Page 21 of Slightly Married (Irresistible #2)

I followed Kayla across the Belgium racetrack grounds, watching as her sundress caught the breeze, billowing around her legs in a riot of color. She’d been vibrating with excitement since we’d confirmed our attendance at Santo’s race.

When my brothers and Tia came into view, Kayla increased her pace, nearly breaking into a run.

“Kayla!” Tia’s excited squeal carried over the ambient noise of the track.

The two women collided in an enthusiastic embrace, rocking back and forth with unrestrained joy.

“Look at you!” Kayla exclaimed, stepping back to examine her friend. “I’m glad you found someone to finish what I started!”

“Me too,” Tia laughed.

I recalled carrying Kayla away while she was midway through braiding Tia’s hair. Seeing the two friends reunite now, I couldn’t help but smile at how that spontaneous decision had marked a turning point in our relationship.

Tia had every right to be annoyed with me for interrupting her hairstyling session, yet here she was, greeting us warmly.

I stepped forward, giving Tia a slight bow. “Ms. Massey, a pleasure to see you again.”

While maintaining appropriate decorum, I studied Santo’s girlfriend. Her smile radiated warmth, and there was a refreshing authenticity in her demeanor.

“Well, well,” Dimitrios said, clapping my shoulder. “Look who finally decided to rejoin the world.”

From the doorway of the private viewing box, Aris cleared his throat. “If you’re quite finished with the reunion, the race begins in twenty minutes.”

We filed into the luxurious viewing box, the heavy glass door sealing behind us with a soft whoosh, instantly muffling the deafening roar of engines. I positioned myself beside Kayla.

Around us, engines roared and spectators cheered for the preliminary races.

I observed Kayla’s animated conversation with Tia, noting how her eyes brightened when she laughed, how her hands moved expressively as she spoke.

She’d been mine for just a month, yet I could no longer imagine my life without her vibrant presence.

Our time in Corfu had transformed something fundamental between us. I looked forward to her morning opinions on the news, appreciating how she challenged my perspectives without hesitation.

The quiet moments—watching her read on the balcony or work on styling projects—had become as essential to me as the passionate nights.

I’d grown accustomed to her humming while applying her skincare, her tendency to kick off her shoes the moment she entered a room and the way she absently twisted her wedding ring when deep in thought.

Most surprising was how she’d notice when my leg pained me, wordlessly guiding me to sit before kneeling to massage the damaged knee. That small ritual of care had become something I relied on.

When her hand found mine during a particularly close finish in one of the preliminary races, I interlaced our fingers. My thumb traced small circles on her wrist, savoring the connection that now felt as natural as breathing.

As the women became engrossed in their conversation, Dimitrios nudged my shoulder. “The betting booth closes in ten minutes. Coming?”

I glanced at Kayla. “I’ll be back shortly,” I told her, receiving a distracted nod in response.

I followed my brothers through the crowded VIP section to the private betting area. Dimitrios immediately engaged the attendant while Aris reviewed the odds sheet.

“Five hundred thousand on Santo,” Dimitrios announced confidently. Aris placed a more substantial bet.

When my turn came, I placed a million on my nephew without hesitation.

As Aristides stepped aside to take a call, Dimitrios studied me with curiosity. “Something’s different,” he observed, lowering his voice. “What happened between you and Kayla in Corfu?”

I maintained my neutral expression. “We came to an understanding.”

“An understanding?” Dimitrios laughed. “That’s what you call the way your eyes follow her every movement? I haven’t seen him hold anyone’s hand since Elana.”

I pocketed my betting slip. “We should return. The race will start soon.”

“Of course,” Dimitrios grinned. “Wouldn’t want to keep your wife waiting.”

As we made our way back to the women, I noticed a young man in a designer suit speaking with Tia. When Tia visibly recoiled, I began moving quicker in their direction.

The man opened his jacket, flashing a pocket stuffed with euros while murmuring something that made Tia’s expression transform from discomfort to disgust. Kayla then addressed the man, and he turned to my wife with a dismissive sneer.

In three deliberate strides, I closed the distance. I gripped his shoulder, yanking him backward. “You will apologize to both ladies immediately.”

The man stumbled, then straightened his jacket with an affronted glare. “Do you know who I am?”

