Bride by Day

by Rebecca Winters

  Sam stared at him, wondering what he was getting at.

  In that low, vibrant voice he added, “Her senior art project took first prize at the university a week ago, and is now hanging in the foyer of my office building in New York. A bronze plaque given by the department stating her name, year and award has been mounted below the frame. There’s also a ten thousand dollar check on its way to her.”

  Her father’s cry of delight filled the room, but Perseus’s unexpected news had sent her into shock, robbing her of the happiness she’d been feeling.

  The mention of money reminded her that he’d given an enormous sum to the art department as part of their bargain. Did her professor have any choice but to award the prize to her?

  Perseus watched the blood drain from her face.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” He read her mind with incredible ease. “It’s true I’ve established that fund for deserving artists. All the papers were prepared before we left New York. But I instructed my attorney to hold off contacting the department for an initial conference until the winners of the project were announced first.”

  It was a good thing she was sitting down. To be plunged from the depths to the heights in the space of a few seconds had practically immobilized her.

  “Perhaps more than you,” he muttered soberly, “I wanted you to win that prize on the strength of your superb talent. Nothing else.”

  “Perseus—” she squealed for joy, the sudden rush of adrenaline bringing her to her feet. “You’re really not making this up? I won first place?”

  “How could you doubt it?”

  His mouth curved in one of those miraculous smiles that melted her bones. She felt as if they were the only two people on earth.

  “Before you and I left for Greece, I gave your friend, Lois, my office phone number in Athens. I asked her to let me know the results the minute Professor Giddings had made his decision.”

  “You’re kidding!” Sam couldn’t take it in. “Lois informed you?”

  “That’s right. She said to tell you that you still owe her a tablecloth. She thinks it’s going to be worth a fortune someday because it’s a Samantha Telford original. I happen to agree with her,” he supplied smoothly.

  “Since I’m the reason why you made her such a rash promise in the first place, I hope you don’t mind if I told her you’d make her a gift of it as soon as you were set up in your own business, and had no more use for it as a prototype.”

  His face grew pensive. “I also hope you aren’t too upset that I didn’t tell you right away. The simple fact is, I felt a little like Santa Claus and wished it were Christmas so I could put your present under the tree. Barring that, I wanted to choose the right moment.”

  After a pause, “I’m quite certain that being united with your father is probably the supreme moment of your life, isn’t that so, Kyria?”

  “Perseus—” her father interjected emotionally, raising his arm to hug his daughter.

  Sam knew exactly how her parent felt, but was incapable of speech.

  “Two geniuses in one family meeting for the first time warrants a celebration. What could be more timely than the announcement of your prize? A coveted honor from the most celebrated art department in the U.S.” Fearing he’d see the love light in her eyes, she hid her face in her father’s shoulder.

  I love you, Perseus, and it’s killing me...

  “I’ll inform Maria we’re ready for dinner. Come out to the patio when you’re ready.”

  Sam was thankful Perseus left the salon when he did. Otherwise he would have seen her break down in her father’s arms.

  “We may have not known each other very long, honey, but I have a feeling these tears aren’t all for joy.”

  Her father saw too much.

  “It’s obvious that Perseus Kostopoulos is the great love of your life. It’s equally apparent that he feels the same way about you. So what is it that is breaking your heart? I may have missed out on your first twenty-four years, but I’m here now, and plan to be for the duration. Let me shoulder some of the burden. I’m a good listener.”

  All the parental love and sincerity she could wish for was there in his voice, crumbling the barriers she’d erected over a lifetime.

  She found herself blurting the entire story about her and Perseus. “...So you see. It’s all an act on his part.”

  “No,” her father refuted with surprising intensity. “Only love motivates a man to do what he did for you tonight.”

  She shook her head sadly and moved out of his arms. “Perseus is the greatest actor alive.”

  “You mean like your own mother?”

  Sam glanced at him with haunted eyes. She’d been waiting for an opening to find out why her parents had gone their own way.

  “What happened?”

  He smoothed a strand of hair from her forehead. “Your mother and I fell headlong in love one summer while I was in Cheyenne working on a series of Indian paintings. Those were the early days of my career. I was a poor, struggling artist from the west coast who lived where my painting took me.

  “In those days I wasn’t marriage material. My finances were nonexistent. I lived hand to mouth. But none of it mattered because my painting was everything.

  “At least that’s what I told myself until I met your mother. By the end of the summer, I was prepared to get a job in Cheyenne so I could marry her. I’m not saying I would have given up my painting. But I wanted her enough that I was willing to settle down and find a way to do my painting on the side.” After a brief silence, “She turned me down, honey.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered.

  “She told me that she’d had a great time with me, but she wasn’t in love with me.” He shook his head. “I knew she was lying, so I proposed over and over again. But I couldn’t break her down.”

  “Mother had no self-confidence,” Sam admitted sadly.

