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‘Are you married, Ms Andersen?’
Belle blinked, the sound of Loukas’s voice releasing her from the enchantment of his mesmerising sensuality so that she was once more aware of her surroundings. She heard the clink of glasses as a waiter passed by their table, the cry of a gull strutting along the quay.
Dear heaven! She closed her eyes briefly and dragged oxygen into her lungs, her heart hammering. For a few heart-stopping seconds she had thought that Loukas was going to kiss her. His face was so close to hers that when he spoke his breath whispered across her lips, and she imagined him closing the gap between them and slanting his mouth over hers. She felt almost bereft that he had not.
‘No…no, I’m not,’ she mumbled, finding herself reluctant to sit back in her seat and break the tangible, indefinable something that quivered in the air between them. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I wondered whether your passion…’ he hesitated fractionally, his eyes lingering on her mouth ‘…for designing wedding gowns stems from your own experience as a bride.’
Belle shook her head firmly. ‘My passion is for art and creativity. I am inspired by history. At the moment I’m especially influenced by the sumptuous extravagance of the Palace of Versailles at the time of Louis XIV. The château is renowned as one of the most stunning examples of eighteenth-century French art. I’ve visited several times and come away with ideas that I’ve incorporated into my designs. My aspiration is to transform the images in my head and make dresses that are incredibly beautiful, yet wearable. I think a bride needs to feel comfortable on her big day and confident that her dress works on a practical level—’
She broke off and gave a rueful smile when she realised that she had been talking non-stop. ‘There you are,’ she said sheepishly, embarrassed by a display of enthusiasm that she was sure made her sound like a gauche teenager rather than a professional businesswoman. ‘I’m afraid I tend to get carried away by my passion.’
In the silence that followed her words she was aware of the tension that smouldered like glowing embers between her and Loukas, ready to catch light at any moment. Her senses seemed to be attuned to him, so that she was conscious of the faint acceleration of his breathing and the subtle scent of his cologne. Her heart-rate quickened and she could feel her cheeks grow warm, as if molten heat was coursing through her veins. What was the matter with her? she asked herself angrily. She had met attractive men before. But none had ever made such an impact on her as Loukas Christakis.
Belle’s passion for her designing was undeniable, Loukas brooded, unable to tear his eyes from her lovely face. Maybe he should he forget his reservations about employing an unknown designer and trust Larissa’s judgement?
‘How did my sister come to hear of you?’ he asked abruptly.
‘She saw some of my dresses featured in the fashion magazine Style Icon.’
Loukas’s brows rose in surprise. ‘You must be more well-known than I thought if your work caught the attention of the editor of Style Icon. The magazine is reputed to be the world’s top-selling fashion bible.’
‘Well, it was a bit of luck, really,’ Belle explained honestly. ‘My brother was working on a wedding shoot for the magazine. You might have heard of him? Dan Townsend? He’s making quite a name for himself as a fashion photographer. When one of the designers dropped out at the last minute, Dan persuaded the editor of Style Icon to use some dresses from my collection.’
Against his will Loukas found himself intrigued by Belle. Her personal life was of no interest to him, he reminded himself, yet for some inexplicable reason he wanted to know more about her. ‘Why do you and your brother have different names?’
Belle hesitated. There was no shame in admitting the truth, she reminded herself. The fact that she was illegitimate was not her fault. It had been her choice to change her surname by deed poll from Townsend to her mother’s maiden name of Andersen when she had discovered the truth of her identity.
‘We have different fathers.’
It was the one thing that had saddened her when she had learned that John was not her biological father. But Dan had insisted it did not matter. ‘You’re still my sister, even if technically we’re only half-siblings,’ he had told her gently. ‘And look on the bright side—at least you’re not related to the most unpleasant man on the planet. I have to live with the knowledge that because Mum chose to remain married to my father you never knew your father.’
Nor would she ever know now. Her mother had died and taken the identity of the man she had had an affair with to her grave, Belle thought sadly. She had no way of finding out who her real father was, although she had thought about him endlessly during the past three years—since John had made his stunning revelation on the day of her mother’s funeral that she was not his daughter.
If only Gudrun had told her the truth… She quickly blocked off that pathway of thought. It was pointless to feel angry with her mother, ridiculous to feel betrayed by the woman she had adored. Gudrun had obviously believed she was doing the right thing when she had allowed Belle to grow up believing that John Townsend was her father.
