That's Amore! (7 page)

"It took some doing, but I was able to get a bed delivered today," he said, brushing a wisp of hair off her cheek. "I figured you'd like to decorate the rest of the house yourself once
its
officially ours."

"Jason … I don't know what to say." Overwhelmed by everything, her emotions surfaced in the form of tears that spilled onto her cheeks. "I never expected you to do all this for me."

"I did it for you, and for us." He swept away the moisture on her cheeks with his thumbs, his smile both sexy and tender at the same time. "And because you didn't expect me to buy this place or move to
Maui
, it makes doing it for you now all the sweeter."

"Do my parents know?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I wanted this to be a surprise for you, but we can tell them in the morning before we leave for our honeymoon, if you'd like."

She nodded, still a bit stunned. "Who did all this? The candles, the hibiscus…"

"I asked the Realtor to do it." He'd taken off his suit jacket and bow tie at the reception, and now he unbuttoned the front of his shirt. "We had it all planned and I called her right before we left."

Her mouth went dry as he shrugged out of his shirt and the candlelight bathed his skin and the smooth muscles along his chest in a golden glow. "It's very romantic and sweet."

He removed his shoes and socks, and slowly circled around her, building the anticipation of his touch. He slowly, leisurely unzipped the back of her wedding gown, all the way down to the base of her spine as he nuzzled and kissed her neck. "Trust me, there's nothing sweet about what I plan to do to you in this bed tonight."

She closed her eyes as a delicious shiver coursed through her, tightening the tips of her breasts and tickling her belly with heat and awareness. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah," he murmured into her ear, and pushed the dress down her arms until it fell into a puddle of satin at her feet. He unclasped her bra, and let that drop to the floor, too, leaving her clad in just a wispy pair of white panties.

Still standing behind her, he reached up and removed the floral wedding lei encircling her head, then released her hair from confinement. The long, silky strands rippled down her back and around her shoulders, and he buried his face in the thick, fragrant mass and inhaled deeply.

He moved away for a moment, and she heard him unzip his pants, heard them drop to the floor to join her dress. Then he sat down on the edge of the mattress and gently turned her around so that she was finally facing him. He gazed at her reverently, and since he'd stripped off all his clothes, his desire for her was unmistakable.

"God, you are so beautiful," he whispered in a rough and aroused tone as his gaze took in the bounty of her breasts, the dip and swell of her hips, and the white panties she wanted gone so she could be as naked as he was.

But he seemed to have other ideas in mind.

Settling his hands on her waist, he spread his legs and drew her forward, so that she was standing between his thighs and she could feel the heat of his breath against the plump curve of her breast. She was dying for him to take her nipple into his mouth, but instead he filled his palms with the mounds of flesh and used his thumbs to scrape across the sensitive tips.

She bit her lower lip, but couldn't contain the moan that managed to escape—a sound of wanting and desire.

He caressed her breasts, kneaded them in his hands, and because she needed
more,
she threaded her fingers through his hair and guided his mouth to her nipple, brushing the aching crest against his damp lips.

"Take me in your mouth," she begged.

He did, making her knees buckle and her breath hitch in her throat as he suckled her breast and used his tongue to tease and flick across the puckered tip. He gave her other breast equal treatment before finally pulling away.

He stroked his palms over her belly, and she quivered from his touch and the adoring look in his eyes.

"I already love this baby of ours," he murmured before he leaned forward and placed a warm, damp kiss on her bare stomach.

Closing her eyes, she reveled in the poignant moment, so amazed at this man's tenderness and ability to melt her heart, and fill her soul with such pleasure and joy.

Before long his hands began to wander, sliding around to her backside and beneath the elastic waistband of her panties. Tugging the scrap of fabric over her bottom, he pushed them down the length of her legs. He stroked her bare thighs and dipped his tongue into her navel the same time his fingers dipped between her legs and caressed her intimately.

Knowing she was close to collapsing into a boneless heap, and unable to stand much more of Jason's slow seduction, she pushed him back on the bed. With an obliging grin, he moved up onto the mattress and she crawled up over him until she was straddling his waist.

"Mmm, taking matters into your own hands, I see," he teased, but he didn't seem at all upset by the switch in roles.

"Well, you're taking your sweet time about making love to me," she complained with a feigned pout and leaned forward so that her mouth was only inches from his and her breasts were crushed against his chest. "We can do slow later, for the next fifty years if you'd like. But right now, this first time with you as my husband, I just want to lose myself in you, in us, and intense, no-holds-barred passion."

She closed the distance between their lips and kissed him, her need obvious. He sank his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and returned the kiss just as hungrily.

