The Marriage Betrayal (The Volakis Vow 1)

important was that she was about to marry the man she loved and whose child she carried, she told herself dreamily …

CHAPTER NINE

TALLY’S choice of wedding dress had been her own. While Crystal’s bold ideas had reigned supreme in every other field, Tally had reserved the right to choose what she wore without interference.

For that reason, the dress wasn’t the most fashionable or expensive, nor was it calculated to turn heads with its daring. While Crystal was clad in designer togs from head to toe, Tally had picked an elegant lace column with a minimal train that flattered her small shapely figure. Her short veil and beaded hair ornament were equally unfussy. In addition, although the bridesmaids rather frantically threw rose petals in the bride’s path as she glided up the aisle, her mother flounced beside her in a killer silver shift dress and jacket to give her away and several flocks of doves were to be set free after the ceremony to mark the occasion, Tally exuded a wholly deceptive air of calm. Her exams were over and she was free to enjoy her day.

As she approached the altar, her outward composure was speared by warning fingers of frost when she met the cold critical appraisal of her future in-laws. Sander’s well-bred parents looked as grim as if they were attending a funeral. Her heart sank at that visible vote of disapproval and anxious pink flushed her cheeks.

She was grateful when Sander turned his handsome dark head to look at her and she rewarded that show of interest with a shy but appreciative beam.

Sander had the most beautiful dark golden eyes, she acknowledged dizzily, dazzled by the sheer charge of his masculine charisma. In only a few minutes, Sander would be her husband and she could still barely believe her good fortune. Although she had hardly seen him since the day she agreed to marry him, she appreciated the amount of hard work he had been doing; an upmarket business magazine had just published a profile of him, citing the entrepreneurial brilliance of his recent deals as well as the wide-scale expectation that he would shortly be taking the helm at Volakis Shipping. Reading that article, Tally was so proud of him that she had shown it to everyone she knew.

A sardonic cast to his lean strong face, Sander caught the shine in his bride’s eyes and the upward tilt of her full mouth and saw that she was happy, in fact overflowing with the emotion. At least someone was in a bridal mood, he reflected wryly, thinking of the stand-up row he’d had with his father, who’d wanted him to call off the wedding rather than marry a woman he had described as ‘the Karydas by-blow’. Even a reference to the baby had failed to ignite a glow of grandmotherly anticipation in his mother’s eyes; in fact the older woman had referred to the advent of her first grandchild as ‘the oldest trick in the book’.

On the other hand, neither of his parents had the slightest suspicion that their son might have been blackmailed into the marriage and Petros Volakis was only mildly concerned that the all-important TKR contract needed to keep the family business afloat had yet to be signed. Sander preferred his family to remain ignorant of Anatole’s threats because he saw no point in revealing that he’d made a sacrifice that—if acknowledged—would only make his parents resent the hell out of his wife … or in this case resent her more than they did already.

The combined accumulation of nerves and the hormonal commotion of early pregnancy made Tally feel a little dizzy on the church steps where cameras were clicking and film whirring with the bride and groom the photographic centre of attention. As she swayed Sander closed a steadying arm round her.

‘Are you feeling all right?’

‘Just a tiny bit dizzy,’ Tally admitted grudgingly, keen for her condition not to influence their special day in any negative way and glancing anxiously up at him as if she was ready to apologise for her uncharacteristic frailty.

Her bridegroom’s lean, devastatingly handsome features tightened, his stunning dark eyes cooling, his stubborn mouth compressing, and in that single assessing glance Tally experienced a darkly unwelcome moment of insight. Sander, she recognised in dismay, definitely didn’t want to be reminded that she was pregnant, or for anyone beyond the family circle to know. Maybe it was just impatience, she thought frantically, desperate to come up with a more acceptable explanation. He was young, fit and active, unaccustomed to bodily weakness. In addition, it was weeks since they had made love and he had a powerful libido. It was unlikely that he knew much about pregnancy and the hormonal and physical changes it imposed on a woman. Perhaps he was dreading the idea that his bride might turn into an ailing and untouchable pregnant mother-to-be.

‘You really will have to introduce me to your parents,’ she muttered ruefully as he swung into the limo beside her. ‘Do they know I’m pregnant?’

‘Of course.’

Tally tried not to feel self-conscious about the fact for, in a couple of months, people would only have to look at her to appreciate that there was a baby on the way. ‘It’s very awkward that I still haven’t met them.’

