Minutes later, Stavros kissed his wife with a thrill of triumph. Strangely, the prize he most anticipated claiming was not the corporation. He was suddenly annoyed with himself that he had only booked a few short days-and nights-in Paris before he took Calli to New York.
It was an odd shift in priorities that he put down to sexual frustration, but these few days of making arrangements had been interminable. The last thing he had patience for was a drawn-out goodbye between Calli and her employer, especially when it put tears in her eyes.
"Thank you," she choked as she hugged Takis. "I'm sorry."
"For what? You silly girl." Takis rubbed her upper arms. "I'm the one who is sorry. I know I let you down. If I hadn't, you wouldn't be doing this."
"No! You gave me so much. Now I'm leaving like I don't appreciate it, but I do. I swear I do."
"All I ever gave you was a chance. You earned everything else. I wish you luck." His face grew grave and concerned. "Call me. Any time, for any reason. Understand?"
She nodded.
"I mean it."
"I know," she murmured and turned to his daughter. Ophelia sobbed openly and they hugged a long time, Calli murmuring reassuring noises to the teenager. "You call me anytime," she said as they finally broke apart. "For any reason."
"I love you, Calli."
"I love you, too. Stay out of trouble, paidi mou." There was such conflict, such an agony of torn loyalty in Calli's expression, Stavros felt guilty taking her hand and drawing her away, like he was wrenching her from her family.
If she felt so close to them, why was she marrying him?
He wanted to believe the answer was obvious. Money, of course, but she had seemed rather ambivalent about the settlement they had negotiated, saying only, "Wow. You really want this marriage. I'll try to live up to that."
She hadn't tried to negotiate the value higher so he had wound up increasing the ceiling amount himself. He hadn't lied to Takis when he had said she would be well taken care of, even if she didn't know how to do that herself.
He was still thinking about that, wondering about her reasons for wanting this marriage, when they were settled aboard his private jet. He watched her turn his rings round and round on her finger as though having second thoughts.
"What else did Takis give you besides a job?" he asked.
Her brows came together in dismay as she turned her head to look at him. After a surprised pause, she settled her hands in her lap and said, "I thought we agreed to keep this just business."
"We have to talk about something for the next six months. You didn't like the idea of my investigating you. Tell me yourself what you want me to know."
Her chin set and she rearranged the fall of her skirt. She was still in her wedding dress, but it didn't seem out of place. It seemed rather apropos, given the virginal nerves emanating off her.
In the back of his mind, he kept thinking of that overheard conversation, when Takis had said, What happened to waiting until you're married? She wasn't a virgin, was she? In this day and age?
"He gave me a home. Trust. Respect." He heard poignancy in her tone, like she feared she had lost those things all over again.
Stavros trusted her. To a point. He respected her as much as he respected any form of life. Maybe a little more, since she had the capacity for kindness and humor. Nevertheless, he was fairly sure his money was not her goal. She had other motives he had yet to determine. That produced a natural caution in him.
"He said he asked you to marry him because people were gossiping about your arrangement."
"They were. But I had already put up with it for two years. I didn't see the point in trying to change it just because I had turned nineteen. Frankly, they still would have talked. The age difference was that wide. And I didn't think of him that way."
He hadn't realized how young she was until he had filed for the marriage license. She didn't look more than the twenty-three she was, but there was a maturity in her demeanor that suggested she was a lot older.
"You were seventeen when you went to live with him?" Maybe she was a virgin. "Where were your parents?"
"They live on the island." Something in her tone warned him he was treading dangerous ground.
He had asked if her parents would be coming to Athens for the wedding. Her flat no had half convinced him they were dead.
"Did they disapprove of your living with Takis?"
"They disapproved of a lot of things."
He suspected that was a colossal understatement, given the marble-like smoothness of her profile. "Is that why you moved in with Takis? Did you run away?"
"They kicked me out." Her hands clenched into fists, crushing the delicate silk of her dress. "I was sleeping on the beach. It's a small island. Everyone knew my business. I thought it would be better to get to the mainland, but I didn't have ferry fare. Takis was the richest man on the island. I knew he was widowed. When I saw him waiting in his car for the ferry..."
Her mouth pursed. Bright red flags of shame rose in her cheeks as she turned her head to look at him, but she met his gaze without quailing. Defiant almost, while the shadows of anguish in her eyes made the honey gold of her irises hard as amber.
A spike of nausea went into his gut, anticipating what was coming, even though he somehow wanted to travel back in time and prevent the exchange she was about to admit to.
"I made him an offer he kindly refused." She tried to smooth the creases from her skirt as she realized how badly she had wrinkled it. "He knew there are plenty of men in this world who wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of a desperate teenager, though. He was on his way to pick up Ophelia from her grandparents and hire a new nanny. She was running through them like penny candy. He said he would give me a shot, but made it clear he wouldn't tolerate drugs or stealing or anything else like that. He's not a bleeding heart."
"Is that why your parents threw you out? Drugs? Stealing?"
"No." It took her a minute to continue. Her hands twined together so tightly her nail beds turned white. "I, um, messed around with a tourist. My father said I shamed him."
Ah. Not a virgin. He was disappointed, but not for possessive reasons. He sensed that experience had colored her view of men and sex.
"Is that why you wanted to wait until marriage to sleep with me? Because you had premarital sex and got thrown out for it?"
She hitched a shoulder. She was back to offering only her profile, and blinked rapidly. "I just didn't want to be used again. At least this time it's mutual." Her mouth quirked with distaste. "I won't be left with nothing."
That mercenary streak of hers shouldn't have chafed. He ought to find it comforting, he supposed, since it made her motives seem really straightforward, but he found himself saying, "I wondered why you were leaving him when you're obviously very attached. Money does make the girl turn round, doesn't it?"
She swiveled just her head, eyes wide with hurt and something else. Bitter astonishment. "Are you pointing out that I haven't risen very far from offering myself to Takis for ferry fare? I'm aware. But you married for money, too. If you find my behavior distasteful, it's because you're looking in a mirror."
Calli had already been reeling over what she'd done before Stavros had pushed a stiletto of an insult between her ribs.
She judged herself harshly enough, thanks. She'd married a stranger so he would take her to America. She was going to sleep with him and pose as his wife so she could search for her son.
Takis had nearly come apart at the seams when she had told him what she had agreed to. Ophelia's mother had been the love of Takis's life, but he cared for Calli. Under his blunt exterior, he had always been protective of her, which was sweet, but as time wore on, it had also begun to abrade. Ophelia had said her father smothered and controlled. It was his way of trying to prevent the people he cared about from being hurt, but even with the search for Calli's son, Takis had always been too quick to take the lead and make a call and act as go-between.
She had felt held back, but she had let him shield her for a number of reasons, not least of which was her belief, deep down, that she was to blame for what had happened. She feared she wasn't good enough to be a part of her son's life. Brandon's family hadn't thought so. Her own parents had berated her for going through with the pregnancy then orchestrated Dorian's removal from her custody. She had failed to hang on to him, had failed to even find out where he was.
She had failed as a mother.
So what right did she have to search for Dorian now? Would he even want anything to do with her? He was so young. Six. Was he in school? He might not even know he was adopted.