Chapter Two
Gemma slept very little that night. She tossed and turned, tried to consider all the ramifications of marrying her boss compared to those of not marrying him. It was a futile endeavor. She couldn’t keep a coherent thought straight for more than ten seconds. Her thoughts spun.
She had been determined to move for weeks, ever since she had finally admitted to herself that James would do nothing to help her. She’d started packing, had lined up a moving company, told her roommate she’d be gone by the end of the month.
Now she was supposed to consider an alternative.
She tried to envision life as the wife of Nikos Petropoulos, but simply couldn’t. She didn’t have the background or training to move in his exalted circles. Couldn’t imagine living with him away from the office. Exchanging personal information.
Yet the thought was tantalizing. He’d fascinated her for years.
She wouldn’t expect Nikos to take on the role of doting father. But his willingness to let others believe the child was his touched her.
She wouldn’t mind the rest—later. Divorced mothers were everywhere. When it came time, she could manage that. At least she thought she could.
And there was always California.
But was she being fair to Nikos? She’d reap far more from this temporary marriage than he would. He could put up with the inconvenience of waiting a few weeks while a new visa was being processed. Did he have to marry? Weren’t there other better alternatives for him?
Finally, giving in to her restlessness, she rose and took a long shower. Dressed in faded jeans and a snug top, she brushed her hair until it shone, then pulled it back into her normally neat ponytail. Dressed for a day at home, she headed for the kitchen.
Though she longed for coffee, Gemma dutifully drank herbal tea instead. She could no longer consider only her own wants and needs. She had to ensure she properly took care of the baby. Preparing a couple of slices of toast, she loaded on the strawberry jam and sat down.
Drawing a pad from the counter, she sketched a chart and listed the pros and cons of Nikos' unexpected proposal.
But concentration continued to prove impossible. All she could think of was his dark gaze. The shimmering feeling of anticipation that seeped into her every cell when he turned those dark eyes on her.
She attempted to picture him sitting opposite her at the breakfast table.
Impossible.
She closed her eyes and tried to envision herself in the social whirl. He attended opening nights and special showings at the museum and art galleries. His cadre of friends included the heads of many major companies and some English aristocracy. What would she talk about to people like that? She was terrible at small talk. Business discussions, okay, or even girlish confidences she could handle—but nothing suitable for the circles Nikos moved in.
Shaking her head, she finished her meager breakfast and wandered into the living room. Her roommate was away this weekend. Susan was trying so hard to be supportive, but she really hadn’t come up with a sound plan to convince Gemma to stay. What would she say to Nikos' bizarre proposal?
She’d still be moving from the apartment. Her heart skipped a beat when she wondered what his home looked like. Then a kaleidoscope of images flashed through her mind’s eye, ending up with him drawing her into his arms and kissing her.
Oh my goodness , she thought, what will I do if he kisses me?
Which he probably would at the wedding ceremony, at least. Wasn’t that part of the ritual?
Flushing, Gemma wondered why she fixated on a kiss. There were a million other things to think about.
She checked the clock. It wasn’t even eight. Pacing the small room, she tried to make sense of her tumbled thoughts. She couldn’t. Maybe she’d go talk to the man. Get everything straight, understand exactly what their marriage would entail. Then maybe she could make the right decision.
That decided she wasted no time. If he wasn’t at the office yet, she knew he’d be there before long. But when she signed in, she saw Nikos' name boldly written two lines above. He was already here.
Swallowing her trepidation, she turned to the elevators. Only on the ride up did she realize she was wearing jeans that had seen better days, scuffed running shoes, and a top that had been designed more for comfort than style.
“Just shows I’m not thinking straight,” she murmured in the empty car.
When it opened on her floor, she hesitated. Maybe she should return home and think this through a bit more.
And change her clothes.
She ignored that thought, then stepped out and quickly made her way to her office. If she went home, she might lose her courage. Dropping her purse on her desk, she didn’t pause but continued to Nikos' door. It stood ajar. No need to shut it for privacy when he was the only one here.
“Nikos?” she said.
He looked up, laid his pen down and let his gaze travel from her face, slowly down her body and back up again. Gemma almost squirmed when he seemed to linger on her breasts and the snug fit of her top. She definitely should have changed.
“I didn’t expect to see you today. Come in.”
He rose politely.
For a moment Gemma hesitated. His proposal still echoed. For once she didn’t see him as her boss—but as the man she might marry. He’d be her husband.
