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“Rebekah.” In one fluid movement Jace came close and brushed his lips to her cheek.
“How dare you?” Rebekah’s words escaped as little more than a vehement whisper.
One dark eyebrow slanted, although his eyes held a watchful expression. “You expected formality?”
She didn’t trust herself to respond. He was in his mid-thirties, his broad chiseled facial bone structure giving hints of his Grecian ancestry, and there was an inherent quality in those dark gray, almost black eyes that took hold of her equilibrium and tore it to shreds.
No one man deserved to exude quite this degree of power…nor possess such riveting physical magnetism.
Dear Reader,
Flowers signify so many emotions…they’re the gift of lovers, friends and family, in times of happiness, joy and sorrow. From the exotic to simple everyday blossoms, their textures, colors and perfumes blend together to bring pleasure to people all around the world.
I have an admiration for those who work in the floral industry, especially the talented florists whose skilled artistry turns varied blooms into beautiful bouquets. My writer’s imagination envisaged the lives of two sisters, Ana and Rebekah, who co-own a florist boutique in one of the trendiest suburbs of Sydney, Australia.
Ana is married to proud, powerful Luc Dimitriades—but one year into their marriage, his newly divorced ex-mistress returns, determined to reclaim Luc….
Rebekah is wary of men and determined to avoid falling in love again. But Luc’s cousin Jace Dimitriades plans to change her mind!
I hope you enjoy getting to know these two sisters, and the gorgeous tycoons who turn their world upside down!
With love
The Greek Bridegroom
Helen Bianchin
MILLS & BOON
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Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
THERE were some days when it just didn’t pay to get out of bed, Rebekah groaned as she lifted her head from the pillow and caught sight of the digital clock.
It was blinking, indicating a power failure through the night had disrupted the alarm mechanism.
She fumbled for her watch, checked the time and uttered a muffled oath as she slid from the bed, then cursed out loud as she stubbed her toe on her way to the en suite.
The icy blast of water ensured the quickest shower on record, and, dressed, she raced into the kitchen, dished out fresh food for the cat, snatched a container of orange juice from the refrigerator, gulped a mouthful, then she collected her bag and took the lift down to the underground car park.
Seconds later she slid in behind the wheel of the Blooms and Bouquets van, inserted the key into the ignition…and nothing.
Don’t do this to me, she begged as the engine refused to kick over. Please don’t do this to me! During the ensuing minutes she coaxed, cajoled, promised, and still it remained as dead as a doornail.
She restrained the urge to scream in frustration. Talk about having Friday the thirteenth on a Tuesday!
Raising her head heavenward and praying to the deity didn’t work either.
What else could go wrong?
It was better she didn’t ask, for it might tempt fate to fling another disaster in her path.
There was nothing else to do but get behind the wheel of her MG and send the sleek red sports car purring through Sydney’s suburban streets.
Not exactly a suitable vehicle in which to transport flowers to the Double Bay florist shop she co-owned with her sister, Ana.
In the early pre-dawn hours there wasn’t much traffic, and already the city was stirring to life. Pie-carts were closing up after the long night, the council street-sweeping trucks whined along, clearing debris from the gutters, and fruit and vegetable vendors transported their supplies from the city markets. Taxis carrying businessmen to catch the early flights interstate, petrol tankers beginning deliveries.
It was a time of day Rebekah enjoyed, and she activated a popular radio station on the console and felt her spirits lift with the upbeat music.
Soon the sun would lift above the horizon, and the grey shadows would disperse, bestowing everything with light and colour.
A sweeping glance was all it took at the markets to determine the best of the blooms were gone, and she figured her order, placed it, then turned the car towards Double Bay.
The shop was situated in a trendy élite area, and thanks to a bequest from her late mother the business was free from any loan encumbrances.
It was six-thirty when she unlocked the outer door and she tripped the lights, filled the coffee percolator, then set to work.
While the percolator took its time, she booted up the computer and downloaded email orders, then she
