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The Bridegroom's Vow
The Bridegroom's Vow
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The Bridegroom's Vow

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“Call me as often as you can.”

“Okay. I love you, Mom. Thanks for the advice.”

“It’s more than advice, darling. It’s a warning.”

Tears swamped Alex’s cheeks as she left the house and drove off with those words ringing in her ears. All the way to New York she relived the conversation with her mother. The fissure had cracked open wide, wide, wide.

What a fool Alex had been. Four years had come and gone. She was still forgettable to Dimitrios.

But if he never gave her another thought after she left his employ, she was determined he’d remember the fruit of her labors.

For the last eight months she’d given the international textile fair her all. She hoped it would make Greece the forerunner in establishing business relations on a global scale.

Before Mrs. Landau had passed away, she’d told Alex that Dimitrios had been asked to host the trade fair at the behest of the Greek government. They needed a name guaranteed to bring success.

It was a project dear to Alex’s heart in more ways than one. She immediately went to work on it and received glowing praise from Mrs. Landau. But before the older woman could present the complete project to Dimitrios for his approval, she suffered a fatal heart attack at her home.

Her death affected everyone in the company, especially Dimitrios, who’d considered her his right hand away from Greece. Suddenly he was trying to do Mrs. Landau’s work plus his own.

When he’d asked Alex to take over as best she could, she’d sensed he felt she was a lightweight who couldn’t handle the enormous trade fair project along with her normal duties.

Fearing she’d miss the one big opportunity to make her mark, Alex rushed to assure him that she’d already worked out most of the details with Mrs. Landau. Whenever he gave the word, she would start implementing the plans.

She remembered that evening so clearly. Her mind’s eye could see the way he lounged back in his swivel chair and unfastened his tie. Fatigue lines had darkened his attractive face whose shadowed jaw gave evidence that he’d been going too hard, traveling too much without proper rest.

He stared at her with incurious eyes, causing her heart to plummet. Although he hadn’t told her no, she realized he had little faith in her abilities to take on something of such vital importance.

“Have you ever been to Greece, Ms. Hamilton?”

“No, but I have a history degree.”

In the uneasy silence that followed her response, she watched him rub his forehead as if he had a headache. No doubt he did and was barely holding on to his patience.

“Do you have something written up you can show me now, or do you need more time?”

She took a deep breath. “I’ll get the portfolio out of my office and be right back.”

Upon her return she asked if she could spread the materials out on his desk. He nodded.

The second she positioned the first twenty-by-twenty-four inch drawing in front of him, the complacency left his face. As he sat forward, his well-shaped black brows drew together.

“This isn’t Athens.” His voice trailed off.

“Was your heart set on it for the trade fair?”

Instead of answering her, he continued his perusal.

Swallowing hard she said, “That’s a rendition of medieval Thessalonica during the great Byzantine fair held in the twelfth century. Everyone came—from Constantinople, Egypt, Phoenicia, the Peloponnese.”

His head finally lifted. This time his eyes reminded her of twin black fires. “You drew this?”

“It’s only a sketch. I thought because Thessalonica is your home, it would be exciting and fitting to recreate that same fair with colorful merchant booths and flags from every country participating. The whole city can get involved by providing local foods and drinks, everyone in native costume. Troubadours, music, dancing.

“Since it was the great cultural center then and still is today, I can’t think of another place in Greece more appropriate to host a trade fair, certainly not one of this magnitude.”

She placed a sketch of a closeup of the bay in front of him. “We could invite the countries around the Mediterranean and as far away as Scandinavia to bring their restored ships and anchor them here like they once did. Everyone can go aboard to see their wares.

“It will be like stepping back in time, but the products will be the latest in materials and textiles from around the world.

“We’ll launch a massive ad campaign on the Internet with each country having its own Web page to list their products. I’ve already procured Web addresses. People who aren’t able to attend can place orders.

“Think what it would mean economically to the Greek Island cottage industries for example, not to mention new world markets. Of course the pièce de résistance will be this.” He hadn’t interrupted her yet, so she whipped out her next drawing.

“Follow the silk road from Thessalonica to Soufli. At various points along the route, the delegations will set up their silk exhibits. Visits to the mulberry tree farm and the silk mansion in Soufli will be the highlight of the tour.

“The weather will be warm and perfect in September. Imagine the streets of Soufli lined with booths showing every stage from the secretions of the silkworm, to the silk thread ending up as a cravate or a gown.

“We’ll woo the media ahead of time so there’ll be a blitz that hits airwaves around the wor—”

“Ms. Hamilton.” He cut in on her.

Her body broke out in a cold sweat. He didn’t like it. Afraid to look at him, she said, “Yes?”

“What you’ve put together here is nothing short of sheer genius. In fact I’m having difficulty assimilating everything all at once.”

Alex had been ready to pass out from disappointment. She still felt light-headed, except that now it was for an entirely different reason.

“Unfortunately none of this can happen without hotel space,” he muttered. “Every place of lodging in Macedonia and Thrace should have been notified months ago in order to carry out such a fantastic plan.”

“They were.”

His dark head reared back in stunned surprise.

“In Athens and the surrounding regions, too. I also notified the head of all the businesses involved, the restaurants, the universities, the musicians’ network, the transport services, port authorities, police, so they would set aside the time and plan ahead how to accommodate the huge crowds.

“I assume this is what it’s like mobilizing for war, except that in this case everyone will enjoy the spoils of victory.”

