Wedding Party Collection: Here Comes The Groom: The Bridegroom's Vow / The Billionaire Bridegroom. Rebecca Winters

It was better to say nothing until she could leave the villa.

      She hung up with the promise that she’d phone them sometime tomorrow. She hoped by then she’d be at the hotel.

      With the calls out of the way, she left the guest room and went down the hall to his suite. She knocked, wondering if he was inside.

      “The door’s open.”

      Hearing his deep voice made her heart leap. She pushed on it and entered.

      He was sitting on top of his bed with his back against the headboard, listening to the news coming from the television. Her gaze traveled from his sandaled feet to the white sailor pants and royal blue knit shirt. The kind with the short sleeves and ribbing that looked good only on a man with some muscle.

      She swallowed hard because Dimitrios’s arms were darkly tanned and as powerful looking as his legs. If she could paint him like this she’d entitle it, Zeus Reflecting.

      Embarrassed to be caught staring, she reached for her glasses, which were still sitting on the coffee table.

      He’d improved a great deal since morning. His color had returned. She was pleased to see that the bruised look beneath his eyes had almost disappeared. It made her wonder at her temerity in touching him as she’d done last night.

      With a flick of the remote, he turned off the television and studied her. “You look rested, Ms. Hamilton. Come all the way in. Dinner will be here before long. In the meantime, we have work to do.”

      She reached for her briefcase and walked over to the coffee table. “You must be feeling better.”

      “I’m getting there. You said you’d made a copy for me of the countdown of events.”

      “Yes. But should you use your eyes yet? Reading might be bad for your headache.”

      “I’ve read the morning and evening papers from cover to cover and feel none the worse for it.”

      He sounded out of sorts. Some people didn’t have as hard a time as others staying down while they were convalescing. Dimitrios was one of those others. Her boss was about as happy as a restless panther trapped inside a cage, going around and around the bars looking for a way to escape.

      She dove into her briefcase and found the wanted item. “Here you are.” After putting it on the bed next to him, she pulled out her laptop.

      Once she’d set the computer on her thighs and turned it on, she brought up the file in question. “If you want to start, I’m ready to make any changes.”

      “Bring your chair closer so we don’t have to shout at each other.”

      Alex wasn’t aware they’d been shouting. In fact he’d just spoken to her in a low voice, and she’d been able to hear him perfectly. But she did as he suggested.

      Lifting her head in anticipation of what he would ask to be added or deleted, her attention was caught by the sight of a gold scepter lying across the quilt next to the footboard of the bed. She hadn’t noticed it when she’d entered his bedroom.

      Her questioning gaze darted to her boss. He, in turn, eyed her with a complacent expression that didn’t fool her.

      “I found I wanted to see it,” he confessed, “so I sent Leon to the hotel this morning. Michael met him in the lobby with it.”

      Uh, oh.

      Had Dimitrios learned there were two actors staying there, as well? Not that he would have cared. It was just that she hadn’t mentioned the others, and she didn’t want any unnecessary talk to go on.

      “Your doctor wasn’t kidding when he said you made a terrible patient. If I’d known you were going to be so bored today, I would have asked Stavros to come over and keep you company.”

      Still worked, up she added, “Something tells me you were the kind of little boy who sneaked a look at your Christmas presents long before it was time to open them.”

      “Guilty on all counts.”

      Alex took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. “What do you think of it?”

      “I haven’t seen it yet. Leon hung the garment bag in my closet. I thought I’d wait until you unveiled it before my eyes.”

      “Considering you went to such lengths to get it, I’m puzzled you would show that much forbearance.”

      “Some surprises are worth savoring.”

      She was stunned that he would have bothered with any of it.

      “To be honest, I haven’t seen it myself. I gave the seamstress a sketch months ago. It wasn’t ready until the last second, so Michael picked it up for me.”

      “Why don’t we have a sneak preview before dinner.”

      “I thought you wanted to work.”

      “Indirectly, I would say a costume to promote publicity for the fair falls under that particular umbrella.”

      Her hands tightened on her laptop before she got up and put it on the coffee table.

      Certain things in life were private. If she were his fiancée or his wife, she couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than having the right to be in his bedroom, rummaging around in his walk-in closet, handling his clothes.

      This was the danger her mother had talked about. To share all this with him—except the most important thing.

      “What color is the bag?” she called to him.

      “Dark blue.”

      He had a good size wardrobe, and she saw several bags matching that description. Before looking inside each one, she decided to open the floor-length cupboard. Maybe Leon had hung it in there so it would be easier to find again.

      What she discovered caused her to forget why she was in there. Both sections contained boxes full of trophies, plaques and cups lying in haphazard fashion, some large, some small. Dozens of them.

      One thing was clear from some of the trophies depicting a man in climbing gear with a pickax. He was an expert mountaineer.

      Most of the engravings were in foreign languages, including Greek, but a few were in English. He’d climbed all over the world. There were dates going back fifteen years, yet there was one as recent as this year.

      She remembered a trip he’d taken in June. He said he’d be out of the office a week and she wouldn’t be able to reach him unless he phoned her. If there was a problem, she should consult Stavros.

      He’d returned with a deep tan. Alex had assumed he’d gone sailing on the Aegean or some such thing. She had no idea the mountains were his great love.

      “You haven’t lost your way in there, have you, Ms. Hamilton?”

      She shut the cupboard abruptly. “I’ll be right out.”

      Without wasting any more time, she felt the bags until she found one that she could tell didn’t contain a man’s suit jacket.

      Emerging from the closet, she walked over to her chair and unzipped it. A soft gasp escaped her throat when she held it up and saw what a fabulous job the seamstress had done.

      Faithful to the colored sketch Alex had made from the well-known Greek icon depicting Saint Dimitrios on his horse, the short-sleeved, hip-length vest was authentic in every detail.

      She found a pair of dark gold braided boot covers in the bottom of the bag. They were meant to hide his shoes and hug the trousers to his legs at a point above the calves.

      Along with the boots, Cossack-style rust trousers and a great flowing ruby cape completed the outfit.

      “Bring everything closer.”

      She did his bidding. “You have to visualize yourself on horseback wearing all this and carrying your scepter, of course.” He would look magnificent.