Acropolis Now E-Book

Katie MacAlister

• Herausgeber: Katie Macalister
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Sometimes, happily ever after takes its own sweet time…

When Moonbeam Swiftcloud Nakai went to England on a scholarship and fell in love with a Greek student named Neo, she never thought her life would be one of regret, lost love, and oppression. But Romeo and Juliet weren’t the only star-crossed lovers around, and Beam and Neo were separated, doomed to be forever apart.

Until the day when Beam is forced to go back to Greece to face everything she’d tried so hard to forget. When her beloved niece falls afoul of the same person who broke her heart in the past, Beam is determined to make things right. And if that includes facing down her former husband Neo, then so be it.
Neo had spent his life trying–and failing–to forget the only woman he’d ever loved, but her betrayal broke more than just his heart. So when Beam marches back into his life with a demand that he stop picking on her niece, he’s alternately overjoyed and dismayed — there’s no denying that life has thrown them together for a reason.
Only this time, he’s not sure he can survive another betrayal.

Can he salvage their relationship, or will he be doomed to repeat the same mistakes?

Leseprobe

ACROPOLIS NOW

A Billionaire Romantic Comedy

Katie MacAlister

Copyright © 2022 by Katie MacAlister

All rights reserved.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Cover by Croco Designs

Formatting by Racing Pigeon Productions

http://katiemacalister.com

I hereby dedicate the dishy guys herein to Lisa Lypowy, who came up with the title for this book in what I can only describe as a feat of brilliance. Thank you so much, Lisa!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Reader’s Note

ONE

Twenty-four years ago

“Hey, Sacajawea, you look like you’re on the warpath. What gives?”

I stopped to glare at the speaker, who was standing next to one of the residence buildings of St. Anne’s College with two other people, both of whom cast me swift glances before turning away. I was used to the British students treating me like I was a lesser species of newt infringing upon their sacred citadel of learning, but I really hated it when my own countryman treated me with the same disdain.

“Knock it off, Esker,” I told the young man, clutching my laptop case tight to my chest, hoping against hope the drowning feeling would let up and I could draw in a breath. “You know that’s politically incorrect, and ignorant to boot. Sacajawea was Shoshone, and my mother was Navajo. Besides which, calling me Sacajawea isn’t at all a slur. She was an awesome woman, brave, a gifted explorer, and possessor of the infinite patience needed to drag a couple of clueless white men from Missouri to the west coast less than two months after having given birth. So the next time you want to insult me, try using the name of some lame-ass white man whose daddy bought his way into Oxford because he didn’t have the grades to get the scholarship on his own, like the rest of us.”

“Fuck you,” Esker snapped while the two Brits laughed.

I gave him the finger as I hurried off, brushing the incident from my mind. I tried again to get some air into my lungs, but anxiety seemed to wrap around me with iron bands. I had to talk to Neo.

“Morning, Kamil,” I greeted the porter as I ran past his desk, heading toward the building where Neo roomed.

“Good morning, Beam,” the stately, gray-haired man answered as I hurried to the stairwell. “You looking for your young man? He asked me to tell you he was going to the library.”

“He is? Dammit. OK, thanks.” I spun on my heel and rushed across to the library, making a beeline for the back wall, where Neo liked to claim a long table hidden by some study carrels. Relief filled me when I saw his familiar dark head bent over his laptop, the pressure around my lungs loosening just enough for me to take a deep breath. I glanced around, but students seldom came to this side of the library, since it was made dark by several large chestnut trees nestled up against the side of the building. “Thank the goddess I found you.”

“I told Kamil where I was,” he answered without looking up. “How did you do on Tormesson’s group project?”

“Fine,” I said, dumping my case on the table next to him before pulling a hard wooden chair up beside him. “But it doesn’t matter. Not now.”

I hated the throb in my voice, hated that I was so close to tears, but ever since I’d gotten the news, my emotions felt raw and bleeding.

“Of course it matters. You may not have to break a sweat for good grades, but the rest of us have to work our asses off for first-class honors.”

“Neo.” I put my hand on his arm, swallowing down the lump of tears that made my throat ache.

He must have heard the emotion in my voice, because he looked over at me, his gray eyes normally filled with humor, but now questioning. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”

I almost broke down at the nickname he’d absurdly given me the first time we’d met, six months earlier at the international students’ orientation.

“I have to go home.”

He made a face and glared at his laptop screen. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to help untangle this mess of code, but I have to turn it in tonight, so we’ll have to call off date night until it’s done.”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t mean I need to go back to my room ... I mean that I have to go home. To New Mexico.”