‘Between your exams and my schedule there wasn’t an opportunity.’ Sander watched the celebratory flock of doves take flight without wincing in disbelief and he was proud of himself for that tolerant restraint. ‘But we’ll both be much more accessible over the next few months. We’ll be living in Athens for a while at least.’

Since he had not mentioned that salient fact before, Tally tensed. ‘Are you taking over at Volakis Shipping?’

Sander nodded gravely. ‘Can’t avoid it any longer and I’m not sure I even want to any more. It is my family’s heritage. But if my brother, Titos, hadn’t died, the situation would never have arisen.’

Tally had noticed that he never mentioned his late brother. ‘What was Titos like?’

‘A very decent guy, clever, but he had no business brain. He and I could never have worked successfully together. He was the centre of my parents’ world though.’

‘They’ve still got you,’ she pointed out gently.

Sander loosed a rather edged laugh. ‘Titos fitted the bill, I never did. His death devastated them and my survival only reminds them of what they have lost.’

Tally frowned and hoped he was wrong on that score. The concept chilled her, much like the icy appraisal she had received from his parents as she walked down the aisle to marry their son. How could they not appreciate their strong and phenomenally successful younger son? Full of partisan sympathies on his behalf, she wanted to hug Sander and resisted the urge, knowing he would scorn her commiseration.

A few minutes later, the all-important introductions were performed in an ante-room at the hotel where the reception was being held. Petros Volakis and his tall elegant wife, Eirene, made no attempt to welcome Tally into the family circle. The frosty atmosphere could’ve been cut with the proverbial knife but Sander seemed impervious to it and fell into conversation with his father several feet away. Tally switched to Greek and said, ‘I speak some Greek,’ to Eirene Volakis.

‘I dare say your mother taught you everything she knows,’ Eirene pronounced with scorn in the same language, ‘starting with the most important lesson: how to catch a rich husband with a baby. While that ploy failed her, it hasn’t failed you.’

Shaken by that contemptuous response, which emphasised the unlovely fact that her in-laws knew all too many mortifying facts about her background, Tally reeled as if she had had her face slapped in public. She didn’t have a bitchy bone in her body and could think of nothing to say in return, other than a rather limp, ‘My mother never learned any Greek.’

As Tally moved hurriedly away Crystal grabbed her daughter’s arm and whispered, ‘You could freeze ice on that old trout’s face! What did she say to you?’

‘I think we can safely assume that I wasn’t on her wish list as a daughter-in-law.’

‘Don’t let it upset you,’ Crystal urged, although her own colour was high and it was evident she too was embarrassed by the chilly reception she had received.

Sander saw Tally’s white, drawn face as she moved away from his mother. She was twisting her hands together in an uneasy m

ovement that he had long since identified as indicative of Tally in distress mode and he immediately suspected the cause. The spasm of dark fury that ripped through him took him by surprise because he had strong reservations of his own when it came to his bride. His parents might be curling their lips in superiority at the over-the-top wedding in which bling rather than good taste ruled, but an affront to his wife was still an affront and unacceptable to Sander.

‘Mum got totally carried away,’ Tally told her bridegroom ruefully as she scanned the reception room, which was dominated by towering flower arrangements embellished with feathers, beading and reflective crystals, while twinkling lights winked on and off everywhere. It looked a little like a child’s version of fairy land. ‘I should’ve restrained her but she was enjoying it all so much I didn’t have the heart.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Sander pronounced valiantly, questioning his ability to appreciate her innate kindness and then balance that character trait with his belief that she had deliberately concealed her father’s identity before pulling it out like a big gun to get him to the altar. Was she in love with him? he wondered for the first time. Was that why she had fallen pregnant? He might have chosen not to use protection but only after she had assured him that it would be safe. If she had trapped him out of love, was he supposed to forgive her? He did not feel forgiving, he felt like a wild animal suddenly thrown into a cage. All of a sudden, the freedom he cherished had vanished. Marriage was supposed to make him faithful and monogamous even though, to date, he had never felt the desire to be either.

The reception wore on and there was little if any mingling between the guests on the bride’s side and the groom’s. Without unbending in the slightest, Sander’s parents left at the earliest possible moment. Tally relaxed a little and, drifting round the dance floor in Sander’s strong arms, even contrived to feel dreamily happy. He held her close to his lean powerful body and her blood stirred at his proximity and the aphrodisiac scent of his skin.