Bride by Day

by Rebecca Winters

  “No one talks to me that way, not even you.”

  “I just did. If you want an explanation, it’s all there in the letter to Sofia.”

  His face darkened with lines. “What letter?” he demanded savagely.

  “The one Yanni has been instructed to deliver to her personally if I haven’t recovered my passport by ten tonight.”

  Maybe it was true that the hand was quicker than the eye. She couldn’t have had time to blink before he pulled out his cellular phone and was pushing numbers.

  She swallowed hard when she realized that Perseus’s forbidding black gaze was daring her to make one move toward the door of his suite. She had the strongest suspicion that no one had ever defied him to this extreme and lived to get away with it.

  He held his hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s ten past nine. Do I ask Yanni to open the letter and read it to me, thereby exposing all our lives to the gossip mongers and causing Sofia more grief?” he asked in lethal tones, “or do you want to do the honors? I’m giving you a choice. Something you didn’t give me.” His words dropped like a shrouded corpse delivered into the deep.

  Sam groaned when she thought of the damage that letter could do if it got into the hands of the press. After a few seconds, “I thought my plan was infallible, but I should have remembered I’m playing against one of the world’s recognized geniuses in the take-over department.”

  She hated the triumphant gleam that entered those black depths. “I take it that you’ve decided to cooperate,” he came back smoothly, sounding completely unruffled. Her insult hadn’t made a dent in that godlike armor.

  “T-tell Yanni I made a mistake, and ask him not to mail it.”

  Perseus rapped out something in his native tongue, then put the phone back in his jacket pocket. With arms folded, he lounged negligently against the front of his desk. “I’m waiting for an explanation, Kyria.”

  He used that endearment to undermine her, but she wasn’t about to fall for it again.

  “Do you deny that you wanted to unite me with my father?”

  “No,” he said with such honesty and speed, she couldn’t think for a moment.

  “Even when I told you that I never wanted to talk or think about him again?” By now her entire body was trembling.

  “Even then,” he answered boldly. “Sometimes things aren’t what they seem, as we both found out where Sofia was concerned.”

  Tears filled her eyes. Damn.

  “Don’t you dare compare Sofia’s experience to mine. I had a mother who told me everything I’d ever need to know about my biological father.”

  A troubled look entered his eyes. “Sometimes a parent sees the truth they want to see.”

  Her chin lifted. “My mother’s truth was the truth.”

  He straightened to his full height, leveling his penetrating gaze fully on her. “Are you absolutely certain about that? I believed in my mother implicitly. But it doesn’t change the fact that she never told me Sofia’s father had always carried a torch for her, let alone that he’d asked her to marry him before she accepted my own father’s proposal.”

  His face darkened with lines. “That sin of omission caused me untold grief because I never understood my stepfather’s resentment of me. In the end, it changed my destiny and Sofia’s.”

  Try as she would, she couldn’t discount his logic entirely. The pain was starting again, even greater than before. “Unfortunately my mother isn’t alive to question.” Her voice shook.

  “That’s right,” he inserted strongly. “But someone else is. In fact he’s the only person who can put all the missing pieces together.”

  “No—” Sam cried out in anguish. “Don’t you understand anything? You, who the other night told me that unless a gift was given freely, then you wanted no part of it?”

  “I said that,” came his maddening admission.

  To her shame, her face glistened with tears. “If my father had wanted me in his life, then I wouldn’t have had to endure the unwanted attention of a total stranger twenty-four years later, and ask him, ‘Do I know you?’ before he announced his name was Jules Gregory, my bedoved father!”

  She would have fought Perseus, but her pain was too great. The second she felt those powerful arms enfold her, she began sobbing. Deep, wrenching sobs. The shock of seeing her flesh-and-blood parent for the first time was only now catching up with her.

  “Did he come to the villa?” he whispered, sounding oddly anxious.

  “No. He followed me from the apothecary in Livadi.” She struggled to get the words out. “Why did you do it, Perseus? Why did you find him and make him come? I’ve never needed him. All these years he’s been dead to me. Didn’t you realize what it would do to me to see him in person?” she cried angrily, and pushed herself away from him.

  For once Perseus didn’t pursue her. He stayed where he was, his expression solemn.

  “If that’s the way you really feel, Kyria, then I’ll take steps to make sure he never bothers you again.”

  She lifted her tear-stained face to his piercing gaze. “If you mean that, then you’ll let me leave for New York tonight.”

  A certain stillness crept over him. “I’ll release you from our contract on two conditions.”

  “No!” She shook her head, causing her hair to swish. “I won’t face my father one more time, not even for you,” she said before she realized what she’d given away. Now he knew how deeply her emotions were involved where he was concerned. It was too much!

  “This has nothing to do with your father. This has to do with me.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tonight I had intended to take you out for some Greek dancing. But I think we’ll forego that pleasure and simply enjoy the surprise I had planned for you afterward.”

  “Surprise?” She mouthed the word, scarcely coherent.

  “Yes. I had my sailboat stocked with provisions so we could enjoy a night crossing. You haven’t been to the other islands yet. Tomorrow I thought we’d stop at several on our way back to Serifos.”