He frowned, his eyes once again turned to me. “The term isn’t over until the middle of June. That’s almost two months away. Why would you want to go home now?”

I slid my hand down to his fingers, clinging to his hand and praying that I wouldn’t break down. Not in public. I couldn’t stand it if others saw me sobbing. “My cousin died this morning.”

“Oh, Beam, I’m sorry,” he said, turning in his chair so that he could pull me into a hug, his arms warm and strong around me. I leaned into his chest, my face pressed against his throat, breathing in the lemony scent of his soap. “So very sorry. You must be devastated. My poor little sunshine.”

I clung to him for a few minutes while he murmured words of support, before finally pushing myself off him to wipe angrily at my nose and eyes with a tissue. There was still no one close to us, but I didn’t need people to see me having a breakdown in public. “I think I must be in shock, because it doesn’t seem real.”

“What happened? I assume this is the cousin who took you and your sister in when your mother died?” he asked, his hand warm on my back as he drew little circles.

My shoulders slumped as I leaned into his hand, wishing I could hit a reset button and restart the day. “Two years ago, yes. I didn’t know her too well, but she was nothing but nice to us. The local police called to tell me she went into the hospital for what she thought was a chronic cough, but she had pneumonia, and after four days ...” I hiccuped back another painful lump of tears, blinking rapidly to keep them from falling. “Anyway, the police said that Autumn was being held by child welfare services, and that I had to come home to take over guardianship—otherwise she’ll be put into the foster system.”

“How old is your sister?” he asked, his eyes darkening with shared pain.

“Fifteen.” Cold crept over me, making me shiver despite the relative warmth of a sunny spring day. “I can’t let her go into the system, Neo. Not because of who our parents were, but because the system is bad. Bad for anyone.”

“And your family ... ?” He let the question hang in the air.

“There’s no one else. Calypso was our only cousin, and my grandparents died before I was born. There’s the tribal chapter, the local government, but since our father was white—a deadbeat, but white nonetheless—the local chapter doesn’t bother themselves much what happens to us. I have to go back.”

Neo was silent for a few minutes, his thumb stroking over the back of my hand. “Yes, I can see that you do. You can’t leave your sister to fend for herself. Have you spoken to Gargle?”

“No,” I said, not even smiling at the popular student nickname for the academic advisor who monitored my time at Oxford. “But I know what she’s going to say—going back home will forfeit the Whaddon Scholarship. I’ll be kicked out. I might even have to pay back the money from the scholarship that’s already been spent on me. Oh god, I don’t want to go home! You don’t know what it’s like

there ...” The words dried up as the reality of life in New Mexico came all too readily to my mind. My mother had raised us to be proud of our heritage, mixed as it was, but that didn’t stop the fact that there were few opportunities available to poor girls with no family support.

“You can bring your sister here,” Neo said suddenly, his eyes narrowed on nothing in particular as he obviously tried to find a solution to my problem. “You’ll have to move to a flat in town so she can stay with you, but I’m sure that can be arranged. Just tell Gargle you have to go home for the funeral and to get your sister, and I’m sure she’ll excuse you for a week or so.”

I was shaking my head even before he finished speaking. “Even if I could do that, how am I going to afford to support Autumn? The Whaddon people don’t give you much wiggle room when it comes to money.”

“If she lived with you, in your room, that wouldn’t be any more expensive than now,” he protested.

I gave him a watery smile. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d point out just how out of touch you are with what it’s like to be poor. Living situation aside, I’d still have to feed her. And clothe her. And get her to a school, and I’m not even sure I could get a visa for her to be here long enough to go to school. And, oh, a hundred other things. I’d have to get a job, and my visa prohibits that.”

“Well ...” His jaw flexed a couple of times. “What if you said to hell with the Whaddon Scholarship? No, hear me out. If that’s what’s giving you grief, then you can simply go home to fetch your sister, come back, and finish your degree without them.”

“Paying for Oxford how?” I asked, feeling like I was slowly sliding down into a pit of mud. Life-sucking mud.

“You could work under the table,” he suggested.

“I could,” I said slowly, aware the lung vises were tightening. “But it wouldn’t pay much. And it doesn’t explain how I’m going to pay for airfare to and from England, not to mention dealing with my cousin’s hospital bills. No, don’t offer me money. I won’t take it. I know your mother gives you lots of money to spend, but I have my pride, and I’m not going to leech off you like so many others have.”

