by Lynne Graham
Crystal’s face lit up as though someone had switched on a floodlight inside her and she hugged her daughter in a rare display of physical affection. ‘That’s wonderful, darling! It’ll be a challenge to organise a wedding that fast, but I agree that it would be unwise to wait any longer. Look at what happened to me!’
Tally resisted the temptation to remark that her mother had been the leading light in her own downfall and quietly removed cups from a cupboard to make tea. ‘If Sander does change his mind, I won’t hold it against him. Marriage is a very big step.’
‘So is having a baby. Why should Sander change his mind?’ Crystal demanded sharply as she withdrew a bottle of vodka from another cupboard. ‘No, don’t make me tea. I’m going to celebrate this news with something stronger.’
‘You’ll probably think I’m being stupid but I really don’t want Sander to feel that he has to marry me because I’m pregnant,’ Tally confided in a rush.
‘What does it matter?’ Crystal countered impatiently and then a Cheshire cat grin flashed across her mouth again. ‘Oh, darling, I can’t believe you’ve actually pulled it off!’
Tally’s brow furrowed. ‘Pulled what off?’
‘You’ve caught yourself a multi-millionaire and you’re going to be a respectably married wife. I never got to be a wife!’ her mother pointed out bitterly. ‘I never got the big wedding either, but you’re going to—’
‘Sander doesn’t want a big wedding and he doesn’t want anyone to know about the baby yet,’ Tally cut in uncomfortably, wishing the older woman weren’t quite so impressed by Sander’s wealth but rather touched by her excitement. ‘Mum, I was really shocked when he proposed and I’m worried that he hasn’t really thought it through.’
For an instant, Crystal fell oddly still and veiled her eyes. ‘That’s silly. Why do you always look for problems?’
‘I just don’t think I’m sufficiently beautiful or important enough to marry someone like Sander,’ Tally told her with pained honesty. ‘He’s gorgeous and rich and very successful—’
‘And he’s the father of your child, so you deserve a ring!’ Crystal interrupted forcefully. ‘Why should you struggle for years to bring a kid up on your own?’
‘Lots of other women do.’
‘I want you to have what I never got!’ the older woman declared emotively.
In the days that followed Tally focused on her revision for her final exams and distracted by Sander taking off on a business trip to Brazil and only rarely phoning her, eventually realised in dismay that her mother was living her dream rather than her daughter’s. Once Anatole had been told about the forthcoming nuptials—though not yet about the baby—Tally’s father had confirmed that he would foot all the bills, even though he would not be attending his daughter’s wedding. Crystal hired a top-flight wedding planner and went into action. From that moment on, every bridal extravagance seemed to be in the pipeline, including the appearance of two cousins Tally barely knew to act as bridesmaids in concert with a school friend. In vain did Tally remonstrate with the elaborate arrangements her headstrong parent was making. Even so, it did not occur to her that there might be more widespread repercussions until Sander turned up unannounced at the house the week before the wedding.
‘I didn’t know you were back in London.’ In answer to Binkie’s call, Tally came downstairs. She wished she had known he was coming because she was murderously uncomfortable, greeting him clad in comfortable track pants and a shapeless sweatshirt.
Predictably, Sander looked amazing in a sharply cut navy designer suit and a blue and white striped shirt. His strong jaw line roughened with dark stubble, he trained his dark deep set eyes on her, metallic gold dancing like fiery sparks in his irate gaze, his stunning cheekbones taut below his bronzed skin.
‘What’s wrong?’ Tally prompted instantly, tension gripping her.
‘I believe you had a Save the Date card and a request for a guest list of two hundred people sent to my parents last week—they didn’t even know I was getting married!’ he launched at her in wrathful condemnation. ‘They’ve only just chosen to tell me.’
Tally settled aghast eyes on his lean strong face. ‘You still haven’t told your parents about us?’
In the face of her disbelief, Sander’s lean muscular frame went rigid. ‘It not the sort of announcement you make on the phone. I’m flying home this evening to speak to them.’
