Page 6 of Slightly Married (Irresistible #2)

“ I n the sight of God and these witnesses,” intoned the priest, “I pronounce you husband and wife.”

The words echoed hollowly in the near-empty church, so different from the packed cathedral where Josh and I had exchanged vows. Then, every pew had been filled with smiling faces.

Now, the vast emptiness of the space seemed to emphasize the transactional nature of this union. No one cried happy tears or whispered about how perfect Konstantin and I looked together.

No one snapped candid photos or threw petals. This wasn’t a celebration. It was a business merger with religious trappings.

Simone, Lauren, and my father sat together on my side of the aisle, while Matt and Konstantin’s assistant Andreas remained two rows back on Konstantin’s side. Before the ceremony, I’d asked the priest to omit the “kiss the bride” portion.

With Josh, our first kiss as husband and wife had lasted almost a full minute. We’d practiced for days in our apartment. That kiss had felt like a promise, the beginning of something precious.

I stood beside my new husband in a cream silk slip dress, its high slit elegant yet understated. The daffodils and black-eyed Susans in my hands offered a cheerful contrast to the solemnity of the occasion. A few matching blooms were nestled among my braids.

My first bridal bouquet had been an elaborate cascade of white orchids and roses that took three consultations. I’d obsessed over every bloom, every ribbon, every pearl pin. This morning, I’d simply stopped at a corner florist on the way to the church, selecting the flowers that caught my eye.

Konstantin stood beside me, his tall frame distinguished in his perfectly tailored tux. My eyes kept finding their way to him, drawn to how the formal wear highlighted his powerful shoulders and confident stance.

I felt the weight of the diamond pendant at my throat, a gift from my father for the occasion. How different this felt from the princess gown and cathedral train of my first wedding.

I looked down at my left hand, now weighted by the platinum and diamond band. The exquisite ring featured an intricate, flowing design that reminded me of water. Surprisingly, it was exactly what I would have chosen for myself.

At the priest’s whispered cue, we exited onto stone steps where the setting sun greeted us. Lauren reached me first, tears already streaming down her face.

“Don’t you dare forget me,” she whispered, clutching me tight. “I expect weekly updates about everything.”

“As if I could forget my favorite drama queen,” I laughed. “You’re visiting me as soon as I’m settled.”

Simone joined our embrace, creating a three-way hug that crushed my bouquet. “Thank you again,” she whispered. “For everything.”

“You should tell Daddy about you and Matt,” I murmured. “Because next time he takes it into his mind to marry you off, I won’t be around to step in.”

She gave a soft acknowledgment as we separated, all of us discreetly wiping away tears. I turned to my father, who opened his arms to me.

As I stepped into his embrace, I was struck by how much frailer he felt. His once-solid frame now felt almost fragile beneath his suit. My concern must have shown on my face when I pulled back.

“I’m fine. More than fine.” His reply came with certainty. “My butterfly is now secured. And soon my lioness will also be secured. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

I caught Simone’s eye across the small gathering, and she looked away.

“The jet’s ready,” Konstantin announced. “Let’s go.”

With one final wave to the people I loved most, I turned toward my new husband and our planned future together.

The moment we stepped onto the private jet, uniformed staff greeted us with formal bows, addressing me as “Mrs. Christakis.”

The Christakis name was emblazoned on everything from the napkins to the headrests. I was still taking in these details when a slender blonde rose from a seat and glided toward Konstantin.

Her cream pantsuit hung perfectly on her frame, her makeup flawless and jewelry expensive but tasteful. The complete opposite of my slip dress and flowers-in-braids wedding day esthetic.

When she leaped into Konstantin’s arms and kissed him full on the lips, my fingers tightened around my bouquet I’d been clutching through the silent limo ride to the private airstrip. His shoulders stiffened before he relaxed into her greeting.

My lungs seized as if I’d been dunked in ice water. An acidic taste flooded my mouth as I watched their embrace.

The woman released him and turned to me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, extending a manicured hand. “You must be Michaila. I’m Stella Pavlou, Kostas’ fiancée.”

I narrowed my eyes, certain I’d misheard over the hum of the engines. Fiancée?

Stella laughed as though my confusion was the cutest thing ever. “Oh, Kostas. Didn’t you tell her?”

Konstantin’s expression remained neutral. “Before your father proposed this marriage, Stella and I were engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Yes,” he confirmed with infuriating calm. “Once the child is born and our obligations discharged, Stella and I will marry.” He gave her a reassuring glance that pinched something in my chest.

The cabin suddenly felt airless despite its spaciousness. I retreated to a seat across from Andreas.

Stella, apparently allergic to silence, bombarded me with questions about my dress, flowers, and jewelry, demanding to see my ring as though we were besties at a brunch dissecting last night’s hook-up.

“Oh, how lovely,” she said when I reluctantly showed her my band.

She wiggled her own fingers, displaying a diamond that could sink a small boat.

“I told Kostas I didn’t need anything flashy.

But he insisted on this one.” Her tone implied sainthood for such a sacrifice.

“He wanted everyone to know I was taken and his.”

The anger bubbling beneath my skin made my wedding band feel like a shackle. I fought the urge to tell her she could stick her tongue back down my husband’s throat if she’d just stop talking.

“I was telling Kostas last night about classic baby names making a comeback.” Her voice lilted with suggestive familiarity. “You agree with me, darling, don’t you? That a classic old-school Greek name would be ideal for your baby despite them not being fully Greek?”

I’d spent last night staring at my ceiling, worrying about our child’s future and how to make the most of the marriage. He’d spent it in bed with his real fiancée, picking out baby names for our child. The plane’s ascent couldn’t match the sickening drop in my stomach.