  “You’re right. With hindsight I could see that she was afraid of holding me back from my destiny. She always did believe in my ability to paint. But at the time I was in too much pain from her rejection to stay in Cheyenne, so I left for Flathead country in Montana. That was my mistake. I wrote her every day. She never answered one of my letters. I tried phoning her, but she wouldn’t talk to me.

  “Eventually I went to New York and was lucky enough to sell some of my work. I wrote her again, telling her I’d received my first major commission, that I had enough money for us to get married. I sent her a plane ticket, and prayed for a response. Nothing.”

  Sam knew how stubborn her mother could be.

  “I think at that point I gave up and left for Europe. I reached my lowest ebb here on Serifos where I was doing a series of paintings on the Greek myths. Then fate in the form of your husband stepped in. He hounded me in his inimitable way to sell him that painting of your mother.

  “I decided it was time to let her go. From that point on, I never looked back.” His eyes blazed with a strange light. “But if I’d had any idea she was carrying my child, I would have returned to Cheyenne and forced her to marry me.”

  Sam bowed her head. “I believe you. The problem is, she never spoke about the past, but I know now she must have regretted that decision terribly because she was sick most of her life, and died far too young.”

  “She never married?”

  “No. I doubt she ever looked at another man.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “The scars run deep. I’m afraid I never considered marriage again, either.”

  Taking her courage in her hands she asked, “How long have you been with Anna?”

  “Eleven years.”

  A smile curved her lips. “I’ve heard of men having piremarital jitters, but eleven years? Don’t you think it’s time you popped the question?”

  He looked taken back, then he chuckled and gave her another hug.

  “I think you have a point.”

  “Dad—” Her voice trembled as she tried the endearment out for the first time. “Do
n’t let the tragedy of the past consume you any more. Maybe it would help you to know that mother did try to make amends for what she’d done.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Because she did something totally out of character for her. She moved us to New York to give me access to the artist’s world because she knew I’d inherited a tiny part of your talent. We cleaned office buildings together to earn money.”

  Her father’s stunned expression touched her heart. “Now that you’ve told me everything, I wonder if she wasn’t hoping to bump into you again, which would have been a big step for her. Right before she died, she finally told me your name, that I should always reverence it.”

  Sam knew he was having difficulty. “Thank you for that, honey,” he finally murmured, then looked her straight in the eye. “So now we’re back to square one.”

  For some odd reason, her heart started to act up. “I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do. Don’t let history repeat itself. Fight for Perseus.”

  She averted her eyes. “I’ve already told you the whole story. You can’t compare your situation with mother, to mine.”

  “Something tells me this has very little to do with Sofia, and much more to do with you. Do you really think that phone number was so important, he’d force you into that kind of a bargain if he didn’t want something else much more important out of it in return?”

  “More important than Sofia?” she gasped.

  “Honey—” He was smiling now. “He was in love with my painting. When you appeared in his office, he probably thought he was hallucinating. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

  “But he’s planning to marry her in a year.” She practically moaned the words.

  “Is he?”

  A tremor passed through her body.

  “They haven’t been together for twenty years. Love has to be fed. Has Perseus ever come right out and told you he’s going to marry her?”

  Sam searched her memory, but it was all a confused jumble. “I—I’m sure he has.” Her voice throbbed.

  “You don’t sound very sure to me. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You mean like your mother couldn’t reach out to me when she finally realized she wanted me after all? Don’t wait that long for answers, honey. Life’s too short.”

  A terrible fear coupled with a burgeoning excitement took hold of Sam.

  Did she dare take her father’s advice?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE clock said ten after two in the morning. Sam’s father had left the villa a little over a half hour ago with the promise that he and Anna would fly to New York within the next couple of weeks so Sam could meet the woman who now held his heart.

  Perseus had gone to bed much earlier in the evening, but had been the urbane host at dinner. With his innate sophistication and charm, he’d solicited information from her father about his latest successes and future plans. Sam interjected a comment here and there, but mostly she listened.

  It was a great joy to watch the two men she loved most in the world sharing their thoughts about art, about life, sensing their mutual rapport. She soaked it all in, occasionally darting a covert glance at Perseus, the embodiment of a Greek god. Unfortunately the evening ended when her father announced he must be going.

  As Sam lay there in the bed wide-awake, she wondered if Perseus was having as much trouble getting to sleep. But more than that, she wondered if she had the temerity to unmask him.

  Her mind went over and over the conversation with her father. She didn’t think she was like her mother, but maybe she was after all. It took a tremendous amount of confidence to confront the man you loved, and dare to reach out for your happiness.

  Perseus and her father had traveled down similar paths, scarred inside and out by the women they’d loved. Yet Anna, who Sam learned was a landscape artist, sounded like she knew exactly what she wanted, and was willing to do anything to be a part of his life for as long as he wanted her in it. Eleven years... In the face of such odds, where did she get her courage to fight for a man as complicated as Jules Gregory?