‘You should’ve told them the minute we set the date,’ Tally countered defensively, demoralised by his admission that he had yet to discuss his marital plans with his parents. Was he ashamed of her? Or simply trying to forget the fact that he would soon be a married man with a wife and a child on the way?
‘You didn’t warn me that a virtual circus would be kicking off back here in London!’ Sander slung back at her between gritted teeth. ‘I told you I wanted a quiet, quick ceremony. I don’t like superficial show and fuss.’
‘Since you’ve taken absolutely no interest in anything to do with our wedding and have not asked one single question about the arrangements I can’t see why it should matter to you!’ Tally snapped back, the resentments she had squashed for the sake of peace now leaping out to stand toe to toe with his. ‘Do you realise that it’s five days since you even bothered to phone me?’
‘Well, if you think I’m going to start checking in with you all the time like a truant schoolboy you’re in for a big disappointment!’ Sander fired back at her in glowering challenge. ‘Don’t start telling me what I’m supposed to be doing!’
‘Would anyone like coffee?’ Binkie proffered very quietly from the kitchen doorway.
‘Not for me, thank you,’ Sander pronounced stiffly, jerking round to acknowledge the presence of the older woman. ‘I have to get to the office and catch up before I head to Athens, Tally. I doubt if I’ll see you before the wedding now.’
Filled with a disappointment she was determined not to parade for his benefit, Tally folded her arms, her soft pink lips settling into a naturally mutinous pout. ‘I’ll survive.’
‘Tally!’ Binkie pronounced reproachfully as soon as the younger woman had closed the door in Sander’s imperious wake. ‘What’s got into you?’
Tally swallowed hard and veiled her eyes, making no answer. She did not trust herself to speak. Sixth sense was sending streamers of growing apprehension sliding through her but she did not want to acknowledge her secret fears. She did not want to be forced to ask herself whether or not she ought to be marrying a guy as detached from their approaching wedding and from her as Sander currently appeared to be …
Instead, Tally listened to Binkie’s comforting conviction that few men had any patience with bridal extravaganzas, but just at the point when she was tying herself into even deeper mental knots about her bridegroom’s lack of enthusiasm, a special delivery was made.
Taut with lively curiosity, Tally tore open the gift card first to stare down at Sander’s signature before opening the packaging of the small parcel and extracting a jewellery box. She lifted the lid to reveal a glittering diamond ring.
In a daze of surprise, Tally slid it onto her engagement finger and then she phoned Sander, who was already on the way to the airport.
‘Thank you—it’s gorgeous,’ she told him truthfully.
‘You should ditch the exams and come out to Greece with me,’ Sander responded.
That suggestion meant even more than the gift of the ring to Tally and she beamed with happiness and relief. She would have so much enjoyed accompanying him and getting the chance to meet his parents before the wedding. ‘I’d have loved to do that, but I’ve put in three years of hard work at college and I want to graduate this year,’ she told him ruefully.
Everything was really all right between them, Tally persuaded herself that night while she lay trying to get to sleep. The ring had been a thoughtful present, calculated to make her feel more like a normal bride. She needed to stop worrying and concentrate on what was really important. And what was really
important was that she was about to marry the man she loved and whose child she carried, she told herself dreamily …
CHAPTER NINE
TALLY’S choice of wedding dress had been her own. While Crystal’s bold ideas had reigned supreme in every other field, Tally had reserved the right to choose what she wore without interference.
For that reason, the dress wasn’t the most fashionable or expensive, nor was it calculated to turn heads with its daring. While Crystal was clad in designer togs from head to toe, Tally had picked an elegant lace column with a minimal train that flattered her small shapely figure. Her short veil and beaded hair ornament were equally unfussy. In addition, although the bridesmaids rather frantically threw rose petals in the bride’s path as she glided up the aisle, her mother flounced beside her in a killer silver shift dress and jacket to give her away and several flocks of doves were to be set free after the ceremony to mark the occasion, Tally exuded a wholly deceptive air of calm. Her exams were over and she was free to enjoy her day.
