She appeared to be about to turn away from him. And he was terrified it would be forever.
“But I’m convinced enough that this—what we have—very well might be that forever, ten children kind of love. I wouldn’t be standing here, putting everything on the line, if I didn’t think so.”
She was quiet for a long time. But at least she was listening.
He heard her thick swallow. Then she whispered, “How do I know that you’re not playing a game? That I’m some sort of emotional, macho trophy to be hung on your wall once everything is said and done?”
“Is that what you think?” His voice was almost as low as hers was.
No. That’s not what she thought. But, like he’d suggested, she was considering all the angles.
“You admitted yourself that you’ve been with a lot of women, Ari. What makes you so convinced that I might be the one? Because I’m about to marry someone else?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This has nothing to do with you. It has to do with me. What I feel when I’m with you…it’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before. And it began before I knew you were about to marry him.”
She couldn’t accuse him of lying there. Their alleyway makeout session had been as out of character for him as he’d suspected was for her.
“So, I guess in a way, you could say that I’m doing this for my own selfish reasons.” He stepped closer to her. “Not because you’re some trophy to be won. But because, damn it, I can’t get enough of you. I want you in my bed. In my life. And the thought of you not being there…makes me want to hit something.”
Ari had never felt so vulnerable, so laid bare before someone else. He didn’t know whether he should throw her over his shoulder and kidnap her, this time for real, or if he should run away as far as he could, as fast as he could.
He heard the patio door open and knew his time had run out. Her mother had given him all the opportunity she was going to. Perhaps, even as he’d realized she’d won Elena over earlier, she could see that he was also having an impact on her.
“Elena,” she said quietly.
Ari’s every muscle seemed to vibrate as he waited for her to choose. “Please,” he said. “Don’t marry him. You have to be wondering if you ever would have slept with me if, indeed, you were destined to marry another man.”
He’d hurt her. He witnessed the cloud of pain in her eyes and wanted to immediately brush it away.
“That, more than anything, should be enough to convince you that he isn’t the man for you.”
“And you think you are.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “I don’t know, Elena. But I would like the chance to find out.”
“Elena,” her mother said again.
Ari desperately hoped that she was going to come to him.
Instead, she looked down at the broken pot again and said, “I’ve…got to go.”
10
SHE LOOKED LIKE A PRINCESS.
She felt like a frog.“You’re beautiful,” Aphrodite said from behind Elena. “Any man would be honored to call you wife.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” she murmured.
Elena caught herself absently plucking at the Swarovski crystals hand sewn into the fitted, sweetheart-cut bodice of the wedding dress. Vera Wang. What bride didn’t dream of getting married in a handmade Vera Wang gown?
Unfortunately, Elena’s dream was proving to be a nightmare.
The past three hours had passed in a blur. A light lunch had been served, but she couldn’t remember eating anything. Bridesmaids had come and gone, cooing over their dresses, her dress and the beauty of the occasion. Her mother had hovered constantly nearby, as if afraid Elena might bolt. And Elena had been fluffed, powdered and waxed, amazed when the makeup artist had worked on even her bare shoulders and arms, clucking when Elena protested as she pointed out that the bride should look perfect on her wedding day.
Elena wanted to shout that she wasn’t perfect.
But she hadn’t. She’d merely moved through the hours in a daze, trying to hold on to a single thought, come to some sort of decision about everything before she found the decision made for her.
Aphrodite smoothed the train and then straightened to meet her gaze in the mirror. Her intense expression made a shiver travel down Elena’s spine. “I am positive that any man would be honored to call you his wife.”
She got the very distinct impression that the plucky maid wasn’t talking about her intended.
Elena’s mother walked back into the room, looking fantastic in her own designer mother-of-the-bride gown. Then Elena’s brother stepped up beside her, and she smiled at him in his custom tux. Given that her late father couldn’t give her away, her brother had accepted the role when Elena had asked.
Her family…
A wet knot lodged in her throat as she looked at the two of them. They were the only constants in her life. And they were both so damned happy that she was marrying Manolis that she wanted to cry for them.
“The car is waiting,” her mother said.
Okay. This was it.
Elena slowly walked toward the door. Everything was arranged. The stefana—bridal crowns—had been delivered to the spectacular blue-domed Greek Orthodox cathedral, along with the rings. The reception was all set up and ready to go on the sweeping patio on a rocky outcropping overlooking the deep blue Aegean Sea.
This was supposed to be the first day of the rest of her life.
Why did she feel like it was her last?
She censored herself. It wasn’t fair to Manolis to think that way. He’d never strong-armed her into anything, unlike Ari, who had essentially kidnapped her last night. He’d treated her with the utmost respect and, yes, love; nothing less.
Guilt swirled with regret in her stomach until she was afraid she’d be sick.
Her mother seemed to sense her hesitation and took her arm, guiding her toward the door. “What a lovely bride you make, agape mou. You make me proud.”
