Page 6 of Greek's Temporary "I Do"

The priest welcomed the guests in English and began the wedding service, but he could have sworn that he felt Helena’s panic tugging at his senses, inflaming his own frustration that his brother had involved him in such a scheme.

And as the choir began the first of what he hoped was only a few carefully selected hymns, Leo only had one thing on his mind—getting out of this ridiculous situation as quickly as possible—which was why he went through the process of saying what was needed to be said, when it needed to be said.

Honeymoon be damned, the moment this ceremony was over he was done. Out. Back to his apartment in Athens, back to Liassidis Shipping, where several important meetings and events would consume his thoughts. Not the quagmire of chaos that surrounded both Helena and Leander.

The priest gestured for them to enter the vestry, where they would sign the marriage document, and if anyone thought it odd that Leander Liassidis had grasped the hand of his soon-to-be wife and rushed her away from the view of the congregation it was only put down to just how passionately he loved the beautiful Helena Hadden.

CHAPTER TWO

‘DON’T TOUCH ME,’ Helena commanded in a harsh whisper, painfully conscious of the guests not terribly far away, her head swimming and panic crawling across her skin.

‘I’m not,’ Leo growled, his hand hovering near the base of her spine having the same impact as a red-hot poker would have. He turned back to the priest and his parents, following just behind.

‘Parakaló, Father, Mamá, Patéra...would you give us a few minutes? We would like to just take in this beautiful moment.’

This beautiful moment?

Leo’s words tripped around her head and she thought it half a miracle that they couldn’t hear the insincerity dripping off them like poison.

Cora glanced between them and Helena nodded to let her know that it was okay. Helena hadn’t seen as much of Leander’s parents as she would have liked since the showdown between Leo and her mother following the mistake Gwen had made with Liassidis Shipping, and Cora’s concern touched her deeply. But if Helena had even a single hope of figuring out what was going on, and how she was going to fix it, she would have to talk to Leo. Right now.

She watched the priest and Leo’s parents leave the small, ornately decorated room. Turning away from the powerful impact his mere presence had on her, she was confronted with the cloth-covered table—a large book open to display the marriage schedule detailed in beautiful calligraphy. And there, mocking her, were empty spaces waiting for their signatures. No, not theirs, his.

Leander’s.

Without that, she would never be able to access the shares that she needed to save the charity.

Oh, God, what was she going to do?

She spun back to face Leo, taking a step closer than she had intended, her worry, her concern so strong.

‘Where is he?’ she demanded, unable to keep the panic from her voice.

‘How should I know?’ demanded Leo, as if affronted she would even ask that of him.

He peered down at her, apparently uncaring of how close they were standing. And she hated the way her body responded, as if he were the man of her dreams instead of her nightmares. They were almost chest to chest, pressed against the superfine of the dark impeccable wool of his three-piece suit, the pristine white shirt that smelt of cotton and sandalwood, and she fought the temptation to inhale deeply. Because if she did breathe in, her chest would push against his and—

Leo stepped back so suddenly she nearly stumbled forward. Humiliation coursed through her as she regained her equilibrium, turning away from him to take that much needed breath.

‘There must be some mistake,’ she insisted.

‘The only mistake you made, agápi mou, is trusting Leander for even a single second.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ she lashed out, resenting the affectionate moniker that had no place between them.

She leaned back against the table and looked resentfully at the man who was seemingly unaware that he was standing in a sunbeam that picked lovingly over such incredibly handsome features. Helena knew that most people had a hard time telling the Liassidis twins apart, but she had never fallen foul of mistaking one for the other.

It was as if she could sense their personalities as much as what they looked like. Leander was playful, fun, irrepressible to the point of distraction. The week that she, Kate and Leander had just spent together in the lead-up to the wedding had been full of parties and fun, drinking and dancing. They’d been staying at the private island owned by the Liassidis family while his parents were away and she’d sensed absolutely nothing wrong with Leander. No, as always, he’d been his larger than life, gregarious self.

But if Leander was the life of the party, then Leo was the hangover in character form. The painful reminder of the morning-after, of earthly responsibilities and recriminations—that mistakes must be punished and paid for.

And while their features were near perfect symmetry—the thick, raven-dark hair almost wilfully unruly, the patrician nose, the savage cut of cheekbones regularly wept over by models, the closely cut beard that looked insolently stylish and the broad determined forehead—there was a difference.

Leo had always held himself back. He was just that little bit more isolated, that little bit less gregarious than Leander, a trait that had only increased with time and their separation, as if their differences had become more marked.

Because Leander had never impacted her the way Leo did—like her breath had been stolen, like flames heated her skin, like her pulse, her body even, was attached to the snap of his fingers, ready to leap at his whim.

Helena cleared her throat, suddenly painfully aware that she had been staring at him.

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