  Sam turned on her side, restless, her heart aching. After tonight she knew she couldn’t wait eleven days, let alone eleven months for answers. It would be better to know the truth now, and face the hell she was sure of, than wait for the hell yet to come a year from now.

  With her heart practically catapulting out of her chest, she swung her feet to the floor and reached for her robe. Moving in bare feet across the tiles to the connecting door, she raised her hand to knock, then couldn’t go through with it. If he was asleep, she hated disturbing him.

  That’s an excuse, Sam.

  Taking another fortifying breath, she lifted her hand again and tapped with her knuckles. No sooner had she knocked, than the door opened.

  “Perseus!” she cried in astonishment because he’d answered so fast. Looking beyond his shoulder she could see that his bed still hadn’t been turned down. Maybe he’d been out in the surf and had just come in. He stood inches away from her, wearing his brown robe which he must have hastily thrown on because he was still fastening the belt. She took a step backward.

  “I’ve been expecting you.” His somber mood troubled her in ways she couldn’t even define.

  “Why?” she asked softly, sensing that something was wrong. In the near darkness her eyes searched his, but she couldn’t see into them. An uneasy silence prevailed.

  “I assumed you might need to talk. It isn’t every day that a daughter who has just been united with her long-lost father, must say goodbye to him again so soon.”

  Perseus always put her needs before his own. “Y-you’re right. It was hard to watch him walk out the door.”

  But nothing will match the pain when I watch you walk away from me for the last time, my darling.

  She felt rather than saw his body stiffen. “I presume he asked you to go back to Sicily with him, and now you want my permission.”

  Surprised by the unexpected assumption, she was caught off guard. “Actuall—”

  “I can’t say I blame him.” Perseus cut her off abruptly. There was an intensity about him she’d never felt before. “I know that if you were the daughter I’d just found, I would demand that you come home with me.”

  “I—I think that’s your Greek blood talking,” she quipped nervously to bring a little levity into the conversation. “My father recognizes I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  Her attempt at humor didn’t phase him or change his forbidding countenance.

  “As long as we go together, I don’t see that as a problem.”

  She was incredulous. “But there’d be no reason for you to come.”

  He stood like an impregnable fortress, his hands in the pockets of his robe. “As far as the world is concerned, we’re still on our honeymoon. The press might not be kind to either of us if you left me to go to your father.

  “They might see Sofia’s departure for Turkey too great a coincidence, and follow me in the hopes of catching us in a compromising position. However, if you and I left on a trip together, no one would think anything about it.”

  Her heart was racing far too fast. What did this mean? Was her father right? Was this idea of traveling together to Sicily prompted by Perseus’s need to be with her, because he couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight? If that were true...

  On the other hand, she groaned inwardly, he could still be playing out his part to the bitter end, so there’d be no scandal to hurt his future with Sofia.

  She’d knocked on his door to find out those answers. But she didn’t know if she had the courage to follow through. If he told her he was more in love with Sofia than ever, and intended on making her his wife, Sam didn’t know how she would stand it.

  Clearing her throat she said, “I’m afraid this discussion isn’t relevant, Perseus. You see, before my father could ask me anything, I begged him to come to New York.”

  Even the darkness coul
dn’t disguise the jerk of his head, or the frown marring his unforgettable features. She’d said something else wrong because there was another tension-filled pause.

  “If you’re asking if he can live with us, I see no problem. Not if it is what you want.”

  “That’s incredibly generous of you, Perseus, but I think Anna might have something to say about it. If I’m not mistaken, he’s on his way back to Sicily right now to propose marriage to her. I’m hoping that when they come to New York in two weeks for a visit, we’ll be able to give them an engagement party.”

  In the next instant his hands shot out and gripped her upper arms firmly. “Stop it, Kyria. Pretend with anyone else, but not with me.”

  His hands on her body made her lose her concentration. She couldn’t think this close to him. “I’m not pretending anything.”

  He gave her a gentle shake. “Can you honestly stand here and tell me you’re not devastated that he has gone away again, when I know what finding him has meant to you?

  “Don’t forget we were in my room two nights ago when pain stored up over a lifetime came gushing out of you. No one recovers that fast.”

  “You don’t understand, Perseus. Two days ago I was a different person. Two days ago I thought my father knew about me, and had turned his back on me. Today’s revelations have changed everything.

  “I know he loves me. We’re planning on staying close for the rest of our lives. But I’m no longer a child who needs her daddy to tuck her into bed, and read her a story. I have a husband who takes care of me now.” She said the last in a trembling voice. It might as well have been a confession of love.

  In response, his hands began kneading her shoulders unconsciously. She could feel the tremendous effort he was making to stay in control.

  “You’ve surpassed your performance of the other night. Anyone hearing you would think you were a deliriously happy bride, content to remain with her husband all the rest of her days.”

  His fingers bit into her arms but she welcomed, craved, the contact. Anything that brought her closer to him.

  “You think I don’t know the truth?” he bit out in self-deprecation. “You’d sell your soul to be with your father right now.”