Marriage At His Convenience

Well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and long-legged, with thick black hair slightly longer than the present fashion, he’d been the most handsome man she had ever seen. Even when it had been obvious he’d been hopelessly out of place in a room where quite a few of the men had been openly gay, he’d exuded a powerful sexuality that had been totally, tauntingly masculine. When his dark eyes had finally rested on her, he’d smiled and she’d blushed scarlet, and when he had casually asked her to have dinner with him the next night she had agreed with alacrity.

Spiro had tried to put her off. He had told her his uncle was a predator of the first order, a shark, who would gobble up a little girl like her for breakfast. He was thirty-five, far too old for her. He liked his women smart and sophisticated—women who knew the score. Amber had replied she was smart, and Spiro had laughed.

‘In the brains department, yes, but you dress like—a blue stocking, I believe is your peculiar English term.’

Amber had thumped him, but had ignored Spiro’s warning and gone out to dinner with Lucas anyway.

It had been a magical evening. Lucas had asked her all about herself, and she’d responded by telling him her ambition to be a successful investment analyst. How she had just completed her first year at work and was delighted to have earned a huge bonus. She’d even told him she was the only child of an unmarried mother, but he had not been shocked. Finally, when Lucas had seen her to her door he had asked her if she would like to accompany Spiro and Tim to the family villa on the Karadineses’ private island of the same name in the Aegean Sea for Easter. Amber had again accepted his invitation. The kiss-on-the-cheek goodnight had been a bit of a let-down. But after questioning Spiro the next day about Lucas, she had blown a few thousand pounds of her first year’s bonus in buying a wardrobe full of designer clothes, visiting a beautician, and transforming herself into the sophisticated kind of woman she thought Lucas liked.

By the end of the island holiday, she had met the senior Mr Karadines, and Lucas had no longer been seeing her as a student friend of Spiro, but had been looking at her with blatant male sexual speculation in his dark eyes. On returning to London he had called her and wined and dined her half a dozen times, but the relationship had not developed past a goodnight kiss, admittedly each one more passionate and lingering than the last, but nothing more. Then he had gone to New York on business and she had thought he had forgotten her. Two weeks later he’d been back, and the next dinner date they’d shared she’d ended up in his hotel suite and they’d become lovers.

He was her first and only lover so she had no one to compare him with, but she did not need to. She knew she had found her soul mate. He only had to look at her and her stomach curled, and when he touched her he ignited a fire, a passion she had never known existed. She had a vivid mental image of his magnificent naked body looming over her, his powerful shoulders and hair-roughened chest, the long, tanned length of him, all straining muscle and sinew as he kissed and caressed her, and taught her the exquisite delight only two people who loved could share. Within a week, at Lucas’s insistence, she had moved into the loft apartment he had bought overlooking the Thames, and their relationship had gone from strength to strength. Just thinking about him made her heart pound, and brought a dreamy smile to her face.

‘What are you looking so happy about?’ Tim’s demand brought her out of her reverie.

She looked into the sparkling blue eyes of the blond-haired man holding open the door. ‘Happy memories,’ she said, and, walking past him, she brushed her lips against his smooth cheek. ‘Where is the birthday boy? I have a present for him.’

With the ease of long familiarity Amber strolled into the small living room. ‘Happy birthday, Spiro.’ She grinned at the slender dark-haired man elegantly reclining on a deep blue satin brocade sofa, and, gently dropping the parcel she was carrying onto his lap, she kicked off her shoes and sat down on the matching sofa opposite.

‘My, I am honoured. My esteemed uncle has actually allowed you to visit us. It must be over six months since we saw you,’ and, lifting an enquiring eyebrow to his partner, he added, ‘or is it more, Tim?’

‘Cut the sarcasm, Spiro. Amber is our friend, even if we do abhor her taste in men. Open your gift.’

‘Yes, Spiro, where Lucas is concerned we’ve agreed to differ. So open the present—I’ll have you know I went to great trouble to find just the right gift,’ Amber declared with a grin.

‘So-rry, Amber,’ he drawled dramatically. ‘You’ve caught me in a bad mood; I am finally beginning to feel my age.’

‘At twenty-three!’ she exclaimed. ‘Don’t make me laugh.’

‘You deserve to laugh, Amber. You deserve to be happy,’ Spiro suddenly said seriously.

‘I am happy.’ She grinned back. ‘Now open the parcel.’

Two minutes later Spiro was on his feet and pressing a swift kiss on Amber’s cheek. ‘I love it, Amber,’ he said, his gaze straying back to the small sketch of two young men, clad in loincloths, facing up as if to wrestle. ‘But it must have cost you a fortune—it is an original from the nineteenth century, isn’t it?’

‘Of course, I would not dare give you a fake,’ she replied, and all three laughed. Amber knew Spiro hated working for the family firm and his burning ambition was to set up his own art gallery.

Unfortunately she also knew Lucas controlled the purse strings, and Spiro could not inherit his late father’s share of the firm until he was twenty-five, or married. Spiro had a very generous monthly allowance, but he spent every penny.

The week after she’d moved in with Lucas, she had tried to put Spiro’s point of view to Lucas but he had withdrawn behind a cold, impenetrable mask and told her curtly to keep out of their family business, and also suggested she keep away from his nephew.

