Her grandfather phoned her when she returned home, telling her with positive good cheer that he had deposited sufficient funds in her bank account to cover what he called ‘wedding fripperies.’ ‘All you have to do is buy your and your sisters’ dresses. I will take care of everything else.’
In that assumption, however, Stamboulas Fotakis discovered himself to be sadly mistaken because Winnie’s future husband informed him that the ceremony of marriage had to take place on the island of Trilis because it had been where his ancestors had married. Stam had never viewed Nevrakis as a sentimental man but on that one point the younger man was stubbornly immovable, and Stam knew that he could hardly refuse his future grandson-in-law the right to use the island and the house he had already promised him because it would be a sign of bad faith. Exasperated, Winnie’s grandfather found himself having to adjust his plans to fit someone else’s and it had been a very long time since Stam had suffered through that experience and bitten his tongue.
Perfectly conscious that he was creating waves, Eros flew out to Greece and organised a helicopter to take him out to the private island where no Nevrakis of his acquaintance had set foot in over thirty years. Even when his parents had still been together they had not visited the island because his father had very much preferred city life. The house had been renovated in the eighties, presumably sometime after Winnie’s grandfather had acquired ownership, and since then it had been maintained in pristine condition, so, on that score, Eros had no complaints. The property was fully fit for occupation and for wedding catering.
Eros stood on the cliff gazing out to sea, enjoying the sunlight slowly tapering into a peach-coloured sunset while he thought with satisfaction about showing that same view to his son and to his wife. He was certain that Winnie had absolutely no idea of her grandfather’s intention of stealing her and Teddy back on their wedding day. Unfortunately for Fotakis, the minute he had gone into a rant at their first meeting, insisting that neither Winnie nor Teddy actually needed Eros in their lives, Eros had smelled a rat and acted accordingly.
Where Winnie was concerned, however, he was convinced that she did not have a single sly, cheating bone in her little curvy body. That was, after all, what had first attracted him to her, he freely acknowledged.
He could read her expressive face like a picture book. She scored low in the feminine guile and calculation stakes and she didn’t play power games like her grandfather or like many of the women Eros had met in his thirty years. No, what you saw was what you got with Winnie, unlike her grandfather, prepared to pressure a bridegroom into a wedding that he had no intention of allowing to become a marriage. Stam, however, was known for having done something similar with his eldest son, refusing to accept the wife his son had chosen and eventually becoming estranged from his own flesh and blood over his choice of partner. It was a track record that telegraphed a loud warning to Eros that he was dealing with a man who only ever paid heed to his own feelings and beliefs. He had displayed sufficient antipathy for Eros to recognise that the older man would not willingly accept him as a member of his family circle.
* * *
Winnie and her sisters went shopping. Neither Vivi nor Zoe paid the smallest heed to Winnie’s plea to keep expenses to the minimum. In fact even Zoe laughed at that suggestion, reminding Winnie that it was to be a society wedding and the last thing Stam Fotakis would want was his grandchild dressed like a bargain-basement bride. Even Winnie, nonetheless, was overwhelmed by the whole bridal-salon experience and the kind of feminine extras that there had never before been room for in her budget.
Eros phoned her around noon and Zoe answered Winnie’s phone because Winnie was being eased into a foaming mass of lace by two assistants.
‘It’s Eros...’ she said, extending the phone once Winnie had emerged again.
‘Lunch?’ Eros enquired.
‘Er...’ Tumbled and flushed, Winnie stared at herself in the full-length mirror and knew she still hadn’t found the right dress because it was too fussy and frilly for her taste. ‘I’m trying on wedding stuff,’ she muttered. ‘Today’s not good.’
‘Dinner tonight, then,’ Eros decided arrogantly.
‘No, I—’ Winnie began, keen to avoid him as much as was humanly possible.
‘I haven’t seen you since you agreed to marry me,’ Eros reminded her darkly. ‘Is there a reason for that?’
Something like panic infiltrated Winnie and she dragged in a stark breath, reminding herself that she had to play along and that avoiding him altogether wasn’t an option. ‘No, tonight will do fine. What time?’
Zoe dropped the phone back into Winnie’s bag and looked at her expectantly.
‘Dinner tonight,’ she muttered in explanation.
‘Put on your acting shoes,’ Vivi advised. ‘Of course, he’s going to expect to see you and discuss arrangements and the like.’
‘I suppose,’ Winnie mumbled grudgingly.
‘Not that dress. Makes you look like a dumpy version of a ballerina doll,’ Vivi whispered, making her older sister loose an involuntary giggle.
Even so, Winnie found it a challenge to regain her former light-hearted mood and reminded herself that it scarcely mattered what she wore to a fake wedding. But she chose a gown she liked, a sleek elegant dress that did wonders for her small curvy figure, reasoning that she needed to look her best with so many guests being invited by her grandfather and Eros.
She borrowed a dress and shoes from Zoe to wear that evening. Her own wardrobe was small and contained few smart outfits. The dress was black and unremarkable in every way, which suited her attitude to dining out with Eros.
‘It’s a funeral dress,’ Vivi scolded. ‘It’s long and it’s shapeless—’
‘And it will do fine,’ Winnie cut in impatiently.
‘Don’t mind me,’ Vivi said drily. ‘But you’re supposed to be playing the happy bride-to-be.’
‘I’m not happy about any of this,’ Winnie admitted ruefully.
‘That man is about to get exactly what he deserves!’ Vivi proclaimed vengefully.
‘Two wrongs don’t make a right,’ Zoe reasoned with a
wince, squeezing Winnie’s hand in sympathy. ‘Maybe you’ll decide to give him another chance... Who knows?’
‘Get a life, Zoe!’ Vivi exclaimed. ‘Eros wants his son, not Winnie.’
Winnie’s slight shoulders hunched and colour faded from her cheeks. That even her sisters saw that so clearly mortified her.
‘I’m sorry,’ Vivi muttered ruefully to her older sister. ‘But what else are we supposed to think? He’s divorced but he didn’t come looking for you even when he was free, did he?’
‘No,’ Winnie conceded, sucking in a steadying breath when faced with that truth again, hating herself for squirming at the reminder. What did it matter with only a fake wedding ahead of her? What did any of it matter now? She had loved him but he hadn’t loved her, the oldest story of heartbreak in the world and one of the most common, she told herself impatiently.
‘Maybe he felt guilty too,’ Zoe muttered. ‘Maybe he didn’t feel entitled to be happy after his divorce.’
‘Oh...you!’ Vivi scolded her optimistic kid sister. ‘You’d find a bright side to any catastrophe!’
None of those somewhat distressing conversations put Winnie in the mood to see Eros again. She reckoned she was oversensitive to the pain that Eros had caused her and equally thin-skinned when it came to that past being discussed because he had been a subject her siblings had staunchly avoided during the period when she was nursing a broken heart. Fortunately, she had moved on, got over him, completely got over him, she reminded herself doggedly.
It didn’t help to walk out to the limousine that was there to collect her and see Eros standing beside the open passenger door in dialogue with a man who was unmistakeably one of her grandfather’s security team. One glance at that classic bronzed profile and the sheer height and elegance of him in a formal dinner jacket and narrow black trousers and she was challenged to even swallow.