smart enough, he told himself as he glanced down at his “intended,” to handle a marriage of convenience, if it came to that, without any complications.

What was there about this beautiful, young Greek woman that had caused him to lose his usual self-discipline and to test his sanity? he mused as he followed her into the elevator.

Her smile? The charming way she looked at him under dark eyelashes? The gentle sway of her hips?

What was there in her walk that frankly interested him, when he had no right to be interested?

Her quaint Greek persona? He’d always had an interest in everything Greek, he mused as he tried to reason with himself, or he wouldn’t be in the business of importing commodities from Greece.

But a wife he couldn’t touch and who looked like Melina? The more he gazed at her, the more he had to smother a desire to take her in his arms and to kiss her senseless.

“Elope? Greek women do not elope!” Melina said, startled at Adam’s proposal. She’d been searching for a way to take her mother’s advice about compromise, considering Adam’s need for a quick marriage. But an elopement?

“Why not? You wanted to get married a moment ago?”

“A marriage, yes. An elopement, no,” she agreed, reluctant to let go of the idea of a traditional Greek wedding. Not in church, perhaps, but a wedding with Greek food and hauntingly lovely Greek music. “We have to consider tradition,” she sighed, debating the trade-off between settling for a quick wedding ceremony for the chance to realize her dreams. Evidently now was the time to make that compromise. “Okay, I’ll agree to the quick wedding, but first, I have to take you home to meet my parents. Would tonight be convenient for you?”

Adam smothered a sigh and reluctantly agreed. There was no use insisting they elope to get Melina to back out of their agreement. She wasn’t buying.

On the other hand, what if her father changed Melina’s mind for her? What had seemed like a good idea to get her to call off the marriage proposal suddenly turned into an odd sense of loss. To his surprise, he was actually looking forward to having this fascinating woman in his life. One way or another. Even if it meant going by her rules.

“PAPA, MAMMA,” Melina said later that night at the door to her family home. “I would like you to meet Adam Blake. Adam is the man I told you about over the telephone. Adam is the man I plan to marry.”

Mikis Kostos eyed him in a way that made Adam uneasy. The uncompromising message in the man’s eyes was clear: no man is going to date, let alone marry, my daughter without my approval. From the frown on the man’s face, it was also clear to Adam that the chances of his gaining this man’s acceptance were slim to none.

“I’m pleased to meet you, sir,” Adam said. He didn’t go so far as to try to extend his hand, not when Kostos’s fists were clenched at his side.

Melina’s mother edged closer to her husband. “Mikis?”

It was only after the quiet prompting by Melina’s mother that her father held open the door. “Come in, come in,” he said. “We don’t need to have neighbors watching me be embarrassed by my own daughter.”

Adam glanced around at the neighboring houses before he followed Melina into the house. If anyone was watching what was going on on the Kostos’s porch, they were either hiding behind bushes or the man was paranoid.

Maybe this visit hadn’t been a good idea, after all.

Inside the house, there wasn’t a single flat surface not covered with lace doilies and knickknacks of all sizes and shapes. The lamps were topped by upholstered shades with dangling beaded trim. Religious pictures hung on the walls. To Adam, it looked as if time had stood still here while the rest of the world had moved on. No wonder Melina wanted a taste of the twenty-first century before she settled down.

“So, young man, you wish to marry my daughter?”

Adam was taken aback at the speed with which Mikis Kostos cut to the chase. Prompted by Melina’s elbow in his ribs, he nodded. “Yes, sir. I do.”

“Are you Greek?”

“No, I’m afraid I’m not. I’m an American.”

“Your father perhaps is Greek?”

“No, sir. Dad’s family came to the United States from England before he was born.”

“Your mother is Greek?”

Adam felt as if the walls were beginning to close in on him. It sounded as if Melina’s father was about to insist she marry a Greek man loud and long enough for Melina to change her mind about marrying him. “No sir, my mother’s family is Irish. In fact, my parents have recently retired to Ireland.”

Kostos frowned and looked as if he couldn’t find a redeeming branch on Adam’s family tree. In the man’s mind, Adam was clearly a mongrel. “So tell me, why do you want to marry my Greek daughter?”

Adam glanced at Melina. Now that he’d seen her father, he sympathized with her need for independence. For her sake, he had to find his way through this minefield of a marriage charade without getting married and without hurting Melina.