As she approached the altar, her outward composure was speared by warning fingers of frost when she met the cold critical appraisal of her future in-laws. Sander’s well-bred parents looked as grim as if they were attending a funeral. Her heart sank at that visible vote of disapproval and anxious pink flushed her cheeks.
She was grateful when Sander turned his handsome dark head to look at her and she rewarded that show of interest with a shy but appreciative beam.
Sander had the most beautiful dark golden eyes, she acknowledged dizzily, dazzled by the sheer charge of his masculine charisma. In only a few minutes, Sander would be her husband and she could still barely believe her good fortune. Although she had hardly seen him since the day she agreed to marry him, she appreciated the amount of hard work he had been doing; an upmarket business magazine had just published a profile of him, citing the entrepreneurial brilliance of his recent deals as well as the wide-scale expectation that he would shortly be taking the helm at Volakis Shipping. Reading that article, Tally was so proud of him that she had shown it to everyone she knew.
A sardonic cast to his lean strong face, Sander caught the shine in his bride’s eyes and the upward tilt of her full mouth and saw that she was happy, in fact overflowing with the emotion. At least someone was in a bridal mood, he reflected wryly, thinking of the stand-up row he’d had with his father, who’d wanted him to call off the wedding rather than marry a woman he had described as ‘the Karydas by-blow’. Even a reference to the baby had failed to ignite a glow of grandmotherly anticipation in his mother’s eyes; in fact the older woman had referred to the advent of her first grandchild as ‘the oldest trick in the book’.
On the other hand, neither of his parents had the slightest suspicion that their son might have been blackmailed into the marriage and Petros Volakis was only mildly concerned that the all-important TKR contract needed to keep the family business afloat had yet to be signed. Sander preferred his family to remain ignorant of Anatole’s threats because he saw no point in revealing that he’d made a sacrifice that—if acknowledged—would only make his parents resent the hell out of his wife … or in this case resent her more than they did already.
The combined accumulation of nerves and the hormonal commotion of early pregnancy made Tally feel a little dizzy on the church steps where cameras were clicking and film whirring with the bride and groom the photographic centre of attention. As she swayed Sander closed a steadying arm round her.
‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘Just a tiny bit dizzy,’ Tally admitted grudgingly, keen for her condition not to influence their special day in any negative way and glancing anxiously up at him as if she was ready to apologise for her uncharacteristic frailty.
Her bridegroom’s lean, devastatingly handsome features tightened, his stunning dark eyes cooling, his stubborn mouth compressing, and in that single assessing glance Tally experienced a darkly unwelcome moment of insight. Sander, she recognised in dismay, definitely didn’t want to be reminded that she was pregnant, or for anyone beyond the family circle to know. Maybe it was just impatience, she thought frantically, desperate to come up with a more acceptable explanation. He was young, fit and active, unaccustomed to bodily weakness. In addition, it was weeks since they had made love and he had a powerful libido. It was unlikely that he knew much about pregnancy and the hormonal and physical changes it imposed on a woman. Perhaps he was dreading the idea that his bride might turn into an ailing and untouchable pregnant mother-to-be.
‘You really will have to introduce me to your parents,’ she muttered ruefully as he swung into the limo beside her. ‘Do they know I’m pregnant?’
‘Of course.’
Tally tried not to feel self-conscious about the fact for, in a couple of months, people would only have to look at her to appreciate that there was a baby on the way. ‘It’s very awkward that I still haven’t met them.’
‘Between your exams and my schedule there wasn’t an opportunity.’ Sander watched the celebratory flock of doves take flight without wincing in disbelief and he was proud of himself for that tolerant restraint. ‘But we’ll both be much more accessible over the next few months. We’ll be living in Athens for a while at least.’
Since he had not mentioned that salient fact before, Tally tensed. ‘Are you taking over at Volakis Shipping?’