The leather seat beneath me seemed to burn through the thin silk of my dress as my body tensed. The familiar tightness that had plagued me throughout my divorce returned, squeezing my chest until each breath became deliberate work.

“My husband and I are perfectly capable of naming our children without outside interference, thank you.” I met his eyes directly, daring him to challenge me.

Stella’s perfectly groomed brows knitted together. “Children? I thought only one child was required?” She turned to Konstantin. “Wasn’t that so, darling?”

“Technically, yes. But multiples run in my family.” The lie slid from my lips smooth as silk, and satisfaction warmed me at her dismay.

The humiliation of being the only person on this plane who hadn’t known about Stella’s existence made me feel like the na?ve fool I’d promised myself I’d never be again after Josh. I needed to escape from her voice, from his betrayal by omission and from the churning in my stomach.

I reached for the amenity kit, located a sleeping pill, and washed it down with a sip of water. Pulling the silk eye mask over my face, I shut out the newlywed nightmare unfolding around me.

As consciousness began to fade, I reminded myself this was just business. My heart wasn’t involved. So why did it feel like it was bruising?

As our convoy pulled away from the private airfield, I leaned toward the window, seeking the markers that had always told me I was back in my second homeland.

There they were—the particular quality of golden light that seemed to outline every building in liquid amber; the riot of bougainvillea cascading over weathered stone walls; the occasional glimpse of ancient marble between modern structures.

I’d forgotten how the city smelled different from this vantage point. Less of the sea and more of the mountains, with hints of wood smoke and the sweet scent of ripening fruit from roadside stands.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

The question had been burning in my throat since the moment the blonde had launched herself at him. Now, as our car wound through the Athenian hills toward what would be my temporary home, I finally spoke it aloud.

Konstantin’s profile remained impassive. “It wasn’t relevant to our arrangement.”

“Not relevant?” I turned from the window, incredulous. “Finding out your husband has a fiancée waiting in the wings seems pretty damn relevant.”

“Our marriage is temporary. My relationship with Stella will resume once our obligations are fulfilled.”

The casual way he referenced our baby made my skin crawl. I crossed my arms and returned my gaze to the passing landscape, watching olive groves give way to upscale neighborhoods.

After we landed in Athens, Stella had thrown a hissy fit when told she wouldn’t ride with us to Christakis Villa. Her sunny composure had cracked when Konstantin insisted she return to her condo instead. The memory brought a tiny spark of satisfaction.

“A heads-up would have been decent,” I finally added, turning to him. “Before she stuck her tongue down your throat right in front of me.”

His jaw tightened as he glanced at me. “Our marriage was a business transaction. I assumed personal entanglements were irrelevant.”

The car turned onto a private drive lined with cypress trees. I inhaled deeply, trying to collect my thoughts as Christakis Villa came into view. Despite my irritation, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sprawling mansion gleaming white against the sea.

I turned away from the window, studying his profile. His shoulders had tensed since our discussion began, though his expression remained carefully neutral.

“Just so you know,” I said, breaking the heavy silence, “we’re conceiving this child through IUI, rather than intercourse.”

His thick, dark brows came together, creating a single line above those penetrating eyes. He shifted in his seat to face me more directly. “IUI...?”

“Intrauterine insemination,” I clarified, enjoying his discomfort. “It’s a simple medical procedure in which sperm is inserted directly into a woman’s uterus. No sex required.”

“Artificial insemination?” The words emerged stiffly, as though each syllable pained him.

“Exactly.”

The look of surprise transforming his face was worth framing, especially when followed by unmistakable discomfort. “So I would have to provide a... sample?”

“Yup.”

“At a clinic, with dozens of people walking up and down just outside the door.”

“Uh-huh.” My smile was malicious. “Maybe you could get Stella to help you.”

The muscle in his jaw flexed as he leaned back in his seat. “Sounds rather impersonal. Clinical. It almost feels wrong to reduce the conception of a child to a procedure on par with an appendectomy.”

I’d always imagined conceiving my child would be an intimate moment with someone I loved, not a scheduled appointment. But many people created beautiful families this way by choice or necessity.

The path to parenthood wasn’t what mattered. It was the love waiting at the end.

“I won’t sleep with another woman’s fiancé, no matter the circumstances. That’s the only way I’m doing this.”

His frown deepened, and I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he simply nodded once and relapsed into a brooding silence.

As we passed through the wrought-iron gates bearing the Christakis name, I shifted my attention to the approaching estate. The driveway curved elegantly through manicured gardens, where fountains sparkled in the afternoon light.

After several minutes of silence, I tucked a braid behind my ear and ventured, “Who lives here besides you?”

“My mother, Domna, lives in the east wing.” He gestured toward one side of the sprawling Mediterranean villa. “My brothers Aristides and Dimitrios and I are in the main house, along with Aristides’ son Santo.”

“You are fond of Santo,” I observed, noting how his voice softened.

For the first time, a genuine smile transformed his face. “He’s twenty-three, and a spoiled little shit.” Affection warmed his voice. “You’ll like him. Everyone does.”

I nodded, unsurprised by the multigenerational living arrangement. I lived with my parents until my marriage, and Simone still lived with daddy.

“My father’s sister, Irida, also resides here.”

As we pulled up to the grand entrance, I asked, “Anyone else?”

“My aunt’s son, Matthaios. He usually lives here too, but he’s currently abroad.” Something I couldn’t interpret flickered across his face. The car came to a stop before I could probe further.

“Ready to meet the family?” Konstantin asked.

I squared my shoulders and nodded.