The Russian's Furious Fiancee

Chapter 1

“We have the most eligible candidates ready for your review, sir,” Joan Bezzel said to the tall, handsome man striding into the luxurious office. She sat up straighter, letting the hem of her skirt ride up just a little bit higher as the man glanced in her direction. If she were twenty years younger, she might have put herself into the list of candidates, she thought. Of all the clients who had sought out her services, this one was definitely the dishiest.

Well, maybe not, she corrected as the man sat down across from her. She might want a man who had a few more emotions. Damon Kelopatros was tall, handsome and sinfully wealthy, but he was one of the coldest men she’d ever met. His Russian heritage was definitely apparent in his directness and cold, emotionless determination. He was going about this whole business with a bit too much logic, in her opinion. And she’d seen a lot! Most of her clients wanted to at least meet the eligible women before making a decision on which would be their wife. Mr. Kelopatros was coolly logical, coldly calculating and hadn’t met a single candidate. And this was their final meeting.

“What do you have for me?” Damon Kelopatros barely glanced at the team sitting at the polished conference room table. This was a business meeting and he didn’t have time for niceties. As far as he was concerned, he was paying Ms. Bezzel a large fee in order to find him the perfect wife and he wanted the business concluded as soon as possible so he could move on to his next acquisition.

Joan efficiently pushed the files forward, head shots of each candidate pinned on top of each folder since appearance was always what people noticed first. And most candidates were eliminated on that aspect as well so she had learned over the years to just get that out of the way first. “We have five candidates for your inspection. All of them have been researched by my team and all are single, with no significant prior relationships or children from other relationships, all have impeccable backgrounds and have been raised in families that understand your business needs.”

Damon nodded, laying out the five files so that he could view the pictures together. Joan had done an excellent job of sticking to his personal preferences he noted. All were physically acceptable candidates with well styled hair and good skin. He quickly read through their education and current employment positions. “Not this one,” he said, dismissing one woman with a medical degree, “and not this one,” he replied, pushing away another who was a certified public accountant. “I want a woman who is going to help me with my career, Joan. These two will be more focused on their careers than mine.”

Joan quickly tucked the two files away into her briefcase, then calmly settled her hands back in her lap, waiting for other comments. While he surveyed the files, she took a moment to examine the great, forbidding man himself. He certainly was handsome with his black hair cut very short and that dark shadow already forming on his strong jaw. She wondered how much of his terrifying reputation was due to his height which she guessed was around six feet, four inches, maybe even closer to six-five. The man looked down at everyone! Not to mention his yummy physique. She’d seen him still in his exercise clothes one day when she’d come to his house for an early morning meeting and this man was drool worthy with thick muscles everywhere on his tall frame.

His eyes were probably his most interesting characteristic. Well, besides his obscenely large bank balance, she thought with secret relish. Those eyes were almost golden but deeper. Not quite brown, but she couldn’t really come up with an accurate description. Amber perhaps? Not really. They seemed to change depending on his mood. When he’d first walked in, she would have sworn that his eyes were golden but as he looked at the picture of Ms. Fontini, those remarkable eyes seemed to darken to that odd color. Fascinating!

Damon took the next three files and read through the biographies but his eyes kept straying to one picture. It wasn’t that this one was more beautiful, he thought, although she was definitely lovely. There was just something that repeatedly drew his eye. She was exquisite with long, brown hair that was cut into layers that framed her face then her shoulders. In the picture, her grey eyes were laughing at something outside of the picture frame, but her smile struck something inside of him. Her smile made him want to grin, something he rarely did. It was good that she was Greek, living right here in Athens were a great deal of his current business was headquartered. That would make things more convenient he thought.

“This one,” he said and tossed the file of the grey eyed woman into the middle of the table. “You’ll arrange it?” he asked as he stood up, but it wasn’t really a question since he was sure the woman he had hired to find him an acceptable wife would follow his instructions regardless if they were presented as a question. She understood the implied command.

By the time he reached his next meeting, the thought of his upcoming nuptials was already out of his mind. Although he was perfectly agreeable to pay for the wedding, he expected his soon to be fiancée to plan the event without his involvement. He would introduce her to his extremely efficient secretary with instructions to work in the date of ceremony between his already scheduled business meetings.

As he sat down and opened the report on his next discussion, it occurred to him that he probably should have gotten the name of the woman he was going to marry.

Regardless, he had confidence that Joan would deliver a copy of the entire file to his secretary so that he could review the details at a more convenient time.

Chapter 2

Eva Fontini slipped into the satin dress, zipping up the side, then efficiently pulled her hair into an elegant twist at the back of her head, smoothing out the stray curls that defied her fingers. The sapphire blue dress skimmed along her figure, not being too obvious but giving a hint of what might be beneath.

She put on a bit of lipstick, a touch of mascara and then, just because she’d had a busy week, she dabbed some concealer under her eyes to hide the dark circles.

She glanced at her watch and sighed. “Only three hours,” she told herself. In three hours, she’d be free to escape her parents’ party and she could be alone once again. Alone to work on her novel in peace and solitude. And secrecy. She also had some lesson plans to develop, her apartment to clean and several loads of laundry to wash. A party tonight was really the last place she wanted to be, but her parents had requested her presence here tonight so she’d come. Hopefully the evening wouldn’t be too terrible.

