Illicit Night with the Greek

“Your family is very proud of you and they want you to have the best of everything. You deserve it,” she said huskily as the words caught in her throat. Dimos had understood the rules very early on and, more importantly, had followed them. In return, he was rewarded handsomely.

She wondered what it was like to be loved and accepted by family. She wanted that now more than ever. Jodie had yearned for a wisp of connection with her parents but she had waited for them to make the first move. She now regretted her lack of action when her mother had died suddenly of a heart attack several months ago. Jodie knew she had to do something immediately if she wanted to have a relationship with her father, her only living relative. She would have to be the first to apologize, to yield, to change.

But what kind of sacrifices would she have to make to have her father accept her? How much would she have to hide about herself to be considered lovable?

Dimos’s smile dipped as the light dimmed from his eyes. “That’s very kind of you, Jodie. Especially after what happened between us.”

Shock washed over her and she fought for a mildly interested expression. She hadn’t been prepared for Dimos—for any Antoniou—to mention that night. Jodie wanted to cross her arms and back away but she was immobile. The only thing she felt was the pressure of her fingertips as they pressed against the cool surface of her water glass.

Dimos shoved his hand in his hair and looked away. “I did not handle the situation well,” he confessed in a low tone.

She fought the urge to find a quick getaway. “No one did,” she mumbled. She had been branded a Jezebel, a woman determined to snag an Antoniou man for a husband and ruin any potential marriages that had been carefully orchestrated. After that night she had been considered extremely dangerous to the Antoniou family’s future.

“I didn’t know that one of the maids had seen us.”

Jodie blinked. That was what he was apologizing for? That they had been caught? Interrupted? She pressed her lips together before she said anything. It was tempting to give a scathing reply but she had to be on her best behavior.

“I couldn’t believe that maid went and told Stergios.” Bitter anger bloomed in Dimos’s voice. “What had she been thinking?”

Jodie wondered if she might bite her tongue off as she fought back the words. The maid had known exactly what Dimos’s intentions had been. Jodie wished she had figured it out earlier. She had seen Dimos as a cousin who helped her navigate a big family, not as a viable lover.

“And I know this is years too late, but I should have spoken up.” Dimos splayed out his hands. “I didn’t realize you would have been severely punished.”

She was wrong, Jodie decided. Dimos was still immature for his age. Her jaw hurt as she fought to remain silent and took a small sip from her water glass. She wanted to point out that she had never encouraged him, or that it was never too late to right a wrong. He could have protected her from the fallout at any time. But that wouldn’t have served him.

And if there was something she had learned over the years, especially after that infamous night, it was that men didn’t understand the meaning of honor, respect or protection. They pursued, they took what they could get and they got out fast.

“So, how long are you planning to stay in Greece?” Dimos asked with a puzzled expression when she didn’t respond.

She darted a glance at her father standing among the older Antoniou men. Her first goal was to ask for forgiveness for her past behavior but she didn’t know if her father would give her the chance. “I’m not sure,” she murmured. “My plans aren’t set in stone.”

“Then you must come to my wedding,” he said, his eyes widening with enthusiasm.

Jodie raised her hand to halt that line of thinking. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude?” Dimos laughed. “That’s not possible. You’re family.”

She wished it were true. She wished she didn’t have this need to belong somewhere. To belong with someone. She had always been the outsider. The burden. She was used to it, and at times wore the label like a badge of honor, but everything changed after her mother’s death. She wanted to be loved, accepted and part of a family.

“You must agree,” Dimos insisted.

“Jodie must agree to what?”

She went still when she heard the low, masculine voice. Stergios Antoniou was here. She swallowed hard. He was standing next to her. Her pulse began to gallop as her stomach made a sickening turn. Her skin went hot and then cold but she refused to look in his direction.

“I invited her to my wedding,” Dimos said with a touch of defiance.