The Giannakis Bride(24)

"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.