The Greek Bachelors Collection. Rebecca Winters
families to meet this evening, but you have a few hours to rest.”
Jaya’s uncle, because that’s who the hard-ass old grouch had to be, said something in Punjabi.
Theo looked to her. She had said they all spoke at least a little English and that her father would be the toughest to communicate with because of his injury.
With a level stare that looked through the line of young men, she said, “They object.”
“To sleeping here? Because we’re not married? I’m staying in another suite,” he assured them. “My family owns the hotel. We have other rooms.”
A snort from one of the men almost overrode what Jaya said, her voice quiet and uneven. “It’s the marriage they don’t support.”
A quick blast of Punjabi came at her from her uncle.
She said something back, speaking firmly, but Theo could feel the tension in her was so acute she threatened to shatter.
“You’re too rich, man,” one of the young men blurted. “Look at my father. We can’t pay a dowry that would keep you living like this.” He waved at the opulence of the Makricosta Olympus suite. “Jaya should have known better than to agree. Are you that angry with our uncle you’d ruin him?” he demanded of her.
Jaya started to respond, but Theo gently squeezed her into silence, his fury nearly blinding him. It took everything he had to remain calm and civilized. He hated confrontation, but he’d been serious about fighting to the death for her.
“Dowries are illegal. I brought you here because Jaya wished to have her family at our wedding. If you leave, that will hurt her. I can’t allow that.” He held first her brother’s gaze, then her uncle’s.
Into the silence, her father said, “Jaya?” He patted Zephyr’s leg and smiled.
Jaya drew a sharp breath and said, “Yes, he’s mine.” She drew Theo forward and crouched to the floor so it would be easier for her father to see her. She spoke slowly in Punjabi to him, something about their wedding and then she introduced Theo as her groom, straightening to stand beside him with pride.
Theo drew her close while the old man studied them. He felt on trial as he used the Punjabi he was still learning to ask her parents for their blessing.
She tilted her smile up to him, her pride in him almost too much to withstand.
When her father nodded, Jaya dissolved into happy tears, first kissing her father then wrapping her arms around Theo so tightly he could barely breathe.
He looked over her head at her brother, still twitching at all the animosity hovering in the room, but bearing it, for her. “I intend to take care of your parents. Leave if you wish, but if you’d like to hear the arrangements you should stay. Now, Jaya.” He coaxed her to show her damp face. “Would you please introduce me to the rest of your family?”
* * *
As the days of celebration raged, Jaya agonized over whether it was too much for Theo. They hadn’t gone with a full-out Indian wedding, but there was enough to be overwhelming.
That’s why it surprised her he spent an hour with her male relatives without telling her. Then she was even more annoyed when her brother told her it had been about his arrangements for their parents.
“Every time Uncle raised an objection, Theo said, ‘I thought of that, but...’ Uncle underestimated him. We all underestimated you.” He eyed her like he couldn’t imagine how his disreputable sister had landed such a catch.
She quizzed Theo later on when he’d turned into a chauvinist and why he’d kept her from a meeting that impacted her.
“Two reasons,” he said without apology. “First, I wanted your uncle to know that he can’t manipulate you with guilt or fear any longer. You won’t be padding his life with your earnings because I will provide your parents with their own home and income and a care aid for your father. If your uncle finds himself suffering financially, and needs to ask you for help, that will be at your discretion. You have the power now, not him.”
“Oh.” She was too overwhelmed by the sense of shackles falling off her body to know what else to say. “And the other reason?”
“I’m so angry with the way he treated you, I don’t want you in the same room with him.”
She didn’t cross paths with her uncle much. All of them were so busy with the nearly two hundred guests that swelled the hotel to capacity. Cousins from both sides took over the two lower floors, work associates of the Makricostas’ flew in from all four corners, and friends of Jaya’s arrived wide-eyed with awe from Bali and Marseilles. Quentin and Bina were the last to arrive and Theo arranged for them to stay with his family, knowing there might be awkwardness with Jaya’s.
It was a heart wrenching moment when Jaya’s aunt, Saranya’s mother, greeted Bina with open arms. Jaya grew tearful during the reception, recalling the way the little girl had broken down in her grandmother’s arms, both of them united in grief. Bina had missed out on so much living in Saranya’s exile, but her family connections were being restored now. Saranya would have been so happy.
“Jaya,” she heard near her ear just before a broad hand settled on her waist and Theo’s wide shoulders loomed to block out the Grand Ballroom. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and smiled through her tears. “Just wishing Saranya could be here to see how happy you’ve made me. You’ve given me back my family, Theo. They’re healing rifts that have broken us apart for years. Thank you.”
“I wanted that for you.” His smile was so tender, she barely felt the knife of knowing he deliberately surrounded her with love from other sources so she wouldn’t miss his.
“But you didn’t expect all this, did you?” she said, sheepish at how she’d taken him at his word and put together a wedding that married their two cultures as well as themselves.
He glanced around the room draped in red silk curtains. Gold beads dangled in strings from the ceiling like sunlight caught in raindrops. Children were trying out the bride and groom’s thronelike chairs under the floral covered mandap. Brilliant saris competed with designer gowns as people danced and stole exotic treats from the circulating waiters.
“This is definitely more socializing than I can typically swallow, but I’m not sorry. Everything is very beautiful.” His gaze came back to her, his admiration evident in his slow, studied perusal. “Especially you. I don’t know why I never pictured you like this, so exotic. You’re breathtaking.” His gaze paused on the pendant of her maang tikka dangling off the line of pearls in the part in her hair.
“You must feel like you’ve married a stranger.” She lifted a hand to check her red-and-gold headscarf hadn’t slipped. His gaze followed the sound of her abundant gold bangles clattering against the red and faux ivory ones anchored on her wrist. She felt like a pack mule, she wore so much heavy, ornate jewelry.
He looked striking himself, not wearing a turban or pyjama, but he was carrying a sword over his white morning coat.
“Thank you for including Adara and Rowan in the henna party. When they heard it was supposed to be only for the bride’s family, they were devastated.”
“They’re my friends. Of course I would invite them.” In truth, they were quickly becoming as close as sisters to her. “Did they tell you I could barely make it through having my feet painted?” All the women had bonded with laughter when it turned out Jaya’s feet were so ticklish, she’d had to keep stopping the artist and making her work on others until she could withstand another few minutes of torture.
“They said my initials are hidden somewhere in the design. I can’t wait to look for them.” His smoky voice poured a wash of electric tingles over her.
She ducked her head, embarrassed by how badly she was anticipating being alone with him. Naked. It had been almost two years and so much had changed, her body, her feelings