The Greek Billionaire’s Email Bride (A Painful Kind of Love)

Chapter One

Colin Soukoulis studied the latest email from his prospective bride, his dark eyes narrowing as he read.

Dear Mr. Soukoulis,

I've attached photos of myself as requested. I understand they might not be what you expected based on your specifications to Heart's Match. I believe Mrs. Takahashi has her reasons for matching us, though I admit I'm not entirely sure what they are.

Regarding this weekend, my foster parents are looking forward to meeting you. They believe we've been dating for two months after meeting at a charity event in Michigan. I apologize for the deception, but I couldn't bear for them to know the truth. They would worry.

I look forward to your cooperation, and I sincerely apologize for the trouble.

Respectfully,

Hope Tiangco

A humorless smile twisted over his lips as he clicked through the attached photos. A tall, slender woman with serious gray eyes and brown hair pulled into a severe bun. Plain features. Sensible clothes. Earnest expression.

Nothing – absolutely nothing – like Princess Halstead.

No, make that Princess Halstead Garcia.

Why did he keep forgetting that?

Colin closed his laptop and moved to the wall of windows in his downtown office. Twenty-five years he'd waited to show Princess what she'd thrown away when she'd chosen Roland's money over his promise.

And now this.

He poured himself two fingers of scotch, swirling the amber liquid before taking a measured sip. Charlotte Takahashi had been infuriatingly serene when he'd called to question her judgment.

This is what you're paying me for. So trust me on this, please.

Easier said than done, but since Charlotte was the best in the business, and personally recommended by his friend Lukas Tsaldaris...

Fine then.

With deliberate movements, Colin typed his response.

Ms. Tiangco,

I'll be there at noon on Saturday. I understand your desire to shield your parents from the truth, and I'll respect the narrative you've created.

I must emphasize that our arrangement remains temporary, regardless of what your parents are told. After the reunion, you'll be generously compensated as we agreed.

Colin Soukoulis

He drained his scotch, savoring the burn. Six hours until his flight to Wyoming. Six hours to prepare himself to meet a woman he hadn't chosen, to pretend affection he didn't feel, all for the sake of a decades-old wound that refused to heal.

****

Hope's fingers trembled as she read Colin's terse response. Each carefully chosen word drove home what she already knew—she was a business transaction. A means to an end.

Not that she'd expected anything else. Heart's Match had made the terms clear: Colin Soukoulis needed a temporary wife to accompany him to his high school reunion. Afterward, they would part ways, and she would have enough money to finally start the life she'd always dreamed of.

"I can't believe this is happening."

Hope closed the email and smiled as her foster mother came into the room. "You know how old-fashioned I am. I couldn't possibly be with Colin if we weren't married first. But at least that means you can still attend the actual wedding." And that's not quite a lie, Hope reminded herself. There could still be an actual wedding for her foster parents to attend, only with a different groom.

"Colin is amazing, Mom. You'll love him, I promise." Now, these words...could be a lie, but she really hoped not. Her priority was to keep Edith and Frank Barton from worry. They'd taken her in at fifteen: half-starved, skittish, and damaged from years in the foster system. They'd given her stability, love, and a chance at a future. For twenty-five years, they'd been the only real family she'd known. The least she could do was spare them the knowledge that their daughter was desperate enough to agree to an arranged marriage.

"Two months," Edith mused, settling into a chair across from Hope. "It seems awfully fast to be getting married."

"Not that fast," Hope reminded her. "We met in high school. Remember?"

"But you also said you two had lost touch. This is just so...unlike you. You've always been so cautious."

Hope touched the ring that Heart's Match had delivered to her doorstep just a day ago. "When you know, you know," she said with forced brightness. "Sometimes it takes forty years to find the right person."

Edith studied her with knowing eyes. "And you know?"

For a moment, Hope considered confessing everything. But the worry it would cause, the disappointment...

"Yes, Mom. I know."

Her phone vibrated, and Hope was thankful for having an excuse to look away and keep Edith from seeing the truth in her eyes.

Proxy marriage conract signed. Flight ETA noon. Will bring car service. No need to pick me up. - CG

The text from her husband was exactly what she would expect from someone like Colin. Distant. Cool. Blunt. He had already been all of those things in high school, but such behavior was even likelier, considering their situation.

The billionaire had asked for a trophy wife. And Heart's Match gave him Hope: a plain forty-year-old virgin who'd spent nearly two decades making spreadsheets about toilets.

