The Greek's Green Card Bride - Holly Rayner

Chapter 1

Dimitris

Dimitris Atheos strode through the lobby of the US State Department, pushed through the revolving glass doors, and took out his phone.

He blinked against the blinding early afternoon light and wished for his sunglasses, which he’d left in his hotel room. After hitting the “call” button on his phone’s screen, he waited for his lawyer to pick up.

He could hear wind and waves on the other end of the line when the call connected.

“Dimitris!” Stavros said happily. “How did the meeting go?”

Dimitris smiled at the sound of his lawyer’s voice. At sixty-six, Stavros was thirty years older than him, and though Dimitris tried to keep the relationship professional, he couldn’t deny that Stavros had become sort of a father figure over the years.

Before Dimitris could answer, Stavros went on. “I’ve been thinking about you! I said to myself, ‘the meeting started mid-morning, so the boy should be out by now.’ I was worried about what was holding you up. Did they—”

Wind whipped over the phone speaker on Stavros’s end, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Dimitris waited for the wind to die down, and then said, “It was grueling, Stavros. Five hours in a stuffy room.” He loosened his tie and began the trek down the wide marble staircase that cascaded from the Department of State’s massive front facade. “But I’m interrupting. Are you out with Katerina?”

“Yes, and the kids and granddaughter. Took the boat out to the bay. Wind’s picked up since we came out, but it’s a beautiful night… You’re not interrupting, Dimitris. The meeting has been on my mind all afternoon. Five hours, hm?”

Dimitris could picture his white-haired, tanned friend out on his yacht, surrounded by his family. Katerina, his wife, was a few years younger than Stavros, and just as fit and vibrant as her husband. They had several children and a handful of grandkids. Dimitris had been out on their yacht more than a few times, and he could imagine the feel of the sea breeze on his face and the fading warmth of the evening sun as it set. Though Dimitris loved to travel, it was hard to find a place that compared in beauty and natural wonder to his home, Athens, Greece.

“Five hours. Nonstop negotiations,” Dimitris said.

He reached the sidewalk and slowed to a stop. Though it was September, and he’d expected some hints of autumn in the air in Washington, DC, it felt like the middle of summer. Hot, muggy air pooled over the concrete and pavement. He put up a hand to block the sun and peered down the block. As he did this, a black limo pulled away from the curb a few cars down and moved in his direction.

“Well?” Stavros asked, eager for more details.

Dimitris smiled again. He felt the excitement he’d been holding back during the long, tense meeting begin to return. “They liked my product. They said it’s leagues better than others they’ve tested. They’re ready to buy!”

He felt flooded with energy as he said this. A contract with the US government was big news, and he’d been dreaming of the possibility for years.

He felt confident that the deal would push his company, which manufactured parts used in rockets, to the very top of the global market. Atheos Propulsions Systems was already successful, but that didn’t stop Dimitris from wanting to grow even more. Now it looked as though his dream was going to come true.

“Dimitris, that’s fantastic!” Stavros said happily. “Well done!” There was a muffled, scratchy sound on the other end of the line as Stavros held the phone against his chest. His voice became distant as he called out, “Katerina, it’s Dimitris! Yes, yes, he’s still abroad. He just signed a contract with the US government!”

When Stavros came back on the line, Dimitris spoke up.

“They didn’t sign anything yet,” he said. “There’s some paperwork to sort through first.”

A whole freaking stack of it, he thought, recalling how tall the pile of paperwork had been on the polished mahogany table in the meeting room.

He walked up to the limo, which was now waiting at the curb right in front of him. The driver hopped out to open the back door. Dimitris’s assistant, Anna, a serious and efficient woman in her fifties, was already seated in the back with her laptop out in front of her, her phone to one ear.

Rather than slide into the seat facing her, Dimitris turned and looked up into the cloudless blue sky. The sun beat down on the city. Around him, men and