  Under any other circumstances it would have sounded like heaven. A groan escaped her lips unbidden.

  “If you’re amenable, we’ll follow through with my plan. Once we arrive on Serifos, I’ll give you your passport and you can take the helicopter back to Athens for your flight home.”

  He was being too reasonable. “What’s the other condition?” she asked in a dull voice, her heart breaking.

  “That you live with me as my wife in New York until the waiting period is over. The same stipulations of our agreement will apply. I’ll establish you in the New York plant. You’ll have the freedom to see your friends and do the things you’ve been missing. Most important of all, you’ll have put five thousand miles of ocean between you and your father.”

  At that comment, her head lifted.

  No matter how angry she was with the way he’d interfered in a matter that was none of his concern, she couldn’t doubt his sincerity. The fact that he’d answered her questions honestly and forthrightly proved that much at least.

  If she were honest, she would admit that somewhere inside she loved him even more for trying to get her and her father together. But since his plan had failed, he was trying to do everything in his power to make amends.

  Living in New York with its hundreds of distractions wouldn’t be nearly as impossible as living with him on Serifos. And there was another truth she had to admit to herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of Perseus accidentally bumping into Sofia all the time in Sam’s presence.

  No. If she stayed with him, then residing in the States was the only solution that made any sense. The fact remained that their initial contract was still in force. She had agreed to live with him for propriety’s sake until he could marry Sofia. If she went along with this new contract, she could honor her commitment to him and still make a life for herself.

  At least in New York she could stay busy with her old f
riends and try to recapture the life she’d once led before a man named Perseus put a tentacle hold on her heart.

  The trouble was, no man could ever measure up to him. He was the stuff myths were made of, which was why she needed to get back to reality, as soon as possible.

  It felt a little like déjà vu when she filled her lungs with air and said, “I accept your conditions.”

  His face was an inscrutable mask. “Be very sure. I won’t allow you to go back on your word this time.”

  “I’m sure,” came her empathic answer, formulating a new plan of her own.

  Since she knew she’d never find another man like him, she could at least make a real career for herself. It would mean working night and day, exactly what she needed to try and exorcize him from her consciousness.

  “So be it,” he murmured in a satisfied tone. “Now that we have business out of the way, I’ve discovered I’m hungry.” He pulled out his cellular phone, most likely alerting his pilot that they were ready to go.

  “The sooner we take off for Pireaus, the sooner we can be at sea. Tonight the thought of sharing a meal with only the moon and stars for an audience, holds great appeal.”

  Nothing sounded more romantic. But Sam couldn’t get the picture of Perseus and Sofia out of her mind. They’d once sailed to Delos to pledge their love to each other. Children of the sea, the Greeks.

  Unlike the voyage of the mythical god Perseus however, her own real-live Perseus was returning home to Serifos chained to the wrong woman. How bittersweet this must be for him. He’d conquered the world, yet his own adored, black-haired Andromeda was still unavailable to him.

  Right then Sam could have wept for him, for herself. For the unfairness of life which held true fulfillment out of reach. She’d come achingly close to finding it with Perseus, only to discover that it was a foolish dream. Like all dreams spun by mere mortals, it had to end when the first light of day caused it to evaporate as if it had never been...

  CHAPTER TEN

  NO MATTER how hard Sam tried to deny it, she felt a poignant sense of homecoming as Perseus sailed with an expertise learned almost from birth, into the harbor at Livadi beneath a blazing, late-afternoon sun.

  The mystic isles of Kythnos, Sifnos and Milos were already an enchanting memory only Perseus with his intimate knowledge of their secrets could have made possible. More bittersweet memories to take back to New York...

  Dressed in the same outfit she’d worn to town the day before, Sam alighted from the immaculate interior to help tie the ropes to the dock. Under Perseus’s careful tutelege, she was learning fast and had already gained her sea legs. In her heart of hearts, she wished they could have sailed on indefinitely.

  As he was securing the boat, he suddenly flashed her a carefree smile. With his black hair attractively disheveled, his skin bronzed by the elements, he looked ten years younger. She felt the staggering pain of love pierce her very soul.

  Though she’d never had a desire to draw humans before, she found herself needing to capture this picture of him on canvas. Before the day was out, she’d make an initial sketch. It would be her greatest treasure.

  “Kyria Kostopoulos—” He broke in on her reverie, his voice sounding amazingly happy for a man with a permanent heartache. “You’ve made your husband proud today. Now you deserve a rest. While I gather up the luggage and see to a few details, you go on ahead. Yanni will be waiting for us at the end of the pier.”

  Was Perseus tired of her? Now that they’d arrived on Serifos, was the knowledge that Sofia lived close by the reason he wanted some time to himself?

  “You mean you’re not going to make me swab the deck?” she teased to cover her pain, hating the idea of being separated from him, even for a second.

  “That will be lesson number two,” he came back in the same playful mood.

  She fought to keep her smile in place. Given her freedom when she wanted it least, she had no choice but to do as he suggested, knowing full well there would never be a second lesson.