Scooting her bottom downward, she groaned into his mouth as the tip of his penis pressed against her slick, feminine flesh. Beneath her, she felt him go wild, felt his control begin to unravel, which was exactly what she wanted. With their lips still joined, he grasped her hips and pulled her down as he thrust upward, plunging into her in one long, smooth motion.

She inhaled sharply and sat up, shuddering as every last inch of him filled her up. Before she could catch her breath, he rocked her along the length of his shaft, and that delicious friction against her sex was all it took for her body to come alive and a mindless orgasm to roll through her in waves.

Giving in to the exquisite sensation, she closed her eyes and tossed her head back, gyrating her hips in a steady, rhythmic motion to prolong the pleasure. When it was over, she stilled on top of Jason and looked down at him where he lay on the bed beneath her.

His eyes glittered with a fierce shade of blue, his jaw was clenched tight in restraint, and his chest rose and fell in labored breaths. Deep inside her, she could feel the pulse of his erection and knew he hadn't come yet.

"Come here," he whispered roughly.

She
lay
her upper body along his, and he wrapped his strong arms around her back. Before she realized his intent, he rolled them over, until he was the one on top and they were face to face, heartbeat to heartbeat.

Amazingly, they were still joined. Heat against heat. Skin against skin. With a slow, sexy grin he smoothed his hand down the back of her thigh, hooked her leg over his hip, and shoved deeper inside her. They both groaned, and he placed a soft, damp kiss on her lips before meeting her gaze once again.

"Hi, Mrs. Crofton," he murmured.

She smiled, certain she'd never felt happier in her whole entire life. She was well and truly Jason's wife. "I love the way that sounds."

"I think you'll like the sound of this, too," he said, his voice low and husky.
"Aloha Au la 'oe,
Leila."

Her eyes widened as she processed the words he'd spoken to her in her native language, albeit slowly and with concentration on his part. "I love you," she said, and shook her head in disbelief. "How did you learn to say that in Hawaiian?"

His eyes glimmered mischievously. "
Your
Nana."

She laughed lightly, grateful that her grandmother hadn't taught him other, more unrefined phrases. "You're so full of surprises tonight."

"Only the best kind."

She agreed. Pulling his mouth down to hers, she arched her hips up against his, pushing him closer to the edge of his own release. "Now let's get this marriage of ours consummated."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and proceeded to do exactly that, christening their new home with hopes and dreams, searing passion, and sweet, everlasting love.

I
DO, DON
'T I

Tori
Carrington

Dear Reader,

A fairy tale. Isn't that how all weddings and the days leading up to them are looked upon? A man and woman fall in love and want to spend their lives together. Nothing could be more perfect. Then—boom!—something happens to send everything into a tailspin that guarantees the day will remain in your memory forever … but for the wrong reason!

In our novella
I
Do, Don't
I?
Efi Panayotopoulou is one week away from her wedding … or a nervous breakdown, whichever comes first. Everything should be perfect. After all, she's marrying her childhood sweetheart Nick Constantinos, she has a dream of an original designer dress and her family is finally treating her like an adult instead of an overgrown child. Then within the blink of an eye, Murphy's Law goes into effect and everything that can go wrong, does!

We drew heavily from Tony's Greek heritage not only to share some wonderful traditions, but to put our own humorous twist on them. We hope you enjoy Efi and Nick's version of their big, fat Greek wedding! We'd love to hear what you think. Write us at

Here's wishing you your own special brand of happily-ever-after!

Lori & Tony Karayianni

aka
Tori Carrington

* * *

We dedicate this story to our niece, Eleni Tsilias, and her intended, Ciannis. Congratulations on your engagement! Here's wishing you both love, always.

CHAPTER ONE

Day one

"I
hate you."

The words weren't said in anger or in true dislike. Rather they were said with a certain wistfulness that made Efi Panayotopoulou smile at her best friend.

"No, you don't. You only think you do." Efi didn't spare Kiki a glance as they hung the fluffy white lace concoction on the back of her bedroom door, then wondered at the breathtaking wedding dress.

Kiki began bobbing her head. "Oh no. I very definitely hate you. Always have, if you want the truth."

Efi backed up until her bed impeded her progress. She plopped down on it, staring unblinkingly at her wedding dress. The mattress moved as Kiki sat down next to her and sighed heavily.

"I mean, just look at you. You have it all. A great family that loves you." She gestured around her. "A room fit for a princess. A great job at your family's pastry shop. And now you're marrying Nick, the most eligible bachelor in
Michigan
."

