The Greek Bridegroom

What would she do if he drew her into his arms and covered that pretty mouth with his own? Undoubtedly she’d react like a frightened gazelle, he decided grimly.

What damage had her ex-husband done to kill her natural spontaneity? Something hardened inside him at the array of possibilities, resulting in a surge of anger against a man he’d never met.

‘We’ll take my car.’

‘I’ve hired a vehicle for the duration of my stay,’ Jace said smoothly, and glimpsed her faint disconcerted glance before it was quickly masked.

She wanted to retain control. It made her feel secure, and she suppressed the momentary uneasiness at Jace’s increasing ability to undermine her confidence.

Together they walked through the entrance doors, and Jace led her towards a gleaming Jaguar, unlocked the passenger door and saw her seated, then he crossed in front of the car and slid in behind the wheel.

Rebekah’s awareness of him became more pronounced within the close confines of the car, and she banked down the onset of nervous tension. Difficult, when her pulse had already increased its beat and she could feel the thud of her heart.

This was madness. She should have said an emphatic no, and, failing that, not left it until the last minute to rescind his invitation.

Except on reflection, his inaccessibility hadn’t really given her much choice.

In the restaurant, Jace deferred to her preference in wine, ordered, then requested the menu.

Rebekah wasn’t sure she could eat a thing, for her digestive system seemed to be in a mildly chaotic state. And it wasn’t just her digestive system!

Oh, move along, an inner voice prompted. You’re here with him. At least try to enjoy the evening. Pretend. Surely it can’t be too difficult. You managed OK last night.

Yes, but then Luc and Ana had been present. Now she was on her own, and she’d been out of the social scene for too long. It was two years since she’d exercised her social skills to any great degree. One date soon after her divorce had proven to be disastrous, and at the time she’d vowed not to repeat it.

‘Tell me what made you choose to be a florist.’

She took a sip of superb chardonnay, and replaced the goblet onto the table. Blooms and Bouquets…she could do shop-talk. ‘The perfection of professionally grown blooms, their textures, colours and scents. The skill in assembling them together so the image conveys something special to the person to whom they’re gifted.’

Jace watched her features become animated, her blue eyes deepen and gleam like blue topaz as she elaborated on her craft. Did she know how attractive she was? Or how deeply she appealed to him?

On every level, not just the physical.

‘The pleasure, comfort and solace they provide for every occasion,’ she continued, smiling in reflection of the many memories she’d shared where warmth and the sheer joy of making someone’s day a little brighter became paramount.

‘One imagines there’s a downside?’ he probed, and watched as she wrinkled her nose.

‘Early starts, long days on your feet, dish-pan hands from having them constantly in and out of water.’ She offered him a wry smile. ‘Difficult customers who are impossible to please. The rush to get orders out on time. Incorrect addresses, mistakes made with deliveries by the courier.’ She effected a negligible shrug. ‘Like any business, there are the accompanying problems.’

The waiter delivered their starters, and they each began eating. The prawn cocktail was succulent with a delicate sauce on a bed of shredded lettuce, and Jace forked his with evident enjoyment.

Did he enjoy women as much as he enjoyed food? She almost choked at the thought. Where had that come from?

She lifted her goblet and took a sip of wine. ‘Your turn, I think.’

He set his empty dish aside and regarded her with a thoughtful gaze. ‘New York-born to Greek immigrant parents. Graduated from university with a degree in business management.’

Rebekah held his gaze and attempted to define what lay beneath his composed exterior. ‘The condensed version,’ she acknowledged. ‘Business management covers a broad spectrum.’

‘I specialise in takeovers and buy-outs.’

‘Large companies with their backs against the wall?’

‘Something like that.’

‘It fits,’ she said simply.

‘On what do you base that assumption?’

‘You have a ruthless streak,’ she inclined with thoughtful contemplation, aware it was more than that. Leashed strength meshed with an animalistic sense of power, a combination which boded ill for any adversary.

‘I imagine you wheel and deal with cut-throat determination.’ She paused a beat. ‘Mostly you win.’ She doubted he ever lost…unless it was a deliberate tactical manoeuvre.

‘An interesting character analysis,’ Jace accorded with musing cynicism.

The waiter removed dishes, and the wine steward refilled their goblets.

Soft piano music provided a pleasant background for the muted buzz of conversation.

‘You have family in New York?’

‘Parents, one brother, two sisters, and several nieces and nephews.’

Was he removed from them, too caught up being a high-flying entrepreneur and too involved in his own life?

‘My mother insists we all get together once a fortnight for a family dinner,’ Jace drawled. ‘Madness and mayhem would be an accurate description.’

‘But fun?’ She had a mental image of adults laughing, chiding children, noisy chatter and a table groaning with food and wine.

‘Very much so.’

Did he take his women…it had to be plural, although presumably he was discriminative…to visit?

‘Not often, no.’

Rebekah endeavoured to still her surprise, and failed. ‘You read minds?’

‘It’s an acquired skill.’

‘One in which you excel.’

Jace inclined his head, but there was no arrogance apparent, just the assurance of a man well-versed in the vagaries of human nature and possessed of the ability to deal with them.

It was during dessert that Rebekah happened to glance towards the restaurant entrance. Afterwards she couldn’t say what drew her attention there. Instinct, perhaps? Some deep, inner, protective element alerting her to danger?

For a few heart-stopping seconds she prayed she was mistaken, but she’d have known that profile anywhere, the angle of his head…

‘What is it?’