But her mother had been forced to make a stark choice, Belle acknowledged. She knew now that John had threatened to deny Gudrun any contact with Dan if she broke up their marriage. He had agreed to bring up the child she had conceived with her lover as his own if she stayed with him.
No woman should ever be faced with the prospect of losing her child, Belle brooded. Gudrun had put her love for her son before her personal happiness, but because of that Belle had endured a miserable childhood, wondering why the man she believed was her father seemed to despise her. What a tangled mess it had been, she thought sadly. All brought about because her mother had married the wrong man. Gudrun’s diary had revealed that she had known within a few months of the wedding that her marriage to John had been a mistake, but by then she had been pregnant with Dan and so had been trapped in a loveless relationship.
She would never make the same mistake, Belle vowed. She loved designing beautiful, romantic wedding gowns, but the idea of giving up her independence for a man held no appeal whatsoever. Especially a man like Loukas Christakis. The thought slid into her head as she glanced across the table and felt her stomach dip at the sight of his hard-boned features. He was the most breathtakingly handsome man she had ever laid eyes on, and she was sure he could be charming and charismatic when it suited him, but he was too forceful for her liking—too controlling—too much of a reminder of the man she had grown up believing to be her father.
She was wasting her time here. The rigid set of Loukas’s square jaw told her that. Disappointment settled like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach and she suddenly felt desperate to escape his brooding presence. She drank the rest of her juice, set the glass down on the table and picked up her bag. ‘All right, Mr Christakis. You win. If I take the next ferry back to Athens I may be able to catch a flight to London this evening.’ She paused and then asked huskily, ‘Can we make up an excuse for Larissa to explain why I’m not available to make her dress—a family emergency or something? I don’t want her to think that I simply didn’t turn up—which I’m sure you would allow her to believe,’ she added accusingly.
Loukas did not reply immediately, and in the silence that stretched between them his slate-grey gaze gave no clue to his thoughts. ‘It matters to you what Larissa thinks?’ he queried at last.
‘Of course it does.’ Belle gave him an impatient look. ‘Your sister is a lovely person, and I’d hate her to think I’d let her down like her first designer did. I know you’ll tell me it’s none of my business, but I think you’re wrong to interfere in her life—even if you have the best intentions for doing so,’ she continued firmly when Loukas gave her a dark glare. ‘There’s a fine line between wanting to protect her and being too controlling, and you could find that Larissa will start to resent you for preventing her from making her own decisions.’
‘You’re right. My relationship with my sister is absolutely none of your business,’ Loukas growled, irritated that her words had struck a nerve. He did not want to control Larissa; it was a ridiculous suggestion. He simply wanted to do what was best for her and take care of her—as he had promised his parents he would.
His mind turned to the past—to memories that still tugged on his soul. ‘You have to be a man now, son, and look after your mother and sister,’ his father had choked while the life had slipped from his body as fast as the blood had gushed from the gunshot wound to his stomach—courtesy of a couple of young punks high on crack. Loukas had been sixteen then, terrified of the responsibility that had been thrust upon him and ravaged with grief for his beloved Papa.
Two years later his mother had clutched his arm with a hand that was so thin he had been able to see every vein beneath her papery skin. Her cancer had been diagnosed too late for her to have a chance, and without health insurance or money to pay for the drugs that might have prolonged her life a little the end had come quickly. ‘Take care of Larissa,’ had been the last words she had whispered. And standing by her bed, watching helplessly as she left the world, Loukas had given her his word.
How dared Belle Andersen criticise him? he thought furiously. She could have no idea what he had felt like at eighteen, knowing that he was totally responsible for his six-year-old sister. Life had been tough, and there had been many nights when he had been unable to sleep, scared that he wasn’t strong enough to cope.
Of course he was over-protective of Lissa, he thought savagely. He’d had first-hand experience of how dangerous the world could be when he had witnessed his father’s murder. But Belle’s warning that Larissa might resent what she had termed his interference played on his mind. He recalled his sister’s excitement when she had told him that Belle was coming to Aura to design her wedding dress.
