Page 14 of Slightly Married
I reached for the amenity kit, located a sleeping pill, and washed it down with a sip of water. Pulling the silk eye maskover 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.