The Giannakis Bride (6 page)

It all sounded so horribly familiar; so reminiscent of her and Cecily’s own blighted childhood, when their mother would deliver an award-winning performance as Parent of the Year if the “right” people were there to witness it and there was the chance she could further her ambitions to make money from her daughters. The difference, of course, was that Cecily hadn’t done it for money. She hadn’t needed to. She’d married it, instead.

“If that’s how she felt, she never should have had a baby in the first place.”

“No. You’d have been a much better choice,”
Dimitrios
said, so quietly that Brianna wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard him correctly.

But the glance he turned on her, intense and full of dark remorse, made her heart leap in her breast and sent a thread of warmth stealing through her body. But Be careful! her head cautioned. He seduced you with words once before and you learned to your cost that, in the end, they meant nothing. Don’t fall for the same old ploy a second time.

From her post by the door, Noelle coughed lightly, as though to remind them of her presence and, crossing the room, lowered the high rail on the side of the hospital crib and took Poppy from Brianna. “This little one’s had enough excitement for now and is falling asleep,” she said, very much the doctor in charge. “The more rest she gets, the better, so let’s leave her to nap undisturbed.”

She placed Poppy gently on the mattress and drew a soft blanket over her lower limbs. Robbed of the warmth of that sweet little body, Brianna crossed her hands over her breast in a futile attempt to stem the emptiness that filled both her arms and her heart. She should have been our baby, she thought, anguished. Mine and
Dimitrios’s
. She’d never have had to make do with Erika or a nanny if I’d been her mother.

Noelle touched her arm kindly. “If
Dimitrios
doesn’t mind, you can come back later, but I have to ask you to leave her for now.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “It’ll be a change from her having to make do with me all the time.”

“Is there no one else in the family who comes to see her?”

“We have no other family,” he replied with grim finality.

Poppy rested on her stomach with her head turned to one side. Her lashes lay thick and dark as soot on her pale cheeks. Her thumb had found its way into her sweet little rosebud mouth. Her little bottom rose and fell gently with each breath she took.

Brianna lingered for one last look at the new love of her life. You do now, sweetheart, she telegraphed fiercely. You have me, and together you and I are going to beat this disease, and I’m going to be there to watch you grow up strong and healthy.

Dimitrios
was so silent and so obviously preoccupied as they rode the elevator to the main floor and walked out to the clinic’s sun-filled forecourt where
Spiros
waited in the Mercedes, that the last thing she expected was for him to stop her as she was about to climb into the car and say, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for something to eat. How about we stop somewhere before you head home?”

Taken aback, she said, “You’re inviting me to have lunch with you?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for a start, we might have agreed to put our differences behind us, but that doesn’t mean we particularly like each other much.”

“Are you so convinced of that, Brianna,” he asked gently, “or is it just wishful thinking on your part?”

Both his tone and his question stopped her short. For the past several years she’d clung to the belief that he was a liar and a cheat. It had made losing him a little more bearable. After all, she prided herself on having some brains, and what woman in her right mind wanted to tie herself to a man incapable of fidelity?

Since her arrival on his doorstep, though, and from a couple of rather ambiguous remarks on his part, not to mention that unpremeditated, devastating kiss, she was no longer sure of anything. Last night, when the first doubts crept in, she’d told herself her imagination was in over-drive. Today, she’d been forced to confront a reality so stark it left nothing to the imagination.

Like it or not, she and
Dimitrios
were allies against a fearsome, wicked enemy. Although they were both hurting, his pain ran deeper; deep enough that he was regarding her now with a dark, almost pleading urgency that tugged at her heart.

But could she trust her heart, this time around? Could she trust him?

Sensing her reluctance, he said, “I’m inviting you to have lunch, Brianna, not asking you to sell me your soul, and I promise not to have your food poisoned.”

“It never occurred to me that you might,” she said, shaking off her doubts. “And yes, I’d very much like to have lunch with you, as long as your driver doesn’t mind being kept waiting.”

“I pay
Spiros
to be where he’s needed, when he’s needed. He can take us to the
taverna
I have in mind, or we can walk, if you’d rather. It’s not too far.”

Finding herself in the back seat of the Mercedes with a
Dimitrios
who, despite the anxieties plaguing him, grew more appealing by the second, was a bit too potent a mix for her to swallow. “It’s such a lovely day, why don’t we walk?”

“I hoped you’d say that.” After a quick word with his driver, he cupped her elbow and steered her down the curving drive to the tree-shaded street. “Sure the heat’s not too much for you?” he inquired solicitously, glancing at her cheeks, which she knew were flushed.

She was burning up, but not for the reason he thought. His touch electrified her, sending a tide of warmth riding up her neck and reviving more buried memories.

Time spun backward to another hot afternoon under a blue Greek sky. Clad in a black bikini, she reclined under an awning, on the deck of the 325-foot yacht lying at anchor in a quiet bay in the Cyclades, some sixty miles south of Athens. And
Dimitrios
Giannakis
, a man she’d met only a few days before was tracing seductive patterns over her exposed midriff and murmuring sweet nothings in her ear.

And at the end of it all, they really were “nothings,” she reminded herself, shutting out the image. He hadn’t meant a word he’d said, and she’d be a fool to read too much into the present situation. He was, after all, a sophisticated man, accustomed to moving in the upper echelons of society. Impeccable manners were as much a part of him as his black hair and beguiling smile. Taking a woman’s arm as she crossed the street came as naturally to him as breathing. Or lying.

They stopped at a charming little
taverna
several blocks from the clinic. Tucked away on a side street, it opened at the back to a large courtyard shaded by a vine-covered pergola. About a dozen tables clustered around a fountain set in the middle, but only two were occupied, the lunch hour crowd having already been and gone.

