The Greek's Ready-Made Wife. Jennifer FayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
resorted to a big guilt trip.
“I know some people who go by the name Pappas—”
“You do?” Could it really be this simple? “How do I find them?”
He held up a hand. “Slow down. Pappas isn’t exactly a unique name.”
“Oh.” She’d known that from her research, but after hitting so many dead ends, she just wanted some hope.
“Do you have much family in the States?” Cristo’s voice halted her thoughts.
“There’s just me and my mother. The rest of my mother’s family, small as it was, passed away. I thought my mother would understand my need to find out more about my past, especially after losing my father. But all she did was get angry and resentful any time I brought up a trip to Greece. Finally, I just stopped trying to make her understand.”
“So you thought by taking a job here that you would have the perfect excuse to investigate your family’s roots?”
She nodded. At the same time, her phone chimed. Expecting it to be Sofia, she grabbed it from her pocket. The caller ID said Mom. Kyra forwarded the call to her voice mail before slipping the phone back in her pocket.
“If you need to answer that, go ahead.”
“It’s not important. I’ll get it later.” The last thing Kyra needed right now was to talk to her mother in front of Cristo—a man who had a way of short-circuiting her thoughts with just a look. No man had ever had that kind of power over her. And she wasn’t sure she liked it, but another part of her found him exciting—exhilarating—unlike any man she’d ever known.
“Suit yourself.” He moved to the fully stocked refrigerator and removed a bottle of water. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Would you care for one, too?”
What would it hurt? After all, he was being nice enough and she was a bit thirsty. “Yes. Thank you.”
Her phone chimed again. It wasn’t like her mother to call right back. Kyra did a quick time change in her head and realized that her mother should be at her second part-time job. Perhaps she was just checking in on one of her breaks.
When Cristo handed over the bottle, their fingers brushed. Their gazes met and held. The breath caught in her throat. She’d never gazed into eyes so intense, so full of energy. She’d heard people talk about instant attraction but she hadn’t really known what they were talking about until now. Sure, she’d noticed some really good-looking guys, but they’d always been easily forgotten. Something told her that Cristo would not be so easily dismissed.
He stepped back. “If you’d like something to eat, I could order from the restaurant downstairs.”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” With the flutter of nerves in her stomach, there was no way she could eat a bite of anything. “About the arrangement. Will we have to be seen in public together?”
“Definitely.” His gaze narrowed. “Will that be a problem? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No. No boyfriend.” She glanced down at her casual clothes and then at his designer suit. “But I don’t have anything appropriate in my wardrobe.”
“No worries. A new wardrobe and accessories will be part of your benefits package.”
Just like that he could arrange for a new, designer wardrobe without even a thought. Wow. How much was this man worth?
With a slight tremor in her hand, she pressed the cold bottle to her lips and took a small sip. She tried to recall the other questions she’d wanted to ask, but her mind drew a blank. At least she’d asked the important ones.
He walked over and placed his bottle on the bar. “I know this is rushing things, but I really need to know your answer to my offer.”
“You definitely don’t give a girl much time to weigh her options.”
His voice grew deeper. “Maybe I just don’t want to give you time to find an excuse to back out on me. I can already tell you’re going to make my life interesting. You, my dear, are quite intriguing. And I find that refreshing.”
“Is that all you find attractive?” The flirtatious words slipped over her lips before they registered in her mind.
His eyes lit up as the heat of embarrassment swirled in her chest and rose up her neck. What was she doing? She barely even knew this man. And yet, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but if she wasn’t cautious, she’d get burned.
“It’s definitely not the only attractive aspect of this arrangement. Not even close—”
“The money you offered, is it still part of the deal?”
He nodded.
“And can you pay me weekly?” She wanted to pay down the mortgage as soon as possible.
His brows rose. “If that’s what you’d like.”
“It is.”
She made the mistake of gazing into his eyes and noting that he looked at her with genuine interest. Did she really intrigue him? Her heart fluttered. Would it be so bad to have a gorgeous fiancé for just a bit? After all, you only live once. What did it hurt to have a little adventure?
And aside from the money, he’d mentioned helping her to search for her family roots. Now she had to make certain it was part of the deal. “And you agree to assist me in the search for my extended family?”
“I do.”
She stepped up to him and extended her hand. “You have yourself a fiancée.”
Instead of accepting her hand and shaking it, he lifted it to his lips. His feathery light kiss sent waves of delicious sensations coursing through her body. Much too soon he released her.
“When, um...do we start?” She hoped her voice sounded calmer than she felt at the moment.
“Right now. You have a wedding to plan and we need to get to know each other much better if we are going to convince others that we’re a genuine couple.”
Her phone chimed. It was her mother again. Something was definitely wrong. Kyra couldn’t deny it any longer. “Excuse me for a moment while I answer this.”
He nodded in understanding.
Kyra moved toward the wall of windows that overlooked the white sandy beach and aquamarine water. She pressed the phone to her ear. Before she could utter a word, she heard her mother’s voice.
“Kyra, why didn’t you answer your phone? I didn’t call to talk to your voice mail. Do you even listen to your messages? If you had, you’d know this is important—”
“Mom, stop. Take a breath and then tell me what’s the matter.”
“Everything.”
Her mother had a way of blowing things out of proportion. Please let this be one of those times. “Mom, are you all right? You aren’t in the hospital, are you?”
“The hospital? Why would I be there?”
Kyra exhaled a relieved sigh. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“My life. It’s over. You have to come home.”
Not melodramatic at all. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“How would you know? You don’t even know what’s the matter.”
Kyra fully expected this would be another engineered guilt trip. “Mom, just tell me.”
“I would if you’d quit interrupting.”
Keeping her back to Cristo, Kyra rolled her eyes. Why did talking to her mother always have to be an exercise in patience? Her father must have had more patience than a saint. “I’m listening now.”
“They