Of course, neither one of them mentioned that Nick Constantinos was the most eligible Greek bachelor. Partly because that was a given. Greeks married other Greeks—it was as simple as that. Efi didn't really care what nationality Nick was. She'd loved him ever since she'd first seen him on the neighborhood playground when she was five and he six and he'd just suffered a black eye because he hadn't known a lick of English.

And now, twenty years later, they were getting married.

Efi nudged Kiki. "Good thing I love you so much, or else we wouldn't be friends then, huh?"

She and Aggeliki Karras, aka Kiki, had been friends for longer than Efi could remember. Certainly before they'd attended the same schools together. And long before Kiki had made the decision to go on to university then medical school—from which she'd just graduated at the top of her class—while, after a few college business courses, Efi had gone to work full-time in her family's pastry shop.

Kiki's pretty features softened. "Good thing. I can't imagine you not being in my life, you know, pestering me to complain less and live more."

"Somebody has to, or else you'll end up a lonely old woman in a black dress growling at everyone you cross paths with. You know, like my aunt Frosini."

They gave the statement the pause it deserved,
then
they both shuddered. Aunt Frosini was enough to make the bravest soul quake in fear. When she was younger, Efi used to dream that her aunt was the old woman trying to cook Hansel and Gretel in the oven. Or the wicked witch in
The Wizard of Oz.
It was better they didn't see much of Aunt Frosini. She only visited from
Crete
every couple of years. Of course, she stayed far longer than anyone wanted her to, upsetting lives everywhere she went, spreading poison that didn't do much damage in small doses, but was lethal—mostly to her own well-being since it caused others to contemplate killing her—in large, continuous doses.

Efi had once asked her mother what had turned her aunt so bitter. Penelope Panayotopoulou had said something about goats and family property and a wedding that never was but the story was so outside anything Efi could relate to she hadn't understood much of it at the time. Of course, she'd been ten years old and she hadn't seen goats outside the walls of the Detroit Zoo. That had changed quickly when her father decided she and her three younger sisters needed to understand more of their heritage and instituted annual family trips to
Greece
, in a small town in Ancient Olympia where his family was from.

While the majority of their time was spent on the Ionian beach, it had been the goats and chickens wandering the hillside town that stayed in her mind. She was just thankful she hadn't seen any of the animals being sacrificed for dinner like her younger sister Eleni had or she might even now also be a strict vegetarian.

Kiki bounced from the bed. "Come on, try it on."

Efi
made a face. "Why? You've already seen me in it."

"Yes, but I want to see you in it again. Here."

She eyed the Vera Wang creation rumored to have been the one designed for J.Lo's non-wedding to Ben Affleck. She'd wanted the dress on sight when she and Kiki and her mother had flown to
New York
six months ago to shop for a dress. But now that it was there, hanging in her room, seven days before her wedding, she was almost half afraid to touch it for fear of getting it dirty.

Kiki picked up one of the
boubounieras
—Greek wedding favors—on the dresser and straightened the white bow. "God, I hate you even more. If that were my dress hanging there, I'd live in it until the day of the wedding."

Efi laughed. "You would not."

"I would so. Not only that, I'd probably wear it for days even after the wedding."

"That would put a crimp in the honeymoon."

Kiki grinned widely. "Who said you can't lift the skirt?"

Efi tossed a bed pillow at her friend.

They heard a car pull up outside, then voices fill the otherwise quiet of Grosse Point, Michigan, a posh, wealthy suburb just north of the bustling metropolis of Detroit on the St. Clair shore. Efi moved to her window along with Kiki and they stared down at what had to be at least twenty relatives getting out of one taxi. There was much cheek kissing and welcoming by Efi's parents. Then Aunt Frosini edged out of the cab and everyone seemed to freeze midmotion; an instant that might not be noticeable to outsiders but everyone there understood too well.

"Speak of the devil," Kiki murmured next to her.

Efi drew a deep breath. "Let the festivities begin."

Efi's father
, Gregoris Panayotopoulou, tapped his knife against his wineglass to gain the attention of the fifty or so relatives seated in different areas of the large house for the first of many pre-wedding dinners for the families of both the bride and the groom. Efi felt Nick's hand on her leg and her knee jerked involuntarily, knocking against the table and nearly upsetting the dozen or so glasses there. Even as heat suffused her cheeks and her thighs, she smiled at everyone when they looked her way.

Her father cleared his throat, offering her a disapproving frown. "Today the
flamboro,
the Greek wedding flag, was hung outside our home, marking the blessed ceremony to take place one week from today."

The guests tapped their own knives against their glasses until Gregoris lifted his hand. "Father Spyros, would you like to say a few words?"