“I wouldn’t consider a loan leeching, but yes, I know full well you won’t let me help you out despite me being happy to do so.” His beautiful gray eyes were grave as he lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingers. “Given your pesky pride—”

I pulled my hand away, frowning. “Hey! Some of us cling to our pride because we’ve been harassed our whole lives, and it’s pretty much all we have left.”

He reclaimed my hand, and pressed a loud smack to it before pushing back the chair, and kneeling next to me. “There’s only one solution, then. Marry me.”

I stared at him, wondering if the shock of the news had finally turned my brain into mush. “What?”

“You’ll have to marry me,” he said. “That’s the only solution. If you marry me, you can stay in England, finish up your degree, and we’ll be able to take care of your sister.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, trying to pull my hand back.

“Why am I ridiculous?” A little flash of pain in his eyes had me sliding off the chair until I was kneeling in front of him.

“You aren’t.” I leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, his delicious, wonderful lips. “You are fabulous. Marvelous. Sexy and smart and funny. I’ve loved you from the first time I saw you, looking as lost and alone as I felt at the new-student orientation. But your idea is crazy. For one thing, you’re Greek, not British.”

“I’m both. My mother was born in Edinburgh, so I have UK citizenship as well as Greek.”

“That’s very cool, but still, the whole thing is unthinkable,” I said.

“Why? Why don’t you want to marry me?” he asked, pulling me onto his lap.

“I never said I didn’t want to marry you,” I answered, breathing in again the wonderful scent that clung to him. “I’m head over toes in love with you. But because I love you so much, I’m not going to marry you until the time is right.”

His black brows pulled together, giving me the irresistible urge to smooth out the little wrinkle between them. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does—you’re just letting your heart dictate to your brain.” I gave him a sad smile, one that I hoped expressed just how much I regretted the situation I was in. “Maybe if we were at the end of the degree rather than having just started it ... but it doesn’t matter. I have to go home. You will stay here. Maybe after you graduate, you can look me up, and—”

“To hell with that,” he said, his mouth closing on mine, his tongue doing a little dance in my mouth that made me melt against him. By the time he pulled away, my head was spinning, my lips felt bruised, and the band around my lungs had tightened to the point where it hurt to breathe. “You love me. I love you. We’re going to be married someday, so we’ll just do it now. No, don’t bother arguing, Beam. You are more important than any degree. We’ll get married. You can bring your sister here. We’ll get a flat, and live together, and you can get back into the program without the Whaddon people breathing down your back. We’ll live happily ever after, dammit.”

I couldn’t help it—he looked so indignant, I laughed. “You’re the only man I know who can look simultaneously pissed and romantic while proposing.” A thought occurred to me, even as I considered what he had offered. “But ... what about your parents?”

His gaze flickered away, but not before I saw a flash of doubt in his eyes. “What will they think of us getting married? They’ll love you. You’re entirely adorable.”

I allowed myself to cherish the glow of his praise for a few seconds. “You may think so, but I’m not so sure that they’ll be thrilled at the news that their only son and heir has married a woman with no money, no family, and no prospects.”

“One ten times smarter than me, who has managed to gain a prestigious Whaddon Scholarship, and is a borderline mathematical genius with an analytical mind that can untangle even the most obtuse code. No, sunshine, don’t protest.” He gave me another kiss, this one swift and fast before he shifted me off his legs so he could stand. “This is the only thing that makes sense. We’ll get married, you’ll go back to the States to get your sister, and while you’re gone, I’ll find us a place to live. It’s going to be simple, just you wait and see.”

I looked up the long length of his body, my heart feeling like it was made up of butterflies fluttering in my chest. For the first time since I’d heard of my cousin’s death, I took a long, shaky breath, finally filling my lungs. “Are you sure?” I asked him, something in the back of my mind warning that this was not the solution that I needed.

“Of course.” He smiled as he held out his hand to help me up, brushing back a strand of hair that had clung to my mouth. “Everything will work out, I promise.”

Misgiving slowly filled my stomach, but I pushed it aside, desperate to find a way to have my cake and eat it, too.

You know that never works out, a pessimistic voice in my head pointed out. I ignored it, just as I ignored the other doubts that gathered around me like personal storm clouds.

Neo was right—everything would work out. Maybe his parents wouldn’t be thrilled with me, but I trusted his knowledge of his family. We’d be happy, Autumn would be safe, and our lives would be filled with happiness and love.

Anything else would be a crime.

TWO

Five days later

“OK, that was awkward.”

