The Santorini Bride. Anne McAllister
girl—Cassandra—said your mother sent them. She said she was an old friend.” And from the look of things they could both be a good deal more as well. Did Theo Savas take lovers two at a time?
“To you they were strangers,” Theo bit out. “And they should have stayed that way. You know damn well I don’t want anyone here! I told you—”
“I know what you told me,” Martha said sharply. “But these weren’t groupies. They’re friends of your mother! If you don’t want them here, fine. Throw them out. Who cares? Just go out there and tell them to leave.”
Theo ground his teeth. “I can’t. And you know it.”
Martha raised her brows. “I do? Why?”
“Because you have a Greek mother, too. One that you don’t want to know you’re here. Am I right?” He gave her a knowing look.
Martha shrugged irritably. “That’s not the same.”
“It is the same. They meddle, mothers do. They think they know what’s best.” He cracked his knuckles and paced around the room.
Martha watched him curiously. “So…what’s best for you, according to your mother?” she asked at last.
He cracked his knuckles again. “A wife,” he muttered at last.
Martha grinned.
“It’s not funny.”
She wiped a hand over her mouth, taking the smile with it. “Of course not,” she intoned solemnly. But a corner of her mouth twitched anyway at the thought of Theo running scared of his mother’s machinations.
“She thinks it will get the groupies off my back if she provides me with other choices.” He scowled. “She’s wrong. Especially she’s wrong about that one.”
“Which one?” Martha didn’t think he’d looked particularly happy to see either of them.
“Agnetta.” Theo fairly spat the name.
“Ah.” Yes, there had been a bit of animosity on his part when he’d spied her, and Agnetta had definitely been the one who’d been startled to see her here. She’d demanded to know who Martha was the minute she’d opened the door to the pair of them.
“I take it you two have a history,” Martha said mildly now.
Not that she wanted to know it. But it was obvious from the unfinished sentences that Agnetta had left dangling, and the suspicious way she’d studied Martha ever since she’d arrived. Contrarily Martha had done no more than tell them her name. But while Cassandra had been eager and open, Agnetta had been more wary. She’d also dropped the words dear Theo into the conversation at least half a dozen times.
Martha couldn’t imagine anyone called Theo “dear” to his face. Not even his mother.
Now dear Theo ground his teeth. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his canvas shorts. “It wasn’t a…history. It was brief. And it’s over.”
“Not to her apparently.” Martha stated the obvious.
Theo slammed his hand against the wall. “You could have said I wasn’t coming back.”
“Well, you were. You told me you were. How did I know what you wanted me to do?”
“You knew I didn’t want anyone here!”
“Yep, I knew that. And you were such a jerk to me, I thought it would serve you right.” Martha gave him a cheerful grin.
He jammed his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Thanks.” His tone was bitter. “Damn it,” he muttered and hunched his shoulders, then straightened and raked both hands through his salt-stiffened hair.
He was a gorgeous specimen of manhood, Martha thought, still remembering—albeit reluctantly—what it had felt like to have his lips on hers. No wet soppy kisses from Theo Savas.
Not like the ones she’d had from Julian, that was for sure.
Men like Theo ought to be locked away where they couldn’t have an adverse effect on women. It was obvious he’d had one on Agnetta, if she’d come all the way to Greece just to get a second chance at him.
And why? A woman as beautiful as Agnetta could have any man in the world. But she was apparently determined to have Theo.
He paced like a jungle cat trapped in a cage, then reached the end of the room, spun around and demanded, “How long are they here for?”
“What do you mean? Here on Santorini?”
“No. In the living room,” he said sarcastically. “Of course on Santorini. Don’t be an idiot!”
Martha shook her head. “A week, I think. Cassandra said they’re having a week’s holiday before they had to be in Marseilles for a shoot. Apparently she called home, and your mother was visiting hers, and when she heard that Agnetta and Cassandra were in the Adriatic, she had this brilliant idea they should come visit you and—”
“I get the picture,” Theo said grimly. He paced some more, considered some more, and finally nodded. “Okay. A week. They can stay a week. You’re staying, too.”
“Me?” Martha stared at him. “But you said—”
“You wanted to stay. You said so. ‘Big enough for both of us,’ you said.” He quoted her words back at her. “You made a big issue out of it.”
“Well, yes, then, but—”
“No buts. They can stay for a week, as long as you do. Acting as my girlfriend.”
“What!”
“You heard me. They won’t be able to pester me if I’ve already got a woman in residence.”
“I’m not—”
“And when you go, they go.”
Martha glared at him. “You’re trying to make me the bad guy.”
Theo shrugged unrepentantly. “Up to you.”
“But I’m going to be here three weeks. That’s what my plane reservation is for!”
“Then you can take this week to find another place to stay. No problem.”
Not to him, maybe. In fact Theo looked disgustingly pleased with himself.
Martha glared. “Why?” she asked him at last. “Why should I?”
He shrugged. “Because you need a place to stay? You’re broke and desperate?” He gave her a mocking smile.
It was altogether too close to the truth. But that didn’t make her want to do it. She stalled. “Tell me more about this ‘history’ you have with Agnetta.”
Theo didn’t look as if he were going to, but when Martha just stared at him wordlessly, he finally muttered, “I just don’t want her thinking she’s going to worm her way back into my life.”
“So she was in your life?”
“I went out with her a few times.” His tone was dismissive, but definitely edgy.
“‘Out with?’” Martha raised her brows. “Just casual dates? Home by eleven? That sort of thing?” she queried with false innocence.
“Slept with,” Theo snarled. “But that’s it. Nothing else.”
“What else could there be?”
“I mean, no strings! It wasn’t a ‘relationship.’ We weren’t a couple. I don’t do relationships. It was a good time, that’s all. And I made that clear.”
“How very charming of you.”
“Look, I never claimed to be in love with her. I met her at a sailing race. She was a model on a photo