“Lord,” she heard him whisper.

“It’s a good thing we’re talking about this tonight,” she informed him. “The day after tomorrow is the final date for me to confirm or cancel everything without penalty.

“I’ve been waiting to discuss the fair with you until you’d recovered from Mrs. Landau’s passing. She was extremely fond of you, too. It should please you to know that every contact person has assured me they wouldn’t have held on this long for anyone but Dimitrios Pandakis. It’s an honor to work for you.” She had a struggle at the last to keep the emotion out of her voice.

In an unconscious gesture he raked his hands through the luxuriant black hair she longed to touch. “Here I was beginning to think you were perfect, Ms. Hamilton. Now I can see you’re not above bribery to get what you want. For that flaw, you’ve won yourself a full evening of work that could take us well into the night.”

With those words he’d just given her the first taste of her heart’s desire.

“While you arrange to have our dinner sent up, I’ll cancel my plans to attend the symphony and we’ll start again. I want to hear this from the beginning.

“Slowly this time. Detail by detail until I’ve picked that brilliant brain of yours. I can see I’ve also underestimated the value of your American university education. Did you study any languages?”

“My degree specialized in classical European history, so there were several classes I had to take in Latin and Greek.”

“You speak and understand Greek?” He sounded incredulous.

“No. But since I came to work for your company I’ve been trying to do both with the help of a tutor.”

“Who?”

“A graduate student from Athens who lives in my apartment building. He trades me lessons for meals.”

“You cook, too?”

“Yanni’s not particular.”

Alex couldn’t remember Dimitrios ever smiling at her before now. What a gorgeous man he was.

“When you call downstairs, tell the kitchen to send a gallon of coffee with the food.”

“Which brand of decaffeinated do you prefer?”

He lifted a sardonic brow. “Forget everything you learned from Mrs. Landau.”

“You don’t really mean that. I happen to know she had your very best interest at heart.”

Once more his black eyes flashed fire. “You happen to know a lot more than I thought possible.”

I sincerely hope so. Otherwise how will I ever become unforgettable to you?

More tears dripped down Alex’s face as she remembered that evening with him. He’d loved her idea and had let her run with it. But nothing else had changed in the intervening months. Nothing personal.

Her mother was right about him not being normal. Even Alex knew it was time to give up. The trade fair would have to be her swan song.

Unless she died of pain first…

Dimitrios left his New York office with the morning newspaper under his arm and rode the elevator to the parking garage level of the building.

“Ms. Hamilton hasn’t arrived yet?” he asked his driver who was waiting for them with the limo.

“I haven’t seen her, Mr. Pandakis.”

He checked his watch. No crime had been committed because it was a only few minutes past eight. It surprised him because she was the most punctual person he’d ever met.

At the end of work yesterday he’d told her he would drop by her apartment on the way to the airport to pick her up. To his surprise she’d said it wouldn’t be necessary because she’d be coming by the office early to take care of some last-minute business.

“Mr. Pandakis?”

Dimitrios turned in time to see one of the parking attendants approach him.

“Your secretary just called. She said she was running late and her friend would drive her straight to the airport.”

He blinked. No doubt Ms. Hamilton had many friends, but the only one he’d ever heard about was Yanni. A compatriot.

Besides cooking him meals in exchange for language lessons, was she his pillow friend? It might explain why she’d chosen not to call Dimitrios on her cell phone to tell him about the change in plans. Particularly not if her tutor were lying next to her having a hard time saying goodbye.

The idea that Ms. Hamilton might have a love life made her more of an enigma than ever because she’d never let it interfere with her work. For quite some time he’d been aware that she wasn’t like most women. That’s why she’d become so valuable to him.

He climbed in the back of the limo. “Let’s go to the airport.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dimitrios unfolded the paper. The first thing he noticed on the front page of the Times was a fantastic shot of three ships. At closer inspection they turned out to be a Viking longboat plus a Greek and a Roman galley moored in the bay of Thessalonica awaiting the fair. A nice-size article accompanied the photo.

He saw Ms. Hamilton’s hand in the write-up. Except to give her the okay on the project, Dimitrios really hadn’t been—

His thoughts were interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID. It was someone from the villa.

“Yassou?”

“Kalimera, Uncle. You are coming home today aren’t you?”

His nephew sounded anxious. “I’m on my way to the airport now.”

“Good. There’s a lot I have to talk to you about.”

“I take it things are still at an impasse with your mother.”

“Yes. She refuses to discuss anything with me when she doesn’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“You and I have been over this before. She’s afraid of losing you, Leon.”

“How do I convince her that couldn’t possibly happen?”

I’m not sure you can. He rubbed his eyes. “Tell you what. Tomorrow morning the three of us will sit down together and talk this out.”

“Thank you. Mother’s much better with you there. Can I pick you up at the airport?”

Dimitrios wasn’t immune to the pleading in his nephew’s voice. “It will be late. I’ll have my secretary with me.”

“Where’s she staying?”

“I’ve booked her at the Mediterranean Palace.”

“No problem. We’ll run her by there on our way home, but it may take us a while. The traffic’s horrendous. You’re going to be surprised at what you see when you get here. The city’s been transformed while you’ve been in New York.”

“I’m looking forward to viewing the finished product.”

“Besides all the booths that have gone up, the buildings and churches, even the White Tower is festooned with pennants and medieval banners. The city’s been invaded with people, and there are six ships in port now.