Melina held up a hand before Adam could answer. “It doesn’t matter if Adam isn’t Greek, Papa. We’ve made our decision. Adam has asked me to marry him and I have said yes.”

Kostos glowered. “And how does he intend to take care of you?”

It was time for Adam to make a decision, but his pride came first. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card. “I have my own import/export business, Mr. Kostos. I import Greek wine, olive oil and other Greek products to the United States. Successfully, I might add.”

“Why from Greece? You can get olive oil and wine in Italy, too. Of course—” Kostos huffed his pride “—no one produces virgin olive oil like ours. And my pistachio nuts are the best in the world, too.”

“You’re right, sir,” Adam agreed. Not only because he imported the pistachio nuts, but because he would have agreed to almost anything to end the interview. Before Melina got hurt, he told himself. And, now that he listened to her father, maybe even for his own sake.

“Ah!” Kostos finally nodded approvingly. “It is a good thing you know this. Our women are the most beautiful in the world, too,” he said proudly. “No wonder you want to marry my daughter.”

With Melina’s father’s approval of Adam’s ability to take care of a wife, Adam realized he was getting too close to becoming a married man again. He glanced over at Melina’s mother, Anna. She, to his surprise, was smiling.

“We will talk about a wedding after we have a chance to know you better,” Kostos said expansively. “There is plenty of time. My wife and I were neighbors and knew each other for five years before her father consented to our marriage. Now, tell me. When did you and my daughter meet?” he added as he peered at Adam.

Adam was almost speechless. How could he tell Kostos he’d only met the man’s daughter today? He looked at Melina for help.

“Peter Stakis introduced us when he visited the embassy,” Melina answered, with a fond look at Adam. He knew the look was part of the pretense but it sent his senses spinning anyway. Warning bells rang. “Oh, and by the way, Peter sends you his regards, Papa,” she added. “He said to tell you he will visit you soon.”

Melina’s father appeared to be mollified by the mention of Peter. “Come back for dinner tomorrow, and bring your young man, daughter. We will speak more of this.” He glanced at Melina and heaved a deep sigh. “Since Melina is getting older, maybe I will wait only a month or two to give you my answer…”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Adam said, afraid it was his last chance to back out of a misguided joke. One failed marriage was enough for him. “We won’t be able to come back next Friday. I have to return to the United States next Wednesday.”

“To the United States!” The frown reappeared on Kostos’s forehead. “Where in the United States?”

“My home and my business are in San Francisco. It’s a large city in northern California,” Adam said as he took a step backward at the change that came over the man’s face.

“The wedding is off!” Melina’s father thundered, waving his hands in the air. Before his fists could fly, her mother rushed to grab her husband by the arm.

“Mikis, no!”

“I do not give you my Greek daughter for you to take away halfway across the world,” Kostos said. He glared at Melina. “Of all my children, why is it is you who continues to defy me!”

Because I am the one most like you, she wanted to reply. “I’m not defying you, Papa,” she retorted. “You said you wanted me to marry and I am. Only to a man of my choice!”

“You go too far,” Kostos shouted. “How would I be able to see my grandchildren if you do not live in Greece? Unless,” he peered at her, “you are already expecting a baby and do not want me to know.”

A baby? Grandchildren! Adam paled.

Melina hurriedly placed herself between her father and him. “You are wrong, Papa. It is only that I gave Adam my word I would marry him, and I will. You are welcome to visit us in the United States.”

The expression on her father’s face was clear as he glared at Adam. In the man’s opinion, the world had gone to hell, with Adam leading the parade.

There was nothing left to do but make a graceful exit, Adam thought when he felt Melina’s warmth against his chest. What really burned him was that Kostos believed he had compromised his daughter.

From the shocked look on Melina’s face, Adam sensed there would be no peace for her in her father’s house from now on if he walked away from her.

There was no turning back. Charade or not, he owed Melina for putting her in this position. He took her hand in his. “I’m sorry if you think our cultural differences are that great, Mr. Kostos. And for any wrong ideas you may have about your daughter’s honor. In any case, I want to assure you I will take good care of Melina.”

As Adam defended Melina from a position he’d stupidly put her in, he realized he’d forgotten he’d hoped to get out of his proposal. Instead he’d not only defended Melina’s honor, it looked as if he’d managed to acquire a wife.