Sander nodded gravely. ‘Can’t avoid it any longer and I’m not sure I even want to any more. It is my family’s heritage. But if my brother, Titos, hadn’t died, the situation would never have arisen.’
Tally had noticed that he never mentioned his late brother. ‘What was Titos like?’
‘A very decent guy, clever, but he had no business brain. He and I could never have worked successfully together. He was the centre of my parents’ world though.’
‘They’ve still got you,’ she pointed out gently.
Sander loosed a rather edged laugh. ‘Titos fitted the bill, I never did. His death devastated them and my survival only reminds them of what they have lost.’
Tally frowned and hoped he was wrong on that score. The concept chilled her, much like the icy appraisal she had received from his parents as she walked down the aisle to marry their son. How could they not appreciate their strong and phenomenally successful younger son? Full of partisan sympathies on his behalf, she wanted to hug Sander and resisted the urge, knowing he would scorn her commiseration.
A few minutes later, the all-important introductions were performed in an ante-room at the hotel where the reception was being held. Petros Volakis and his tall elegant wife, Eirene, made no attempt to welcome Tally into the family circle. The frosty atmosphere could’ve been cut with the proverbial knife but Sander seemed impervious to it and fell into conversation with his father several feet away. Tally switched to Greek and said, ‘I speak some Greek,’ to Eirene Volakis.
‘I dare say your mother taught you everything she knows,’ Eirene pronounced with scorn in the same language, ‘starting with the most important lesson: how to catch a rich husband with a baby. While that ploy failed her, it hasn’t failed you.’
Shaken by that contemptuous response, which emphasised the unlovely fact that her in-laws knew all too many mortifying facts about her background, Tally reeled as if she had had her face slapped in public. She didn’t have a bitchy bone in her body and could think of nothing to say in return, other than a rather limp, ‘My mother never learned any Greek.’
As Tally moved hurriedly away Crystal grabbed her daughter’s arm and whispered, ‘You could freeze ice on that old trout’s face! What did she say to you?’
‘I think we can safely assume that I wasn’t on her wish list as a daughter-in-law.’
‘Don’t let it upset you,’ Crystal urged, although her own colour was high and it was evident she too was embarrassed by the chilly reception she had received.
Sander saw Tally’s white, drawn face as she moved away from his mother. She was twisting her hands together in an uneasy m
ovement that he had long since identified as indicative of Tally in distress mode and he immediately suspected the cause. The spasm of dark fury that ripped through him took him by surprise because he had strong reservations of his own when it came to his bride. His parents might be curling their lips in superiority at the over-the-top wedding in which bling rather than good taste ruled, but an affront to his wife was still an affront and unacceptable to Sander.
‘Mum got totally carried away,’ Tally told her bridegroom ruefully as she scanned the reception room, which was dominated by towering flower arrangements embellished with feathers, beading and reflective crystals, while twinkling lights winked on and off everywhere. It looked a little like a child’s version of fairy land. ‘I should’ve restrained her but she was enjoying it all so much I didn’t have the heart.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Sander pronounced valiantly, questioning his ability to appreciate her innate kindness and then balance that character trait with his belief that she had deliberately concealed her father’s identity before pulling it out like a big gun to get him to the altar. Was she in love with him? he wondered for the first time. Was that why she had fallen pregnant? He might have chosen not to use protection but only after she had assured him that it would be safe. If she had trapped him out of love, was he supposed to forgive her? He did not feel forgiving, he felt like a wild animal suddenly thrown into a cage. All of a sudden, the freedom he cherished had vanished. Marriage was supposed to make him faithful and monogamous even though, to date, he had never felt the desire to be either.
The reception wore on and there was little if any mingling between the guests on the bride’s side and the groom’s. Without unbending in the slightest, Sander’s parents left at the earliest possible moment. Tally relaxed a little and, drifting round the dance floor in Sander’s strong arms, even contrived to feel dreamily happy. He held her close to his lean powerful body and her blood stirred at his proximity and the aphrodisiac scent of his skin.