****

The regional airport in her hometown was little more than a glorified airstrip with a handful of private hangars. Hope waited on the single bench outside the small terminal, nervously smoothing her simple blue dress—the nicest one she owned.

A sleek private jet taxied to a stop on the tarmac, its gleaming exterior almost blinding in the Wyoming sun. Hope's stomach tightened. Of course Colin Soukoulis had his own plane. What else had she expected?

The jet's door opened, and a man emerged at the top of the stairs. Even from a distance, he took her breath away.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with black hair touched with premature silver at the temples. His face could have been carved from granite—all sharp angles and brooding intensity. He wore no tie with his tailored suit, the top buttons of his shirt casually undone, but the effect was no less intimidating.

This was a man who commanded rooms simply by entering them.

Hope stood, smoothing her dress one last time as Colin Soukoulis crossed the tarmac toward her. His gaze swept over her, dark and assessing.

"Ms. Tiangco," he said, his voice deeper than she'd imagined from their brief phone conversation.

She cleared her throat. "It's actually Mrs. Soukoulis now?"

The reminder visibly disconcerted him, and Hope struggled not to let this affect her. "Just call me Hope, please."

It was a struggle to keep her face expressionless as he tok her hand. His palm was warm against hers, his grip firm but not overpowering.

"Hope," he repeated, and the sound of her name in his voice made her cheeks warm.

Up close, he was even more devastating than she remembered. A strong jaw with just the right amount of stubble. Eyes like molten chocolate, intense and penetrating. They were nearly the same height, she realized—her five-nine to his six-four—their eyes almost level when she wore heels.

"You're taller than your photos suggested," he remarked, still studying her.

She had always been this tall. But she supposed he had never noticed since she had never been the type to stand out in their old high school, even with her height.

The silence between them stretched uncomfortably, and Hope shifted on her feet. "Um..." Think, Hope! What else was there to say? She cleared her throat again. "Your, um, plane is impressive."

"It serves its purpose."

Spoken like a true billionaire, Hope thought, but not unkindly. It was simply what it was.

Colin glanced past her to the parking lot. "Your car?"

Hope nodded toward her faded blue Subaru, suddenly conscious of its dents and peeling paint. "I'm sorry. I know it doesn't look much, but it's reliable."

"I'm sure it is."

"I know you told me that I didn't need to pick you up, but I thought having more time together before meeting my parents would be ideal."

Colin only nodded, and she wondered if he was always this silent. Or maybe he already found her boring?

Hope unlocked the passenger door for him, hurriedly clearing away a granola bar wrapper and an empty coffee cup.

Colin folded his tall frame into the passenger seat, his knees nearly touching the dashboard. In the confined space, his presence overwhelmed her senses—the subtle cedar notes of his cologne, the quiet power radiating from him with each shift of his shoulders.

Hope slid behind the wheel, shrinking beneath the weight of his silent assessment.

"My parents live about twenty minutes from here," she said, starting the engine. "They're... they're good people, but they're not—"

"I understand."

The quiet assurance in his voice startled her into looking at him.

"I know what's at stake. I'll do my part. I promise."

"Thank you," she said simply.

"Tell me more about them."

"The Bartons aren't my biological parents," Hope explained, keeping her eyes on the road as she started the drive back. "They fostered me starting when I was fifteen, after I'd been in several bad placements."

She felt his gaze on her profile but couldn't bring herself to meet it. Her history wasn't something she shared easily.

"They took in a traumatized teenager?" Colin asked quietly.

Hope nodded. "They saved my life. Edith and Frank... they gave me stability. A home."

The countryside blurred past her window—rolling hills dotted with cattle, mountains in the distance, a sky so blue it hurt to look at it. Wyoming's beauty had always been a comfort to Hope. Today, it felt like a reminder of everything wild and unpredictable in her carefully planned life.

"We're here," she said as they turned onto a dirt road lined with aspen trees.

The Barton farmhouse came into view: white with blue shutters, flower beds lining the front porch, and a hand-painted mailbox reading "Barton Family Farm." It was modest but meticulously maintained.

Edith came out to welcome them. "So you're the gentleman who's stolen our girl's heart."

Hope's pulse quickened as Colin stepped forward, taking Edith's weathered hand in both of his.

"Mrs. Barton." His voice transformed, warming in a way Hope hadn't heard before. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Colin Soukoulis."

"Oh, none of that 'Mrs. Barton' business. It's Edith," the older woman said with a smile. "Come in, please. Frank's just getting cleaned up from the barn."