“Getting married at the registry office?” Neo hauled my overnight bag up the last of the stairs to the floor where his room was located. “I thought you wanted that. If you had said you wanted a proper wedding—”

“No, I’m perfectly happy with getting married in town. I meant telling Kamil that we got married.”

Neo waggled his eyebrows at me. “It wasn’t awkward. It was romantic. He wished us well.”

“Mm-hmm. But I bet you he thinks it’s odd that we got married.”

“It doesn’t matter what anyone but you thinks. And speaking of that, welcome home, Mrs. Papaioannou.” Neo set down the bag and carried me over the threshold of his room, pausing just inside the door with an indescribable expression on his face. “That sounds so odd. Mrs. Papaioannou is my mother.”

I slid down his chest when he let go of my legs, a shiver running down my back at his words. “That’s just creepy, Neo. I’m so not your mom.”

He smiled, and my insides melted, both at the wattage of his smile and at the steamy glint visible in his gray eyes. “I agree, you aren’t. How about this, then ... welcome home, Mrs. Moonbeam Swiftcloud Papaioannou née Nakai?”

“Goddess, that’s worse,” I said, giving in and kissing the tip of his nose before plopping my overnight bag onto his desk. His room was a chaotic mess of clothes, books, laptops, three electric guitars, and assorted other electronics beloved by young men of eighteen with a hefty disposable income. “I really wish Mom hadn’t been so firmly entrenched in the hippie movement when I was born. I like the native names in her family, but nooo, she had to name me Moonbeam.”

“I like Moonbeam,” he said, his hands on my waist as he pulled me close while moving his hips suggestively against me. “I like that it’s not traditional. It fits you.”

“You call me sunshine,” I pointed out, various and sundry body parts immediately interested in what he had planned. My nipples became highly sensitized strumpets, demanding freedom from my bra, while my belly was suddenly filled with little butterflies that made me feel incredibly feminine.

“That’s because you bring light to my life,” he said, kissing my neck in a way that had my knees turning to mush.

I slid my hands up his chest as he moved us in a slow, intimate dance to music only he could hear. “And what about you? You have a pretty unique name, too. Do you like it?”

He grimaced. “I don’t really think much about it. It might be different in England, but Neo is hardly a nontraditional name in Greece.”

“I like it nonetheless. It’s better than being named after an intangible object.”

“What I like is you. Let’s have our wedding night!”

I glanced out the window, laughing as he shuffled us over toward where his bed sat dominating most of the room. Neo had redecorated the room with some of his own furniture, something that was not standard policy at Oxford, but I gathered that the more upper-crust you were, the more the officials were willing to look the other way. “We can’t have a wedding night, Mr. Papaioannou. It’s only two in the afternoon!”

“I believe we can, my sweet, sexy sunshine.” He toppled me onto the bed, following me down, his hands seemingly everywhere at once. We were both suddenly desperate as our garments went flying, each trying to help the other, ending with us in a naked, needy tangle on the bed.

I pushed Neo onto his back when he tried to do the same to me. Although we’d been lovers for only four months, I knew that he loved being on top. “Oh no, I’m a bride, and I get to say who goes where. You get to be my bucking bronco.”

“Oooh,” he said, his hands going straight for my breasts, which was exactly the plan. “You’re going to be aggressive?”

“I’m a married woman,” I said with a toss of my hair, but that was quickly followed by a moan when Neo pulled me down to take one nipple gently in his teeth. “Married women ... hoo ... married women ... no, do the other one. It’s hurt that you don’t love it as much. Married women are bossy that way,” I said, a little breathlessly.

He paid due attention to my lonely breast, making me squirm as I straddled his thighs. “I like you bossy. You may boss me anytime. Would you like to impale yourself on me now? Because if you don’t, I might end up disappointing you.”

“You could never do that,” I said, leaning down to kiss him, his mouth infinitely sweet and hot and everything that I wanted a mouth to be.

His hands slid down my belly, and his fingers curled into me in a way that had me rising up on my knees as I stared down at him. His eyes were filled with dark intentions. Sexy dark intentions, ones that warmed me to my toenails.

“Like that, did you?” he asked, and for a moment, I was so overwhelmed with love for him that the world seemed to stop spinning. Everything froze, and in the space of time between heartbeats, I knew that my life would never be the same.

I saw stars, rocking my hips against his dancing fingers. “Oh, goddess, yes. Let’s wedding night, Neo. Let’s wedding night like no one has ever wedding nighted.”

