His mouth thinned. Was this the man playing yet more of his damn games? If so, his only purpose could be to flex his power just for the sake of it. After all, he’d got exactly what he’d held out for—a Lakaris son-in-law—so why the delay now? At this rate getting the merger pulled together would take irritatingly longer than Xandros had wanted it to take.
On the other hand... His expression changed. It was an ill wind that blew no one any good at all.
A delay will give me longer with Rosalie.
His dark eyes glinted appreciatively
. That would definitely be a bonus—no doubt about it.
One of the things that was exacerbating his frustration with his father-in-law’s dilatory co-operation over expediting the merger between them was the fact that all the demands of making it happen were keeping him in the office for far longer than he wanted.
Increasingly, he wanted to be spending time with Rosalie. Making the most of her while he had her—before they had to part company and go their own ways.
The frown was back in his eyes again. That was a pretty negative way of putting it...
And why be negative about something that’s a positive?
Because of course it was entirely a positive that theirs was to be a temporary marriage, existing only for the purpose of making the Lakaris-Coustakis merger a reality.
It was a positive that when that happened he and Rosalie would dissolve their marriage and she would return to England, to a comfortable life of financial security. Leaving him in Greece to resume his carefree bachelor lifestyle again.
Except... His frown deepened as he sat at his desk, staring blankly at his computer screen. Except he had to admit that thought held little appeal.
Instead, his thoughts went back to the previous weekend. It had been good to take Rosalie to that birthday celebration—surprisingly good to realise that he, too, was now one of the many married couples of his acquaintance and no longer a singleton. Rosalie had seemed to enjoy herself, which was important, and though he’d heard her half-sister’s name mentioned he had forestalled any deterioration of the conversation into potentially tactless discussion of Ariadne.
Anyway, it hadn’t needed his arm possessively around Rosalie to show all his friends the convincing proof that Ariadne was history and why. They’d all been able to see how blown away he was by Rosalie—and not just because of her stunning beauty, or the way he only had to look at her to want to sweep her off to bed.
I enjoy her company.
He’d known that from the start, he realised—even before he’d claimed her for his own. She was easy to be with...enjoyable to be with. Good to be with. Good to spend time with.
They’d done a lot of that over the weekend. Spending time together. On the Saturday, the day after the birthday bash, they’d piled into his car and taken off across the Corinth Canal into the Peloponnese, down past the ancient sites of Mycenae and Epidaurus.
Rosalie’s eyes had widened as he’d told her the tales and the history he’d grown up with, which she hungered for to make up for her missing birthright.
They’d spent the night in Naphlion, Greece’s first capital after regaining its modern independence, and Rosalie had been enchanted by the graceful old houses and peaceful squares there. It had been good—very good—to wander with her, hand in hand, exploring the narrow streets and byways, taking their time, taking their ease, enjoying it all...
He wished he could look forward to taking her sightseeing the whole of the coming weekend. But that wasn’t going to be possible. Not because he would be tied to his desk, working on the merger, but because his mother had invited them to lunch on Saturday.
He knew he couldn’t get out of it. His mother needed to meet Rosalie—if for no other reason than to forestall any potential gossip that she was ostracising her new daughter-in-law. To stop any rumours that she wasn’t meeting Rosalie because she expected the marriage to be of short duration. That must definitely not get back to Stavros!
Xandros gave a resigned sigh. He hoped his mother would go easy on Rosalie...not make her preference for Ariadne too obvious. Had she heard from Rosalie’s sister yet? he wondered, and then put the question aside. Ariadne would surface when she was good and ready, and he wished her well. But between her and Rosalie there was no comparison. None at all.
How could he ever have seriously contemplated marrying Ariadne? It seemed absurd now. Now that he had Rosalie...
While he had her...
Without his being aware of it, the frown had come back to his eyes...even before his secretary had put her head around his door to tell him that the Coustakis accounts he’d been so impatient for had still not arrived.
Stavros’s delays were not all that displeased him...
* * *
Rosalie’s eyes widened as Xandros nosed his car down the long drive and his mother’s home came into sight. This was not a house—it was a mansion! More like the Greek equivalent of an English stately home. The large three-storey edifice was set in equally spacious grounds, deep in the countryside to the north of Athens. Tall cypresses flanked it on either side, and a large stone ornamental pond with a trickling fountain fronted it as they crunched along the gravel drive.
‘It was built in the nineteenth century,’ Xandros was telling her, ‘by my great-great-grandfather, after the creation of the modern Greek state. I grew up here.’ He paused. ‘I was very fortunate to be able to do so,’ he went on.
His voice had changed, Rosalie could hear, and she looked at him questioningly.