Chapter Three


On Saturday, Adam breathed a sigh of relief. He’d spent two days obtaining a temporary visa for Melina and a special wedding license. What had started out to be a joke had ended in a real marriage. The brief, impersonal ceremony performed by the American embassy’s resident chaplain had thankfully ended almost before it began.

The only thing he seemed to recall clearly was the two floral wreaths Melina had produced for them to wear on their heads. According to his new wife, the wreaths, joined together with white ribbons, were part of the Greek Orthodox wedding ceremony meant to symbolize their new life as a married couple.

Adam hadn’t had the heart to remind Melina that this was a marriage in name only—a marriage that could be dissolved as soon as she obtained her green card. Considering the hurried ceremony, he supposed that wearing the wreath was the least he could have done for her.

“Thank you for helping out on such short notice,” Adam said gratefully to his best man, Peter Stakis. Eleni Leontis and Arianna Miscouri, the happy bridesmaids, let out squeals of happiness and rushed forward to hug the blushing bride.

“My pleasure, my friend,” Peter answered, obviously puzzled at the unexpected result of Adam’s meeting with Melina only three days ago, but too much of a gentleman to comment. “But you’ve forgotten something. You have yet to kiss the bride!”

Adam, who had been wondering just how long he would be able to keep his hands off his new wife, glanced at Melina. A kiss to seal their bargain? Why not? According to their agreement, kissing in public was legit. Besides, the undercurrent of sensual attraction between himself and Melina was definitely real even if their marriage was not.

“You’re right. Pardon me, ladies.” Adam pulled his unresisting new bride to his side, put his arms around her shoulders and kissed her. Gently, not only for the benefit of their audience, but because he wasn’t sure about Melina’s reaction. When she gazed up at him with those intriguing lavender eyes, he did what he’d wanted to do for the past three days. He deepened the kiss until Melina’s lips stirred under his.

Their marriage might only be one of convenience, he mused as he gazed down at the surprised look on Melina’s face, but it seemed to him she had enjoyed the kiss as much as he had.

If only he hadn’t been foolish enough to agree to be a hands-off groom to a bride whose lips begged to be kissed. To complicate matters, the way she was gazing back at him was doing a number on his testosterone level.

For a moment he actually felt guilty about taking advantage of Melina, but he didn’t regret the kiss. When she pulled away, he filed the kiss under “unfinished business.”

As he listened to the minister’s small talk, Adam kept an appreciative eye on his bride. She wore a short, white, silk slip of a dress. A matching sheer scarf embroidered with tiny pink roses covered her bare, creamy shoulders. A floral wreath of pink roses woven in between tiny green ferns encircled her shining dark brown hair.

It wasn’t her mother’s wedding gown, which she’d hoped to wear on her wedding day, he’d overheard Melina lament to her friends before the ceremony. The off-the-rack dress had been all she could find to resemble a wedding dress on short notice, she’d said.

His usual dark blue business suit, white shirt and blue-and-white striped tie suited him just fine. But, what was embarrassing had been the duplicate floral wreaths Melina had produced for them to wear on their heads during the ceremony. He’d been tempted to beg off, but considering how much of a traditional Greek wedding Melina had given up by agreeing to today’s ceremony, he’d caved in.

Girls seemed to be made of more than sugar and spice, he thought as he gazed at his bride out of the corner of his eye. They were the weavers of dreams and the stuff that could hold a marriage together—if their husbands were willing to cooperate. With one failed marriage behind him, he was afraid this marriage, real or not, wasn’t destined to fare any better than his first.

He couldn’t remember ever having seen a more beautiful bride than Melina, he thought as she laughed at something Arianna said, blushed then glanced at him. He tried to look as if he hadn’t noticed, but it didn’t take much imagination to guess that the remark had been about the wedding night.

If this had been a real marriage, he would have been looking forward to the wedding night and the short honeymoon. Instead, since he was an honorable man, it was going to have to be hands off his bride, with an annulment somewhere down the line. He didn’t need the complications of having to go through another divorce. One had been bad enough.

One step at a time, he told himself. One step at a time. What he had to do was to somehow get through the rest of the evening and the brief honeymoon without touching his new wife. It wasn’t going to be easy, he thought ruefully when his body stirred at the sound of Melina’s fresh burst of laughter.