Stepping into his office, Gemma felt decidedly under dressed compared with his dark slacks and dress shirt. Granted, he didn’t wear a tie, had his collar buttons undone, and rolled up his sleeves, but still, didn’t the man ever relax and dress casually?
She cleared her throat nervously and tried to smile, then gave up. Crossing swiftly to the visitor’s chair, she dropped into it and stared at him.
“I’ve given your suggestion some thought,” she began, wishing she could clear the sense of desperation that gripped her.
He nodded and sat, his eyes focused on her. “And?”
“I would like some more information. I think we need to discuss this further.”
“Information such as?”
“How you expect such an alliance to work,” she blurted out.
So much for the carefully rehearsed speech she’d practiced in the cab.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I expect we’ll get along fine. We have for five years.”
“I meant, precisely how do you see this working? Would I keep my apartment? Visit your place when you wanted to hold a party or something? Move in with you right away?”
Share a bed? That she couldn’t voice, not yet.
He shook his head.
“Our arrangement must appear to be a normal marriage in every regard, Gemma. We have to convince your government that this is real. The Immigration and Naturalization Service’ll interview and question us. INS will want to inspect our living arrangements. You’ll have to give up your place and move into mine. If you don’t like my apartment, we can look for something together that would suit us both. It’s imperative that we convince Immigration that this is a true and lasting marriage. I understand they frown on foreign nationals making marriages just for the sake of remaining in the United States.”
“Which this would be.”
“As long as we give the appearance of a normal marriage, I doubt there will be any challenges. In fact, your pregnancy could work strongly in my favor. No one would question a hurry-up wedding if the bride is already pregnant.”
She nodded—especially if they didn’t bother to name the real father. She kept her personal life private. She cleared her throat, wishing she had typed up a list of questions. Her mind spun, but no coherent thoughts seemed to come through. At last she spoke.
“You said a normal marriage. Normal, how? Like cooking and cleaning the apartment and shopping?”
Like sleeping together, kissing, making love?
She longed to ask about every aspect, but shyness kept her tongue silent. She wasn’t looking for normal in any sense. Her lesson had been hard-learned, but permanent.
“I don’t need a cook or maid. I have a man now who looks after the apartment. I see no reason Hal wouldn’t continue his duties just because you’ll be living there.”
She nodded. What else was there?
“I have some furniture that belonged to my parents,” she said. “I’d like to bring that.”
“Of course. It will be your home, so do with it what you will.”
“And I have lots of friends. I don’t want to change that because of a new husband.”
Although, until yesterday, she had planned to cease her friendships except for a few very close ones. She hated the thought of everyone knowing the circumstances of her baby.
“I wouldn’t expect you to change your life drastically. My home would become your home. You’d be free to invite whomever you wished to visit us.”
“I’m not good at social chitchat,” she said, her mind still spinning.
He countered her every worry. Was she seriously considering the proposal?
A hint of amusement crept into Nikos' eyes.
“Neither am I, truth be told. I much prefer the working environment. But duty necessitates social obligations. Especially when dealing with business rivals, clients and vendors. It makes the entire process run more smoothly. You’ll do fine, Gemma. You’re polished and sophisticated….”
His voice trailed off as he glanced at her worn jeans.
She grimaced. “Fooled you, Nikos. This is me when I’m not working. I’m not into fancy dresses and lots of jewelry. I prefer jeans and comfortable tops. I’m not all that sophisticated or polished even after five years in New York. I clean up good. But my jeans are already getting tight. And in another few months, I’ll be pretty big.”
And on her best days, she never looked like a supermodel.
“I like what you’re wearing,” he said.
“You do?”
He astonished her.
“You hide your body in the business suits you normally wear. Now its shape’s revealed. And a very nice sexy body it is, too. Very appealing.”
She froze. The last thing she wished was to appear appealing. She wanted no attraction between them. This proposed marriage was for expediency only—nothing more. Color flushed her cheeks, and Gemma dropped her gaze to the polished surface of his desk. Tingling sensations skipped along her nerves. He’d never given a hint he’d noticed her as a woman. She was his personal assistant—being married wouldn’t change that.
“You’re a lovely woman, Gemma. I believe that we’ll suit each other well or I would not have made the offer. Pregnant women usually seem quite beautiful. And we can afford to get the latest in haute couture for any stage of pregnancy. Have I answered your concerns? Is there anything else?”
“Sex,” she blurted out before she could think.
“Ah. For or against?”
He didn’t seem the least bit perturbed.
