The Giannakis Bride (19 page)

“He’s very good for me,” she said. “We’re good for each other.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. A match made in heaven.”

Yesterday Brianna had questioned that. Today she almost believed it.

She floated on the same cloud of optimism throughout the following week. Although no word came through on the test results, Poppy was holding her own and thrived under the extra attention of a grandmother who came to see her most days.

From all accounts, Hermione was gradually chipping away at her husband’s obstreperous insistence that she choose between him and their son. “He claims my first loyalty is to my husband,” she confided to Brianna on the Wednesday, her brown eyes sparkling with something close to indignation. “He says that when I married him, I promised to be a dutiful, obedient wife. I pointed out that didn’t translate into my becoming his doormat.”

“I shudder to think how he responded to that!”

“Actually, he was so taken aback that at first he didn’t react at all. Then he glowered as only he can, and grumbled under his breath that women today were too bold and didn’t know their proper place in life. And I said I knew exactly my place—it wasn’t under his heel, and suggested he get used to the idea.”

Was this really the same timid mouse who’d crept into the ladies’ room at the yacht club less than a week ago, Brianna wondered. But then she remembered
Dimitrios
telling her that his mother had once been a vivacious, spirited woman, so perhaps the person she was looking at now was the real Hermione
Poulos
.

“Well, I’ve been working on
Dimitrios
, too, and trying to get him to soften his attitude toward his father,” she said. “He puts up a good front of pretended indifference, but I suspect he’s not as averse to the idea as he pretends to be.”

Hermione sighed. “I suppose, if truth be told, they’re both tired of being at odds. They just don’t know how to bring about an armistice without losing face.”

Regardless of the issues separating
Dimitrios
and his father, however, between Brianna and
Dimitrios
blissful harmony reigned. On the Thursday night they had a picnic dinner in the quiet cove below the villa. They sat on a blanket and toasted each other with champagne. They ate salad and wonderful Greek bread Erika had baked just that morning, and big fat prawns which
Dimitrios
grilled over an open fire. For dessert there were fresh figs and apricots and decadent little squares of baklava. And when the fire dwindled to glowing embers and the moon rose round and yellow over the sea, he withdrew a little box from the picnic hamper and slid a dazzling two-carat diamond and platinum solitaire on her finger.

“Now it’s official,” he declared, lifting her hand to his mouth. “You’re mine and I’ll never let you go.”

If he sounded a tad too triumphant, as if he’d just pulled off a business coup that left his competitors eating his dust, she supposed it was understandable. After all, they’d traveled a rough, unhappy road to get to this point, but she was finally where she’d always wanted to be, wasn’t she? So why quibble over a few words uttered in the heat of the moment? Still, she couldn’t help saying lightly, “This ring designates me your fiancée,
Dimitrios
, not a corporate acquisition.”

He drew her down on the blanket and ran a possessive hand over her body. “It signifies to the whole world that you’re everything I want,
chrisi
mou
kardia
. Everything I need.”

And with the night as witness, he showed her just how deeply he wanted and needed her, making love to her with such exquisite tenderness, such masterful finesse, that her silly doubts sank into oblivion. The moon rose higher, spilling over their naked bodies in tacit blessing. The waves rolled gently ashore, whispering approval. The entire universe narrowed to a few yards of sand still warm from the day’s heat, and the only man she’d ever loved.

Hermione, of course, was thrilled to see the ring on Brianna’s finger. Erika clucked like a proud mother hen.
Alexio
and even the taciturn
Spiros
beamed. Just briefly the dark cloud that had hovered over the villa for so long lifted, and the sun broke through again. There was to be a wedding, a bride, a celebration.

But first, there was the gala to get through on Saturday evening. The high point of the season before people fled the summer heat of Athens and left it to the tourists, it also marked Brianna’s official debut into society as the future
Kyria
Dimitrios
Giannakis
.

As usual on weekends,
Dimitrios
planned to spend a good part of the day with Poppy, and looked floored when Brianna said she’d go with him. “You won’t have the time,” he objected.

“I don’t see why not,” she said. “I don’t have anything else to do all day.”

“You mean, you haven’t booked an appointment?” Then, at her uncomprehending stare, “You know—to get yourself fixed up for tonight?”

“I can fix myself up,
Dimitrios
,” she informed him, amused. “It’s one of the perks of being a model. An occupational hazard that comes with the territory, you might say. Give me an hour to get ready and I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

“You could never embarrass me, but you never cease to surprise me, either. Most women I know would be spending the entire day at the spa to prepare for a night on the town.”

“I consider the time better spent with you and my niece. In fact, if it weren’t for such a good cause, I’d be happy to miss tonight’s event altogether. I don’t mind admitting, after last Sunday when I felt I was under a microscope, I’m not looking forward to a repeat performance tonight.”

He caught her to him and dropped a swift, hard kiss on her mouth. “Last weekend we made headlines, agape
mou
. Now we’re old news and someone else has center stage.”

I hope he’s right, she thought later, as she checked her appearance one last time in the full-length mirror in her dressing room. She knew she looked her best. She’d pinned up her hair in a sleek chignon, and her evening gown, a lovely, narrow-skirted creation in aquamarine satin lavishly decorated with tiny crystals, was a morale booster in itself. Sleeveless, with a deep
vee
neck and low-cut back, it needed no enhancement beyond her engagement ring and diamond-studded platinum hoop earrings, and she shouldn’t have been lacking confidence. But remembering the American women who’d been so forthcoming with their opinions at the garden party, she couldn’t suppress a grimace. If she came across the one in blue again tonight, she just might pinch her.