Gamoto! he cursed silently. Maybe Belle had a point when she had said that Lissa should be free to make her own decisions. Maybe it was time he learned to take a step back and accept that his sister was no longer a child. Besides, what could go wrong? Belle would be on Aura, under his watchful gaze. She had said she was prepared to work night and day to complete Larissa’s dress, and he would make sure she fulfilled her promise.
Once again his eyes were drawn to Belle’s mouth, and he felt his body tighten with desire as he imagined plundering those soft pink lips. He could not deny his sizzling sexual attraction to her—and, more intriguingly, his instincts told him that she was as aware as he was of the white-hot chemistry between them.
Belle stood up from the table and held out her hand to Loukas. ‘I’d like my phone back, please,’ she said briskly. ‘I need to ring the airport and see if I can change my return flight.’
He donned his sunglasses and got to his feet before he dropped her phone into her palm. His fingers only brushed against her hand for a few seconds but the contact of his skin against hers sent a tingling sensation up her arm. Belle jerked her hand back so quickly that she almost dropped her phone. She felt hot all over, every nerve ending quivering with her fierce awareness of him. Get a grip, she told herself impatiently, infuriated that he dominated her senses.
He was so tall. Now that they were both standing once more, Belle was struck anew by his size, his undoubted strength and his sheer, virile masculinity. Maybe it was a good thing she was going home, she thought shakily. She seemed incapable of controlling her body’s response to Loukas—a fact that became shamefully obvious when she glanced down and saw the outline of her nipples jutting beneath the silky material of her jacket.
Face flaming, she crossed her arms defensively over her chest and began to scroll through the contacts in her phone’s memory, searching for the number for Athens airport.
‘Stop messing about and come with me now if you want a lift to Aura.’
She snapped her head up to find that Loukas was already holding the larger of her suitcases, and while she gaped at him he rounded the table, picked up her other case, and walked out of the bar.
‘Wait…’ His long stride had already taken him across the road. Belle teetered after him, cursing her vertiginous heels and the uneven cobbled surface of the quay. ‘I don’t understand.’
She finally caught up with him, and her heart lurched when he glanced down and subjected her to a cool stare. He was so incredibly good-looking, she thought helplessly. She was embarrassed by her reaction to him, but could not tear her eyes from the sculpted perfection of his hard-boned features.
‘Do you mean I can make Larissa’s dress?’ She was confused by his sudden about-face, but why else would he have offered to take her to his island? ‘Aren’t you worried that I’ll dupe your sister out of a fortune—like that Toula woman did—and then disappear, leaving her without a wedding dress?’ she demanded bitterly, still fuming at his treatment of her.
‘No, I’m not worried about that.’ They had reached the edge of the quay and Loukas dropped her cases into his boat before turning to face her. ‘I have every confidence that you will design the wedding gown of Larissa’s dreams and make her very happy. Because if you don’t—’ his hard smile sent a shiver down Belle’s spine ‘—you will answer to me.’
Belle finally lost control of her temper. Loukas Christakis wasn’t just insulting and arrogant, he was a bully who clearly enjoyed bossing people around. But she’d been pushed around by John Townsend all her childhood—sometimes literally, she remembered grimly. She wasn’t going to put up with it again from any man.
‘Are you threatening me, Mr Christakis?’ she demanded, placing her hands on her hips and wishing fervently that she was taller and did not have to tilt her head to meet his gaze.
‘Merely warning you,’ he said silkily. ‘Disappoint me, and more importantly Larissa, and I promise you will find it impossible to gain financial backing for Wedding Belle anywhere in the world.’
She believed him. His wealth and his status as one of the most brilliant and ruthless businessmen of the decade gave him that kind of power. She had no doubt that he could destroy her little company as easily as he could crush an ant beneath his shoe.
‘Well? Are you coming? I haven’t got all day for you to make up your mind.’
She gave a start at the sound of his faintly mocking tone and realised that he had jumped into the boat and was holding out his hand to help her step on board. She would love to tell him to take a running jump, Belle thought viciously, preferably over the edge of a high cliff. But the stark truth was that she needed this job. If she could not start to pay back her business loan to the bank Wedding Belle would collapse without any help from Loukas.
In her high heels and pencil skirt there was no way she could climb into the boat without his help. Reluctantly she leaned forward to take his hand, and gave a startled cry when, having lost patience with her dithering, Loukas gripped her waist and swung her down from the quay.
