Page 4 of Slightly Married (Irresistible #2)
Minutes later, a knock sounded through my apartment. I opened the door to find Konstantin filling the doorway, bringing with him the subtle scent of expensive cologne.
His gaze traveled from my bare feet up to the braids I’d piled atop my head. His eyes cataloged every inch of my light-yellow cashmere lounge set. The way his eyes tracked over me made my nerves spark to life.
“Couldn’t your assistant drop it off?” I asked, trying to sound casual despite my pounding heart.
“I wanted to handle this personally.”
“May I see it?” I held out my hand.
Even though I’d spoken Greek all my life, speaking to him in the language felt strangely intimate.
He held out a manila envelope. “You may peruse it at your leisure,” he said, then added, “but before the wedding.”
I pulled out the contents and began scanning the dense legal text.
Simone appeared at my side, thrusting out her hand. “Hello. I’m Simone Athanasiou.” Her voice carried its usual confident lilt. “Would you care to come in?”
“He’s not staying,” I responded at the exact moment Konstantin said, “Thank you,” and stepped past me into the foyer, bringing his scent and presence fully into my post-divorce sanctuary.
Lauren joined the impromptu gathering, and soon introductions floated around me while I focused on the documents.
The legal language outlined an allowance during our marriage exceeding six figures monthly, convertible to alimony once our marriage ended, plus child support from conception until our yet-to-be-conceived child turned twenty-five.
Our yet-to-be-conceived baby would spend summers and every even-year Christmas in Greece. The visits would last at least a month. All travel arrangements would be handled by Konstantin’s team.
I could already feel the loneliness of Christmas mornings without my baby, years before they’d even begun. Would I be welcome on these trips, or would I be sending my baby off alone? The contract didn’t specify. Another note for my lawyer.
Konstantin would cover private security, private school, travel accommodations, and healthcare for both me and the baby. The cost of the nanny would be his responsibility as well.
I paused at the mention of a nanny. The assumption that we’d have household help stirred mixed feelings.
My parents had hired a night nanny for Simone and me, but the nanny wasn’t allowed to disturb them unless it was a genuine emergency.
Mom had been adamant about handling the daytime hours herself, believing that despite my father’s wealth, no hired help could provide the love and guidance a mother could.
Additional terms included a multi-million-dollar trust fund for the yet-to-be-conceived child, accessible at age twenty-five.
I raised my head to find him standing in my living room, looking completely at ease in my space.
“I don’t need alimony,” I interrupted their animated debate about European cars.
He turned away from the conversation, one eyebrow arched. “You may not need it, but you’ll get it, anyway.” His voice carried the confidence of someone unaccustomed to being refused.
“I can provide for myself and any child we create.”
His face clouded. “Our child will be raised in the manner to which every Christakis is entitled.” He added, “And that includes ensuring the child’s mother is financially secure.”
I opened my mouth to object, but caught Simone’s slight head shake from the corner of my eye. Like me, she’d been raised by a Greek man, and we both recognized the pride they took in providing for their families.
For Konstantin, to do any less would be an affront to his manhood. For the first time in my life, I decided to accept financial support from a man who wasn’t my father.
In my past relationships, I’d footed all the bills. Maybe the unconventional start of this relationship would yield a different outcome from my previous experiences.
“So I get the baby, the bills paid, and eventually freedom? Sounds like I’m getting the better end of this deal after all.” I carefully refolded the contract along its creases. “Before I sign it, I’ll have my lawyers look it over.”
Konstantin nodded, satisfaction flickering across his features. He turned toward Lauren and Simone. “Ladies, it was a pleasure.” Then to me, with an incline of his head, “I’ll see you at the altar.”
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving a lingering trace of his cologne in the air.
The three of us stood in silence for a moment. “Well?” I finally demanded, turning to them for feedback. “What do you think?”
“My niece or nephew will be cute,” Simone murmured, a small smile playing at her lips.
“Facts,” Lauren agreed with a grin. “Plus, he looks like he’s packin’ a Louisville Slugger in his boxers!”
The warmth creeping up my neck annoyed me more than their teasing. Physical attraction was inconvenient but manageable.
This marriage would be different from my last. No expectations meant no disappointment; no intimacy meant no betrayal. I could do this on my terms while keeping my heart safely locked away.