She glared at him. How dare he be so casual? Was he teasing?
Blood thundered through her veins again, heating her body. Making love with Nikos? Casual sex was never her thing. She’d thought herself in love with James—only to discover how false that proved. She could never sleep with a man who viewed her as part of a business deal. Did Nikos wish to make this temporary marriage normal in every respect?
She needed to know before making a final decision.
Definite amusement lurked in his eyes, which surprised her. She hadn’t expected that. Gemma wished she could come up with a scathing putdown that would erase that mocking glint and restore her to an equal footing. But she could only feel the tumultuous emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
“Perhaps that is a topic we could discuss at some length later,” he said smoothly when she didn’t answer.
“I would keep my job?” she asked, glad to change the subject.
“Of course. You’re the best personal assistant I’ve ever had. As I told you, one reason I proposed this plan was to keep from losing you.”
“Okay, then, I guess I’ll marry you.”
Nikos actually laughed.
“You’re good for keeping a man’s ego in line. I bet condemned prisoners sound more enthusiastic. But thank you. I’ll endeavor to make sure you never regret your kindness.”
“Um, I’ll guess we’ll see as time goes on, won’t we?”
She rose. “Bye.”
“Where are you going?”
“Today’s Saturday. Unlike you, I don’t plan to spend it at work. I have places to go and things to do.”
“Such as?”
He rose and moved around the desk in that lithe grace she suddenly found fascinating.
Don’t come any closer , she thought, panicking, or I’ll lose my train of thought . But he obviously couldn’t read minds, because he stepped right up beside her.
Gemma breathed in the scent of his aftershave. Spicy and masculine, it called forth a small fire deep within. What was wrong with her? She’d been closer to him many times and never had this reaction before.
“Um…”
She looked away and tried to think of some activity that would satisfy his curiosity.
When Nikos reached out to brush an errant strand of hair from her cheek, she jumped. Her gaze flying to his, Gemma held her breath. In all the years she’d worked for him, he’d never touched her.
And a good thing, too. Shimmering excitement danced along her cheek as the feel of his warm fingertips lingered. She searched his eyes for any sign he’d felt something when he touched her.
His oblique gaze revealed nothing. Impassivity was fine when dealing with longshoremen, but Gemma would have liked some sign of what Nikos was feeling. Was she the only one to notice that spark?
“If you have prior obligations, then do not let me detain you,” he said. “Thank you for agreeing to become my wife. We will see to the arrangements on Monday.”
Nikos reached for her hand and clasped it lightly in his, then lifted it and turned it palm up. Lightly he brushed his lips across her wrist.
“You do me honor in your agreement,” he said in his husky voice with the slight British intonation.
“It is I who am honored,” Gemma replied, still feeling the warmth his light caress engendered. “I’ll make sure my baby does nothing to sully your family name.”
He smiled slightly and leaned closer.
Pulling her hand free, Gemma turned and fled. She snatched up her purse in passing and hurried to the elevator. The car she’d come up in was still on the floor, so she instantly stepped inside and punched the button for the lobby, leaning against the side wall, willing the doors to close swiftly.
She tried to get her roiling emotions under control. She was engaged to Nikos Petropoulos. And he’d sealed their bargain with a kiss.
Not on the mouth, as she might have expected, but a kiss. One she could still feel. If she hadn’t run like a scared rabbit, would he have given her an actual kiss?
Gemma turned right from the building entrance and began walking briskly to escape her thoughts. She couldn’t believe she’d just agreed to marry the man. She still had a dozen questions, a dozen concerns. But it was too late—she’d said yes.
With an odd sense of elation, Nikos watched Gemma practically run from the office and head for the elevators. Slowly, he turned and moved to the windows. It was sunny and warm outside, but the climate control of the building gave little hint of the balmy weather. He wondered where Gemma was heading in such a hurry. The offices were too high for him to see her when she emerged from the building, but he watched the pedestrians, anyway.
He knew little about his assistant beyond how well she worked for him. Who were her friends? How had she gotten mixed up with a married man? Judging by the signs, she was hurt, afraid, and doubly wary now.
Which suited him. Their marriage was a business deal. When the crises had passed, they could each resume their normal lives. He didn’t want her imagining she was falling in love.
From this moment on, however, she was his—temporarily.
A peculiar feeling of completion filled him. Her visit surprised him this morning, and he felt intrigued by her wearing clothes that were so different from the attire she usually wore to work. He liked her top. Its snug fit displayed her figure to full advantage. She was stunning.