The few seconds that he held her against him scrambled her brain, and the feel of his muscular torso and rock-hard thighs pressed so intimately close to her body was causing a coiling sensation deep in her pelvis. She snatched a breath when he set her down and gave him a fulminating glare, desperate to hide her awareness of him. ‘Thank you,’ she said icily, ‘but I could have managed perfectly well, Mr Christakis—’
‘Nonsense.’ He cut her off mid-tirade. ‘You’re as wobbly as a newborn foal in those ridiculous shoes. And you’d better make it Loukas. My sister was keen that I should welcome you to Aura, and she’ll expect us to be on first-name terms—Belle.’
Something about the way he said her name sent a little quiver through Belle, and his amused smile stole her breath. Already devastatingly sexy, the sudden upward curve of his sensual mouth caused her knees to sag, and she could feel her heart thundering as if she’d run a marathon.
‘You’d better hold on to this before the wind whips it away.’ Loukas lifted the elegant cream and black hat from Belle’s head, and stiffened when pale gold hair unfurled and fell almost to her waist in a silken stream. He had been right about her being a blonde. In the sunlight her hair was the colour of platinum. It seemed unlikely that the shade was natural, but she was so tiny compared to his six-foot-four frame that her head only came halfway up his chest, and he could see no telltale sign of darker roots on her scalp.
The breeze blew a few fair strands across her face and, unable to stop himself, Loukas reached out and brushed the hair back from her cheek. Time was suspended. Belle’s heart stopped beating as she stared into dark grey eyes that were no longer cold and hard as tensile steel, but glinting with a blatant sexual heat that evoked a shameful longing inside her for him to pull her into his arms and plunder her mouth with the savage passion she sensed he was capable of.
How could she be attracted to him when he was everything she hated? It was just a physical thing, she assured herself frantically—a chemical reaction that she had no control over. But somehow she would have to ignore her sexual attraction to Loukas if she was not going to spend the next week embarrassing herself by ogling him like a teenager with a severe crush.
The throb of the boat’s engine seemed to reverberate through her, and she gripped the edge of her seat as he opened the throttle and sped out of the harbour, heading towards the small island of Aura—a green haven set amid the sparkling blue sea. Her hair whipping across her face, Belle glanced back at Kea, already far behind them. Sudden panic flooded through her and she felt an impending sense of unease that her life would never be the same again once she had set foot on Loukas Christakis’s private domain.
CHAPTER THREE
‘MOST of this side of Aura is covered in forest,’ Loukas explained as they approached the island and Belle remarked on the distinctive dark green cypress trees that flanked the shoreline, standing like silent sentinels guarding the land.
There was no beach; the grey rocky cliffs sloped down to the sea, forming a natural harbour where a wooded jetty had been built. The sea appeared a brilliant turquoise colour from a distance, but as Loukas steered the boat into the shallows the water was so crystal-clear that Belle could see shoals of tiny fish darting like silver arrows. Fascinated by them, she leaned over and trailed her hand in the water, watching their scales glint and gleam in the sunlight.
‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ she murmured, pushing her long hair over her shoulder.
Loukas fought the urge to run his fingers through the silky blonde strands, and concentrated on tying the boat securely to a post on the jetty. ‘Speaking as the son of a fisherman, I don’t think much of them; they’d only make a couple of mouthfuls,’ he muttered.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t want to eat them. They’re far too pretty.’ Belle laughed, her resentment of Loukas’s high- handed manner forgotten as she lifted her head and glanced about her, drinking in the view of the dense blue sky and sea and the rugged grey cliffs, which at close hand she could see were covered in a profusion of tiny pink flowers. ‘What a heavenly place,’ she said softly, the tension that had gripped her when they had left Kea seeping away.
Loukas could not look away from her. A man could drown in the depths of those incredible blue eyes, he brooded. And as for her smile! It lit up her gamine face and turned her classical features from beautiful to breathtaking.
He gave an impatient snort. Trouble! He’d known that was what Belle Andersen spelt. He should have followed his first instinct when he had seen her dainty figure teetering along the quay in her stiletto heels and turned the boat around. Instead he had brought her to his home—an honour he rarely conferred upon any woman, including his mistresses. Aura was his private haven, a place of peace and tranquillity where he could relax away from the pressures of work.