“Someone who’s about to be escorted out,” Aris replied from behind me. “Unless you’d prefer I handle it personally.”

The threat in Aris’ voice was unmistakable. Two security personnel materialized promptly, grasping the offender by his arms and removing him despite his protests.

Tia thanked me, but the vicious whispers targeting her began immediately.

“Does she have the gall to be here, among decent people?”

“Did you hear? She has an STD. Gave it to him.”

“Wonder how many men she’s given it to, the slut. Shameless.”

I’d witnessed similar character assassinations throughout my life. My jaw tightened as I prepared to intervene, but Aristides moved first.

“Enough.” His voice carried unmistakable authority. “The Christakis family doesn’t tolerate slander. Our lawyers will be contacting anyone continuing these disgusting rumors.”

Katalina’s (Santo’s ex) voice cut through the momentary silence. “How can you defend a woman who’s offering her prostitution services here, while Santo is racing?”

I expected Tia to crumble under the combined weight of these attacks. Instead, I witnessed a transformation commanding my immediate respect.

“Oh, so we’re just saying anything now?” she began. “Just making up fake stories? You’ll are really bold whispering, but not bold enough to say it to my face. Let’s go down the list, shall we?”

What followed was a masterclass in verbal lashing. Tia dismantled her opponents one by one. She called out the woman whose cosmetic surgeon had clearly been overpaid for her unnaturally taut features, then verbally eviscerated the man with the chicken-leg physique who’d dared call her shameless.

By the time she turned her attention to Katalina, the room’s energy had shifted palpably. “Let’s be real. The only reason you’re mad is because Santo took one look at me and hasn’t been able to take his eyes or hands off me since.”

When she concluded with, “Now, sip your champagne like your life ain’t miserable, and let me watch my man’s damn race in peace,” I found myself impressed.

Kayla erupted in applause beside me, beaming with pride. “That’s my girl!” she exclaimed, looking around the room with satisfaction.

Tia possessed a backbone beneath her sweet exterior. Santo, it seemed, had chosen more wisely than I had initially given him credit for.

Aristides moved beside me. “Interesting.”

“What is?” I asked, watching as Kayla comforted a still-trembling Tia.

“How quickly we’ve all accepted these women into our family,” he replied, his voice carrying no judgment, merely observation. “First your Kayla, now Santo’s American.”

“Our family has always valued strength,” I replied, keeping my voice low as I observed Kayla’s protective stance beside Tia. “Though it manifests differently than we might have expected.”

I considered how easily Kayla had integrated herself into my life, challenging my beliefs while respecting their foundations. How Tia had just demonstrated an ability to stand firm without sacrificing her morals.

“These women bring something we perhaps didn’t realize we needed,” I continued. “Different perspectives. New energy.”

Aristides nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Change isn’t always comfortable.”

“No,” I agreed, “but sometimes it’s necessary.” I thought about how my expectations had begun to shift over the past weeks. “Father always said the strongest metals are forged through fire,” I added. “Perhaps the same is true for family bonds.”

“A surprisingly poetic sentiment from you, Kostas,” Aris remarked.

I shrugged, uncomfortable with the observation yet unable to deny its accuracy. “We all evolve, it seems.”

As the crowd’s attention shifted back to the upcoming race, I contemplated my brother’s words. How quickly had I accepted Kayla as more than a temporary arrangement? When had she become essential rather than expedient?

The announcement of the drivers taking their positions refocused me on the reason we had gathered. From our privileged position in the VIP viewing box, I watched the race unfold.

Santo’s battle with Juan was apparent. Their cars danced a dangerous waltz across the circuit, the rivalry alive in every aggressive maneuver. Through my binoculars, I tracked Santo’s car as it thundered through Eau Rouge, his control impeccable despite the crushing G-forces.

The viewing box pulsed with the energy of the spectators. Despite the soundproofing, the rumble of twenty engines at full throttle penetrated our resonating in my chest.

“He’s maintaining racing lines despite the pressure,” I remarked to Kayla, who watched with a mixture of excitement and concern beside me.

When the checkered flag waved with Santo crossing ahead, our viewing box erupted. Kayla threw herself in my arms, and I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her off the ground as she squealed in excitement.

“He did it!” she exclaimed, her arms tightly looped around my neck.

“He did,” I confirmed.