The softness of her skin had been another surprise. Had she not pulled away so abruptly, he’d have kissed her again, moving this time to that inviting mouth that seemed to cry for his attention this morning.
How could he have overlooked it in the past?
Would she be shy in her kisses? Or daring?
Impatient with his thoughts, he turned back to his desk. There were a few more items he wished to cover today. Monday, he’d have Elise clear his calendar for the week, except for the longshoreman's contract negotiations, which wouldn’t wait. He wanted to be prepared for every demand and be able to back up his counteroffers with as much data as possible.
But just before he pulled the analyses from the folder, he looked through the door to where Gemma usually sat. He almost wished he’d been going with her today—wherever she was going.
Time enough when they were married to do things together. They hadn’t discussed that possibility. He looked forward to Gemma’s reaction when he brought it up.
When Gemma stepped off the elevator Monday morning, fellow workers wishing her well instantly surrounded her. Nikos had obviously wasted no time in letting the entire firm know about their pending nuptials.
“Thank you.”
She smiled politely as two secretaries wished her happiness, then bombarded her with questions.
“So, tell us how it happened?”
“When did he propose?”
“Isn’t he the most romantic man you know?”
“Where are you going to live?”
“Will you keep your job?”
Gemma looked at Monique. The young woman had worked for them for seven months. She was competent, but not at all satisfied with her job. Ambitious, she had yet to prove herself ready for additional responsibility. Sometimes Gemma thought the woman just wanted more money.
“Did you get your ring yet?”
With a glance of disappointment, Shelly looked at her left hand, then brightened. “Oh, I know, you’ll shop for it together.”
“Not likely,” Monique interrupted. “I’m sure Nikos has a fortune in jewels in the family vault.” She waved her hand vaguely. “He probably sent for them to present to his future wife. I imagine they’re worth a small fortune. Won’t you be worried wearing thousands of dollars’ worth of jewels around here?”
Gemma shook her head, slowly making her way toward her office. She needed to speak to Nikos. Smiling, she tried to appear the happy fiancée and answer all their questions. The last thing either she or Nikos wanted was suspicions.
“I know nothing about jewels. We’ll get things sorted out soon, and I’ll let you all know. In the meantime, I have work to do, and I suspect you all do, as well. Excuse me.”
Elise smiled sympathetically when Gemma reached her desk.
“Sorry, I think that ambush was my fault. When Nikos told me, I was so surprised and delighted that I called Betty in personnel. She is a bit of a blabbermouth.”
Gemma rolled her eyes and nodded.
“You’ve got that right. Please, tell everyone I really appreciate their interest, but we have work to do.”
“Including my new assignment, find out all I can about instant marriages in New York. If I can’t get the answer soon, Nikos' threatening to fly out to Las Vegas tomorrow and marry you there.”
“Great, just what I always wanted, a wedding with an Elvis impersonator officiating. Not.”
Gemma crossed the room to her desk and wondered what it would be like to be so wildly in love with a man they were both impatient to get married.
Like she thought she and James might have been several months ago. In such an event, maybe even an Elvis wedding at some tacky chapel in Las Vegas would be worth it.
But this marriage was a business deal, one Nikos was obviously planning to complete as soon as possible to stall the INS. A quiet ceremony at City Hall would be much more his style.
For a moment, Gemma gave a thought to a traditional wedding. Since her mom had died in a plane crash when she was fourteen, Gemma had never really planned on a formal traditional wedding. She wondered if her father had once longed to walk her down the aisle. If her mother had wanted Gemma to wear her wedding dress. Had they not died, Gemma probably would still live in Ohio and would never have met Nikos. Or James.
If she and James had married, maybe she would have opted for a formal ceremony in memory of her parents. But Nikos' family didn’t live in America, and she suspected he was not inviting them.
In fact, she wondered if he’d even tell them. There was no need. The marriage would be over in a few short months—and it wasn’t as if it was real.
“Good morning, Gemma,” Nikos said, coming out of his office. “I expect Frank LeBec to arrive in about ten minutes. We’ll be reviewing some demands from the union. I have Phil and Josh joining us, and I want you to sit in on the meeting as well. Elise has the conference room set up. Anything you think I should know about LeBec? You’ve met him before—I haven’t.”
“He’s a bit belligerent because of his lack of formal education, I’ve always thought. He had to drop out of school to help his family when he was a teenager, and as he moves up the ranks in the union, I think it bothers him more and more. He’s fiercely loyal to his union and the men he represents. He’d rather do right by them than negotiate or be conciliatory,” she said evenly.