Some four hundred people thronged the halls and gardens of one of
Kifissia’s
grandest Victorian-style villas. A wonderful old house, with a frescoed ceiling in the ballroom, a turret at one corner and wide porches, it provided just the right touch of formal elegance to suit the occasion.

Designer gowns and priceless jewels were much in evidence, as were many of the faces Brianna had seen at the garden party. As
Dimitrios
had predicted, though, she was less an object of curiosity than she had been the previous weekend. She found herself relaxing and enjoying the evening as they circulated during the cocktail reception and he introduced her as his fiancée to various friends and acquaintances.

“Wonderful news,” people said warmly, and “Congratulations,
Dimitrios
,” and “Much happiness to you both.”

“You see,” he murmured, during a brief lull. “All your pre-gala nerves were for nothing.”

Not until they found their table at dinner and she noticed an empty seat on his left did she realize Noelle hadn’t shown up. “I know,”
Dimitrios
said, when she commented. “I forgot to mention that she phoned while you were getting dressed to say she’s been delayed but she’ll join us later.”

“Later” turned out to be almost midnight. Brianna was dancing with one of the other men from their table, leaving
Dimitrios
deep in conversation with two others when Noelle arrived. All three stood up to greet her. She smiled rather wanly, shook hands, then spoke briefly to
Dimitrios
. He shot her a look of consternation, took her arm and quickly led her out of the ballroom.

Brianna didn’t need to be clairvoyant to guess that something was amiss. “Excuse me,” she muttered, and, leaving her startled dance partner performing a solo waltz, worked her way through the couples on the dance floor and hurried in the direction the other two had taken.

By then they’d disappeared and it took her several more minutes before she found them. They were not in the big entrance hall where the champagne reception had taken place, nor were they in any of the various parlors on either side.

Noticing her, a sweet-faced older woman whom she’d met earlier pointed to a closed door toward the rear of the house. “If you’re looking for
Dimitrios
, dear,” she said kindly, “I believe I saw him go into the library with Dr. Manning.”

In fact, they weren’t in there, either, but she heard their voices from beyond a pair of French doors opening to a covered porch, and was about to announce her presence when the gist of their conversation stopped her dead.

“Well,
Dimitrios
,” Noelle was saying, “it’s not what we hoped for, when you first suggested approaching Brianna, but I warned you then that there are never any guarantees that a parent—or in this case, a parent’s identical twin—will turn out to be an acceptable donor. It’s disappointing, of course….”

Disappointing? As the impact of the news struck home, Brianna recoiled as if she’d been shot in the heart. How about devastating, Noelle? She screamed silently. How about the fact that Poppy could die because I’ve failed her? Will that be disappointing, too? Something we’ll push to one side, in order to get on with our lives?

Overcome with sorrow and despair, she clutched blindly at the door frame, frantic to strike some sort of bargain with God. She’d sacrifice her own health, give up
Dimitrios
, never again ask to be loved or to know passion and desire—anything and everything, if only Poppy could be saved.

Noelle’s voice intruded again. “No point in beating yourself up,
Dimitrios
. You’ve known all along that the best possible candidate is always a sibling. But even if you and Brianna were to have a baby…”

Her words faded, lost in a burst of laughter from a group of people strolling in the garden, but it hardly mattered. The gist of what she’d been saying was clear enough, and as a second wave of shock hit, Brianna backed away from the scene, willing herself to believe she must have misunderstood.

And much, much more afraid that she finally understood all too well.

No wonder
Dimitrios
had been so willing to make amends, so quick to propose, so anxious to marry her as soon as possible. No wonder he needed her so much! Idiot that she was, she’d convinced herself he wanted her for herself. Now it all made a different kind of sense, one that had nothing to do with love—at least, not between her and him. He wanted her DNA and another child, one only she could give him.

Dear God, she might even already be pregnant!

And yet…if her having a child gave Poppy a fighting chance; was, in fact, her only chance…? And if, regardless of why she conceived, Brianna loved the baby, as she knew she would, with her whole heart,
for ever
and ever, would it really be so wrong…?

No. What was wrong and would always be wrong was a relationship between a man and a woman built on deception. I don’t deal well with failure,
Dimitrios
had once told her. It’s not in my nature to accept defeat.

Well, he’d certainly proved that. Even she hadn’t realized the lengths he was prepared to go to, to win. He was duplicity personified. The lies and half-truths rolled off his tongue with the same facile ease as the endearments he constantly showered on her.

Sickened, she turned to leave the room. She’d heard enough and had only herself to blame if her romantic idyll had ended so abruptly and inexorably. She’d refused to listen when every instinct told her to take a step back and be sure before she once again gave everything of herself to
Dimitrios
.

She had wanted to believe in happily-ever-after when she’d always known that endings like that only happened in fairy tales.

If it seems too good to be true, Brianna, it usually is…. Oh, Carter, she mourned. Why didn’t I pay attention to the one man in the world who’s never let me down?

From the verandah, Noelle’s voice again penetrated her thoughts. “…is why I’m so late. I wanted to be sure there were no last-minute hitches before I spoke to you.”

Brianna couldn’t bear to hear another word. Not even bothering to steal away in secret, she opened the door and let it fall shut behind her.

“So there you have it. Not the news you were hoping for, but something better. A perfect match from an unrelated donor,” Noelle said. “Congratulations are definitely in order. The future’s looking very bright. First you and Brianna have found each other again, and now this. She’s lovely,
Dimitrios
, and I’m very happy for both of you.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “So, go find her and give her the excellent news.”

“Come with me,” he urged. “She should hear it from you.”