Seeing Santo win, witnessing the culmination of his hard work and dedication, filled me with a sense of pride that was almost paternal. Around us, crystal flutes clinked and congratulatory shouts echoed against the glass walls.

Kayla leaned in, pressing her mouth against mine. I tightened my hold on her, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other splayed across her lower back. Her lips parted, and my tongue swept in, tangling with hers.

When we finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed. “How long before he joins us up here?” She asked, her voice breathless and raised above the celebratory noise. “Tia and I need to use the washroom.”

“Half an hour,” I replied, reluctantly placing her on her feet and checking my watch. “He’ll need to complete the obligatory interviews first.”

“We’ll be back soon,” she promised, smoothing her dress.

“Wait for us here when you return. My brothers and I will go down to congratulate Santo and bring him back with us.”

We made our way down to the winner’s enclosure, navigating through the press of bodies. Camera flashes created a strobe-like effect as we approached the celebration surrounding Santo’s team.

Reporters and crew members swarmed around him, but I noted Santo scanning the crowd.

I reached him shortly after Dimitrios had embraced him, exchanging words I couldn’t hear over the noise. When Santo turned to me, I pulled him into an embrace.

“Masterful driving,” I stated. “Your control through Eau Rouge was perfect.”

He acknowledged me with a nod, but his attention remained elsewhere. Aristides approached with a handshake and a subdued. “Good job.”

As Aristides pulled him aside, I watched Santo’s expression transform from triumph to anger. I knew immediately Aristides had informed him about the incident with Tia.

“Where is he now?” Santo demanded.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I cautioned, recognizing the dangerous glint in his eyes.

“When have I ever heeded that advice?” Santo replied.

His attention suddenly shifted, his gaze locking onto something across the crowded room. I followed his line of sight to find Katalina standing with her entourage, then Tia, as she navigated through the crowd.

Santo moved with purpose, cutting through the crowd with single-minded determination. The guests parted before him.

I moved forward to intercept Kayla, who was following Tia. With a light touch to her elbow, I pulled her to me. She allowed me to guide her away.

“We’ll be returning to Athens when we leave here tonight,” I informed her while brushing my thumb across her bare skin.

“Must we? I’ve enjoyed our time at Corfu.” She pouted as her fingers trailed down my chest, making me want to find the nearest hotel.

“Me too,” I admitted, appreciating how the afternoon sun brought golden highlights to her braids. “Those weeks were...everything to me.”

Her eyes softened at my admission. “To me too.”

“There are some business matters I need to handle,” I explained, watching her expression closely. “The quarterly board meeting is scheduled for Monday, and I need to prepare the financial projections.”

“The glamorous life of a CFO never stops, does it?”

“Unfortunately, not,” I agreed. “But I was thinking...”

“Yes?” she prompted when I hesitated.

“Perhaps you might join me for dinner with some potential investors in a few weeks. They’re interested in our expansion into America, and having you there would be valuable.” I paused, then added, “And I’d enjoy your company.”

Her smile brightened. “Mr. Christakis, are you saying you actually want me around for business matters now?” She tilted her head playfully. “I recall a time when you dumped me on your mother’s doorstep and disappeared.”

“You’ve proven yourself quite capable,” I acknowledged, thinking of how she’d gotten me to trust her word regarding her relationship with Yiogos. “Besides, they’ll be distracted by your beauty, making negotiations easier.”

She laughed, the sound warming something inside me. “So I’m just a tactical advantage?”

“Among other things,” I replied, allowing a small smile.

“Fine, we can return to Athens. But on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“We share a bedroom.” Her request held a vulnerability that touched me.

“I can arrange that,” I promised.

“Good.” Her fingers intertwined with mine more firmly. “Because I’m not ready to wake up without you lying under me.”

Neither was I, but before I could voice this, a hush fell over the immediate vicinity. I scanned the crowd and found Santo kneeling before Tia.

Camera flashes erupted around the couple as Santo spoke words we couldn’t hear from our position.

“He’s proposing,” Kayla whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “After only knowing her for—”

“When you know, you know,” I replied, surprising myself with the sentiment.

My gaze shifted from the unfolding scene to my wife’s profile, struck by the realization that despite our unconventional beginning, I was genuinely pleased to have her as my wife.