Maybe it was just as well the marriage was temporary, he mused wryly. He wasn’t husband material. A woman deserved something more than a husband who spent two out of four weeks on the go. At least, that’s what his ex had said when she’d asked for a divorce.

In spite of his attempt at pragmatic rationalization, the idea of a temporary, unconsummated marriage didn’t sound as sensible now as it had before. Not when the bride had already made giant inroads to his psyche.

He told himself Melina would get something out of the marriage—a green card. In fact, he’d already started the paperwork to get one for her as the wife of an American citizen. The way bureaucratic red tape usually inched along, he was afraid that the two-year mandatory wait was going to be trouble.

“Congratulations, my friend,” Peter said after he’d rejoined Adam. “Who would have thought an unromantic and pragmatic American like yourself would fall in love with a romantic Greek woman, and at first sight?” He stood back and regarded Adam with a quizzical look. “And even to agree to wear the traditional wedding wreath.”

Adam shrugged and glanced at the beribboned wreaths Melina now held in her hand. “It was Melina’s idea. I understand the custom brings good luck to a marriage,” he said, knowing he’d been a fraud to have agreed to wear the wreath.

Peter was right about him, Adam thought as he studied his beautiful bride. He always prided himself on being honest and straightforward to a fault. His friends had accused him of being overly cautious, straitlaced and without a sense of humor.

If they could only see him now.

“Wait a moment,” Melina called, rushing to his side. She took a rose out of one of the wreaths and tucked it into the buttonhole in his lapel. “There,” she said with a shy smile. “Something for you to remember this day.”

Adam looked into Melina’s intriguing lavender eyes—and all his nerve ends began to tingle. Real marriage or not, he wouldn’t need the rose to help him remember today’s wedding. Or that she was his wife. She was the kind of woman a red-blooded man would never forget.

Melina saw a fleeting look of regret flit over Adam’s eyes. If he was having second thoughts about their marriage bargain, she hoped it wasn’t because of her. She intended to be a good wife to Adam even if their bargain called for sleeping on separate pillows.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not really.” Adam made a show of glancing at his watch. “I was just thinking it’s about time to set off on our honeymoon.”

Melina’s mind whirled at the word “honeymoon” and all its usual connotations. The way Adam had kissed her and the way he was looking at her now made her hormones stand at attention. He had to be the temptation her strict father had warned her against, but at the moment she didn’t care. Too bad she’d asked for a no-touching rule, she thought as she thrust temptation behind her for now. “Where are we going?”

“I have a friend, Yannis Alexacki. He’s offered to lend us his villa on Corfu.”

Melina felt herself blanch and her stomach roil at the mention of Corfu. Any sensuous thoughts she might have entertained at the thought of really honeymooning with Adam flew out of her mind. “Corfu?”

“Yes. Yannis has become a good friend over the years. He’ll be able to swear we’re in love and on a real honeymoon.”

“A witness? To our honeymoon?”

Adam fought back the smile at the look on Melina’s face. “Don’t worry. Once he gives us the key, he’ll leave us alone.” And so will I, he added to remind himself this was to be a platonic marriage. When Melina didn’t look convinced, he tried to reassure her. “I arranged a honeymoon for a reason. When the United States Immigration department investigates us for your green card, Peter can swear he witnessed our wedding and Yannis will be able to swear we honeymooned at his villa.”

“But, Corfu is an island!” she blurted.

Adam looked confused. “Right. Any problem with that?”

Melina was too embarrassed to tell Adam she became seasick just thinking of a boat. “We go by boat?”

“Don’t worry,” Adam assured her. “The voyage to Corfu doesn’t take too long.”

“Long enough,” Melina muttered.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you? I’m afraid it’s a little too late to cancel now.”

“No. It’s just that I tend to get a little seasick,” Melina said bravely. What man wanted a seasick bride on a honeymoon, even if the honeymoon wasn’t going to be a real one? She’d come this far to escape her father and an arranged marriage—now was not the time to think of turning back. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

Adam motioned to the wedding guests. “We’ll leave just as soon as we say goodbye.”

“You can’t leave now,” Eleni protested when she heard Adam’s plans for a honeymoon. “It’s a custom in our country for the bride and groom to share a meal together at their wedding.”

