The Giannakis Bride(23)

He wiped a hand down his face. "You do realize this is emotional blackmail, pure and simple?"

"Of course," she returned blithely. "Surprising though you might find  it, my IQ does register on the positive side of zero, which leaves me  well able to put two and two together and come up with four."

Choking back a laugh, he said, "Okay, I'll make you a deal. Marry me,  and I'll agree to try to sort things out with my mother-my mother,  Brianna, not my father."

"When?"

"Is tomorrow soon enough?"

She edged away from the palm tree and onto the pool deck, her face a  study in suspicion. "It's not like you to capitulate without a fight.  Where's the catch?"

"There isn't one," he said, and following her, caught her around the  waist. "I want you more than I don't want the alternative, that's all."  And pulling her back into the shadows, he kissed her again.

At first she resisted him, holding herself stiff as a board.

"Be patient with me, agape mou," he whispered against her closed lips. "Remember, I'm a work in progress."

She made a soft, helpless sound in her throat and wound her arms around his neck. Her mouth bloomed under his, hot and sweet.

His body quickened in a burst of need that staggered him. Bracing  himself against the tree, he tossed aside her towel and yanked down his  fly. In one swift move, he lifted her so that she straddled him, and  slid to the hilt in her sleek and eager flesh.

She convulsed around him almost immediately; spasm after mind-numbing  spasm that pushed him beyond anything mortal man could hope to  withstand. Desperate to prolong the pleasure, to distract himself from  the siren song that was her body, he doggedly recited to himself the  months of the year. Ianouarios … Fevrouarios … Martios … .

April made a fool of him. He came in a blinding rush, spilling into her  endlessly, violently, until he had nothing left to give. Drained, and  still buried inside her, he sagged at the knees and lowered them both to  the grass, too depleted to support his own weight, let alone hers. "If  you don't end up pregnant after that," he panted, when at last he was  able to speak again, "then one or both of us needs to see a fertility  specialist."

Her breast rose in a sigh. "I didn't mean to play Russian roulette again. You caught me off guard."

"I caught me, as well." He wrapped her more securely against him. "Not  surprising, really. I'm making up for four years of lost time."                       
       
           



       

"It wasn't all bad. At least you ended up with Poppy."

He'd feared all along that sooner or later he'd have to share everything  with her; that she deserved better than the laundered truth he'd so far  given her. If golden opportunity was what he'd been waiting for, the  one she'd just handed him couldn't be beaten. "And I wouldn't be without  her," he began. "Until you came back, she was my whole life, but-"

She stopped him dead with an ear-splitting shriek as a jet of cold water  sluiced over them. Too late, he realized that the in-ground sprinkler  system had been turned off only where the tables and tent were set up.  The rest of the grounds were receiving their nightly soaking.

Cursing, he rolled to his feet and took her with him. Another blast  caught them in the crossfire, streaking over his pants and spraying the  length of her spine. Grabbing her towel, he thrust it at her and shoved  her toward the pool deck, then raced back to collect their remaining  clothes. He didn't fancy having one of tomorrow's guests stumbling over  her bikini or his boxers.

Joining her, he said, "Not exactly how I'd hoped to end the evening, but now you know how I keep my gardens so green and lush."

Drops of water spiked her eyelashes and clung to the ends of her hair  like so many scattered diamonds. Her teeth were chattering, likely as  much from shock as cold, and she looked thoroughly offended. "I thought  someone had turned a hose on us."

"It'd take more than that to put out the fire between us, agape mou!" he  laughed. "Come on, I'll sneak you in by the side door and up the back  stairs. With any luck, you'll make it to your room without bumping into  anyone."

"I can only hope," she said tartly. "I've had about as many surprises as I can handle for one night."

Close to an international crowd of a hundred showed up the next  afternoon, among them several personnel Brianna had met at the hospital  over the past two weeks. The vast majority of guests, though, were  strangers, and although some did a double take, most managed to mask  their surprise when Dimitrios introduced her as Poppy's aunt and his  future bride.

"How very lovely to meet you," they murmured politely, giving her a discreet once-over.

And "What a refreshing return to normality for little Poppy, to have two parents again."

They didn't add, "Especially when one's a dead ringer for her late  mother," but Brianna was sure that must be what they were thinking. Once  out of earshot, they gathered in little cliques and exchanged knowing  glances over their champagne flutes and teacups.

"I imagine you're finding this a bit of a baptism by fire," Noelle  remarked sympathetically at one point. Petite, blond and elegant in  lavender shantung, she looked more like a ballet dancer than the head of  a prestigious transplant team, and was a perfect foil for Dimitrios's  dark good looks. "Don't let it get you down, Brianna. Just be yourself  and enjoy the afternoon."

Easier said than done, though. She and Dimitrios made a handsome pair  and Brianna felt very much the third wheel, tagging along in their wake  as they mingled with the crowd. Still, she made the effort, smiling and  nodding in all the right places, but the strain must have shown because  after a while, Dimitrios took pity on her and sent her off to the  refreshment tent for a reviving cup of tea.

Not a good idea, as it turned out. Only a few people clustered around  the linen-draped buffet table, among them four women, all Americans,  were helping themselves to an array of tiny pastries and deep in  conversation not meant for anyone else's ears, least of all hers.

"Marrying the identical-twin aunt takes keeping it all in the family a  bit too far, if you ask me," one in robin's-egg-blue brocade declared.

"Not the smartest choice he could have made, I agree," another put in.  "If she's anything like Cecily, he's in for a load of trouble he doesn't  need, what with his daughter being so ill and all. Noelle's a much  better candidate."

The third nodded conspiratorially. "Grist for the gossip mills, though.  The buzz around Athens is he met both sisters at some sort of celebrity  yachting party years ago, and this is the one he was really after, but  Cecily put the moves on him and trapped him into marrying her instead."                       
       
           



       

"Just goes to show even Dimitrios Giannakis makes a mistake once in a  while. Kind of gives hope to the rest of us mere mortals, doesn't it?"

"That's harsh," the remaining member of the quartet said. "If the rumors  are true and this is a love match that's been forced onto the back  burner all this time, I say good luck to them."

"And they'll need it. Sixty-seven percent of second marriages end in  divorce, and I'd lay money on theirs being one of them,"  robin's-egg-blue brocade pronounced sanctimoniously.

Resisting an uncharitable urge to stuff the entire tray of pastries down  the woman's throat, Brianna took aim and fired a shot of her own. "If  saving face is at all important to you, you might want to keep that  opinion to yourself," she said sweetly, her hand admirably steady as she  accepted a cup of Earl Grey from the uniformed maid manning the  sterling tea service. "Dimitrios and I, you see, plan to be one of the  remaining twenty-three percent."

The collective gasp that followed indicated she'd scored a direct hit.  It should have made her feel better, but it didn't. Rather, it  underscored what she'd believed from the outset. She and Dimitrios were  getting too far ahead of themselves.

Just that morning, on the way back from visiting Poppy, she'd tried  talking him out of going public so soon with news of their engagement,  if such it could be called. "It's not the time," she'd argued. "This  afternoon's about honoring the people on your guest list. It's nor fair  to steal their thunder."

He'd disagreed. "Face it, Brianna, when it comes to news like this,  there's no such thing as the right time. It's going to cause a stir, no  matter when we announce it. We might as well get it over and done with."