Right now he felt anything but relaxed, he thought derisively as he took Belle’s hand to help her step onto the jetty, and inhaled the delicate floral fragrance of her perfume. His body had been aroused since he had lifted her into the boat at Kea and her breasts had brushed against his chest, and now, with his eyes drawn to the delightful sway of her bottom as she preceded him along the jetty, he could feel his erection straining uncomfortably beneath his jeans.
‘Theos,’ he growled beneath his breath. All he needed on top of running his business empire and arranging Larissa’s wedding was an inconvenient attraction to a beautiful blonde who had the face of an angel but possessed a surprisingly sharp tongue.
A path ran from the jetty and climbed fairly steeply, disappearing around an outcrop of rock. ‘It’s only about a five-minute walk up to the house,’ Loukas explained as he picked up both the suitcases, ‘but the path is uneven in places.’ He glanced down at Belle’s new, shiny black patent stilettos that were probably her pride and joy, and grimaced. ‘Do you think you’ll manage? You might be better to change into more sensible footwear.’
Sensible! How she hated that word, Belle thought fiercely. It took her back in time to the countless arguments she’d had with John when she had been a teenager about her shoes, clothes, make-up. ‘I won’t allow any daughter of mine to go around looking like a slut,’ had been his favourite refrain, his face turning purple with temper, and his sergeant-major bark echoing through the house. He had known, of course—although back then Belle had not—that she was not his daughter. She had been a constant reminder of her mother’s infidelity and John had taken his bitterness out on her. Heels higher than an inch had been banned, along with short skirts and tight jeans—all the modern things that her friends wore. ‘You’ll do as I say because I’m the adult and you’re a child.’
Rebelliousness had burned in Belle’s heart every time John had bossed her around, and now the supercilious expression on Loukas’s face evoked the same mutinous feeling.
‘I always wear heels, and I can walk perfectly well in them,’ she told him coolly. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage the path fine.’ Head held high, she swung round, caught her heel on a tuft of grass at the edge of the path and stumbled, only saved from falling by Loukas’s lightning reactions as he dropped the cases and grabbed her arm.
‘Yes, I can see you’re as sure-footed as a mountain goat,’ he said dryly. ‘Let’s try again—carefully. And you’d better wear this.’ He plonked her hat unceremoniously onto her head. ‘The sun is at its hottest in the late afternoon, and with your fair skin you’ll burn to the colour of a boiled lobster in no time.’
Without waiting to hear her reply he picked up the cases once more and strode ahead of her up the path, not turning his head to see if she was following.
Arrogant, pig-headed… Belle took a deep breath and marched behind him, her eyes focused on the ground to make sure she did not trip. On one hand Loukas made her feel five years old. But there had been nothing childlike about her response to him when he had lifted her into his boat, she thought ruefully, flushing as she remembered how her nipples had tingled when her breasts had brushed against his chest.
She sighed. Her unexpected attraction to Loukas was another complication to add to the fraught situation of trying to complete Larissa’s wedding dress within a very tight deadline. She could only pray Larissa had spoken the truth when she’d said that her brother spent much of his time at his offices in Athens and often stayed at his apartment in the city, because she hoped to have as little to do with him as possible.
The path wound up to the top of the cliff, and at the summit Belle paused to take in the view. An endless expanse of shimmering blue sea was on one side, dotted with islands, the closest of which was Kea. To the other side of her the landscape of Aura was mainly grey rock, green vegetation, tall, slender cypress trees and dense olive groves, beneath which grew a carpet of brilliant red spring poppies.
‘Do many people live on the island?’ she asked Loukas, who had slowed his pace so that she could catch up with him. ‘I see there is a village down in the valley.’
‘Many years ago a small community, mainly fishermen, lived here. My father was born on Aura. But Kea has a bigger harbour, and gradually everyone moved away, leaving the island uninhabited until I bought it three years ago.’
‘So no one lives in those houses?’
‘My household staff and their families live in the village now. Many of the houses were in a bad state of repair, but I have a team of builders who are gradually restoring them. There is also a church where Larissa will be married.’
‘I hope it’s a big one,’ Belle commented. ‘Larissa told me that hundreds of guests have been invited to the wedding.’
Loukas grimaced. ‘Yes, her fiancé has a huge extended family, most of whom Lissa has never met before. The church is tiny, and most of the guests will be seated in the square outside for the actual ceremony, but the reception will be at the villa, where there is much more room.’