Hope followed them into the modest living room, watching Colin take in the worn furniture, the crocheted afghans, the family photos covering every surface. She tensed, waiting for a flicker of disdain, a tensing of his shoulders, any sign that he found her childhood home beneath him.

Her foster father joined them then, tall and lean, with leathery skin and kind blue eyes. "Frank Barton," the older man said quite simply as he extended a calloused hand.

Hope held her breath as Colin introduced himself and shook Frank's hand firmly. "It's an honor to meet the man who's responsible for teaching Hope to drive a tractor. From her stories alone, I can already tell she's a lot better than most of my ranch hands."

Frank looked as if he had received the greatest compliment. "My girl's always been one in a million."

Hope could only watch in amazement as Colin Soukoulis—billionaire CEO and revenge-seeking husband—went on to skillfully charm her foster parents over Edith's pot roast dinner. He asked Frank about crop rotation, listened to Edith's stories of Hope's early adulthood, and somehow managed to downplay his own wealth without lying outright. He was... perfect.

Too perfect.

By the time they moved to the porch for coffee and Edith's apple pie, Hope was thoroughly confused. This wasn't the cool, distant man she remembered or had come to expect from their brief exchange of emails. This was someone else entirely.

"Hope tells us you run that vegetable meat company," Frank said, settling into his porch rocker. "That's mighty impressive."

"Plant-based protein," Colin corrected gently. "And I've been fortunate. The right idea at the right time."

"He's being modest," Hope found herself saying. "Greenbright revolutionized the industry. Colin built it from nothing."

Colin looked at her in surprise, but she pretended not to notice this.

"Frank, why don't you show Colin your workshop while Hope helps me with these dishes?" Edith suggested, gathering plates.

Hope shot Colin an apologetic glance, but he was already rising to follow Frank.

In the kitchen, Edith hummed as she rinsed dishes, passing them to Hope to load in the dishwasher.

"He's handsome as sin," Edith remarked casually.

Hope nearly dropped a plate. "Mom!"

Edith chuckled. "What? These old eyes still work just fine. Though I'll admit, he's not what I expected."

Hope tensed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, when you said 'CEO,' I pictured someone... colder. More corporate." Edith handed her another dish. "But that man couldn't stop staring at you." Edith's gaze turned knowing. "And it's the same for you. I saw how you've been stealing glances at him all night when you think nobody's looking." Edith dried her hands on a dish towel. "Love happens when you least expect it, especially at our age. Look at me and your father—married at forty-two, after we'd both given up."

"I know," Hope whispered, the lie burning her throat.

Edith squeezed her shoulder. "He's a good man. I can tell. The way he listens—really listens. That's rare."

Hope nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

When the men returned from the workshop, Frank was explaining the finer points of his latest woodworking project. Colin listened attentively, asking questions that made Frank stand taller, pride evident in his weathered face.

"We should get going if we're going to make our flight," Colin said eventually, checking his watch.

The goodbyes were lengthy and warm. Edith pressed containers of leftovers into Hope's hands. Frank clapped Colin on the shoulder.

"You take care of our girl," Frank said, his voice gruff with emotion.

"I will, sir," Colin replied, and the gravity in his tone sounded so real that Hope had to look away. "You have my word."

****

The road stretched before them, golden in the setting sun as Hope searched for words. "I appreciate how you were with them. It meant a lot."

"They love you very much."

"Yes." Hope's throat tightened. She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. "About the pot roast—I should have warned you. Your company being plant-based and all..."

"I still eat ethically raised meat if the situation requires it." Colin straightened his sleeve, his voice cooling to that formal tone she was beginning to recognize as his armor. "It's factory farming I oppose."

The silence that followed felt weighted, full of unspoken things.

Colin shifted in his seat to face her. "What will you tell them when this ends?"

The blunt question hit like a physical blow. Hope stared straight ahead, unseeing. "That we wanted different things, I suppose."

"And what do you want?"

The question caught her unprepared. What did she want? Security, yes. A home of her own. But also...

Her fingers gripped the wheel tighter. "Someone to belong to," she admitted, the truth spilling out before she could stop it. "Someone who might want to belong to me, too."

Colin said nothing more as they reached the airport.

His private jet waited on the tarmac, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. A uniformed attendant took Hope's modest suitcase while Colin guided her up the steps with a light touch at the small of her back—the first deliberate contact between them since their handshake hours before. That simple touch sent awareness skittering across her skin, surprising in its intensity.

