Maisey Yates

Modern Romance February Books 1-4


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Zoe laughed at that suggestion, reminding Winnie that it was to be a society wedding and the last thing Stam Fotakis would want was his grandchild dressed like a bargain-basement bride. Even Winnie, nonetheless, was overwhelmed by the whole bridal-salon experience and the kind of feminine extras that there had never before been room for in her budget.

      Eros phoned her around noon and Zoe answered Winnie’s phone because Winnie was being eased into a foaming mass of lace by two assistants.

      ‘It’s Eros...’ she said, extending the phone once Winnie had emerged again.

      ‘Lunch?’ Eros enquired.

      ‘Er...’ Tumbled and flushed, Winnie stared at herself in the full-length mirror and knew she still hadn’t found the right dress because it was too fussy and frilly for her taste. ‘I’m trying on wedding stuff,’ she muttered. ‘Today’s not good.’

      ‘Dinner tonight, then,’ Eros decided arrogantly.

      ‘No, I—’ Winnie began, keen to avoid him as much as was humanly possible.

      ‘I haven’t seen you since you agreed to marry me,’ Eros reminded her darkly. ‘Is there a reason for that?’

      Something like panic infiltrated Winnie and she dragged in a stark breath, reminding herself that she had to play along and that avoiding him altogether wasn’t an option. ‘No, tonight will do fine. What time?’

      Zoe dropped the phone back into Winnie’s bag and looked at her expectantly.

      ‘Dinner tonight,’ she muttered in explanation.

      ‘Put on your acting shoes,’ Vivi advised. ‘Of course, he’s going to expect to see you and discuss arrangements and the like.’

      ‘I suppose,’ Winnie mumbled grudgingly.

      ‘Not that dress. Makes you look like a dumpy version of a ballerina doll,’ Vivi whispered, making her older sister loose an involuntary giggle.

      Even so, Winnie found it a challenge to regain her former light-hearted mood and reminded herself that it scarcely mattered what she wore to a fake wedding. But she chose a gown she liked, a sleek elegant dress that did wonders for her small curvy figure, reasoning that she needed to look her best with so many guests being invited by her grandfather and Eros.

      She borrowed a dress and shoes from Zoe to wear that evening. Her own wardrobe was small and contained few smart outfits. The dress was black and unremarkable in every way, which suited her attitude to dining out with Eros.

      ‘It’s a funeral dress,’ Vivi scolded. ‘It’s long and it’s shapeless—’

      ‘And it will do fine,’ Winnie cut in impatiently.

      ‘Don’t mind me,’ Vivi said drily. ‘But you’re supposed to be playing the happy bride-to-be.’

      ‘I’m not happy about any of this,’ Winnie admitted ruefully.

      ‘That man is about to get exactly what he deserves!’ Vivi proclaimed vengefully.

      ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right,’ Zoe reasoned with a wince, squeezing Winnie’s hand in sympathy. ‘Maybe you’ll decide to give him another chance... Who knows?’

      ‘Get a life, Zoe!’ Vivi exclaimed. ‘Eros wants his son, not Winnie.’

      Winnie’s slight shoulders hunched and colour faded from her cheeks. That even her sisters saw that so clearly mortified her.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Vivi muttered ruefully to her older sister. ‘But what else are we supposed to think? He’s divorced but he didn’t come looking for you even when he was free, did he?’

      ‘No,’ Winnie conceded, sucking in a steadying breath when faced with that truth again, hating herself for squirming at the reminder. What did it matter with only a fake wedding ahead of her? What did any of it matter now? She had loved him but he hadn’t loved her, the oldest story of heartbreak in the world and one of the most common, she told herself impatiently.

      ‘Maybe he felt guilty too,’ Zoe muttered. ‘Maybe he didn’t feel entitled to be happy after his divorce.’

      ‘Oh...you!’ Vivi scolded her optimistic kid sister. ‘You’d find a bright side to any catastrophe!’

      None of those somewhat distressing conversations put Winnie in the mood to see Eros again. She reckoned she was oversensitive to the pain that Eros had caused her and equally thin-skinned when it came to that past being discussed because he had been a subject her siblings had staunchly avoided during the period when she was nursing a broken heart. Fortunately, she had moved on, got over him, completely got over him, she reminded herself doggedly.

      It didn’t help to walk out to the limousine that was there to collect her and see Eros standing beside the open passenger door in dialogue with a man who was unmistakeably one of her grandfather’s security team. One glance at that classic bronzed profile and the sheer height and elegance of him in a formal dinner jacket and narrow black trousers and she was challenged to even swallow.

      Her heart started thumping very fast inside her, a memory stirring of Eros arriving late at the country house one Friday evening, having attended a banking dinner he couldn’t avoid. Heat washed up over her dismayed face and she ducked past Eros and darted straight into the limo, only unfortunately nothing could drown out her recollection of having had mad passionate sex on the sofa in the drawing room with him that night. She had been shocked by how desperate he had seemed for her and then foolishly pleased, deeming it a sign of deeper attachment. She hated looking back with hindsight, seeing how stupid she had been, continually mistaking sex for love.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ Eros asked, studying her rigidity.

      ‘Nothing’s wrong!’ Winnie proclaimed, dry-mouthed with tension, thinking wildly of an excuse to explain her discomfiture. ‘It’s all the wedding stuff...such a fuss. I can’t think straight.’

      ‘I thought all women enjoyed that sort of thing,’ Eros admitted.

      ‘Me...not so much,’ she said truthfully, even knowing that once, had it been a real, proper wedding backed by love and need, she would have been overjoyed to be marrying him. That time was past, gone, she recalled, furious with herself for even thinking along those lines.

      ‘It won’t last long,’ Eros said soothingly, trying not to remember the planning insanity of his first wedding. ‘We’re getting married the middle of next week on Trilis.’

      ‘Trilis? Where’s that?’

      ‘A private island in Greece where the Nevrakis family started out as olive farmers and also ran a small hotel.’

      ‘I assumed I’d be getting married at Grandad’s house.’

      ‘My family always get married on the island,’ Eros countered smoothly.

      Winnie swallowed hard on the objections brimming on her lips, wondering how much harder it would be to leave an island after the public wedding show was over. She had no doubt that her grandfather had already factored in that added difficulty to his plans because he was not a man to leave anything undone. But guilt gnawed at Winnie’s conscience because Eros was taking the wedding as seriously as though he were a real bridegroom...

       My family always get married on the island.

      She wondered if he had married his first wife there and then punished herself for that inappropriate piece of curiosity by reminding herself of how he had threatened to harm her entirely innocent sisters. Eros Nevrakis did not deserve her guilt, she told herself urgently. He was as ruthless as a killing machine in shark form, taking what he wanted without care for what it might cost someone else.

      Stam Fotakis had already helped her and her sisters a great deal and she owed the older man not just gratitude but loyalty, she reminded herself firmly. She had to choose sides, there was no other option and every instinct warned her to choose