He laughed, shifting me so that his penis rubbed against flesh so sensitive that just the feeling of him, warm and smooth and velvety hard, made a ripple of excitement spread from my belly outward. “I fully intend to make you the most wedding-nighted wife in existence. Are you ready?”

“I was ready months ago. Years. Centuries. Eons,” I said, stroking my hands down his chest. He had lovely bands of muscles on his belly, not quite a six-pack, but not far off it, either. “I love your chest hair.”

He paused in the act of positioning himself at my party zone, blinking a couple of times. “I’m glad. I like your chest minus hair, too.”

“I mean that I like your particular hair.” I let my fingers trail through the soft hairs, enjoying the tickling sensation on my fingertips as I followed the narrowing line of hair that moved down to his belly button, a thin line proceeding southward until it led straight to his penis. “It’s so soft.”

“Beam?”

“Hmm?” I let my hands go crazy on his belly, moving over to the thick muscles of his flanks. He was slightly ticklish here, so I made sure to keep my touch firm rather than teasing.

“Is there a reason you aren’t making me your bucking bronco? Because I’m quite serious that if I’m not inside of you in the next ten seconds, it may well all be over.” His fingers were back, curling into me again, two fingers making me arch and clutch him as my sensitive inner flesh poised on the edge of an orgasm.

“I don’t ... Neo, that’s not fair ... No, don’t stop, do it again ... I don’t ... what did you say?” I was having a hard time forming words as his fingers continued to stroke me. But when he pulled his hand from between my thighs, I started to object before suddenly squawking as he managed some sort of sexual ninja move that flipped us both over, leaving me flat on my back, with Neo coming over me, pulling my legs up and around his hips.

“If you don’t want me to be the bronco, then you can be it.”

He thrust into me, not a gentle movement of a lover wooing, but a man claiming a woman. My hips rose to meet his when he thrust again and again, his mouth on first my collarbone, then my neck, then finally my mouth.

Our bodies worked together, straining for the one shining moment when we embraced the passion that had flared between us since the first time we’d met.

“Too ... hard?” he asked in panting gasps as he continued to pound into my body.

“No. Harder. I want all of you,” I said, moaning as my body welcomed the invader. I clutched his back, feeling the dampness that told me he was working hard to bring us both to pleasure, the salty taste of his skin as I bit gently on his shoulder. It was all too much, too many sensations, and I gave myself up to an orgasm that left me shaking with its intensity.

Neo was thrusting wildly now, short, hard, fast movements that rocked the bed—then for a moment he froze, his pupils huge in his eyes before he collapsed down on me, his hips making little bucking movements a couple more times before he completely relaxed.

“Jeez Louise, that was ... man, it’s never been like that before, has it?” I managed to ask, kissing his neck and wrapping my arms around him, relishing my ragged breathing almost as much as I was pleased by the fact that he was still panting, obviously trying to draw breath into his lungs. His breath was hot on my shoulder for a few minutes before he managed to roll off me.

“No. If this is what being married does to you, then I’m going to have to start going to the gym every day, because if I don’t, you’re going to kill me,” he said, still panting. He stared at the ceiling, his body splayed out on the big bed like the Greek god he was. I felt incredibly warm, safe, and happy, and curled up into his side, one hand possessively on that chest despite the fact that our lovemaking had evidently stripped me of all my bones.

“Yeah, I have a feeling I’ll be signing up for one of those Pilates classes. I need to work on my stamina,” I agreed, and wondered how life could be so wonderful.

A song burbled from his phone.

“You don’t have to work on anything,” he said, picking up the phone. “You’re perfect in every—hell and damnation.”

I propped my head up on my hand, watching a frown pull his brows down. “I hope that last wasn’t directed toward me. What is it?”

His jaw flexed twice before he said, “My mother,” just before sitting up to answer the call.

I debated staying next to him to provide support, knowing he would tell his parents that we’d been married a few hours before, but a general sticky feeling gave my dislike of confrontation the motivation to scoot out of bed with a whispered, “I’m going to get cleaned up,” before I made a dash for the en suite bathroom.

The shouting started five minutes later. I’d taken a swift shower, and was using Neo’s blow-dryer when I heard the muffled sound of his voice over the roar of air next to my head. I switched off the dryer and, wrapped in his silk bathrobe, moved over to open the bathroom door.

Neo was striding around the room buck naked, his hands gesticulating as he spoke loudly. His phone was evidently on speaker, because I could hear the high-pitched woman’s voice slicing through the air even before I had the door opened fully.

