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Kostas's Convenient Bride: Kostas's Convenient Bride / Desert Prince's Stolen Bride
Kostas's Convenient Bride: Kostas's Convenient Bride / Desert Prince's Stolen Bride
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Kostas's Convenient Bride: Kostas's Convenient Bride / Desert Prince's Stolen Bride

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(#u89921092-0748-5178-aaca-d0e4c0453361)CHAPTER SIX (#u89921092-0748-5178-aaca-d0e4c0453361)

DESPITE THE AMAZING scenery and the fascinating narration, the rest of the cruise passed in a blur for Kayla.

Andreas never let up on his affectionate touching, eliciting a reaction in her body she did her best to ignore. Because the longer it went on, the more convinced she was that she had to tell him no.

No sex. No last night together before he moved on to marry someone else.

“Do you want lunch?” he asked as they were led to early disembarkation ahead of the other passengers.

She was about to answer in the negative when her stomach growled.

He smiled. “It seems you do.”

“Let me guess. You’ve already got reservations.”

“Naturally.”

There was no car waiting for them, but a pedicab driver stepped forward. “Mr. Kostas?”

Andreas nodded.

“This way.” The man indicated a newer cab with red leather seats and a motorized bicycle attached.

“We’re taking a pedicab?” Kayla asked.

“I thought you would enjoy the experience.” Andreas handed her up into the cab, for all the world like they were on a date.

Not that he ever treated her with a lack of courtesy, but things were feeling distinctly personal and guy-girl in the guy-expecting-sex-at-the-end-of-the-date kind of way.

The pedicab driver started peddling, weaving in and out of traffic in a truly alarming way.

Kayla gasped at a close call and Andreas took her hand. “It is all right, pethi mou.”

“Greek endearments? Really?” He was pulling out all the stops.

Andreas laced their fingers. “This is one of the company’s best drivers. I made sure of it.”

“I have been driving cab here for two years,” the man said with a slight Eastern European accent.

Kayla asked about it and learned he was from a small village in Russia. He had his engineering degree, but had to take more schooling to qualify for the jobs he wanted here in the States.

Kayla was fascinated and asked more questions until Andreas interrupted, clearly annoyed. “I believe you know enough of his life story.”

“I do not mind your lady’s interest, Mr. Kostas.”

But for some reason Andreas did. It was almost as if he was jealous, which Kayla knew was ludicrous. He was not the jealous type.

“We should be at the restaurant soon,” Andreas said to her, ignoring the cabbie’s comment.

Kayla frowned. “Don’t be rude, Andreas. That is not like you.”

Which was not strictly true. He could actually be really rude when he wanted, but he tended not to be impolite to people in a position like the cabbie’s. Andreas didn’t throw his weight around with what his family might consider the servant class. He’d seen enough of that living in Greece, he’d confided to her once.

“I will tip him extra if that will make you happy,” Andreas replied grumpily.

She frowned. “You are being crass.”

“Nothing I say will please you, but you hang on his every word.” Oh, her ex-lover sounded seriously annoyed.

“I already know your history,” she tried to explain.

“So, now I bore you?”

Oh, man. He was determined to take offense, wasn’t he? “That is not what I said.”

The cabbie coughed in a way that sounded suspiciously like he was covering a laugh.

Andreas gave him a suspicious look and Kayla knew things were going to go downhill fast if she didn’t do something.

“What restaurant are we going to?” she asked with desperate enthusiasm. “Is it another tourist attraction?”

“Not exactly.” Andreas turned his attention full on her.

She smiled up at him.

“I know when you’re faking your smiles, you know that, right?” he asked with a clear frown.

She rolled her eyes. “Give me points for trying and tell me about the restaurant.”

“I want your smiles to be real when they are pointed in my direction.”

“I cannot guarantee that.”

“That is not acceptable to me.”

“Get over it.”

“I will not get over it. You will stop giving me those fake smiles, Kayla. Save them for other people.”

“Andreas, you are not being reasonable.”

“I am eminently reasonable.”