Melina glanced at Adam. “Do we have time?”

By now Adam had had all the Greek customs and promises he could handle, including Melina’s no-touching rule. He tried to look like an eager bridegroom. “Thank you, but we have a boat to catch.”

With a dramatic sigh, Eleni dug into her purse and pulled out little paper bags filled with rice and tied with ribbons. After passing them to Peter and Arianna, she blew air kisses at Adam and Melina and, shouting, “Hopa!” she tossed the rice into the air. “May you be blessed with many children!”

Melina’s smile faded as she glanced at Adam and saw a startled look come over his face. He was right. With the no-touching rule, there would be no chance of their having children. The idea of a son that resembled Adam made her ache with a longing she’d never taken the time to dwell on before. Even though the rule had been her idea, after promising to love, honor and cherish Adam, she was almost ready to change her mind if he asked her to.

Adam swallowed hard as a grain of rice hit him above his right eye. He wasn’t going to stick around to hear any Greek blessings, tradition or not. Children! Fat chance, when he thought of his promise not to touch his bride. Besides, his daughter Jamie was enough for him. He reached for Melina’s hand and dashed with her out of the chapel.

AS IF HER FEAR of water had become a prophecy, Melina leaned limply over the side of the ferryboat taking them to Corfu. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I took the seasick pills you gave me before we left, but they don’t seem to be working.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Working on the theory that they were still in public and that touching was okay, Adam joined her on the bench and offered his handkerchief. “If I’d known you’d react this way, I would have arranged to fly to the island.”

Melina dabbed at her lips and smiled wearily. “I’m sure I’ll be fine as soon as we get on land.”

“Good.” Adam felt relieved, but he wasn’t so sure she was right. She was a good sport and deserved better than to be taken on a ferryboat that not only transported humans but also accommodated livestock.

He eyed a family huddled together across the deck. An older boy had a small pig trapped in his arms. A young sibling held the tether to a goat while his mother, from her gestures, warned him to be sure the goat didn’t chew its way free.

To really blow Adam’s mind, the goat was watching him intently.

“Yannis has arranged to have the ferryboat stop at his private dock,” Adam said with a watchful eye on the goat. “He said he would only hang around long enough to take us to his villa. I’m sure you’ll feel much better after a good night’s sleep.” He put his hand under her hair and gently massaged the back of her neck.

He heard a gentle sigh as Melina settled against him. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts against his chest gradually slowed to an even, steady beat. Surprised by her sudden silence, he gazed down at his new bride. The seasick pills must have finally worked; she’d actually fallen asleep in his arms. He raised his other hand to gently caress her cheek. Touching was okay, he told himself. They were, after all, in public.

Suddenly he felt something nudge his back. When he turned around, there was the bewhiskered goat actually trying to reach the rose Adam wore in his lapel!

He let out a curse. The boy’s mother grabbed her son by his ear and, with an apologetic smile, pointed to Adam’s jacket.

Adam tore the rose from his coat lapel, tossed it at the goat and shielded Melina before the animal had a chance to go for the small wedding bouquet she clutched in her hand.

Adam mentally compared the voyage to the uneventful ferry back home that ran between San Francisco and Sausalito. Cars and people, yes. Livestock, no. So much for quaint Greek customs.

Thankfully, Yannis, as good as his word, was waiting at his private dock where he had arranged for a special ferry stop.

Melina looked so peaceful nestled against him, Adam hated to wake her. He gathered her in his arms, motioned to an attendant to bring their two small bags and strode off the boat to meet his friend. “Thanks, Yannis. I’m sorry my wife isn’t awake to meet you,” he said, determined to have his friend believe Melina was a much-loved bride.

“Ah,” Yannis said with a broad smile. “The honeymoon has begun?”

Adam glanced down at long brown eyelashes that curved against Melina’s flushed cheeks. “I wish,” he said dryly. “I’m afraid my wife was seasick coming over. What she needs now is a good night’s rest on firm ground.”

Yannis took the two bags from the ferry attendant and motioned for Adam to follow. “I’ve arranged for your privacy. I have given the servants the weekend off,” he said expansively. “There’s enough food and drink to last you for a few days, my friend. Although I don’t suppose you will be interested in food at a time like this. The rest of the honeymoon is up to you.” He winked.

