‘My grandfather has been diagnosed with cancer. He’s not been given very long to live.’
He spoke so coldly that I drew back a little.
Matteo bared his teeth in a grim smile. ‘As you are most likely able to surmise, we are not close.’
‘So you want me to marry you and then live on some remote island for a maximum of two years?’
Not that it sounded so bad right then. I was a breath away from being homeless as it was. And yet it would be a prison of sorts, and it meant giving this man all the power—two things I really didn’t like.
‘There could be worse things, surely?’
Of course there could. And yet…
‘Why should I trust you? I could agree and you could bundle me into the back of a van in the next second.’
Matteo’s eyes flashed with ire, as if he disliked being accused in such a way. ‘I could bundle you into the back of a van regardless of whether you agree or not. If you need some guarantees I shall put them in place.’
‘How?’
He shrugged. ‘Everything will be written in a legal contract and witnessed.’
I shook my head. ‘That’s not worth very much. How do I know I can trust you not to take advantage?’
His gaze raked me from head to toe. ‘Trust me, I will not take advantage.’
Ouch. My cheeks flushed and I focused my humiliated gaze on my coffee. Why was I even having this conversation?
‘But if it makes you feel better, everything can be done in public—the contract, the marriage itself, your transport. I’ll book a first-class ticket on a commercial airline.’
I hesitated, because it all sounded too good to be true, and I knew what that looked like. I knew what it felt like. Just the memory of Chris Dawson’s leering face and grasping hands was enough to turn my stomach and make me want to hang my head in shame. Surely I’d wised up since then? Realised that people spouted honeyed words and then watched you get stuck in them?
‘There must be some catch,’ I protested.
‘No catch.’
‘There’s always a catch.’
‘This time there isn’t.’
He placed one hand on my arm, making me jolt. A warm rush of longing swept through me, surprising me in its strength, because his touch was so clearly one of empathy rather than desire. I was smart enough to realise that this man did not think of me that way, and most likely never would—which was a good thing. That was a complication, not to mention a danger, I most certainly didn’t need.
He gave me a smiling look of understanding and compassion, and its warmth strengthened that surge of longing in a way that made me feel deeply uneasy. It was one thing to be physically attracted to a man like Matteo Dias. That was inevitable. It was another matter entirely to connect with him emotionally—even for a second. Far, far too dangerous.
I pulled away and he dropped his hand.
‘I understand why you’d be concerned. You’ve had a bad experience recently, and it’s all too easy to be taken advantage of these days—especially when you are a young woman on your own. You are on your own?’
It was barely a question, and it grated that it was so obvious I had no one in my life—no boyfriend, no family, no friends, even. ‘Yes.’ I forced myself to give him a direct look. ‘How did you know?’
Matteo shrugged. ‘There is a…a loneliness about you. Like a mist.’
I looked away, hating the fact that my eyes were stinging at his surprisingly compassionate and yet brutally honest assessment. A loneliness like a mist? Yes, I felt that—cloaking me in its sadness even though I didn’t want to be sad. I’d always tried to see the sunny side of life, to be optimistic even when there was little reason to be so. Sometimes it felt like the only good thing I had, but too many experiences lately had robbed me of my hope. My joy. And now this…
‘So please,’ Matteo continued, ‘let me reassure you that this offer is entirely above board. I will draw up an agreement that will protect your rights as well as my own. If you come to the courthouse in an hour you can read and sign that agreement, and then I’ll deposit the money in your bank account and arrange your travel to Athens. I can have someone meet you there, or you can arrange your own travel, if that makes you feel safer. Let someone know where you are going if you need a safeguard. Whatever you want. You’ll be in control of everything, with zero risk.’
His mouth curved, his teeth flashing white as he read the name badge on my waitress uniform.
‘Trust me, Daisy, this is your lucky day.’
And so it was—although I felt more anxious than excited when I met him at the courthouse an hour later.
We went over the contract in painstaking detail, although the numbers and words all blurred in my mind.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Matteo asked me seriously.
Again that surprising compassion warmed his eyes, making me do the one thing I’d been sure, right up until that moment, I wouldn’t. I said yes.
Triumph blazed in his eyes then, and I wondered if I was crazy. Was I throwing my life away? My freedom and even my safety? I didn’t know this man.
And yet something about him, despite his hard ruthlessness and innate arrogance, made me trust him. Stupidly, because I’d already learned not to trust people, and yet some stubborn part of me still kept wanting to.
Besides, I told myself, as Matteo had said, I would be in control. I watched him wire the money to my bank account. I saw him book the first-class ticket to Athens. He did both just minutes after the marriage ceremony, which was so fast I could have blinked and missed it. We exchanged no rings. We didn’t even touch. It felt completely soulless, and yet it was legally binding.
Afterwards Matteo took my hands in his own, which were warm and dry and strangely comforting. He stared into my eyes, a smile curving his mouth, making him seem softer somehow. Kinder.
‘Thank you, Daisy,’ he said, and his voice was full of warmth.
Foolish me, my heart fluttered.
Foolish because the next words out of his mouth were, ‘Hopefully we’ll never have to see each other again.’
‘I STILL DON’T understand why you want an annulment.’
Daisy Campbell—no, Daisy Dias—had surprised me a few too many times this evening, and this surprise was the most unwelcome one of all. I’d given her everything she could possibly want. Why would she want to hand it all back? It was the last thing I expected. The last thing I wanted.
I married Daisy Campbell both to satisfy and to spite my grandfather, and it was so very sweet to experience both when I tossed the marriage certificate on Bastian Arides’s desk and informed him of my new status.
‘You made a condition and it has now been met.’
‘And your wife?’ he asked, looking stunned by my bloodless coup.
I laughed as I told him the truth. ‘A dumpy nobody of a waitress I picked up from a diner in New York. She’s currently residing on Amanos, in case you feel the need to check.’
Bastian’s mouth dropped open; he’d expected me to marry some suitable socialite he could add to the family pedigree—some way, perhaps, to justify my place in his life, bastard grandson that I was. Little did he know me. Little