Wedding Party Collection: Here Comes The Groom. Rebecca Winters
“I hope Ms. Hamilton didn’t allow you to stay up too late.”
Dimitrios finished off his orange juice in one swallow. When he put the empty glass down he said, “You don’t have to worry. She’s that rare secretary who anticipates my every need.” It would be too much to hope she would repeat last night’s experience tonight.
Once again it dawned on Dimitrios he was entertaining thoughts that had no place being there. He groaned at his lack of mental discipline. Damn if the room didn’t spin when he moved his head too fast.
“I’m glad you’re so much better, Uncle.”
That was debatable. But a few minutes later, after he’d consumed a cheese omelette and butter biscuits, he felt ready to take care of a little personal business.
“I might have an errand for you to run. Afterward, we’ll go out on the terrace with your mother and talk. Would you mind handing me my cell phone? It’s in my suit jacket hanging on the chair. I’ll also need the phone directory.”
“Don’t move. I’ll get everything.”
Once his nephew gave him both items, he looked up the number of the hotel and called reception.
“Mediterranean Palace. Kalimera.”
“Kalimera. This is Dimitrios Pandakis. Put me through to Ms. Hamilton’s suite, please. It’s booked in my name.”
“Mr. Pandakis! We heard you’d had an accident.”
“A small one, but I’m fine.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. Just a moment and I’ll put you through.”
“Thank you.”
On the third ring, a man speaking English answered the phone. “Better late than never, Alexandra, darling. What happened? I was beginning to wonder if Zeus had whisked you off to parts unknown in that private jet of his, never to be seen again.”
Dimitrios felt a negative rush of adrenaline. “This is Dimitrios Pandakis. Sorry to disappoint you. Ms. Hamilton is staying at my villa for the moment. This is Michael, I presume.”
“That’s right.”
“My secretary’s asleep, but I’m sure she’ll be in touch with you as soon as she wakens. She mentioned a costume. Do you have it with you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be sending my nephew for it within the half hour. His name is Leon Pandakis.”
“If you’ll tell your nephew to meet me at the front desk, I’ll wait there for him.”
“How will he know you?”
“I’ll be carrying a golden scepter in one hand.”
He clutched his phone tighter. She’d really had a costume of Saint Dimitrios made for him?
“Thank you, Michael.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Pandakis.”
After the line went dead he felt the childish urge to knock the man’s block off. What the heck was wrong with him?
“Uncle? Are you all right? Are you nauseous?”
He eyed Leon, unable to explain to himself, let alone his nephew, the unsettling mixture of emotions running through him.
“No. Do me a favor and run by the Mediterranean Palace. There’ll be a man who’s a friend of Ms. Hamilton’s waiting in the lobby. He’ll be carrying a costume. You’ll recognize him because he’ll be holding a gold scepter.”
“That sounds interesting. I’ll go right away.”
“Thank you, Leon. On your way out will you ask one of the maids to bring me the morning paper?”
He nodded. “Promise me you won’t move while I’m gone.”
“You have my word.”
As soon as his nephew left, he phoned Stavros, who sounded touchingly emotional to hear that Dimitrios was on the mend after his accident. Apparently the whole family had heard about the plane mishap over the morning news and were worried about him.
Dimitrios rushed to assure him he was fine. During the course of their conversation, Serilda brought him the newspaper, then slipped out of the bedroom with his empty tray.
It was just as his secretary had predicted. The pilot’s call to the hospital had made front-page headlines. Damn the media.
He tossed the paper aside in disgust. In a foul mood, he told Stavros he’d call him later. After they hung up, he knew he ought to ring Vaso, at least, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
The way the man named Michael had answered the phone—“Alexandra, darling”—not even waiting to find out if she was the person calling had set his teeth on edge.
Dimitrios couldn’t help but wonder how soon Yanni would show up in Thessalonica. Where and when was Ms. Hamilton planning to meet him?
His secretary was going to be stretched pretty thin to accommodate both men and do her job at the same time.
Though she’d never done anything to disappoint him or make him angry, it pleased him to know she was in the guest bedroom sleeping alone for a change. He wagered neither man would be happy to learn she’d spent last night with him.
Would she tell either of them the exact nature of her ministrations, and why? Or was she a tease? He supposed it was possible his perfect secretary was as deceitful as the next woman when it came to a man. It would be well to keep that in mind.
“I’m back!”
His nephew entered the room for the second time that morning carrying a garment bag over one arm and a golden scepter in the other. He laid everything on the unmade bed.
“I see you found Michael.”
“He was impossible to miss. I think he was a little worried because this was supposed to be a surprise for you.”
“My secretary already told me about it.”
“I don’t think he realized that. He was nice. So American, you know? But really funny.”
Dimitrios could have done without Leon’s favorable observations. On the other hand, he had no right to criticize anything. After all, he’d sent his nephew on that errand for the specific purpose of learning more about the man Ms. Hamilton would be sharing a room with while she was in Greece.
If his curiosity over his secretary didn’t stop, Dimitrios was going to be in deep trouble.
“Do you know what it is, Uncle?”
The question brought him back from plaguing thoughts. “I have a fairly good idea.”
“Shall I unzip the bag for you?”
“Under the circumstances, I think I’ll let my secretary do the honors when she wakes up.”
“Is it for you?”
“I’m afraid so.”
His nephew grinned. “She certainly doesn’t know you very well if she thinks she can get you to wear a costume to the fair.”
You’d be shocked if you knew how well she reads my mind, Leon. That’s the problem. That’s why she’s managed to get under my skin without my realizing it.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Dimitrios muttered. “I presume your mother is up.”
“Hours ago.”
“Then let’s find her. On our way out, would you mind hanging the costume in my closet?”
“I’ll do it right now.”
It couldn’t be six in the evening! But it was.
Anxious