The Demetrios Virgin

‘There is no need to introduce her to me, ’Reas.’ He laughed. ‘Your beautiful fiancée and I have already met.’

Saskia could see how much he was enjoying the shocking effect of his announcement on his family. He was obviously a man who liked to feel he was in control of things...people...who liked to challenge and surprise them. But where that trait in Andreas had angered her, in his grandfather she found it almost endearing.

‘You and Saskia have already met?’ Andreas was repeating, frowning heavily as he looked from his grandfather to Saskia.

‘Yes. In Athens,’ his grandfather confirmed before Saskia could say anything. ‘She was very kind to an old man, and very concerned for him too. My driver told me that you had expressed your concern for my health to him,’ he told Saskia in a broadly smiling aside. ‘And I have to confess I did find that walk in the heat plus the wait I had for you to return from the Acropolis a trifle...uncomfortable. But not, I suspect, as uncomfortable as Andreas was, arriving at my office to discover that I had cancelled our meeting,’ he added with a chuckle.

‘You didn’t really think I’d allow my only grandson to marry a woman I knew nothing about, did you?’ he asked Andreas with a little swagger that made her hide a small smile. He was so very Greek, so very macho. She knew she should be annoyed, but he was so pleased with himself that she didn’t have the heart to be cross.

Andreas, though, as it soon became obvious, was not so easily appeased.

‘You decided to check up on Saskia—?’ he thundered, giving his grandfather a hard look.

‘You have definitely made a good choice, Andreas,’ his grandfather interrupted him. ‘She is charming...and kind. Not many young women would have taken the time to look after an old man who was a stranger to them. I had to meet her for myself, Andreas. I know you, and—’

‘What you have done is an insult to her,’ Andreas cut him off coldly, whilst Saskia stared at him in astonishment. Andreas defending and protecting her? What was this? And then, abruptly, she remembered that he was simply acting out a role...the role of a loving protective fiancé.

‘And let me tell you this, Grandfather,’ Andreas was continuing. ‘Whether you approve of Saskia or not makes no difference to me. I love her, and I always will, and there are no threats, no bribes, no blandishments you can offer that could in any way change that.’

There was a brief pause before the older man nodded his head.

‘Good,’ he announced. ‘I’m glad to hear it. A woman like Saskia deserves to be the focus of her husband’s heart and life. She reminds me very much of my Elisabeth,’ he added, his eyes suddenly misty. ‘She had that same kindness, that same concern for others.’ Suddenly he started to frown as he caught sight of Saskia’s ring.

‘What is that she is wearing?’ he demanded. ‘It is not fit for a Demetrios bride. I’m surprised at you, Andreas...a paltry plain solitaire. She shall have my Elisabeth’s ring, and—’

‘No.’ The harshness in Andreas’s voice made Saskia tense. Was he going to tell his grandfather that it was all a lie? Was the thought of Saskia wearing something as sacred to their family as his dead grandmother’s ring too much for him to endure?

‘No,’ he continued. ‘If Saskia wants a different ring then she shall choose one herself. For now I want her to wear the one I chose for her. A diamond as pure and shiningly beautiful as she is herself.’

Saskia could see Andreas’s mother’s and sister’s jaws dropping, as was her own at such an unexpectedly tender and almost poetic declaration.

Ridiculously tears blurred her eyes as she looked down at the solitaire. It was beautiful. She thought so every time she put it on. But for her to treasure such a ring it would have to be given with love. It was the commitment it was given with that made it of such value to a woman in love, not its financial worth.

But Andreas’s grandfather was brushing aside such irrelevancies, and demanding jovially, ‘Very well, but what I want to know now is when you plan to get married. I can’t live for ever, Andreas, and if I am to see your sons...’