Without consulting her, he ordered two salads and a bottle of
Boutari
Moschofilero
. “Still your favorite Greek wine, I hope?” he queried, tipping the rim of his glass to hers, after the waiter had poured.

“Yes,” she admitted, unable to stem a little glow of pleasure that he’d remembered.

“And you still don’t care for ouzo?”

“Definitely not.”

He fixed her in another unwavering gaze. “It’s nice to know some things haven’t changed, Brianna.”

But some things have, she told herself sternly. Don’t let him seduce you into forgetting that.

Their waiter reappeared and set down a basket of bread still warm from the oven and a small appetizer tray of olives and grilled octopus.

Welcoming the interruption as a chance to turn the conversation into safer, less personal channels, and hoping she sounded a lot more nonchalant than she felt, she said, “I’m not familiar with this part of Athens. It’s really quite lovely.”

“Yes.”

“I noticed on the way here that we passed a number of rather grand villas.”

“Yes.”

“Some reminded me of Victorian manor houses in England.”

“Yes.”

“Noelle’s English, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” he agreed, still holding her captive in his stare.

“What made her decide to work in Greece?”

“The weather’s better here?”

More unhinged by the second, she snapped, “Stop making fun of me—and stop saying ‘yes’ all the time.”

“Okay. I don’t know why Noelle chooses to work here, although I expect it’s because she’s free to work in any country that’s part of the European Union. What I do know, and what matters to me, is that she’s recognized as being one of the best in her field, the clinic’s as high-tech as anything you’d find anywhere else in the world, and only the best is good enough for my daughter. Any other questions?”

“No.”

“Good,” he said, allowing himself a small, satisfied smile. “Then let’s stop pretending either of us gives a damn about the neighborhood or Noelle’s reasons for practicing medicine here instead of in England, and talk about something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like us,” he said. “As in you and me. And let’s start with you.”

He achieved the result he was hoping for, surprising her enough that she almost dropped her wineglass. Recovering herself just in time to set it down on the table, she raised startled eyes to his, classic deer-in-the-headlights shock registering on her lovely face.

Good. Perhaps by keeping her on edge, he could unearth a few fragments of truth from all the lies. It was well past time.

Hesitantly she said, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything, but we can begin with this morning. Now that you have a more complete picture of what you’d be letting yourself in for, how serious are you about going ahead with testing as Poppy’s donor?”

“I haven’t changed my mind, if that’s what you’re afraid of. In fact, I’m more determined than ever.”

“Even though, if you turn out to be a suitable match, you’d end up with surgical scars on those elegant hips of yours? Won’t do much for your career, will it, if you can’t strut your stuff in a bikini?”

“I haven’t modeled bikinis in years, but even if that wasn’t the case, I hardly equate a couple of little scars with saving a child’s life. You might not respect how I earn my living,
Dimitrios
, but I’m not quite as shallow as you seem to think.”

“But you are ambitious. We both know that. You don’t let anything come between you and your career.”

“That’s hardly a fair comment! There’s a difference between being professional and being driven to the point that everything else runs second.”

She sounded so aggrieved that, if he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she actually believed the rubbish she was spouting. Steeling himself not to soften, he said, “I could argue the point, but let’s not go down that road, at least not right now. Instead tell me why you’re so eager and willing to help a child you previously refused to acknowledge.”

“I already explained I didn’t know Poppy existed until your phone call last Tuesday.”

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you?”

A flush accentuated those classic cheekbones. “I don’t care whether you believe me or not,” she said, her eyes shooting icy, pale-blue sparks. “I’m telling you that the last time I spoke to Cecily was right after you married her. It was also, you might recall, the last time I spoke to you, as well—until the other day. And I have no reason to lie.”

“Are you saying you didn’t even know your sister was pregnant?”

“That’s right. Apart from the lawyer’s letter telling me she’d died, I knew nothing about her life with you. You were hardly forthcoming, after all. Even at her funeral, we didn’t exchange more than the barest civilities. And contrary to what other twins might experience, Cecily and I didn’t share telepathic communication.”

He cradled his wineglass and regarded her thoughtfully. “In a sick sort of way, I suppose that makes sense. Cecily didn’t broadcast the news that she was expecting. In fact,” he finished bitterly, “she didn’t deal well with pregnancy at all.”

Picking up on his black tone, she said, “What do you mean?”

“She tried to terminate it at twenty weeks.”

“No!” Again he’d caught her off guard. Her flush drained into shocked pallor. “For heaven’s sake, why?”

“She didn’t like what it was doing to the shrine that was her precious body,” he spat, the acrid taste of disgust lingering in his mouth.

“Oh.” She dampened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “What changed her mind?”

“I did,” he said, reliving the scene in all its ugly detail. “Very emphatically.”

You can’t make me go through with it. Yes, I can, Cecily. And I will. How? By keeping me under lock and key for the next five months? Appointing that benighted housekeeper of yours my prison guard? If I have to, yes. You don’t have the right. It’s my body, not yours. But it’s my child. I hate you,
Dimitrios
! I’ll survive—and so will that baby…. Brianna cleared her throat. “Do you think,” she began tentatively, “her trying to, um, bring on a miscarriage, is in any way responsible for Poppy being so ill now?”

“I’ve asked myself the same question a thousand times, and I’m told by those who ought to know that the two aren’t related, but…” He shook his head, the doubts still plaguing him. “I should have kept a closer eye on Cecily. Monitored where she was going, who she was seeing. Made sure she didn’t drink alcohol or worse yet, dabble in recreational drugs.”