The Bridegroom's Vow. Rebecca Winters

no idea how he’d feel.”

      “Yes, you do. You’ve just told me he’s an honorable man when it comes to business. Men like that expect honor in return. Mark my words, Alexandra. Every minute you’re in his employ, you’re playing with fire.”

      “Don’t you think I know that?” she blurted in agony. “I—I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. Between you and Michael, I’m convinced that the only thing to do is resign.”

      “If you really mean that, then go to Greece. Do your job. Don’t go near his family, then come straight home on the first available commercial flight and hand in your resignation. He’ll have three weeks to find another secretary within the company to replace you.”

      “You’re right,” she whispered brokenly. “My assistant Charlene would give anything to have my job. As soon as I get back, I’ll look for something around here.”

      “Promise?”

      “Yes.” She gave her mother another hug. “Kiss Daddy for me. I have to run.”

      “Call me as often as you can.”

      “Okay. I love you, Mom. Thanks for the advice.”

      “It’s more than advice, darling. It’s a warning.”

      Tears swamped Alex’s cheeks as she left the house and drove off with those words ringing in her ears. All the way to New York she relived the conversation with her mother. The fissure had cracked open wide, wide, wide.

      What a fool Alex had been. Four years had come and gone. She was still forgettable to Dimitrios.

      But if he never gave her another thought after she left his employ, she was determined he’d remember the fruit of her labors.

      For the last eight months she’d given the international textile fair her all. She hoped it would make Greece the forerunner in establishing business relations on a global scale.

      Before Mrs. Landau had passed away, she’d told Alex that Dimitrios had been asked to host the trade fair at the behest of the Greek government. They needed a name guaranteed to bring success.

      It was a project dear to Alex’s heart in more ways than one. She immediately went to work on it and received glowing praise from Mrs. Landau. But before the older woman could present the complete project to Dimitrios for his approval, she suffered a fatal heart attack at her home.

      Her death affected everyone in the company, especially Dimitrios, who’d considered her his right hand away from Greece. Suddenly he was trying to do Mrs. Landau’s work plus his own.

      When he’d asked Alex to take over as best she could, she’d sensed he felt she was a lightweight who couldn’t handle the enormous trade fair project along with her normal duties.

      Fearing she’d miss the one big opportunity to make her mark, Alex rushed to assure him that she’d already worked out most of the details with Mrs. Landau. Whenever he gave the word, she would start implementing the plans.

      She remembered that evening so clearly. Her mind’s eye could see the way he lounged back in his swivel chair and unfastened his tie. Fatigue lines had darkened his attractive face whose shadowed jaw gave evidence that he’d been going too hard, traveling too much without proper rest.

      He stared at her with incurious eyes, causing her heart to plummet. Although he hadn’t told her no, she realized he had little faith in her abilities to take on something of such vital importance.

      “Have you ever been to Greece, Ms. Hamilton?”

      “No, but I have a history degree.”

      In the uneasy silence that followed her response, she watched him rub his forehead as if he had a headache. No doubt he did and was barely holding on to his patience.

      “Do you have something written up you can show me now, or do you need more time?”

      She took a deep breath. “I’ll get the portfolio out of my office and be right back.”

      Upon her return she asked if she could spread the materials out on his desk. He nodded.

      The second she positioned the first twenty-by-twenty-four inch drawing in front of him, the complacency left his face. As he sat forward, his well-shaped black brows drew together.

      “This isn’t Athens.” His voice trailed off.

      “Was your heart set on it for the trade fair?”

      Instead of answering her, he continued his perusal.

      Swallowing hard she said, “That’s a rendition of medieval Thessalonica during the great Byzantine fair held in the twelfth century. Everyone came—from Constantinople, Egypt, Phoenicia, the Peloponnese.”

      His head finally lifted. This time his eyes reminded her of twin black fires. “You drew this?”

      “It’s only a sketch. I thought because Thessalonica is your home, it would be exciting and fitting to recreate that same fair with colorful merchant booths and flags from every country participating. The whole city can get involved by providing local foods and drinks, everyone in native costume. Troubadours, music, dancing.

      “Since it was the great cultural center then and still is today, I can’t think of another place in Greece more appropriate to host a trade fair, certainly not one of this magnitude.”

      She placed a sketch of a closeup of the bay in front of him. “We could invite the countries around the Mediterranean and as far away as Scandinavia to bring their restored ships and anchor them here like they once did. Everyone can go aboard to see their wares.

      “It will be like stepping back in time, but the products will be the latest in materials and textiles from around the world.

      “We’ll launch a massive ad campaign on the Internet with each country having its own Web page to list their products. I’ve already procured Web addresses. People who aren’t able to attend can place orders.

      “Think what it would mean economically to the Greek Island cottage industries for example, not to mention new world markets. Of course the pièce de résistance will be this.” He hadn’t interrupted her yet, so she whipped out her next drawing.

      “Follow the silk road from Thessalonica to Soufli. At various points along the route, the delegations will set up their silk exhibits. Visits to the mulberry tree farm and the silk mansion in Soufli will be the highlight of the tour.

      “The weather will be warm and perfect in September. Imagine the streets of Soufli lined with booths showing every stage from the secretions of the silkworm, to the silk thread ending up as a cravate or a gown.

      “We’ll woo the media ahead of time so there’ll be a blitz that hits airwaves around the wor—”

      “Ms. Hamilton.” He cut in on her.

      Her body broke out in a cold sweat. He didn’t like it. Afraid to look at him, she said, “Yes?”

      “What you’ve put together here is nothing short of sheer genius. In fact I’m having difficulty assimilating everything all at once.”

      Alex had been ready to pass out from disappointment. She still felt light-headed, except that now it was for an entirely different reason.

      “Unfortunately none of this can happen without hotel space,” he muttered. “Every place of lodging in Macedonia and Thrace should have been notified months ago in order to carry out such a fantastic plan.”

      “They were.”

      His dark head reared back in stunned surprise.

      “In Athens and the surrounding regions, too. I also notified the head of all the businesses involved, the restaurants, the universities, the musicians’ network, the transport services, port authorities, police, so they would set aside the time and plan ahead how to accommodate the huge crowds.

      “I assume