When they emerged into the bright sunlight, Elena wavered, then was buoyed on by her brother offering his arm.
Why did she suddenly get the feeling the three of them were marrying Manolis Philippidis?
“WHERE DO YOU THINK you’re going?” Troy demanded when Ari emerged onto the deck after changing into appropriate bride-stealing attire.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were going to stay in town after lunch so you could attend the wedding?”Troy got up from where he’d been working on his laptop. “Manolis refused to sign the papers until after the wedding,” he said. “And I got the very distinct impression that neither of us is still invited.”
“At least he didn’t say that he wouldn’t sign them.”
“He won’t if this wedding doesn’t go through.”
Ari’s footsteps slowed as he walked toward the ladder.
“I swear, if you don’t turn around now, Ari…”
“What?” he asked. “You’ll kick my ass? Throw me in the Aegean?” He shook his head without turning to look at his brother. “Trust me, Troy, nothing you could dream up can come close to matching the thought of her marrying that man.”
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough to stop her already?”
Ari closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to ignore the way the words stung.
“I mean, if she’s still planning to marry the guy after everything you’ve done, then it’s my guess that, well, she really wants to marry him.”
The stinging ate at him until it created a gaping wound Troy seemed intent on rubbing salt into.
Troy came to stand next to him and together they stared out at the great expanse of sea before them. “I know that you thought this woman was the one for you. Or at least you convinced yourself that she might be. But when is enough enough, Ari? When you’ve destroyed everything and everyone around you?”
“I’m not intentionally hurting anyone.”
“Aren’t you? I say that if you go
to that island now…well, you’ll be doing exactly that.” He felt Troy’s hand on his shoulder. “Including hurting yourself.”
EVERYTHING WAS absolutely perfect. Exactly as it should be on a woman’s wedding day. Wispy white clouds meandered above, the sun was shining, and the blue-domed church emerged a piece of colorful art against the backdrop of sea and sky.
“Are you ready?” her brother asked.Elena hadn’t realized the car had stopped at the church steps until he spoke.
No! she wanted to shout. She was nowhere near ready. She didn’t even know if she wanted to go through with this, much less do it today.
Then she spotted her groom standing in front of the church doors, beaming at her, and she knew a bit of relief.
If there was one thing she’d always been able to do with Manolis, it was talk. He’d listen patiently to her for hours on end as she’d spoken about the grief associated with the death of her father, a passing that had resulted in the death of a way of life for the entire family once they’d discovered the restaurant was in more debt than they could ever hope to repay and that he had no insurance. Funeral costs alone had been an incredible burden, and there had been no way that they could grant her father’s wishes that he be buried alongside his family in Greece. Instead, they’d been forced to have him cremated, and only now had they traveled to Kalamata in the Peloponnese to scatter his ashes at the cemetery where eight generations of Anastasioses had been laid to rest, waiting for his return.
It was Manolis who had stepped in as her father’s oldest friend and helped them through. He’d reached out a hand that they hesitantly took.
And it was Manolis who she had slowly come to love. She’d believed that he’d make a great father. A marvelous husband.
And then came Ari…
Elena ousted him from her mind. He had no place being there.
Alex climbed from the other side of the car and came around to open her door. She hadn’t realized that guests stood off to the sides in their wedding best until they applauded the appearance of the bride. She took Alex’s extended hand and climbed out of the car as gracefully as she could in the meringue-type concoction that floated around her legs. As she stood, facing her groom from across the strategically painted square that separated them, she knew a bit of calm. The same calm she’d felt when he’d first proposed to her three months ago. This was a man who would protect her. He’d make sure she and her family never wanted for anything.
“Are you sure you aren’t replacing your late father with a new one?” Words Ari had spoken during their night together came back to haunt her. “Gratitude isn’t love, Elena.”
She fastened a smile on her face. Yes, it was, she silently answered. Just because she was grateful for all Manolis had done, it was the friendship she shared with him that made her think what they shared could stretch far into the future.
“What about sex?”
Sex was fleeting, she told herself. It took what she and Manolis had to make a marriage last. Like what her mother and father had.
Alex offered his arm and she looked into his handsome face. She placed her hand on her brother’s forearm and slowly began making her way toward her groom.
This was going to work. Last night was a mere blip on the radar. Temporary insanity. Something she would forget. Ari was a fun one-night stand; Manolis was forever.
They grew nearer and her resolve grew stronger.
Until she was near enough to look into Manolis’s eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat at the unfamiliar glint that resided in the brown-green depths. His mouth might be smiling, but it was a mask. Inside he was angry. Very angry.
Elena blinked. She’d never seen him lose his temper. No matter the infraction. He was always easygoing and patient. This glimpse of a different Manolis sent a tremor of uneasiness snaking down her spine.
Alex stepped forward. “I and my family are honored to offer you our sister and daughter,” he said, taking her hand and extending it toward Manolis.
His skin was cold.
