Wedding Party Collection: Here Comes The Groom. Rebecca Winters
his suit jacket, he emerged from his walk-in closet, hoping his nephew would reveal whatever had been troubling him. But when he discovered it was Ananke still in her nightgown and robe who’d crossed his threshold uninvited, revulsion rose like bile in his throat.
He’d always felt a natural antipathy toward the woman who’d tricked his brother into marriage, and never more than at this moment. Yet love for his brother’s son had tempered that destructive emotion enough for him to tolerate her presence in the villa while acting as guardian to young Leon.
Plastic surgery had removed all traces of the scars on her forehead left by the accident. Would that it could as easily erase the scars in Dimitrios’s heart. But nothing could take away the memory of a mercenary female who’d lured Leon to her bed for the express purpose of begetting a Pandakis. Because of her, his brother was dead.
Back then Ananke had been a precocious eighteen-year-old, aware of her assets and how to use them. Now she was a forty-one-year-old female, only six years older than Dimitrios. A woman most men found attractive, yet she showed no interest in them.
Not for the first time had he wondered if she was hoping to become his bride. Though she’d let it be known to family and friends that she refused to consider marriage until she saw her son settled down with a wife of his own, Dimitrios knew it was an excuse to stay on at the villa. No other man could offer her the Pandakis lifestyle.
At a recent family birthday party, his cousin Vaso had speculated with similar thoughts to him. Dimitrios’s eyes must have reflected his abhorrence of the subject because the eldest of Spiros Pandakis’s sons didn’t broach it again.
Unfortunately nothing seemed to slake Ananke’s ambition. Her temerity in seeking him out in a place as private as his own bedroom at seven in the morning gave him proof that she had few scruples left.
Out of love for his brother and nephew, he’d treated her with civility all these years. Regrettably this morning she’d stepped over a forbidden line and would know his wrath.
“You have no right to be in this part of the villa, Ananke.”
“Please don’t be angry with me. I have to talk to you before Leon finds you.” She looked like she’d been crying. “This is important.”
“Important enough to put false ideas in the minds of the staff, let alone my nephew?” he demanded in a quiet rage. “From here on out, if you have something to say to me in private, call me at my office.”
“Wait,” she cried as he swept past her and strode down the corridor toward the entrance to the villa, impervious to her pleading.
“Dimi!” She half-sobbed his nickname in an effort to detain him.
The use of the endearment only his parents and brother had ever called him had the effect of corrosive acid being poured into a wound that would never heal.
Compared to the sound of his ever-lengthening footsteps, the rapid patter of her sandals while she tried to catch up with him made the odd cadence on the marble tiles. To his relief, the patter finally faded.
He’d just shut the front door and had headed for the parking area around the side of the villa when Leon called to him.
Dimitrios wheeled around, surprised to discover his nephew following him.
“Uncle.” He ran up. “I need to talk to you. Alone,” he added in a confiding voice. “Would you let me drive you to the office?”
For a fleeting moment Dimitrios felt guilty for dismissing Ananke. She had obviously been trying to alert him to something. But when he considered her reckless actions, which would be misconstrued by his staff no matter how loyal they were to him, he wasn’t sorry he’d cut her off.
Years ago Leonides had married Ananke to do the honorable thing and give his child the Pandakis name. After his brother died, Dimitrios determined no breath of scandal would ever touch his nephew if he could help it.
Of course Leon was a free agent, capable of getting into trouble on his own—if that were the case. Under the circumstances, Dimitrios knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on business until he’d learned what was plaguing his nephew.
“Work can wait. Why don’t we take a drive and stop somewhere for lunch. I’ll call Stavros and tell him I won’t be in until afternoon.”
“You’re sure you wouldn’t rather spend time with one of your women friends now that you’re back from China?”
“No woman is more important than you, Leon.”
“Are you sure? When I was at Elektra the other night, Ionna went out of her way to ask me when you were coming home. She said it was urgent that she talk to you. She even asked me for your cell phone number, but I told her I didn’t remember it.”
Dimitrios shook his head. “If she was that forward with you, then she has written her own death sentence.”
His nephew eyed him steadily. “She’s very beautiful.”
“I agree, but you know my rule, Leon. When a woman starts to take the initiative, I move on.”
“I think it’s a good rule. I’ve been using it, too, and I must say it works.”
For some strange reason, the admission didn’t sit well with Dimitrios. It sounded too cynical for Leon.
“To be frank, I’m glad you’d rather be with me this morning,” came the emotional response.
Dimitrios gave his nephew a hug. Minutes later their car was headed into the hills of Thessalonica overlooking the bay. While Leon drove, Dimitrios checked in with his assistant.
“Stavros? Can you spare me for a few hours longer?”
“The truth?”
His question surprised Dimitrios.
“Always.”
“Ms. Hamilton and I may work an ocean apart, but since she became your private secretary, I’ve begun to feel superfluous.”
“You’re indispensable to the company, Stavros. You know that,” he rushed to assure him. The sixty-six-year-old man had kept the Greek end of the Pandakis Corporation running smoothly for decades.
Ms. Hamilton, the understudy of his former private secretary in New York until Mrs. Landau’s unexpected passing, was a six-month-old enigma, still in her infancy. Yet Dimitrios could understand why Stavros made the remark.
In a word, she was a renaissance woman. Brilliant. Creative. A combination of a workaholic and efficiency expert who, though she was no great beauty, happened to be blessed with a pleasant nature. She was many things—too many, in fact, to put a label on her. Mrs. Landau had known what she was doing when she’d hired her.
Before their trip to China, Dimitrios had wondered how he’d ever gotten along without her. During their week’s stay in Beijing while he’d watched her weave her magic before their inscrutable colleagues with the finesse of a statesman, he finally figured it out.
She had a woman’s mind for detail, but she thought like a man. Best of all for Dimitrios, she had no interest in him.
“Ms. Hamilton brings her own genius to the company, just as you brought yours many years ago and tutored me, Stavros. I’m looking forward to next week when the two of you meet for the first time. She holds you in great reverence, you know.”
“I, too, shall enjoy making the acquaintance of this American paragon. Spring greets Winter.”
“Since she’s in her late thirties, it would be more accurate to say summer, and you’re sounding uncharacteristically maudlin, Stavros.”
“You have to allow me the vicissitudes of my age.”
Dimitrios chuckled, but beneath the banter he could sense his assistant’s vulnerability. Perhaps a word in Ms. Hamilton’s ear that she leave something important for Stavros to handle for the fair