The ease with which he had turned into a hard, remote stranger as though her thoughts and opinions were nothing had scared her. Amber had wanted to argue, she’d tried, but Lucas had simply blanked her. Unfortunately it had put a strain on Amber’s friendship with her former flat-mates. She did keep in touch with Tim on a regular basis—they talked on the phone every week or so—but Spiro was right. It was months since she had seen them both.

‘I bet my uncle does not know you spent a fortune on this for me?’ Spiro said, propping the framed sketch on the cast-iron mantelpiece, before turning back to look down on Amber.

‘It has nothing to do with Lucas. I found out two weeks ago my bonus at the end of this financial year, on the fifth of April, is—wait for it, boys,’ and with a wide grin, she said, ‘almost a quarter of a million.’

‘Well done, Amber, love,’ Tim exclaimed. ‘I always knew you were a genius.’

‘This calls for a double celebration! Break out the bubbly, Tim, and let the party start,’ Spiro added his congratulations. ‘The three musketeers are back in action.’

Moisture glazed Amber’s eyes at Spiro’s reminder of what the three of them used to be nicknamed by their friends when they had all lived together. She’d changed and moved on, and the carefree days were long gone, but not forgotten.

The champagne was produced and toasts drank to Spiro, to Amber, to Tim, to life, and anything else they could think of. It was like old times.

Two hours later, her jacket long since removed and the clip taken from her hair, Amber was curled up on the sofa with a glass of champagne in her hand when Spiro dropped a bomb on the proceedings.

‘So, Amber, what do you think of this idea of Lucas’s to get married? I saw Grandfather yesterday—he is staying at the hotel while having a check-up at his Harley Street doctor, and he is delighted at the news.’

Suddenly the world seemed a wonderful place to Amber, even in her half-inebriated state. ‘He told you that? Lucas is thinking of getting married! I can’t believe it!’ she cried happily. Lucas had actually told his father they were getting married; she couldn’t wait for him to get home to ask her. Of course, she would have to pretend she didn’t know. ‘I spoke to Lucas this afternoon and I was disappointed because he can’t make it back from New York until Saturday.’ Her golden eyes sparkled like jewels in her flushed face. ‘But he did say he had some news for me, and I never guessed.’ Her not-so-subtle hint about giving up work when she was married and pregnant had obviously worked after all, she thought ecstatically.

‘According to Grandfather, Lucas has news for you, all right, but—’ Spiro started to speak but was cut off in mid-flow by Tim.

‘Shut up, Spiro. Amber does not need to know second hand.’

‘Please, Spiro, tell me what your grandfather said. I have only met him the one time we were all in Greece but I thought he liked me.’

A harsh laugh escaped Spiro. ‘Oh, he likes you, all right, but not for what you think.’

‘Spiro, no. It is none of your business,’ Tim interjected again. ‘We are having a good time—leave it.’

‘Why? Amber has been our friend for years—she deserves to know the truth. Do you really want her to find out cold?’

Lost in her dream of wedded bliss, she was only half listening but it slowly began to dawn on Amber that the two men were arguing. ‘What’s the matter?’ She glanced from one to the other. They looked serious. Straightening up in the seat, she drained her glass and placed it on the floor at her feet. ‘Come on, guys, find what out cold?’ she demanded cheerfully.

The two men looked at each other, and then Tim nodded. ‘You’re right, she deserves better.’

‘Better than what?’ Amber queried.

Spiro jumped to his feet. ‘Better than my bastard of an uncle.’

‘Oh, please, Spiro, not that again. Why can’t you just be happy that Lucas and I love each other? We accept you and Tim are partners, why can’t you return the favour and accept Lucas and I are partners just the same, instead of bleating on about him being a bastard?’

When she’d first told Tim and Spiro she was moving out to set up home with Lucas, Spiro had tried all ways to get her to change her mind. Finally, in a rage, he’d told her Lucas was the illegitimate child of his grandfather, and his mother was little better than a prostitute, notorious in Athens for her string of lovers, and Lucas was no better. Amber had refused to listen then and she refused to listen now. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I never knew my father. So what does that make me?’

Spiro, his anger subsiding, looked at her with glistening brown eyes full of compassion. ‘I didn’t mean it literally, though that is true. I meant it figuratively, Amber. Lucas does not consider you his partner. He considers you his mistress, nothing more, and easily dispensable.’

‘Only married men have mistresses, Spiro,’ Amber snapped back. ‘You know nothing about my relationship with Lucas.’ Her face paled at Spiro’s hurtful comments. ‘And I think it’s time I left.’ Rising unsteadily to her feet, she glanced down at her old friends. Tim was watching her with compassion, and that hurt more than anything else did. Tim had known her since infant school, surely she should be able to count on his support? But apparently not.

‘Listen to Spiro, Amber. It’s for your own good,’ Tim said quietly.

‘Lucas is good for me and to me, and that is all I need to know.’ Picking up her purse, she slipped her shoes back on her feet.

‘Wait, Amber.’ Spiro stood up and caught her arm as she would have moved towards the door. ‘You are a lovely, highly intelligent girl, with a genius for picking winners in the money markets, but you’re hopelessly naive where men are concerned. Lucas is the only man you have ever known.’

‘He is the only man I want to know. Now, let go of my arm.’

Reluctantly Spiro let her go. ‘Just one more thing, Amber. I know who Lucas intends marrying, and it is not—’