  Conquering the urge to look back one last time, she made her way along the floating dock, aware that such intense joy as she’d just experienced was ephemeral. Away from him, it had gone out of the day, depriving her of the ability to marvel over the picturesque setting.

  As she dodged the local foot traffic coming and going along the pier, she was scarcely cognizant of the myriad of boats—all different sizes and types—moored inside the sheltered bay.

  “Signomi,” she excused herself when she almost bumped into someone who’d unexpectedly stepped into her path.

  “Samantha?”

  She gasped at the sound of the familiar voice and looked around. Once again she found herself face-to-face with her father.

  Another chance meeting Perseus had engineered? All it would have taken was a call from his cellular phone. “I’ll produce your daughter at the dock by five o’clock. The rest is up to you.”

  She didn’t think she could feel any more pain over Perseus’s betrayal, but she was wrong. Gone was all desire to capture his memory on paper.

  While she was attempting to fight herself out of the emotional maelstrom in which she’d been flung, her father had been taking private inventory of her face and hair.

  Yesterday they’d both been wearing sunglasses. Today, they were minus their disguises. Though she was loathe to admit it, he was an extremely handsome man in his own right. The one tiny photo she’d ever seen of him came from a magazine article. He’d been wearing sunglasses and a hat, making it impossible for her to get a clear picture of his features.

  Despite all the emotions boiling up inside of her, she found it fascinating that his eyes were the same shape, the same intense blue as her own. That their mouths followed identical lines and curves, that their hair grew from the same side part. Genetic links offering indisputable proof of their father-daughter connection.

  “I’m sorry Perseus’s misguided sense of family forced you to come all the way from Sicily for nothing. I’ve gotten along just fine all these years without a father, and don’t need one now.” For once her voice didn’t betray her with a stupid wobble or some such humiliating thing.

  There was a slight pause, then, “Don’t blame your husband for my appearance,” he began quietly. “The truth is, I’ve gotten along fine without a daughter all these years, as well. That is, until I saw a picture of you and your illustrious spouse in a local Sicilian newspaper. When he was a younger man, he bought my painting of your mother.”

  She nodded soberly. “I know.”

  He pursed his lips. “The article said you were the former Samantha Telford, that you’d been recently married in New York, and had come home to your new villa on Serifos.”

  His steady gaze shone with too much compassion for her liking. “Telford was your grandfather’s last name. But even if your name hadn’t seemed to be too much of a coincidence, I knew that genes don’t lie. I studied your picture for hours, haunted by the uncanny resemblance to your mother.” His voice shook.

  “Anna—a woman who has come to mean a great deal to me—agreed there was a true mystery here. She insisted that I come. You see... I was terrified that if I discovered you really were my flesh and blood, that you’d hate the very sight of me. I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

  “But after several days, it became clear to me that I’d never find peace until I came to Serifos and met you in person. Your housekeeper told me where I might find you.” He inhaled sharply. “One look at you yesterday and I knew you were my daughter.” The last came out in a husky tone.

  Sam couldn’t take it in. Perseus had not been involved in their meeting after all. An enormous weight seemed to lift from her heart, only to be replaced by remorse because she’d falsely accused him.

  “I—I’m sorry I was so horrible to you yesterday.”

  “It was entirely understandable, but I was prepared to take any risk to find out if I really did have a child.”

  Again, she reeled because her father had c
ome looking for her without any help from Perseus. And Perseus had let her heap abuse on his head without saying a word to defend himself. What had she done?

  “I never stopped loving your mother, even though she refused to marry me, never answered my phone calls or my letters after I left Cheyenne.”

  Cheyenne? Her father had been to Cheyenne? When?

  “But I’m not sure I will ever be able to forgive her for keeping your existence a secret from me.”

  A secret—

  She could hardly breathe. Was Perseus right? Was her mother’s truth only part of the whole truth?

  “Y-you really didn’t know about me?”

  “No.”

  She heard a whole world of meaning in that one word. It came to her then. He couldn’t possibly be lying.

  “One thing I will say in her defense.” His eyes glinted with unshed tears. “Between the two of us, we created a genuine masterpiece.”

  Sam bit her lip, overwhelmed by the compliment he’d just paid her. “Thank you,” she finally whispered, her emotions in chaos.

  Then a pained expression crossed his face. “How is your mother?”

  Sam could hardly swallow. “She died last year.”

  A bleakness entered her father’s eyes. Whatever had gone wrong between her parents, it was obvious he had suffered.

  “Why don’t we get out of the heat and go back to the villa to talk?” Perseus spoke up before she could form the rest of her thoughts.

  The two men acknowledged each other and shook hands. “It’s been a long time, Mr. Gregory.”

  “Call me, Jules.”

  Sam had no idea how long Perseus had been standing there listening, but she was grateful when she felt his hands slide to her shoulders from behind in a warm, firm grip. It was as if he knew she was emotionally overwrought and would collapse any second without support.

  Her father’s gaze left Perseus to fall upon her once more. There was a pronounced pallor to his skin as he quietly asked, “Is that what you want, Samantha? If not, I’ll go away and never bother you again.”

  “No!” The spontaneous cry leaped from her throat. “I need to know why mother did what she did, why she sent you away. I want to get to know my father.