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“We didn’t mean for it to happen, did we? But we have a surprising effect on each other.” He reached across to touch the cuff on the edge of her ear, the small one of three bands that she had fastened onto her ear for reasons she didn’t want to examine.

His brief touch set her whole being vibrating, filling her ears with a ringing sound.

“Our affair was unexpected. We didn’t take the precautions we should have.”

“I’m not like that,” she insisted.

“Neither am I,” he stated with assurance. “I’m very careful about avoiding unintended consequences.” He picked up his wine to sip, eyeing her over the rim of the glass. “But no one will believe I fell in love, Alia. What they will believe is that I confided in my brother that I was about to become a father. That prompted him to take rash action when he feared I might not survive my injuries.”

“You expect me to tell people I got myself pregnant by a vacationing womanizer?” she asked in a strident whisper. “Do you know how careful I am to live in a way that only reflects well on Yaya?” Her eyes grew hot and her vision blurred. She had told him why she would never even think to embarrass Herena again. She had thought Yaya had been willing to abandon her completely the first time.

“I will bitterly defend your honor should anyone accuse us of anything less than a love match,” he promised. “But your brief pregnancy is what makes this marriage believable so we will allow that version of events to exist.”

She’d never even had sex, but she’d had an unplanned pregnancy and lost the baby?

She was fighting a hot pressure behind her eyes, but before she could do more than clamp her lips in dismay, a couple approached to greet Spiro, telling him how relieved they were to see him alive and well. He made light of his injuries and introduced her.

“This is my wife, Alia.”

They looked at her with speculation, saying they had heard he was married and wasn’t that a surprise.

Alia smiled wanly. What else could she do?

Their meal was interrupted a few more times before they finished, something that Alia eventually realized had been Spiro’s plan all along. Between the upscale neighborhood and the luxury yachts, many of the restaurant’s patrons were known to him. He was getting the word out that he was fine and would be “Back to work on Monday, yes.”

She had thought he was starting to become interested in her, but he hadn’t asked her on a date or even to dine with him out of boredom. It was even less personal than that. It was icy strategy. He had propped her on the other side of the table from him to prove he was alive and still in the game. Still the rightful CEO of MSPM.

But wasn’t that all she was for him? A bulwark against Lambros?

By the time they were offered dessert, she claimed to be tired and they went home.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Spiro was starting to feel like himself again. He’d had a busy day on the phones and had worked out with his physiotherapist, who had given him a schedule to get him back into his old routine. The weights had exhausted him so he’d slept until it was time to shower and dress for this cocktail party, but the ache in his muscles was the good kind.

Alia seemed subdued, but she’d had a busy day herself. She had accompanied Herena to her appointment this morning, then spent the afternoon with the elderly woman in her suite, presumably helping her get resettled. Spiro had asked about the appointment while they had dressed for this party and Alia had said Herena’s specialist wanted to run some tests, but their conversation had turned to whether her cocktail dress was appropriate.

She had chosen a deceptively simple maroon sheathe in silk that was tailored perfectly to her figure. The strapless top cut an angled line across her chest that flared into a pleated fan against one shoulder. The skirt ended just above her knees with a short slit at the back. Her shoes were black satin and tall enough the top of her head reached his shoulder. Her hair fell in a sleek straight curtain down her back, as though she’d heeded his request and worn it down to please him.

Which it did. She had taken his breath when she appeared, looking so poised and beautifully packaged, he wanted to unwrap her like a gift, but things had been strained between them since their dinner the other night. They hadn’t talked again about sex and he told himself that was sensible, if not comfortable.

Still, she was very quiet. He put it down to shyness around people who weren’t bothering to hide their curiosity about his new bride. He didn’t love it, either. Small talk bored him and personal questions irritated him. There was always the chance he’d run into his mother and Lambros at these things, too, especially in the city.

Tonight, they were on the coast, however, not far from his villa. This wasn’t his mother’s crowd of old money and forgotten titles. It was a gathering of C-level executives and other industrial tycoons in a rooftop restaurant.

The host, Rafael, was both partner and business rival. He and Spiro often joined forces when it made sense, but they always respected each other’s pursuit of their individual goals. Spiro had accepted the invitation because he wanted to see his old friend and introduce Alia to Rafael’s wife, Alexandra. She was an American heiress who had schooled in Switzerland. She knew everyone. Letting her see them happily married was better than a full-page ad in any national newspaper.

“We should host a party like this,” Spiro said as it occurred to him.

“Why?” Alia’s eyes widened in horror.

“As a wedding reception. To introduce you properly.”

“But we’re not staying married,” she hissed. “It’s only—”

“Champagne?” A server with a tray interrupted them. “The hosts are about to make an announcement.”

They each took a glass and turned their attention to the front of the room.