The interior of the jet was a revelation—all buttery leather and polished wood, with only four oversized seats instead of rows. Hope sank into one, trying not to look as overwhelmed as she felt.

Colin took the seat opposite her, loosening the top button of his shirt. Hope found her gaze drawn to the movement, to the exposed hollow of his throat where pulse beat strong against tanned skin.

"The flight's about two hours," he said, and Hope yanked her attention back to his eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring. "We'll be in Denver before dinner."

Hope nodded, suddenly very aware of how alone they were. The attendant brought them drinks—water for Hope, scotch neat for Colin—and then disappeared into the cockpit.

The engines hummed to life beneath them. Hope gripped the armrests as they taxied, her stomach fluttering with nerves that had nothing to do with flying.

"First time on a private jet?"

Hope loosened her death-grip on the armrests even as a rueful smile touched her lips. "I wonder what gave it away."

Colin smiled, and her heart skipped a beat like she was in the throes of her first schoolgirl crush. "I like that you don't hide it. It's...refreshing."

Refreshing.

She was forty years old, and he thought her...refreshing.

The jet accelerated down the runway, pressing Hope back into her seat. She closed her eyes as they lifted into the air, her stomach dropping with the ascent.

When she opened them again, Colin was watching her. Something smoldered in his gaze, and her breath caught in her throat.

The plane suddenly shuddered with minor turbulence. Hope started in her seat, and Colin reached for her hand. Their fingers brushed. A jolt of awareness shot up her arm. Neither moved away.

As the turbulence subsided, Colin's hand shifted, covering hers. His palm was warm, slightly rough. Hope's breath caught in her throat.

"You read the fine print in our contract?"

Hope swallowed. "You're talking about..."

Seeing that she had a hard time putting it to words, Colin stated bluntly, "Before the flight lands, couples are expected to become comfortable with physical contact. It's in the contract."

A flush covered her cheeks, and she could feel her face burning hotter when she noticed Colin staring at her mouth.

Am I ready for this?

The soft click of Colin's seatbelt releasing seemed thunderous in the cabin. He moved beside her, the leather creaking beneath his weight. This close, she caught new details—fine lines at the corners of his eyes, the subtle notes of his cologne mingling with scotch on his breath, a tiny scar near his jaw.

"May I?"

Hope could only nod, no longer trusting herself to be coherent.

Colin's hand came up to cup her cheek, turning her face toward his. "Close your eyes," he commanded softly.

She obeyed, feeling vulnerable and exposed in the intimate cabin. The anticipation was almost painful.

His lips touched hers, gently. Hope remained perfectly still, afraid to breathe. To move. Or do anything that might break the moment.

Then Colin's hand slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in the hair at the base of her tight bun. The kiss deepened, his mouth moving more insistently against hers.

A small sound escaped Hope's throat, part surprise, part surrender, and Colin pulled back slightly, his breath warm against her lips.

"Open your mouth, kyria."

The roughness of his voice was unexpected but thrilling, the sound compelling her to obey. And as soon as her lips parted, the kiss deepened with a stroke of his tongue. And the taste of him was wonderfully...virile.

Colin's hand tightened in her hair, loosening the pins that held her severe bun in place. The kiss turned hungry, demanding. Heat bloomed in Hope's chest, spreading downward, pooling low in her belly. She'd never been kissed like this. Never. This kiss made her feel like she was a woman, and that she was wanted. And as to whether that was true or not—her body didn't seem to care.

When Colin finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard. Hope's hair had come partly undone, a few strands falling around her face. Colin watched her with dark, unreadable eyes.

"We'll be landing soon."

The tautness of his voice was unmistakable, and so was the rigid set of his body. It seemed as if he had forced himself to stop. But why that was, she wasn't yet ready to think of.

She touched her lips, which felt swollen and overly sensitive. Her body was still trembling, and her entire world became even rockier when Colin suddenly reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

The casual intimacy of the gesture felt more shocking than the kiss somehow, and it completely stole her breath.

"You should wear your hair down more often," he said quietly. "It suits you."

Before Hope could respond, he returned to his original seat, leaving her flushed and confused.

The pilot announced their descent into Denver. Hope gazed out the window as the plane dropped through clouds, city lights appearing below.

When she glanced back at Colin, he was watching her with an intensity that made her shiver.

"Welcome to Colorado, Hope." His gaze was shuttered, his tone unreadable. "Let's hope this works for the both of us."