“Furthermore,” she went on, really hitting her stride, “marriage is a contract between equals, not a favor conferred by one party on the other. Marrying you won’t make me your chattel, Dimitrios, it’ll make me your partner.”
“I agree. I just want you to be sure you can live with my expectations. I settled for less than I wanted with Cecily. I won’t settle again. One failed marriage is enough. I want you to be happy, Brianna, but—”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that in becoming your wife and Poppy’s mother, I’d be gaining far more than I’d be giving up,” she said, torn between understanding and resentment. “Far more, in fact, than I ever dared dream about or hope for. I’ve only ever loved one man, Dimitrios, and that man is you. But if that’s not enough to convince you that I know what I’m getting myself into, then perhaps you’re the one who’s not sure.”
His dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “Oh, I’ve never been more certain of anything my entire life. But I feel obligated to point out that I can be difficult. Some might even say high-handed.”
“How about downright bossy, not to mention arrogant?”
“I’m Greek. It’s the nature of the beast, at least in my case.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“You think you can handle me?”
“About as well as you can handle me, which is to say it’ll be enough of a challenge that life will never be dull.”
At that, he broke into a smile that took her breath away. His gaze softened. Grew dark with emotion. He pushed his chair back from the table so abruptly it crashed to the tiled floor. “Come here, woman,” he ordered, his voice rich as molasses, and hauled her into his arms. “This bossy, arrogant Greek wants to kiss his bride.”
He did. At very great length, and with all the fire and passion she could ask for.
Later that morning as they drove the familiar streets of Kifissia to the clinic, he mentioned that a catering crew would be spending the day at the villa, setting up for tomorrow’s event.
She laughed. “You mean to say Erika and Alexio are going to let strangers run loose all over the place?”
“They oversee everything, but it’s too big an affair for them to manage by themselves. To give them a break, we’ll have dinner in Rafina tonight.”
“Why?” she objected. “I don’t mind cooking, and I’m happy to spend a quiet evening at home with you.”
“That’s the whole point. It won’t be quiet, and the kitchen will be off-limits.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Well, just for the record, you don’t have to wine and dine me every night of the week.”
He grimaced slightly. “Keep reminding me of that, will you? It’s not something I’m used to.”
“Cecily needed constant entertainment, I know.”
“Oh, yeah. And if I wasn’t able or willing to provide it, she went looking for someone who was.”
“You never told me who was with her, the night she died.”
“Nobody I knew. They might have been part of her new circle of friends, or perfect strangers. She wasn’t choosy about the company she kept when it came time to party. The police report stated only that there’d been a fire in a night club and she was among those who hadn’t made it out alive, most likely because, as the autopsy showed, she’d consumed enough alcohol to put someone twice her size under the table.”
“It’ll be different with us, Dimitrios. I know most people think a model’s life is all about wearing fabulous clothes and flying first class from one exotic location to another, but in my case at least, the truth is somewhat different. I’m a real homebody at heart, and never more content than when I can shut my front door on the rest of the world, put on a comfortable old pair of sweatpants, and curl up by the fire with a good book.”
“Don’t,” he said roughly. “Don’t make me regret the years I’ve wasted with you any more than I already do.”
“We’ll make up for them. We’ve already started.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I guess we have. But speaking of work, do you have outstanding assignments to complete or contracts you need to honor?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t. Carter managed to get someone else to stand in for the work I had coming up, and we were planning to look over some new offers when I went home, but as far as I’m concerned, the only thing I plan to sign in the near future is the consent form for the transplant. Speaking of which, do you have any idea when we’ll get my test results?”
“Later in the week, according to Noelle. Listen, Brianna, if you turn out to be a match and the transplant goes ahead, you realize what it means, don’t you? You’ll be back on your feet in about a week, but Poppy’s going to take months to recuperate.”
“I know, and I’m sick at the thought of what she faces.”
“Me, too. But what I’m getting at is that it’s taken me a long time to find my way back to you. Will you think me very selfish if I ask you to marry me as soon possible?”
“How soon is that?”
He turned into the clinic forecourt and killed the engine. “You’re not a Greek citizen, so there’ll be some red tape to cut through, but I have connections in all the right places that can speed up the process. I’d say we could set a date for a couple of weeks from now. We’d have to postpone the honeymoon, obviously, but the wedding itself can be anything you want.”
“I want you.” She swiveled in her seat and let her gaze roam over him. She’d never tire of looking at him, she thought dreamily. Nothing time could affect would lessen the perfect bone structure that blessed him with such elegantly sculpted features. Even in old age, he’d be beautiful. “You and Poppy,” she said, curving her hand over his thigh. “All the rest is just window dressing.”
“Stop that,” he scolded, removing her hand and dropping it firmly in her own lap. “I’m a well-respected corporate giant in these parts, not some hormone-driven teenager with an overload of testosterone. Much more temptation of the kind you’re dishing out, though, and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“And here I thought you couldn’t wait to have at me.” She sighed in mock regret. “How long must I wait?”