As she heard the doorbell ring, indicating the first guests were starting to arrive, she quickly went down the stairs, stepping into place beside her parents just as the servant opened the heavy front door. In another twenty minutes, the dinner party was in full swing with only one person missing. Eva looked around, wondering why she needed to be here tonight. This wasn’t normally her type of party, and her parents had long since stopped requesting her presence at these functions.

Her father had been firm about her attending though, so she’d acquiesced and donned her party shoes. Shoes that were already hurting her feet and she was wishing she could slip on her sneakers before heading to her own apartment tonight.

As the arriving guests dwindled, Eva was free to move about the room. She smiled and greeted each of the guests as she passed, but she wasn’t really interested in talking with any of them. They were friends of her parents and she didn’t feel as if she had anything in common with them.

“You look lovely,” her mother said as she walked through the living room, patting Eva’s shoulder. “Why don’t you have a drink?”

Eva glanced down at her glass filled with seltzer water and lime. “I already have a drink,” she said, biting her tongue with impatience. Her mother lived in a different world. One that alternated between valium and alcohol with sporadic cups of coffee to remain awake. That was not a state in which Eva wanted to exist. As she glanced at her mother’s eyes, she noted the slightly glazed look and knew that her mother had already taken something to ease the tension of the evening. Something in addition to the glass of wine in her hands that was now half empty.

“Nonsense dear. A glass of seltzer water isn’t a drink, it’s a waste of a glass,” she argued, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss seltzer water as superfluous. “Go get a glass of wine at least,” she said, but didn’t wait for a response before moving off to greet another group of guests with a gregarious, if alcohol or valium induced smile.

Eva shook her head at her mother’s chemical dependence and turned away, heading in the opposite direction of the bartender who was mixing drinks in one corner of the formal living room. She’d tried to pull her mother away from that method of coping, even going so far as to ask her father for help, but to no avail. Until her mother wanted out of that kind of cycle, there was nothing Eva could do. Except avoid that same fate herself, she thought with determination. Being the wife of a wealthy man wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It came with a great deal of stress and problems. The competition was fierce among her mother’s peers to be the best hostess, have the most acclaimed house and the highest earning husband. It was a superficial existence. Eva wanted more substance to her life.

She took a seat on one of the ivory brocade sofas and smiled politely to the group around her. She was grateful when they accepted her into their conversation, but discussing the latest art craze wasn’t the most exciting topic.

Trying to look as if she were enjoying the conversation, she smiled politely towards the speaker, but inside, she was completely unaware of what the person was saying. In her mind, she was working out the details of her latest scene in the book she was writing, trying to figure out where she was going to put the next clue or if the murderer was going to escape.

Damon entered the living room and glanced around, his eyes taking it all in with a swift look. The house was acceptable, indicating that Joan’s firm had done their research accurately. This family was wealthy without being ostentatious. Old money, he thought. Good. His own investigation was accurate as well and he found himself congratulating himself on another step towards his ultimate goal. He hadn’t relied simply on Joan’s firm. Never accept only one point of reference, he’d learned over the years.

He didn’t engage with the other guests immediately, wanting to hold back and understand the party’s dynamics. He also wanted to observe the one woman he was interested in, the only reason he was attending this dinner party tonight.

He spotted his quarry across the room and stood back, observing her carefully. She was very attentive, sitting up straight with a lovely profile. She was slender without being too thin which was also good. He didn’t want an eating disorder, but nor did he want a wife who would let herself go as she aged.

She smiled in what seemed like the correct places of the conversation and encouraged others to talk instead of dominating the discussion. He liked that and respected her skill. His future wife would be a social asset and she would have to understand how to make other people feel important and welcome.

With a nod of approval, he moved off to find the woman’s father, ready to be introduced to his future wife.

“Good evening, George,” Damon said to the tall, refined looking gentleman standing in a group of other men sipping scotch.

George turned and looked pleased to see Damon standing beside him. “Good evening,” the older man replied with deference. “It’s certainly a pleasure that you could join us for dinner tonight,” he said and turned to make introductions to the others in the group. Damon knew most of them, having done business with them at one time or another. Several of them gave him veiled angry looks which he ignored. They hadn’t been as vigilant about their business assets and he’d taken advantage of that weakness. He couldn’t fault them for being upset about it but he wasn’t going to lose any sleep over the issue either. Besides, none would dare become blatant about their animosity, at least in his presence. The repercussions of disrespecting Damon Kelopatros meant complete financial and social destruction to anyone who openly defied or disrespected him and they all knew it.

George looked at the taller man by his side and immediately waved to a passing waiter. “Let me get you a drink, and then I’ll introduce you to my daughter. I believe she’s around here somewhere.”

Eva smiled politely, wondering how many times a person could discuss the weather at a party without doing something odd, like breaking out in a crazy singing stunt or jumping from sofa to chair and seeing how many heads she could turn. Eva almost laughed out loud at that last thought, knowing she’d never do anything so insane, but it kept the smile on her face.

She was on her fourth weather conversation and yes, the weather was abnormally warm for this time of the year and no, rain wasn’t expected this week, and so on and so on. She reached for her glass of seltzer water and took a long sip, relishing the cold as it slid down her throat. The bubbles at least gave her mind something to focus on, something that was more stimulating than the conversation.