“I hope not.”
He smiled. “Good. Then you won’t want to break my heart.”
“I doubt if your heart is that easily broken. You have quite a reputation.”
“Ah, that was before I met you. I’ve dreamed about you for a long time.”
Melina laughed.
“I’m serious. When I was a very young man, I used to read about the Lambrou family. You were very rich and I was very poor. I had nothing. We lived from hand to mouth. My father was a stevedore who worked on the docks of Piraeus. I had fourteen brothers and sisters, and we had to fight for everything we wanted.”
In spite of herself, she was touched. “But now you are rich.”
“Yes. Not as rich as I am going to be.”
“What made you rich?”
“Hunger. I was always hungry. I’m still hungry.”
She could read the truth in his eyes. “How did you…how did you get started?”
“Do you really want to know?”
And Melina found herself saying, “I really want to know.”
“When I was seventeen, I went to work for a small oil company in the Middle East. I was not doing very well. One night I had dinner with a young geologist who worked for a large oil company. I ordered a steak that night, and he ordered only soup. I asked him why he didn’t have a steak, and he said it was because he had no back teeth and he couldn’t afford to buy dentures. I gave him fifty dollars to buy new teeth. A month later he telephoned me in the middle of the night to tell me he had just discovered a new oil deposit. He hadn’t told his employer about it yet. In the morning, I started borrowing every cent I could, and by evening I had bought options on all the land around the new discovery. It turned out to be one of the biggest oil deposits in the world.”
Melina was hanging on his every word, fascinated.
“That was the beginning. I needed tankers to ship my oil in, so in time I acquired a fleet. Then a refinery. Then an airline.” He shrugged. “It went on from there.”
It was not until long after they were married that Melina learned that the story about the steak was pure fiction.
Melina Lambrou had had no intention of seeing Constantin Demiris again. But, by a series of carefully arranged coincidences, Demiris invariably managed to appear at the same party, or theater, or charity event, that Melina was attending. And each time, she felt his overpowering magnetism. Beside him, Vassilis Manos seemed—she hated to admit it, even to herself—boring.
Melina Lambrou was fond of the Flemish painters, and when Bruegel’s “Hunters in the Snow” came on the market, before she could purchase it, Constantin Demiris sent it to her as a gift.
Melina was fascinated by his uncanny knowledge of her tastes. “I can’t accept such an expensive gift from you,” she protested.
“Ah, but it’s not a gift. You must pay for it. Dinner with me tonight.”
And she finally agreed. The man was irresistible.
A week later Melina broke off her engagement to Count Manos.
When Melina told her brother the news he was stunned.
“Why, in heaven’s name?” Spyros asked. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to marry Constantin Demiris.”
He was aghast. “You must be crazy. You can’t marry Demiris. He’s a monster. He’ll destroy you. If…”
“You’re wrong about him, Spyros. He’s wonderful. And we’re in love. It’s…”
“You’re in love,” he snapped. “I don’t know what he’s after, but it has nothing to do with love. Do you know what his reputation is with women? He…”
“That’s all in the past, Spyros. I’m going to be his wife.”
And there was nothing he could do to talk his sister out of the wedding.
A month later Melina Lambrou and Constantin Demiris were married.
In the beginning it seemed to be a perfect marriage. Constantin was amusing and attentive. He was an exciting and passionate lover, and he constantly surprised Melina with lavish gifts and trips to exotic places.
On the first night of their honeymoon, he said, “My first wife was never able to give me a child. Now we’ll have many sons.”