The Giannakis Bride by Catherine Spencer Page B

I suppose.”
    The next morning, though, she scooped up the last hot breakfast scone and deposited it on Brianna’s plate before Dimitrios could reach for it.
    “I do believe you’re winning her over,” he remarked, sotto voce, as the housekeeper went to refill their coffee cups.
    From the other side of the breakfast room, Erika said sharply, “I heard that!”
    But there was no real sting in her tone. In fact, when she turned back to the table, the hint of a smile played over her mouth.
    Moved by the small gesture of acceptance, Brianna realized that this was what real families were all about—affectionate teasing and loyalty and devotion and the willingness to give one another a chance. Why hadn’t Cecily recognized the gift she’d been given, and grabbed hold of it with both hands?
    Brianna knew why. Because her poor sister had never learned how to love unselfishly. She and Brianna had only ever known the fickle approval of a parent perennially dissatisfied with her lot in life. To their mother, they’d always been either a burden or the means to an end; something she could exploit to her own advantage. If the desired results didn’t bring her the rewards she felt she deserved, her children paid the price. And Cecily had continued along the same path with Poppy, showering her with attention when it suited and ignoring her when it didn’t.
    Well, no more, Brianna decided, as she lay in bed that night. The destructive pattern of behavior ended here.
    “I’ve made my decision, Dimitrios ,” she announced, the next morning. “About us. And if your offer to make me a permanent part of your life still stands, I’d very much like to see if we can make it work.”

Chapter 7
    He regarded her solemnly. “So soon? Are you sure?”
    “Yes, I’m sure.”
    “You’ve really thought it through?”
    “I’ve really thought it through,” she confirmed, somewhat disconcerted by his measured response. She’d expected a little more enthusiasm. Unbridled ecstasy, even. After all, picking up where they’d left off four years earlier had been his suggestion, not hers.
    “In case I haven’t made it clear,” he said, holding her in his serous gaze, “I’m not looking for an affair. I want you as my wife.”
    As proposals went, this one left something to be desired, enough that she looked at him blankly, wondering if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Your what?”
    “My wife, Brianna. As in Kyria Dimitrios Giannakis .”
    No mistaking it, this time. He couldn’t have made himself any clearer if he’d had it emblazoned in gold on his forehead.
    Elation fizzed through her veins, heady as champagne. Dimitrios , her husband? She’d buried that particular dream a long time ago, yet here it was, resurrected from the ashes. A modern-day miracle.
    If something sounds too good to be true, Carter’s voice whispered in her head, just as it had often enough in the past, take care, because it probably is. Look for the hidden agenda, Brianna. Don’t be so ready to take everything at face value.
    But she turned a deaf ear. He’d been referring to business; to the dog-eat-dog world of international modeling. This was different. This was about matters of the heart. About love and commitment. What for so long had seemed a hopeless fantasy had suddenly turned into a reality, and she wanted to jump up and dance with sheer happiness. She wanted Dimitrios to catch her in his arms and swing her off her feet and smother her in kisses.
    Instead he remained seated, spelling out his terms with the uncompromising exactitude he no doubt brought to his corporate acquisitions.
    Except…she wasn’t a corporate acquisition. Was she?
    Her skin prickled as if a cold wind had drafted up her spine. Reining in her initial uprush of delight, she said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dimitrios . I’m really not interested in being your live-in mistress.”
    “You’ll be taking on a husband with a ready-made family, not to mention a new