Today was his wedding day.
His wife. Holly was going to be his wife...
Since their arrival from Greece, their wedding plans had been rushed through in only two days. Stavros wished to marry her as quickly as possible, before she had the chance for second thoughts.
Also, he had a major upcoming business deal, the acquisition of a local technology business-management firm for nearly two billion dollars, which he knew would keep him busy the last weeks before Christmas.
And as in all acquisitions, Stavros had learned from experience that speed was key. Once a man knew what he wanted, there was nothing to be gained from waiting. Better to strike fast, and possess what he wanted, before anyone else could take it. That was true in business—and marriage.
Holly had agreed to be married as soon as they could get the license. Her only request was that they invite her sister to the wedding. Apparently when she’d phoned Nicole with the news, her little sister had begged to bring Oliver to the ceremony, too. Stavros was none too pleased. He cynically expected his cousin, who’d been unemployed for months, to ask him for money. But having her sister there seemed important to Holly’s happiness, and her happiness was important to his.
When Holly had said she’d marry him, Stavros thought he would explode with joy.
No, not joy, he told himself. Triumph. He’d achieved his objective. His son was secure. Or he would be, as soon as they were married today. They’d be a family. And Holly would be in his bed.
Stavros pictured how she’d looked in the moonlight, so unabashedly emotional. She didn’t seem to realize how foolish it could be, to show feelings, to even have them at all: it left you vulnerable. He felt uncomfortable remembering everything he’d shared with her in Greece. He’d never been that open with anyone.
He’d only done it to achieve his objective, he reassured himself. There was no danger of him giving his heart to Holly, no matter how tempted any other man would be. Stavros’s heart had been charred to ash long ago.
He’d meant it when he’d told her she’d never regret marrying him. But he’d have to walk a careful line. He wanted to make her happy, but not so happy she fell in love with him. He couldn’t be that cruel, when he’d never be able to return her love. And he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. Dread went through Stavros at the thought.
He remembered how she’d spoken so dreamily about how her parents had loved each other.
My father always said loving my mother changed his life. She made him a husband. A father. More than he ever imagined he could be. He always said she changed his stars.
Holly knew that love wasn’t something that Stavros—or any Minos man—was capable of, he told himself firmly. She’d still chosen to marry him. Therefore, she’d accepted him as he was.
He might not be able to experience love, or give it, but damn it, he’d be faithful to her. He’d be a solid husband and father. He’d always provide for her and the baby.
He’d made sure of that in their prenuptial agreement, much to the dismay of his lawyers. His terms had been far more generous than needed. But he wanted Holly to know she’d never be left penniless by a divorce, as his own mother had.
If he couldn’t love Holly, he’d make damn sure she was always cared for.
Stavros could hardly wait to make her his wife and make love to her. It was all he’d been able to think of on the flight from Greece. He would have taken Holly back to the jet’s bedroom while the baby slept, if it hadn’t been for the presence of Eleni. Nothing like a sharp-eyed, grandmotherly former nanny aboard to keep one’s basest desires in check.
A judge would be arriving later today to marry them at his penthouse, which was already decorated with candles, flowers and Christmas holly and ivy. The rings had been bought, the wedding dress and tuxedo secured and the food arranged by the wedding planner.
Somewhat to his shock, Holly had let the planner sort out everything.
“You don’t even want to pick out your dress?” Stavros had grinned. “You are the most easygoing bride in the world.”
She’d shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter.”
He’d sobered. “Are you sure? If a big wedding is important to you, Holly, we can be married in a cathedral and invite the whole damn city.”
She shook her head. “I had my dream wedding last year, for Nicole. And I’m not sure it made any difference for them.” She lifted her gaze to his and said, “Our marriage is what I care about, not the ceremony.”
Cradling her head in his hands, he gently kissed her. “But you deserve a party...”
She’d looked at him for a long moment. “I’d rather have this day just be about us. But if you really want to throw me a party, you know what I’d really like? A birthday party on the twenty-third of December, with all my friends.”
“The twenty-third?” He was ambushed by the memory of that date last year, when he’d gotten his fatal diagnosis.
She’d smiled. “It’s why my parents named me Holly, because my birthday’s so close to Christmas.” She tilted her head. “For just one time, I’d love to have a real birthday party, without Christmas taking over...”
Then she happily told him a story he barely heard, something about everyone always wrapping her birthday gifts in Christmas paper, or giving her a single gift for a combined Christmas/birthday present, or forgetting her birthday entirely. But he was distracted by memories of the shock and weakness and vulnerability he’d felt last year. He never wanted to feel like that again.
Especially now. As a father, soon to be a husband, he couldn’t afford to ever feel weak or vulnerable again. He wasn’t afraid of the cancer returning. His recent checkup had placed him in full remission. But emotionally, he’d have to be strong to make sure he never totally let down his walls. He didn’t want to hurt Holly. Or be hurt himself...