Choking back a laugh, he glanced at his watch. “About another twelve hours or so, if it’s up to me. But regardless of when, I guarantee it’ll be someplace a lot more comfortable and private than the passenger seat in my car. Now take my mind off your delicious body and tell me what you have planned for the rest of the day.”
“I thought I’d be with you and Poppy.”
“I hoped so, too, but a client I’ve been trying to hook up with for a while now is in Athens just for the day, before he flies to the Orient, which means there’ll be no spiriting you away for a romantic lunch while Poppy takes her nap.”
“In that case, I might go shopping. You’ve probably noticed I didn’t bring many clothes with me. This sort of thing…” She indicated her plain white cotton skirt and silk-screened T-shirt. “The quality might be good, but it was never intended for a high-society garden party, but I saw something in a boutique the other day that would be perfect. I think you’ll like it.”
The look he turned on her made her quiver inside. “Haven’t you figured out yet that what’s inside the clothes is all that matters to me?”
“Still, the last thing I want is to embarrass you in front of your friends and associates.”
“Brianna, mana mou, you couldn’t embarrass me if you tried.” Stopping her as she went to open the car door, he leaned over and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “That’s for Poppy, and this—” he kissed her again, a lovely, hot, open-mouthed kiss that sent shock waves of delight shimmering all the way to the soles of her feet “—is for you. Consider it a down payment on what I owe you. Have fun shopping, treat yourself to a nice, relaxed lunch, and I’ll see you later.”
She didn’t immediately go up to Poppy’s room after he left. She went instead to sit by the courtyard fountain, wanting to savor the moment and let the taste
of joy linger on her tongue. How different everything looked through the eyes of a woman in love. The sky reflected a deeper, more intense blue, the flowers a more brilliant palette of scarlet and purple and gold, the lawns a richer shade of emerald. If she was able to make Poppy well again, all truly would be right with the world.
The dress—her dress—was still in the window when she arrived at the boutique just ahead of the siesta hour, but recognizing her from a magazine spread she’d done in Paris earlier in the year, the owner, Elene, was more than happy to hang a Closed sign on the door and accommodate her.
“Thavmasios!” she gushed, rolling her eyes dramatically when Brianna emerged from the fitting room in a swirl of pale roses and fine silk voile. “Not many women have the height and body to carry such an ensemble, but on you, Despinis Connelly, it is perfection.”
Turning slowly before the three-way mirror to get a better view of how she looked from the back, Brianna had to agree. The entire outfit might have been made with her in mind. The draped bodice molded softly to her shoulders and breasts. The skirt fell in graceful folds from its high empire waist almost to her ankles. The hat was nothing less than a work of art. Its wide sweeping brim, anchored to the crown with one large, perfect cream satin rose, imparted a demure air of mystery to her face. Even the high-heeled ivory shoes were the correct size.
“You are pleased?” Elene eyed her anxiously.
“More than you can begin to imagine,” Brianna assured her. “I fell in love with this dress over a week ago, and was afraid it might have sold before I came back. It’s one of a kind, I’m sure.”
“Indeed, yes. Everything you see here is unique. You needn’t concern yourself that you’ll come across a duplicate on someone else. But if you are undecided, I have other designs I can show you.”
“I decided the minute I saw it. It’s perfect for the garden party I’m attending tomorrow. But I would like to look at a few other things, in particular something suitable for evening. Next weekend, I’m also going to the Rosegarth Clinic fund-raising gala. Perhaps you know of it?”
Elene nodded energetically. “Everybody in Athens knows of it, and you’re right, it is a very chic, sophisticated affair. I have had a steady stream of clients coming here, hoping to find just the right gown. Please slip into a kimono, make yourself comfortable, and enjoy a glass of champagne while I bring out a few items for your consideration.”
Some forty minutes later, Brianna climbed into a taxi, loaded down with an assortment of gorgeous items tenderly wrapped in tissue paper and secured with ribbon in shiny black shopping bags and boxes bearing the boutique’s discreet silver logo. She had her evening gown, her garden party outfit, a pair of satin dancing shoes, two other dinner dresses she hadn’t been able to resist, and a selection of delicious lingerie lavishly trimmed in French lace.
Dimitrios showed up at the clinic soon after she returned. For an hour or more, they played with Poppy, helping her assemble the brightly colored plastic inter-locking building blocks Brianna had found in the toy shop.
After her evening meal, they followed the usual bedtime story ritual. Not until she was asleep for the night did they leave, a heartrending experience that never grew any easier, no matter how often they did it. She was so little, so helpless, so trusting, with no idea of the ordeal awaiting her if the transplant went ahead. And if it didn’t, if Brianna turned out not to be a suitable donor…well, that just didn’t bear thinking about.
“The day I walk out of this place with Poppy in my arms, we’re going to celebrate for a week,” Dimitrios vowed, with a last, anguished glance at his daughter’s sweet face.
“It’s going to happen,” Brianna promised, sharing his pain. “And I’ll be right there beside you when it does.”
He gripped her hand so tightly she winced. “I’m counting on it, sweetheart, more than you can begin to know.”