That’s the first thing Elena registered.
His grip was too tight.
That was the second.
And for the first time since she’d met him, she knew fear.
“Manolis?” she whispered.
He knew. She’d suspected as much earlier when his bodyguard had been stationed outside her villa. He knew and he wasn’t happy about it. More than that, she was afraid she saw sheer hatred simmering there in his gaze.
Why, then, was he going through with this? Why did he still want to marry her?
That morning she’d accused Ari of pursuing her as some sort of sick game. He wanted her because everyone told him he couldn’t have her. He wanted her because she was set to marry someone else. Not merely just any somebody, but a very powerful one. Surely that would have landed him a special clout in certain circles, even if it also meant that he wouldn’t be getting the contract he and his brother were seeking.
But as she looked at Manolis now, she wondered if she’d hurt him beyond any apology. And that he was going ahead with the wedding merely to prove that he could. To show the man who had challenged his standing that he was the one in power. The one who had control.
Manolis tucked Elena’s hand into his arm and began to open the door to the church.
Elena dug in her heels.
“Manolis, wait,” she whispered.
Her heart beat a dull rhythm in her chest. She was aware of every eye on them both inside and outside the church.
He didn’t deserve this, her mind whispered. She’d betrayed him. She was to blame for the way he was looking at her. It was up to her to make it up to him. And she’d have years to do exactly that.
But what about you? her heart whispered. Was this any way to begin a lifelong union together? Built on such pain? Such anger? Such false pride?
And suddenly, she understood that she couldn’t go ahead with this.
“Elena, come,” Manolis said between clenched teeth.
She stared at him for a long moment, and then she shook her head. “We need to talk.”
He tugged on her hand. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”
“No, Manolis. We need to talk now.”
He didn’t budge, merely stared at her, his anger no longer hidden.
“It’s up to you,” she murmured. “Either we quietly go around to the courtyard together now, smiling, where we can talk. Or I leave.” When his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, she added, “You decide.”
“What is there to talk about, Elena?” he asked, and shrugged as if there was no problem, but even that movement looked stiff and angry. “You betrayed me with another man. I am man enough to accept that. I forgive you. Now come on, let’s get married.”
She squinted at him, trying to reconcile the man in front of her with the man she’d once agreed to marry. “I haven’t asked for your forgiveness,” she said quietly.
The instant the words were out of her mouth, she realized she’d said them in order to provoke a reaction.
And it came in the form of a hard slap across her face.
HE WAS TOO LATE.
The words echoed through Ari’s head as he raced the rented Audi convertible toward the cathedral where the unblessed event was scheduled to take place. He ground the gears as he shifted the manual transmission a little too quickly, his foot a shade off with the clutch.Cars were restricted from a good deal of the island, but since the Philippidis wedding was a large affair, it was being held at a church a little ways away from the cliff dwellings, allowing automobile access and traffic.
He spotted the bride’s car parked in front of the church and his heart nearly stopped in his chest.
God, no…
He squealed to a stop in front of the black Mercedes and half leapt from the car without opening the door. Only then did he notice that Elena hadn’t yet entered the church. Instead, she was standing outside, facing Manolis Philippidis. She held a hand to her cheek, said som
ething to her groom, and then turned and began running toward the car.
Ari’s gaze went back to Manolis, just now seeing that the older man was enraged. And he was now focusing that emotion full force in Ari’s direction.
“Elena!” he called, rushing to her.
She stopped in front of him and looked up, her eyes bright with tears, her cheek red.
“Come on,” he said, motioning toward his rental.
She didn’t say anything for a long moment and appeared to be having difficulty catching her breath. She took in where his car blocked in the Mercedes.
“I don’t want anything to do with either one of you,” she whispered, and then turned in the opposite direction and began running.
Ari stood watching helplessly as the beautiful vision in white moved farther away from him. He didn’t know if her veil had come loose or if she had removed it, but it floated in the air, hovering there long after she was gone.
11
One month later—Washington State, USA
THE REALITIES OF Elena’s wedding day actions manifested themselves in a number of ways. Not the least of which was her family’s quality of life.
Had they really become so dependent on Manolis so fast? After they’d closed the restaurant, her brother had gone to work for Manolis’s Pacific NW headquarters in Seattle. A job he’d lost due to “personnel cutbacks” within a week of their return from Greece. The note for the outstanding balance of the mortgage on her parents’ house had been called due, payment demanded in full within ninety days because Manolis had cosigned for a refinance deal with a better interest rate. And, unbeknownst to Elena, her mother had been receiving a weekly check from the billionaire, whose only interest, he’d said, was to see his best friend’s widow get back on her feet after such a terrible blow. It was a check that no longer arrived.With her brother forced to move back home after his job loss, Elena had to face not only her mother’s scowl every morning, but Alex’s as well.
“Maybe it’s not too late to patch things up,” her mother had repeated so often Elena heard it in her sleep.
Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume III Page 7