“—utterly ridiculous to think you’re old enough to make these decisions for yourself. Who is this woman? Why did you allow yourself to be coerced into marriage? Is she claiming to be pregnant? If she is, I can assure you that it’s a trap, and nothing more.”

“No one coerced me into marriage,” Neo yelled, his back to me as he now stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at the phone lying on the bed. “In fact, the situation is exactly the opposite. I had to convince Beam to marry me. She didn’t want to at first. She thought we should spend more time together before we got married, but I convinced her that she’s the woman I want.”

“An Indian?” Neo’s mother said in a voice that made my skin crawl. “Neo, my darling, I’ve heard about such people. They’re all desperate for a sugar daddy, and you—”

“Stop it!” Neo bellowed, running a hand through his hair, the long, silky lengths of it falling effortlessly back from his brow in a way that never failed to make me want to swoon. “You’re not listening to me, not to mention the fact that you’re being hateful toward Beam’s heritage. The term is Native American, and no, she’s not looking for a sugar daddy. Hell, she’s at Oxford! How do you think she got here if she was so poor?”

I was about to reach out for him, but hesitated, pulling my outstretched hand back, a little pang of pain stabbing into my belly. Neo knew full well that my mother had worked hard to provide for my sister and me, and that we didn’t have much money left over for anything extra, like higher education. If I hadn’t gotten the Whaddon Scholarship, I’d never have been able to scrape together enough to be at any good college, let alone one overseas.

“Neo.” A masculine voice spoke now, obviously his father, because the man rattled off several things in Greek that I didn’t understand.

“I don’t care,” Neo said, and even from where I stood behind him, I could tell his jaw was set. “She’s not at all like that. We’ve known each other for six months. It’s not like Beam is a stranger.”

I stared at the back of him, my gaze moving from the back of his head, with his beautiful, silky black hair, down to broad shoulders that never failed to make me feel feminine despite my almost six-foot, solid self. The way his back tapered down to his waist made my breath hitch, and his butt, the flesh pale compared with his legs and back, always made my hands tingle with a need to touch the swooping sides of the gently curved cheeks.

“Darling, about this, you have to grant that your father and I have more experience,” his mother said in a cooing voice. “You are so young. Think of all the girls who’ve thrown themselves at you the last few years. We were right about them, were we not? You must trust that we have your best interests at heart when we tell you that marriage now, away from our protection, is not the action of the mature man you say you are.”

Neo took a deep breath. “I told you when I came to England that I would not submit romantic partners for your approval. I won’t let you destroy this relationship. You drove away every other girl who showed an interest in me, and they weren’t even remotely as precious to me as Beam is. We’re married. We’re of age. Get used to the idea.”

“Do you think we’re going to allow you to waste your life on a little whore who managed to get her clutches into you?” his mother almost screamed in a shrill voice that sliced through me with the accuracy of a razor.

Neo must have heard me wrapping my arms around myself in protection from the attack, because he turned to face me, holding out a hand for me. “I’ve had enough of this. Beam hasn’t done anything to deserve your contempt, and I won’t let you treat her like this. I’ll call you later, when you’ve calmed down.”

I took his hand, my belly feeling as if it were filled with lead. Cold, clammy lead.

Neo stabbed at his phone, ending the call, before pulling me into his arms, holding me tight against his magnificent chest. “Beam, I forbid you to be upset.”

“You forbid me?” I said, giving a shaky laugh against him despite my eyes stinging with tears. “Now who’s bossy?”

He squeezed me tight, then pushed me back enough to give me a loud kiss. “We’ll take turns being bossy, OK? Love, don’t cry. My parents can be overly protective, and that comes out wrong sometimes. Don’t let their comments hurt your feelings. Our news took them by surprise, but they’ll come around, you’ll see. They can’t help but love you as much as I do.”

I wanted badly to tell him that the fury I heard in his mother’s voice didn’t sound like she would easily accept me as a daughter-in-law, but I really didn’t want to face more strife. I had enough right now, coping with everything that had happened in the last week. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me?” I asked instead, wishing I could beg him to come with me, but knowing that he had to stay to take exams the following week. We’d agreed that he would stay at Oxford, and when I returned with Autumn in a week or two, I’d reapply for entrance to St. Anne’s.

“I wish I could, sunshine,” he said, brushing away a tear that had leaked from my eye. “But it’ll be better this way, so long as you can cope with your sister. It’ll be one less thing my parents can hold against us.”

