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Authors: Catherine Spencer

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BOOK: The Giannakis Bride
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His beautiful, sexy mouth twitched. “Yes, ma’am! If I spoke out of turn, consider me well and truly chastised.”

“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.

BOOK: The Giannakis Bride
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