Wedding Night with a Stranger by Anna Cleary

websites, people needed as much documentation to prove their credentials and experience here as they did in Athens, and hers were all behind her in Naxos.
    In desperation, she considered emailing Thea with an urgent request to send on her documents, then dismissed the idea. How likely was Thea to help her?
    She slumped back in the chair. The naivety of her plans homed in on her. She knew one definite person in Australia, and here she was, rushing to get as far away from him as quickly as possible.
    She needed help, but there was no way she could surrender to her uncle’s plan by begging Sebastian for it. Her pride smarted fiercely at the thought of that. Unless she could think of some way to re-open negotiations without losing face…
    One thing she’d learned during the Demetri crisis was that, whatever the fallout, she had to be true to herself. No matter how desperate she was, there was no way she would go on her knees to Sebastian in the role of victim.
    And after that call last night, it was clear what he would think if she went to him. If he believed she was attracted to him…
    Oh, please. Who did she think she was kidding? He believed it, all right. He knew it. Why else would he have said those things? He’d practically spelled it out.
    If she went to him and told him she was without money, she’d have no bargaining power. What would he do—write her a cheque? She couldn’t accept that. Anyway, he’d be much more likely to take her home with him. He’d be throwing her into his bed and having his way with her in no time, with no ring on her finger.
    She’d be in an even worse position than a mail-order bride, reduced to being a casual fling, with no long-term security, her faith and upbringing betrayed, her conscience on fire for the rest of her life.
    For the thousandth time the prospect of her own money sitting there in some solicitor’s trust fund glowed in her mind with frustrating allure. If only she could get her hands on it. Even if it only amounted to a few thousand dollars, from where she stood now it would look like security.
    She tried not to panic, but she knew she’d have to be quick. If she was in Sydney for long, last night had shown her how rapidly she’d eat up her little fund of money out of pure ignorance of the cost of ordinary things. Even when she’d been working in Athens, her flat and household expenses, including the domestic staff, had all been paid by her uncle.
    She was green, that was her trouble. But no way was she a useless hothouse flower, as the tabloids had painted her, with no useful knowledge of the world except how to dress and how to look at a painting. Her aunt and uncle had seen her job as a nice little way to fill in time while she waited for her real purpose in life to be established, but she’d loved her career and taken it seriously. She’d run the acquisitions department at the gallery like clockwork until the scandal had caused her sacking. One rude assistant had described her as the fairy-floss tyrant.
    Anyway, she could run a household and manage a staff of eleven, more if required. Thea had done her best to shape her as a potential wife, making certain she could cook, even if it wasn’t very likely she would ever have to on a regular basis. And she was a fast learner. Some men found her attractive, even if Demetri didn’t. Some even admired her.
    Her uncle had often laughed at how she made every personal decision with her heart and not her head. She’d accepted his analysis with pride, preferring to be described as a passionate idealist than as some ruthless, calculating machine of a woman.But it was clear that if she was to survive, this time she would have to dredge up her hard-headed negotiating skills.
    Somehow, despite her attraction to Sebastian Nikosto, she would need to bargain with him as coolly and dispassionately as ever her uncle had.
    She stared unseeing at the computer screen, then slumped forward with her face in her hands.
    If only she