Her voice didn’t reflect the turmoil that had arisen unexpectedly upon seeing Nikos. She had better get used to it. She’d be seeing a lot more of him when they married.
His dark eyes had scarcely looked at her; he was reading the union’s list of demands. Demands in addition to the normal scope of their latest contract.
Now he glanced at her.
“I asked Elise to find out about getting married.”
“I heard. I met half the office staff when I got off the elevator. Our wedding is a seven-day wonder, and curiosity is rampant.”
“What?”
Gemma smiled sweetly, though she longed to stamp her foot. What had he been thinking? Probably hadn’t given the repercussions a thought.
“News travels fast and everyone wants to know what we are doing. I understand we might even make a quick stop in Las Vegas for the ceremony.”
He frowned.
“I mentioned that in passing. I have no intention of flying to Vegas. We can get married here in New York. Elise will have all the information by the time we’re finished with LeBec. No one said anything to me.”
“Like they’re going to question the big boss?”
He stepped closer. “But they harassed you?”
“It’s not harassment. Friendly curiosity and open season for gossip. Some women who work here find you vastly romantic and think our marriage is a continuation of that romantic streak in you.”
At least she’d be spared some of the speculation about her pregnancy when it became known—she hoped. She should be grateful for that. But she was still not feeling too charitable toward men. And it wasn’t as if Nikos wasn’t getting what he wanted from the deal.
“Romantic? That’s nonsense.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I can see their point.”
He stepped closer. Gemma felt the air leave the room. She would have stepped back, gained some space, but she was already against her desk. If she didn’t want to duck to one side like a gawky schoolgirl, she had to hold her ground.
A deep breath—and she became conscious of Nikos' unique scent, masculine and entirely too tantalizing. Gemma longed for a moment’s respite.
“You see their point? Maybe you could elaborate.”
His voice was low, husky. Instantly Gemma imagined dark velvet-warm nights, Nikos with a woman alone in a quiet place, talking, touching…
Her imagination soared out of control. Swallowing, she tried to find the words to make the man step back. But nothing came to mind except how she’d like to feel his lips on her own.
Why did she keep thinking about a kiss? She’d sworn off men.
“Gemma?”
She cleared her throat.
“You are, um, rather, ah, exotic?”
“Exotic?”
“In a thrilling sort of way,” she added rapidly, totally confused by the emotions that clamored within. Was this some kind of hormone-induced fantasy? Was she losing her mind?
“Thrilling? You intrigue me. Please continue.”
How did she get into this? Where was Frank LeBec? Wasn’t he supposed to be here by now?
“Well, you’re wildly attractive, tall, dark, and handsome. Women notice things like that. And you’re successful and rich and sophisticated and Greek men are known to be romantic.”
He leaned even closer until Gemma could feel the puff of his breath caress her cheeks. Mesmerized by his dark eyes, she couldn’t continue. Could scarcely put two thoughts together. Her entire body seemed to be tuned to his, yearned for his, wished to explore that mouth that was so temptingly near. She longed to brush her fingers through that dark hair; test the strength of his muscles. Feel his heat envelop her.
“I’m fascinated by this discussion. Please continue,” he said.
His voice was like mulled wine—spicy and hot and intoxicating. Gemma wanted him to speak, not her—so she could listen to his voice and float away on the myriad feelings that tumbled inside.
She leaned back over her desk, trying for some distance, some perspective.
“Nikos, you’re crowding me.”
“You’ve intrigued me, Gemma. I’m interested to see if you feel as these other women do. If you find me exotic, fascinating, attractive.”
His mouth was mere inches from hers. Gemma wondered what he’d do if she just leaned forward until her lips touched his. Before she could gather enough wits to respond, however, he straightened and stepped back.
“Much as I’d like to continue this right now, I hear Elise approaching. Frank LeBec must be here.”
He moved to the door.
Gemma remained rooted to the spot. If she didn’t have the support of the desk behind her, she’d have sunk to the floor. Taking a deep breath, she desperately sought control. She had a meeting to attend. No time to get starry-eyed about her boss or start imagining an attraction that wasn’t there.
If his presence at work drove her wild, what would being married feel like? It was necessary for her to maintain control. She dared not imagine there was more to this relationship than was actually between them.
She’d set herself up for heartbreak once.
“Forewarned is forearmed,” she muttered as she turned to get her notebook and a couple of pens.