The Greek Orthodox priest seated at the end of the table stood up, the end of his long gray beard nearly dipping inside his glass of retsina as he straightened in his black robes. "I would be honored to speak at this blessed event, the beginning of…"

Efi tuned out and stared at Nick, who grinned wickedly next to her, pretending an interest in what the old priest had to say.

Nick Constantinos was more than handsome. He was of the same make that had inspired ancient Greeks to sculpt and to follow charismatic warriors into battle. From his mesmerizing dark eyes, his slightly hooked nose and his generous mouth, Efi believed she'd never tire of looking into his face. But more than a collection of parts and pieces, it was Niko, now Nick's, charm that made him irresistible. He had but to turn on one of his grins, like now, and she was rendered speechless. Efi slid her own hand over to
lay
against his thigh. Speechless, maybe. But not paralyzed. She slid her fingers up his hard muscles until the back of her knuckles met his crotch. Nick made a strangled sound and his own knee jerked against the table, upsetting glasses where her jerk had not.

Efi grinned and made sure both her hands were in sight when everyone turned to stare, including her aunt Frosini across from them. Was her gnarled old aunt actually grinning at them as if recalling a wicked memory of her own? Efi lifted a brow.

The priest skillfully reached out and prevented his own glass from toppling over and didn't miss a beat as he continued to drone on in that way that only old priests knew how to.

A little while later, the official introductory speeches at a close, Efi went into the kitchen to help her mother serve the chopped fruit when Nick crowded her into the pantry and shut the door after them.

"You're a bad, bad girl," he murmured, his scent filling her senses even as he filled his hands with her breasts.

Efi made a half-hearted attempt to swat him away. "Me? You were the one who started it. I could have died when the table tottered the first time."

Nick chuckled and kissed her. "It was worth it just to see you blush."

Efi couldn't help but melt against his touch, his kiss making other, greater urgencies known.

"You realize it's been a week since we've made love," he said, kissing the side of her neck.

"Mmm. And it's going to be another week yet."

Nick groaned. "I don't think I can go that long without feeling you around me."

"You're going to have to." Efi said the words even as he backed her against one wall. A couple of cans teetered, so he switched directions and backed her against the door instead. He hiked her dress up even as she spread her thighs to his knowing touch. Just a few minutes. She wanted to feel him inside her as badly as he wanted to be there. To be joined in a way that shut all else out. That reminded her how very much she wanted this man. Not just now, but always.

And in one sweet week, seven short days, they would be finally able to have as much of each other as they desired.

The door moved against her back.

Efi groaned, reluctant to open her eyes and acknowledge that someone was trying to gain access to the room.

The door shook again,
then
was followed by a strident knock. "Efi? Are you in there?"

"No," she said quietly against Nick's mouth.

He chuckled and kissed her more deeply, working his index finger inside the elastic of her underpants until he stroked her slick flesh.

"Efi, you open this door this minute, do you hear me?
A me
sos
."

Her mother's tone brooked no argument. Efi knew that nothing short of a barricade would stop Penelope Panayotopoulou from gaining access to the room. The question was whether Efi wanted to be caught with her underpants around her ankles when it happened, even if Nick was her groom and they would soon be married. There were just some things you didn't want your mother to see you doing. Ever.

Efi groaned and leaned her forehead against Nick's. "Please tell me these seven days will pass quickly."

"It's going to seem like a lifetime."

"That's not what I want to hear."

"Trust
me,
it's not what I want to say." He kissed her, his tongue lingering against her lips. "I'll find a way for us to get together."

She joined her hands behind his neck knowing that he would. She'd learned long ago that whatever Nick wanted, Nick got. And she was oh so happy he wanted her.

"Efi,
tora.
Now,"
came
her mother's voice again.

Probably she was listening against the door and heard their exchange.

With a sigh, she straightened herself,
then
helped Nick do the same. Wearing a bright smile, she opened the door. "I don't know what could have happened," she said, sailing past her mother who stood cross-armed with her grandmother and her scowling aunt Frosini. "Nick came in to help me get some onions and the door just … stuck."

"Hmph," her mother said, pulling her arm in that way that only mothers knew how to do. "You smeared your lipstick while getting those onions. Go clean up in the bathroom before going into the other room or else everyone will know what you two were doing."

Efi made a face.

"As for you,
kolopetho,"
Penelope said, exchanging Efi's arm for Nick's. "Pull another stunt like that and I'll lock you up in the pantry until Sunday."

He grinned at Efi.

"Alone,"
Penelope clarified.

Nick bowed his head like a chastised child. "My apologies, Miss Penelope."