The Greek's Forbidden Bride. Cathy Williams
money. Because Michael lived in Brighton and ran a couple of restaurants and a nightclub did not mean that he was unaffected by the fabulous Toyas wealth. In fact, he owned a great deal of highly valuable shares in the company and the trust fund into which he occasionally dipped was well beyond most people’s wildest dreams. He lived a modest enough lifestyle, and at first glance might just come across as being an up-and-coming successful young businessman. That, as Theo knew only too well, was only the tip of the iceberg, just his brother modestly disassociating himself from the vast fortune that was attached to his name. Anyone interested in tapping into the mother lode would only have to do some rudimentary detective work and he was pretty sure that was exactly what had happened.
He was equally sure that he would do anything in his power to prevent his brother being exploited. Although he worried less about Michael than his mother did, he was still very protective of him. Michael trusted people, a huge drawback in life as far as Theo was concerned. To trust was to be vulnerable. Only fools were vulnerable.
He sat forward, black eyes hard as he focused on the girl emerging from the taxi. She was slight in stature, with long, very blonde hair, almost white-blonde in fact, which fell down her back in one perfectly satin-smooth, straight curtain. She kept playing with it, lifting it with one hand into a makeshift ponytail and then letting it drop, and all the while she stared around her, lips parted, taking in the opulence of the surroundings.
Clocking the price tag around Michael’s neck, Theo thought cynically to himself.
Still, he conceded grudgingly, the boy had taste. He couldn’t see the details of the girl’s face but she was neatly built with slim legs and very slender arms. A boyish figure, barely filling the short, strappy dress. Unlike him, Michael had never shown the least interest in the voluptuous, sexy girls that Greece boasted.
He watched as suitcases were taken out of the taxi, his mind ticking along its ruthlessly logical path. When they disappeared from view he pushed himself off the lounger and sauntered into his bedroom, draining the remainder of the whisky in one gulp and dumping the empty glass on the sideboard in the room.
His room was typical of most of the many rooms in the enormous villa. It was luxuriously but simply furnished. The stained wooden floor was dominated by a large, brightly patterned rug and the walls were painted a pale terracotta, an effective backdrop for the cream curtains that hung from floor to ceiling. Against one wall was an impressive Syrian chest embellished with mother-of-pearl and above that hung a darkly compelling painting of the island’s famous volcano by twilight. The majority of the furniture was of dark wood, which gave the room a decadent, opulent feel.
Theo barely noticed any of it. He was busy thinking, working out the best way to approach the girl without rousing his brother’s suspicions or incurring his mother’s displeasure. The latter, he thought to himself, would be slightly more of a challenge.
And who, he thought with a small smile, ever said that Theo Toyas didn’t appreciate a challenge?
He was still contemplating the technicalities of revealing this gold-digger in their midst when, an hour later, he made his way to one of the sitting areas where he knew drinks would already be underway for the guests who had arrived. Not that many of them had so far. Most would be descending the following day, but on this first night there would essentially be just close family members. His grandfather, of course, and his mother, as well as uncles and aunts and their various offspring. And Michael and the woman.
Drinks were being served in the sitting area which overlooked the back gardens. He had spent a couple of pleasantly invigorating hours here earlier on with his mother, arguing the practicality of lighting up the outside area with lanterns and had, as he had expected, lost the debate. As he entered the sitting area, though, he had to admit that the effect was stunning.
The gardens seemed alive with giant fireflies and several of the guests were outside having their drinks, seduced by the romance of the scenery.
‘I admit it looks rather splendid,’ Theo said, grabbing a drink en route and strolling up to where his mother was quietly contemplating the stage she had masterfully set.
Lina turned to her eldest son and smiled. ‘George likes it too. He fussed and fretted about all the effort involved, but look at him out there, puffing and preening like a peacock and accepting all the compliments. It is just a shame that your father is no longer around. He would have enjoyed the moment.’
Theo slung his arm around his mother’s shoulder and nodded. ‘We haven’t had one of these family gatherings since…since that wedding five years ago. Elena and Stefano.’
‘They will be here tomorrow. Along with their two children.’ Lina turned to him and gave him a long, critical look. She was, he freely admitted, the only human being on the face of the earth who could look at him like that and get away with it. ‘It could have been you,’ she pointed out, without bothering to beat about the bush. ‘You are not a young boy any longer. This dynasty needs its heirs, Theo.’
‘And they will be produced,’ Theo murmured placatingly, ‘all in good time.’
‘Alexis Papaeliou will be coming,’ Lina ventured. ‘She would be a good match, Theo. Her grandfather grew up with George. They still keep in touch now, even though it is not as easy as it once was.’
‘Papaeliou…yes the name rings a bell. Alexis, pretty name, and I have to admit that three months of celibacy is beginning to get to me.’ He grinned as his mother blushed furiously at his outrageously personal observation, and then indulged her as she reminded him that he was bordering on being disrespectful. Her voice was teasingly indulgent, however, as he had known it would be.
‘Of course,’ he said lightly, looking out to the gardens and the clusters of chattering people with drinks in their hands, ‘there is no rush for me now, is there? With Michael having won the race to secure a bride…’
‘Now, Theo…’
‘I am merely making an observation, dearest Mama…’
‘In a tone of voice which I am not sure I like. I have met the young woman and she seems perfectly friendly, if a little dazed at the surroundings.’
I’ll just bet, Theo thought to himself. The dazedness, he reckoned, would last just about as long as it took her to add up the millions looming just over the horizon. He opened his mouth to share some of these thoughts with his mother, and then thought better of it. She often accused him of cynicism and she would have a very good reason for doing so again now, although he preferred to use the term cautious.
‘Where are they?’ he asked casually.
‘They’ll be down in a short while,’ Lina said. ‘And Theo…be good.’
‘Mama, I am always good.’ He looked down at her and smiled as she shook her head and sighed. ‘Michael loves this woman. I can see that. Do not spoil anything…’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Theo said noncommittally, and before he could be boxed into a corner, making promises he had no intention of keeping, he moved away, tugging his mother with him so that he could mingle with the guests.
But he was watching the French doors, all eight of them, which were thrown open to accommodate the easy flux of the guests as they went inside to sit, before strolling back out, drawn by the warmth and the seductive glow of the lanterns. His mind was half on the conversation he was having when they arrived. As soon as she saw the scene outside her hand flew to Michael’s arm and he clasped it with his own, a gesture of reassurance. Theo watched as she looked up at Michael and said something and his brother smiled down at her, clearly urging her not to feel intimidated.
A charming charade, he thought. Was it for the benefit of his brother or for the congregation of people, who were now glancing over with interest in their direction?
Her outfit was certainly designed to impress the guests with her innocence. The pale dress was a testament to modesty. The neckline was rounded and buttoned to the top and although it did hug her top half the bottom swung in a swirl around her to her knees. And it was pink, the lightest of pinks,