They collected her purchases from the lobby where she’d left them and headed out to the car. “I take it you found what you were looking for,” he observed dryly, loading the bags and boxes into the trunk and making an obvious effort to shake off his black mood. “As a matter of interest, did you leave any merchandise for the next customer, or have you bought out the entire shop?”
“I bought what I deemed to be necessary. I’ll leave you to decide if I made the right choices.”
“Heaven help me, I’m marrying a clothes horse,” he moaned.
“Yes, you are,” she said cheerfully. “But you knew that when you asked me to be your wife.”
That night, he took her for dinner to the Rafina Yacht Club where his fourteen-meter sloop was moored, and the first part of the evening was nothing less than idyllic. They sat at a table by the window and sipped champagne by candlelight. Outside, the moon carved a rippled path over the water and tipped the tall masts of the sailboats with silver.
Brianna wore one of her new outfits, a deep-purple knit cotton dress cut along straight, simple lines. She accessorized it with silver stud earrings, a narrow silver bracelet, her heeled black sandals and a black clutch purse. Dimitrios, as always, was immaculate in dove-gray Armani trousers, white shirt and navy blazer.
“I’ll take you sailing one of these days, when things settle down a bit,” he promised. “As they presently stand, though, I’d just as soon be on dry land and able to get to the clinic in a hurry if I need to.”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I understand perfectly.”
“We’ll have a good life, Brianna. You won’t regret marrying me.”
And that was when the evening fell apart. An older couple, passing by on their way to join a large party at the next table, recognized his voice and stopped. “Dimitrios?” the woman said.
In less time than it took to blink, all the warmth and animation in his face drained away. “Hermione,” he returned stiffly, half-rising to his feet in a reluctant show of courtesy. “Mihalis,” he added, acknowledging the man with a nod so brief, he might as well not have bothered.
“Yios.” The man’s eyes, black as coal but with none of its inherent propensity for warmth, skimmed over Brianna. Switching to heavily accented English, he said, “Did I just hear you say you’re getting married again?”
“That’s right.”
“And this is your future wife?”
“Right again.”
“So history repeats itself, right down to an exact replica of the original bride. We had heard Cecily’s twin was in town and now we know why. Let’s hope you don’t drive her to an early grave, as well.”
Dimitrios grew so forbiddingly still, he might have been turned to stone. The woman, Hermione, however, let out a shocked, “Mihalis!”
Mihalis silenced her with a quelling glare and turned a cheerless smile on Brianna. “Our deepest sympathies, my dear, and all the luck in the world. I’m afraid you’re going to need it.” Then, overriding his companion’s visible distress, he led her away.
Unmoving, Dimitrios watched them leave, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes stormy, his face the color of old parchment except for two faint strips of color riding his high cheekbones, and his entire body vibrating with rage.
“Dimitrios,” Brianna whispered urgently, “who were those people?”
Very slowly he uncurled his fingers, expelled a long breath and resumed his seat. He raised his eyes to hers.
“My parents,” he said.
Chapter 8
He’d shocked her, as he’d known he would. Her lovely mouth fell open before she could bring it under control and press it closed again. “Your parents? Dimitrios, you told me they were dead!”
“No,” he said. “I told you I have no family but Poppy, and nor do I.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. You just said that man is your father.”
“A biological error on his part, I’m sure.”
“He spoke as if he hates you!”
“That’s because he does.”
“But if he’s your father! And what about you
r poor mother…?” Eyes clouded with dismay, she fumbled for her water glass. “I thought she was going to burst into tears.”
“But she didn’t,” he said. “She behaved exactly as she’s always behaved around him. Like a downtrodden wife with no right to her own opinions or feelings. I can only suppose she enjoys being molded to the underside of his heel. Eat your fish, Brianna. It’s growing cold.”
She pushed her plate aside, the grilled red mullet barely touched. “I’ve just lost my appetite.”
“Would you like to order something else? Dessert, perhaps? They make a wonderful almond brandy cake here.”
“No. I’d like you to explain what just happened.”
“I’d have thought that was self-evident.”
“Stop stonewalling, Dimitrios,” she snapped, displaying exactly the kind of fire and spirit his mother had never dared fling at his father. “I’m not some stranger poking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, I’m the woman you say you want as your wife, and if that’s the case, I deserve to know what I’m letting myself in for.”
She was right, of course. An explanation wasn’t just in order, it was overdue, and better she hear it from him than someone else. “Endaxi. Okay.” Abandoning his own meal—he’d lost his taste for his grilled octopus, too. His father tended to have that effect on people—he said, “How about coffee and brandy first?”
“Coffee would be nice, but I’ll pass on the brandy. You go ahead, though.”
He waited until they’d been served, and rolled a mouthful of the very excellent Metaxa Golden Reserve over his palate to erase the lingering aftereffects of his father. “So what would you like to know?”
“Everything,” she said promptly.
“Well, you’re already aware, of course, that I’m filthy rich.”
“Not that it matters to me one way or the other,” she said dryly, “but yes, I have noticed.”
“So has Mihalis. And that’s the problem.”
“He didn’t look to me as if he’s suffering any. The diamond in his pinky ring just about blinded me.”
The Giannakis Bride Page 9