Belle gave him a surprised look, wondering how big his villa was. ‘Will there be room for so many guests to stay at your house?’
‘Theos, no!’ His horrified expression at the idea of his home being invaded by guests was almost comical, and made him seem a little more human, she mused, desperately trying to fight her awareness of him as she studied his superbly chiselled features. ‘Most people will stay in Athens or on Kea. I’ve chartered a fleet of helicopters to ferry guests over to Aura, and some people will arrive by boat.’
‘It sounds a logistical nightmare. Wouldn’t it have been easier to have the wedding in Athens?’
Loukas shrugged. ‘Probably. But Larissa wanted to be married here, and I’ll move heaven and earth to give her the wedding she wants.’
Belle stared at him, startled by the sudden huskiness in his voice. There could be no doubt that Loukas adored his sister. The emotion blazing in his eyes was strangely humbling and made her wonder if she had misjudged him. Perhaps he wasn’t as controlling as she had first thought? Certainly it seemed important to him that Larissa’s wedding should be perfect.
They walked on in silence, the path wider now so that they were side by side. The views from the clifftop, of the sea and across the island, were stunning, and Belle was not surprised that Larissa wanted to hold her wedding in such a beautiful place. It was not Larissa Christakis who occupied her thoughts, however, but her brother.
‘You said that your father was born here on Aura, but I take it that you were not?’
‘No, the island had been abandoned long before then. I was born on Kea and spent my early childhood there. Larissa was also born there, but she has no memories of the place because we moved to America when she was very young.’
‘Why did your family leave Greece?’ Belle asked curiously.
‘To make a living.’ Loukas’s mouth tightened as he silently acknowledged the bitter irony of that statement. ‘My father’s fishing boat had been wrecked in a storm and he couldn’t afford to buy a new one. But without a boat he couldn’t fish and make money to feed his family. A distant cousin owned a grocery store in New York. Xenos arranged for us to move there so that my parents could run the shop, and when he died he left it to them.’
‘It must have been a big change, moving from a small island to a city. I moved house dozens of times when I was growing up, because my stepfather was in the army and we lived wherever he was stationed.’ She had hated being the new girl at school, always trying to fit in and make friends, Belle remembered. ‘I would have found it even harder to settle in a new country.’ She glanced towards the turquoise sea shimmering in the sunshine. ‘Didn’t you miss all this?’
‘Every day. But I was young and better able to cope with the change.’ His voice deepened. ‘It broke my father’s heart to leave Greece.’
‘He must have been pleased when you bought Aura—his birthplace.’
Loukas hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. The basic facts about his background could be found by anyone who chose to research him on the internet. ‘He never knew. My father died eighteen months after we moved to the States, and my mother followed him to the grave two years later.’
His voice was so devoid of emotion that Belle shot him a startled glance. Despite the heat from the sun she shivered, sadness sweeping over her at the thought that Loukas’s father had never come home, never seen again this beautiful place.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know—’ She broke off abruptly. There was no reason why she should have known about the tragedy that had torn Loukas’s family apart. She had met him less than an hour ago, they were strangers, so why did her heart ache for him? And why was she so sure that he concealed his pain behind his unfathomable grey gaze? Perhaps because she had learned to hide her own heartbreak at her mother’s death and pretend that she wasn’t hurting inside, she thought bleakly.
Another thought struck her. ‘Larissa can’t have been very old when your parents died. Who looked after her?’
Loukas had started walking again, and Belle fell in step beside him. ‘I did. There was no one else. She barely remembers our father, and I have tried to be a father figure to her. But she missed having a mother. She still does—especially now, as she prepares for her wedding.’ He gave a heavy sigh. ‘You know how it is—there’s a special bond between mothers and daughters.’
His words touched a raw nerve. A lump formed in Belle’s throat and for a moment she could not speak. ‘Yes,’ she said at last in a low tone. ‘I know how it is.’ She stared at the horizon, the sharp line between the sea and the sky blurring as tears filled her eyes. She had shared a special bond with her mother—or at least she had believed she had. But in all those years that she was growing up, during all those mother-and-daughter shopping trips and girly chats, Gudrun had never revealed the truth about her father. The feeling of betrayal burned in her heart as fiercely as the pain of grief.