She laughed. Loudly. She could not help herself. “I’m sure that’s exactly what Jacob thinks.”

“Jacob has no place in this discussion.”

“You do not get to tell me to just forget about someone like he never existed.”

“Watch me.”

“Watch me ignore you.”

This time the cabbie’s coughing could not hide his laughter.

Andreas glared at the hapless man and Kayla had never been as happy to arrive at her destination. The pedicab came to a stop in front of one of New York’s many tall buildings, the walls seemingly made of glass.

“You will love the view at this place. Men, they take their women here to impress them,” the cabbie said to her as he turned around to them.

Andreas grunted. It could have been agreement. It could have been Mind your own business.

“I’m sure you are right. Andreas is very good at guessing what I’ll like.” Except when it came to selling their company and uprooting her one certain sense of security.

* * *

The restaurant turned out to be on an upper floor with a view every bit as amazing as the cabbie had implied. Designed with the feel of Asian-modern fusion, the waitstaff were all dressed in crisp black and white and offered the kind of service found in only the most elite dining rooms.

They were perfectly solicitous, making sure she and Andreas had everything they needed. Kayla got the feeling that if they’d asked for something completely outside the restaurant’s purview, the smart maître d’ would have made it happen. The food was fantastic.

Andreas did his best to be an entertaining companion and that was doing nothing for Kayla’s determination to tell him no about the sex thing.

At one point she glared at him. “Would you just stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Being so nice.”

“You do not want me to be nice to you?” His brilliant green eyes widened with disbelief.

“No.” She let out a huff of frustration when his whole body got into the incredulity thing. “I know what you want and the answer is no.”

“Do not be so sure on either count, pethi mou.”

“Stop with the Greek endearments too. They aren’t going to work.”

“Work at what precisely?” he teased, his eyes glinting with devilment.

She humphed at him. “Whatever your plans are for later.”

“I assure you, you will like my plans.”

“You always think that. You are not always right.” The past forty-eight hours should attest to that definitively.

“I am almost always right.” The humor was there in his voice, right under the surface.

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Maybe a little. Relax, Kayla. You are perfectly safe in this nice restaurant.”

“It is a nice place. Very nice. It’s a date kind of place, or the kind of place you take a client you want to impress. I’m neither.” Both of them needed the reminder. “I’m not even sure how you got reservations on such short notice.”

“Maybe you are simply a woman I care about, whom I would also like to impress, hmm?” he said, ignoring her comment about the reservations.

But that was a real thing, so he had to have exerted some kind of influence to get them. It made her feel more special than she wanted to. “Right. The day you care about impressing me, I’m going to eat my straw walking hat for breakfast with hot sauce.”

“I hope you like hot sauce because I have always cared about impressing you.”

“Don’t be dumb, of course you don’t.”

“You are the only living person I do.”

“That’s... I...” She just didn’t believe it.

“You know I do not care if I impress my Greek family.”

“And yet you have this elaborate plan designed to prove to them how great you are.”

“Or rather how much I do not need them.” He said it like she should know this. She supposed he’d said it often enough.

She shrugged. She simply didn’t believe him.

He raised his brows. “Who else do I care to impress?”

“Your future wife? Genevieve? Other billionaires? I don’t know.”

“None of the above.”

“Then why would you care what I think?”

“Because you are my friend.”

“You say that like you don’t have any others and we both know that isn’t true.” Well, sort of. He wasn’t a social guy.

Andreas Kostas was focused on his goals.

“Acquaintances, contacts, even casual friends maybe,” he listed. “But not people whose opinions will ever matter to me enough to change the course of my life.”

“Mine doesn’t either.”

He looked around them, then at her, his expression belying her words. “And yet here I am, in New York, when I am supposed to be in Portland having a makeover with the matchmaker.”

“I wonder if she’s going to give you hair extensions and a man bun. They’re pretty popular right now.”

Andreas shuddered. “Not going to happen.”

“Oh, I know, she’ll put you in jeans every day and those graphic tees that cling to your muscles and show off all the goodies.”

“You like to tease me.”