The rest of the evening was spent gathering up my things, explaining to my advisor why I was going home right at the critical part of the term, and reassuring her that I wasn’t going to let the subsequent loss of my scholarship mean I wouldn’t return to finish my degree.

My internal voice yakked at me the whole way home, but I did my best to ignore it. I didn’t need any more negativity in my life. Now was my time for happiness.

My stomach quivered in a way that was pure warning of Things to Come.

Sixteen days later

“Do I have to stay here by myself? Can’t I come with you?” Autumn’s expression was apprehensive as she glanced around the lobby. “These people are so ... fancy.”

I knew just what she meant. “Fancy” was my mother’s code word for the affluent tourists who came around Santa Fe and Albuquerque. The people who sauntered into the apartment building where I’d come in desperation for some answers was, indeed, filled with the upper class of Athens.

“Think of this as a good opportunity to write stories about all the people you see here,” I told my little sister, well aware that I was playing on her interest of being a writer to keep her out of my hair for a few minutes. “I won’t be gone long. Pick the ten most interesting people you see, and by the time you’ve decided what their backstories are, I’ll be back.”

“Promise?” she asked, taking one of the leather and chrome seats that dotted the lobby, shooting another glance over at the curved, highly polished desk where the building staff stood in a group of three, watching us.

“Cross my heart,” I said, giving her a smile filled with confidence I didn’t feel, before turning and striding to the elevator bank, nodding at the concierge cluster. One of them detached, a young woman who could easily have been a model, following me into the elevator, using a security card to send the elevator up to the penthouse.

“Of course Neo lives in a penthouse,” I said under my breath, my palms so sweaty that I had to keep wiping them on the gauze skirt of the nicest dress I owned.

“Pardon?” the woman who had accompanied me asked. Her expression was one of mild disbelief, like she couldn’t fathom why Neo’s illustrious family had told her to let me go up to their apartment.

“Nothing. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t met my ... Neo’s family before. You know how it is when you meet a boyfriend’s parents ... husband’s parents.”

She looked even more disbelieving at the word “husband,” but evidently had been trained to keep from voicing the sentiments obvious by her expression.

We rode the rest of the way up in silence. Once again, I seemed to be unable to take a deep breath, but this time it wasn’t anxiety that was bound around me but fear. And pain. And anger.

I tried hard to push down everything but the anger.

The door pinged open, displaying a cream-colored rug and a cream sofa set against a freestanding wall bedecked with a floor-to-ceiling abstract mural in greens, blues, and grays.

I stared at it, wondering what was behind the wall, my stomach turning over in a way that warned nausea would be the next step. My fingernails bit into my palms as I tried to calm my madly beating heart.

“Madam?” the apartment woman said, giving me a hard look. “I must take the elevator down.”

“OK,” I said, but it took another half minute before I could move off the elevator, my skirt fluttering slightly at the whoosh of the door as it closed. I stood silent for a few seconds, unsure of what I was supposed to do. Neo and his family had to know I was here, since the people at the desk had to call up for permission, and yet, no one was here to greet me. Was I just supposed to go around the wall and wander through their penthouse?

My stomach lurched. I took a couple of steps forward, and called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

A rustle followed by the click of high heels on polished floor had me straightening my shoulders, and forcing a smile onto my stiff lips.

“So, you are here.” The woman who strode toward me wasn’t at all what I expected. Judging by the fight Neo had had with his mother more than two weeks before, I expected Mrs. Papaioannou to be a dragon lady, all pointed scarlet nails, narrow, hard lines, and gritty eyes. The woman who marched toward me was tall and elegant, with long blond hair expertly tinted and highlighted, in an equally elegant sheath dress of deep amethyst.

Her gray eyes were as cold as granite, however.

“I am, yes. I’d like to see Neo, if possible,” I said politely, trying very hard not to melt into a puddle before such a daunting woman.

She gave a sniff, an actual sniff, before answering. “It is not possible. Neo wants nothing to do with you. In fact, he forbade me to allow you to come up here, but I told him that I wished to meet you for myself. I wanted to see the truth of what he said.”

“What ... what did he say?” I asked, clearing my throat when my voice cracked.

“Camilla? Where have you gone? The documents arrived on that woman who tried to steal from Neo—” A man rounded the corner, pausing when he saw me, but I had a feeling by the polished expression of surprise, and the dramatic pose he struck, that he’d known full well I was there. He looked like a vaguely blurry version of Neo, his dark hair curly rather than straight, and shot through with gray. “Who is this?”