I wish, Adam thought as he shifted a sleeping Melina more comfortably in his arms. He followed his friend up the lighted stairs that had been carved into the hillside.

On the first level he reached, there was a large swimming pool surrounded by a cabana and white-and-green patio furniture. The approach to the villa itself—on the next level—was lined by graceful Greek statues and towering white marble columns covered with flowering honeysuckle vines. A beautiful blue sea and a white beach came into view.

As he realized they had reached the open interior of the villa overlooking the Ionian Sea he wished Melina was awake to enjoy the view. A few more steps and he found himself in a bedroom with a large king-size bed covered with a blue-and-white-velvet bedspread and matching pillows. The outer wall was a large picture window open to the scented evening air.

Adam’s body hardened at the impossible thought of lying against the mound of soft pillows and gazing out over the horizon with Melina in his arms.

Yannis stood aside while Adam gently placed Melina on the bed. “Nice, yes?”

“Nice, yes,” Adam echoed with a wry glance at his sleeping bride. “Is there another bedroom?”

“Another bedroom?” Yannis grinned. “There is only one bedroom here,” he added with a wink. “What would a bachelor like myself need with two bedrooms?”

Adam’s heart sank. The bed, certainly more than large enough to accommodate two people, was a temptation. But what if Melina awakened to find him in bed with her? More to the point, if he slept with her, how would he be able to keep to the no-touching rule?

Yet there was no way he was looking forward to sleeping on a couch in the other room tonight. After the surprising events of the past three days, he was simply exhausted.

“Well, my friend,” Yannis said cheerfully, “I will leave you to your honeymoon. There is a private telephone line in the den linked to my office in town, call me when you’re ready to leave.”

Adam was almost sorry to see his friend go. The immediate problem now was that he and Melina would be alone. And once they had their privacy, the damned no-touching rule would kick in.

A promise was a promise, he told himself as he turned back to the bedroom. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

In the meantime it was up to him to make sure Melina was comfortable. With the household help gone, the job was now his.

The no-touching rule would have to be suspended for now.

He mentally crossed his fingers for luck, took a deep breath and slipped off Melina’s shoes. It took a few moments for him to determine what came next, but he decided the obvious place to start was with her legs. He gently peeled silk stockings down long, shapely, creamy-smooth legs and over slender ankles to manicured toes.

The zipper on her sheer white dress presented a problem. He studied the dress before he gently turned Melina onto her side and slowly pulled down the zipper to below her waist. To his relief, Melina sighed and turned over onto her back. Sliding the dress off her shoulders and down her slender hips was a breeze.

He studied her sheer lacy bra and panties. They would prove to be a major problem that he was currently in no condition to try to resolve if he intended to honor their bargain. He left the dainty garments on, gently pulled the bedcovers back and arranged his sleeping bride in a cocoon of soft throw pillows.

Melina was everything a sane man could want in a woman, he thought as he gazed down at her. He questioned his sanity for putting himself in such a no-win situation as this. There was absolutely no way he could join her in bed and honor their bargain.

To keep himself awake, he wandered into a gleaming kitchen to find something to eat. Copper pots and pans hung from racks above the stove. A coffeemaker, a sealed canister of coffee and a toaster waited on a tiled counter.

A note on the refrigerator caught his attention. To his surprise, and great relief, it was an invitation to help himself.

Too tired to investigate the entire contents of the refrigerator, Adam reached inside for a covered plate of sliced chicken breast and an apple to munch on while he considered where to sleep.

He wandered from room to room. Unless he was a contortionist, the sectional couch in the living room was out. The couch in the den, which was no more than a futon covered with colorful pillows, resembled more of a playground than a bed.

A large TV stood against one den wall. A movie screen and a wall of built-in shelves containing dozens of videos filled another. Like the bedroom, an entire wall was made of glass.

Yannis had been dead-on about the secluded villa being a bachelor pad, Adam thought wearily as he made his way back to the kitchen—the only enclosed room in the house.

If he wanted a good night’s sleep, he had to go back to the bedroom and find a way to share the only decent bed in the house.

Adam stood at the foot of the bed, contemplating Melina. He finally decided he could resort to the early American custom of “bundling” he’d read about in some history class years ago. With beds scarce in Colonial America, he remembered reading that guests slept in the same beds separated by a barrier.





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