"But I'm not ready to broadcast it to the whole world."
"Why not? Are you still having second thoughts about us?"
"No," she said slowly. "It's more that I'm still getting used to the idea of us being a couple, and I don't want to share it with anyone else just yet."
"That's all very fine, sweetheart," he reminded her, "but you forget my father already knows. This is happy news, Brianna, the best, and I'm not about to stand back and let him taint it with his own particular brand of poisonous cynicism."
Against her better judgment, she'd allowed herself to be persuaded. But what she'd just overheard warned her that Mihalis Poulos didn't have a monopoly on poison. And once again Carter's advice came back to haunt her. Take care, Brianna … .
We're rushing into this too fast, she thought miserably. Too much is going on, and we're losing sight of the most important person here, who is Poppy. The minute this party's over, I'm going to talk to Dimitrios. I have to convince him to slow down.
Her plan hit a snag when, with the sun casting long shadows over the garden, a white limousine purred up the drive and drew to a stop not far from where she and Dimitrios stood waving goodbye to the last of the departing guests. Noelle had been called back to the hospital just after five o'clock. Now it was almost seven, and well past the time for latecomers to show up.
Disappointed, because she desperately wanted to be alone with him and set a few things straight, Brianna said, "Are you expecting someone, Dimitrios?"
"Neh. I have a surprise for you. We'll be three for dinner tonight. Hermione is joining us."
"Your mother?"
"That's right. I called her this morning." He linked his fingers in hers. His eyes caressed her. His smile bathed her in warmth. "You see, calli mou, I do listen when you speak. I do try to please you every way I know how."
He was doing it again. Ambushing her with his compassion; disarming her when she was in battle mode. He was worse than a chameleon, she thought helplessly. One part of him was all about power and success and pride and ambition; the other, a testament to the generosity and kindness he shared only with a few select individuals, including her. How was she supposed to combat that?
"Well?" he said, nudging her gently. "Do we invite her in, or do I send her away again?"
She swung her gaze to the woman hovering beside the open door of the car, as though uncertain of her welcome. Brianna could only imagine the courage it had taken for her to get this far. "We ask her in, of course. And Dimitrios? Thank you."
"Efharisto," Hermione murmured in an aside to Brianna, as Dimitrios attended to predinner drinks. "I know I am here only because of your intercession with my son."
They sat on the west-facing verandah in comfortable wicker armchairs, with a tray of mezedes on the table in front of them, the olives, chunks of ripe red tomatoes drizzled in oil, slivers of octopus in wine, tzatziki and deep-fried calamari a meal in themselves.
Candles flickered in brass hurricane lamps strung among the vines overheard and nested at the base of the potted hibiscus shrubs fringing the perimeter of the terra-cotta-tiled floor. Hidden somewhere out of sight in the garden, a lemon tree in bloom perfumed the air. Below the verandah, the lawns dropped down in a series of manicured terraces to the shore. The sun sat low on the horizon, its dying rays staining the sky pink and orange and mauve.
An idyllic setting for a family reunion long overdue, some might have thought, but it was spoiled by the nervous tension simmering in the atmosphere. Hermione's fingers lay knotted in her lap. Her foot in its expensive suede pump tapped an anxious tattoo on the terra-cotta tiles. Her eyes flitted from Dimitrios to the glass doors opening into the house, as though she was unsure whether she should stay and face whatever the evening brought, or leave now, while she still had the chance.
Brianna felt terribly sorry for her. "I'm glad he asked you here, and so glad you came, Hermione. I'm sure it wasn't easy for you to accept his invitation."
"Mihalis doesn't know I'm here," she said, with another furtive glance around. "He thinks I'm visiting a friend."
It was on the tip of Brianna's tongue to say she was surprised the poor woman was allowed to have friends. Luckily, Dimitrios returned to the table just then and spared her having to think of a more suitable reply.
"An occasion such as this calls for a special toast," he announced, plucking a bottle of Krug from a silver ice bucket and pouring into three spun-glass flutes. "Kherete, Mother. Welcome. I can't recall the last time you and I sat down together and enjoyed a glass of wine."
"I can," she said. "It was the day you came home with an honors degree from the London School of Economics. I was so proud of you. I still am, Dimitrios. I always will be. Not that it matters to you one way or the other, I suppose."
He cleared his throat and studied the bubbles rising in his glass as if they were the most fascinating things he'd ever come across. "It matters, Mother, and I'm proud of you, too. I know it wasn't easy for you to come here tonight. I can't imagine Mihalis was any too pleased when he heard."
"Well, he hasn't heard, at least not yet, although I suppose I can't keep it from him indefinitely. But whatever the price I have to pay, it won't compare to what it's cost me to be alienated from my son and grandchild. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to propose a toast, as well." Eyes shining with suppressed tears, she raised her glass. "To the future. May it bring you both all the happiness you deserve. And to my dear granddaughter, that she may soon be well again and back home where she belongs."
Regaining his composure, he clinked the rim of his flute against hers. "Better yet, how about, to all four of us?"
I'm going to cry, Brianna thought, barely able to swallow her wine.
Across the table Dimitrios caught her eye. "And most especially to my beautiful fiancée, for her wisdom and patience. I'm a better man because of you, Brianna, calli mou."
Dear heaven, what a talent he had for laying claim to her heart! What an abundance of charm! He knew exactly the right buttons to push to make her cast aside her doubts and think only of how lucky they were to have found each other again.
Hermione beamed through her tears. "So when is the marriage to take place?"
"As soon as possible. Yesterday, if it was up to me," Dimitrios said. "I lost this beautiful woman once already. I won't risk losing her again."
"I can see that you love her very much."
Reaching for Brianna's hand, he brushed his mouth over her knuckles. "She is my life," he declared, piercing her with a glance of such unbridled hunger that she blushed. "Even now, with things about as grim as they can get with Poppy, Brianna gives me hope of better times to come. With her by my side, I can face whatever the future holds."
"Which is exactly as it should be." Hermione blinked away a fresh onslaught of happy tears. "If you'll let me, I'd love to help with the wedding-unless your parents, Brianna … ?"
"My father died when I was a baby, and my mother when I was nineteen," she said. "As for a wedding, I really haven't given it much thought. It doesn't seem terribly important in the greater scheme of things."
"Because of Poppy," Hermione said gently. "I understand. But, pethi mou, your wedding day is important, too. You should be able to look back on it with pleasure for the happy memories it holds, not regret that it passed by without your noticing."
"Let's not forget whose wedding this is, Hermione," Dimitrios warned, all the old reserve back in his voice. "It's up to Brianna to decide what she wants."
"Well, yes … I didn't mean to push my way in where I don't belong."
She shrank back in her chair, looking so crestfallen that Brianna rushed to reassure her. "As mother of the groom, of course you belong, Hermione. And once we set a date, I'll be glad of your input."
Erika came to remove the appetizers just then, and a short time later brought in the main course. Conversation resumed on a more general note after that, easing the tension and lending an almost festive air to the occasion. But it all came to an abrupt end when a fracas at the front door heralded the uninvited and decidedly unwelcome arrival of a fourth member to the party.