“This is the American,” Neo’s mother said, one arm across her waist so she could rest the opposite elbow on the back of her hand, tapping one exquisitely manicured finger on her lips.

Neo’s father, whose name I remembered was Aris, took a step backward, as if in horror of my presence. “No! She dares to come here, into our home?”

“I didn’t steal anything from Neo,” I said, wanting to simultaneously vomit and cry. “We got married is all. I’m sorry that you don’t like that fact, but it was perfectly legal, because we looked up the requirements to get married in England. Is Neo here? I really need to see him. I need to know why ...” I stopped, unable to go on before these two polished, urbane people who were regarding me as if I were a bit of dog poop on their shoes.

“The marriage could not possibly be legal,” Aris said, shaking a sheaf of papers at me. “Neo did not have our permission to marry.”

“He’s eighteen,” I argued, still fighting the urge to burst into tears. Of all things, verbally sparring with his parents was the last thing I had thought I’d be doing in Athens. “That’s legal in England.”

“Regardless, we won’t tolerate this attempt to get your dirty little claws into his fortune,” Camilla Papaioannou said, brushing past me to straighten up a flower in a vase that sat on the table to the left of the sofa. “The marriage will be annulled.”

“What?” I stared from her to Aris, panic welling up inside of me. “I don’t want an annulment.”

“We’re quite aware of what you want,” Aris said, jerking some papers from the folder and shoving them at me. “You may think you can get away with whatever scam you are pulling, but luckily, Neo has parents who watch out for him.”

“I’m not trying to scam anyone,” I protested, glancing down at the papers in my hands. To my horror, they were reports clearly drawn up by a lawyer’s office, reports that were splashed with my pictures. “PROSTITUTION CHARGES” headed up one report. My mouth went dry as I shuffled through the papers, confusion, mortification, and horror mingling in a cocktail of hellish nightmare. “MISDEMEANOR THEFT CHARGES” headed up a second sheet, while a third blared out “ILLEGAL SUBSTANCES CHARGES.” “What is this? These have my picture on them, but I’ve never done anything like this.”

“And yet, our lawyer had no trouble finding out the truth about you,” Aris said, taking the papers from my numb fingers. “Neo was most interested to learn about the woman who had coerced him into an illegal marriage. Very interested. And disgusted, naturally, but his mother and I put that down to the skillful way you trapped him.”

The world was whirling around me. I held out a hand, feeling as if I was going to fall, but after a few seconds, the black spots in front of my eyes faded. I looked over to Neo’s mother. “It’s all lies. I have never been in any trouble. I’m not a prostitute, or a thief, and I don’t take drugs. I don’t know why you have papers that say I’m the worst sort of person, but it’s not true. If I could just see Neo—”

“I’ve told her he doesn’t want to see her,” Camilla said, strolling past me to stand beside her husband. “I told her that the very idea of her disgusted him.”

“And yet, here she stands. Well, we might as well take advantage of the moment, unwelcome as it is.” Aris pulled out a stapled stack of papers from the folder and handed it to me. “If you have any decency in you, you’ll sign the annulment papers now. If not, we’ll be forced to press charges against you for fraud, and you’ll end up in prison.”

“Prison?” I said on a gasp, trying to make sense of the madness into which I’d stepped. “For what? Marrying Neo?”

“For attempting to defraud him,” Aris snapped.

“You have a sibling, do you not?” Camilla asked. “No doubt she has a hand in this whole sordid affair, but if you want to keep her out of trouble, then you’ll do what’s right and sign.”

I looked down at the papers, wondering what had happened during the time I’d gone back to get Autumn. Clearly, someone had manufactured a false past about me, one sordid enough that it would change Neo from the loving, laughing man I’d left two weeks ago to one that now refused to see me. “I—I want to talk to Neo,” I repeated.

“That will not be happening,” Aris answered, his words clipped and as frosty as an iceberg. “Sign the papers now, before we have to take legal action against you. Go back to the hole you crawled out of. We don’t care what you do, so long as it’s away from our son.”

“Go back?” I asked, my brain feeling as if it were swimming in molasses. I seemed to be having a hard time making it work, to think, to figure out what was happening. “I can’t. I spent the last of the money to get here. If I could just talk to Neo, explain to him that none of this is true, if I could understand why he left England, then we can put all this annulment business behind us.”

“Sign it,” Aris snapped. “I promise you that you’ll be very sorry if you don’t.”

I swallowed back a lump of fear that rose at his not-so-veiled threat. “My mother told me never to sign anything without reading it thoroughly.”