Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(75)

Marriage?

More like a prison sentence.

By the time she got up to her room, her hands were shaking. She pulled her laptop off her desk and settled onto her bed. Slowly, she typed Dion Kourakis’s name into Google. The image that popped up made her blink. Her father hadn’t been joking. He wasn’t a disgusting old pig by any stretch.

“Well, he might still be a pig,” she muttered to herself. “But he’s not an old one.”

In fact, the man who stared back at her could have been cut right out of a GQ fashion shoot. Hair like polished onyx, deep olive skin, and a sexy five o’clock shadow. Dark, mysterious eyes and full lips that had the most subtle quirk, like he was laughing at a private joke.

He was hot. Superhot, even. But that didn’t change things.

According to Wikipedia, Dion Kourakis was thirty-one and a self-made billionaire. Born and raised in Corfu, Greece. He gave to charity on the regular and was well-known in the community for his company’s program to provide underprivileged residents with employment opportunities.

Okay, so he was superhot and a good guy.

Grumbling, Sophia folded her arms across her chest. That still didn’t change things. The last thing she wanted was to go from being under the control of one domineering man to another. And a man who was willing to marry someone for the sake of a business deal was bound to be domineering, right? Never mind that he seemed like a good guy. Was it worth the risk?

Sophia groaned. Didn’t anyone marry for love anymore? Was that such a ridiculous notion? She wanted the kind of marriage that was founded on things like trust and mutual respect, on genuine feelings and equality. And, of course, on love.

Because, as much as she adored her mother, she’d be damned if she followed in her footsteps. No way would Sophia end up tied to a man who didn’t view her as an equal, least of all one who seemed willing to use her as a pawn for the sake of money. Not. Going. To. Happen.

Resolved to find some flaw in the man, Sophia scrolled through page after page on Google Images of Dion in an array of well-tailored suits, attending charity balls, cocktail parties, ribbon cuttings, and premieres. Even a shot of him shaking the hand of someone in royal dress.

In the images were a rotating bevy of stylish dark-haired women on his arm. Okay. Clearly, he had a type. Sophia frowned at the reflection staring back at her from her vanity mirror. Her very brunette reflection. Darn it.

She lifted her chin. Whether she was his type or not, a man like Dion would need a wife befitting of hanging off his arm. A wife who would be okay with the spotlight, with having her photo taken, and who could dress well and shine beside him. A woman who could look pretty but stay quiet.

In other words, the woman she was raised to be, with her ability to assume an outwardly demure personality and her closet full of stylish clothes. Problem was, she didn’t want to be that woman any longer.

And she certainly didn’t want a man who felt entitled to those things.

But it wasn’t like he knew her. She could be anyone…

Sophia gasped as the solution hit her like a bolt of lightning. She wouldn’t have to refuse her father’s wishes if Dion decided he didn’t want to marry her. After all, she couldn’t be blamed if her husband-to-be wasn’t happy with the merchandise. If he rejected her, then she could return home, absolved of her “duties” to her family, without worrying her mother would take the brunt of her defiance.

Then she could get back her plans for building her perfect life. All she wanted was to find a house somewhere quiet, somewhere green, where she could work her own hours, be her own boss, and wake up each morning with a view of nature. Then she could convince her mother to come live with her, and the two of them would be happy and free forever.

Guilt immediately curled in her stomach at the thought of lying to this stranger, of deceiving him. But what other option did she have? Her father would never bend, never waver. His word was final…always. If she showed any ounce of resistance, he’d march her onto the damn plane and buckle her into the seat himself. Or worse, fly to Greece with her.

And really, wasn’t this for Dion’s benefit, too? He seemed like a decent guy. Upstanding. A good member of his community.

He shouldn’t be steamrolled into a loveless marriage, either.

That meant none of her beautiful clothing or fancy shoes or her perfect-wife personality would be coming to Corfu with her. If Cinderella had ditched her rags to go catch a prince, then Sophia would simply do the opposite.

…