One Hour to Midnight (20 page)

"You okay?" With a hand either side of her face, he looked into her eyes. "Do you want to call the whole thing off, Veronica? It's not too late."

Startled she looked up at him. "Would you?"
 

"If that's what you want. Do you?" The sincerity of his words settled her agitation. "Do you want to back out?"

She lifted a hand and laid over his. "No."

He studied her face for several moments and then gave a satisfied nod and drew her forward to introduce her to the priest. "Reverent Dmitri Methias, this is my fiancée Veronica Langdon."

The priest stepped forward and caught her hand in a firm grip. "I must ask you Veronica. Are you being coerced into this marriage?"

Veronica's gaze winged to Leon then back to the priest. "No Father. I am marrying Leon of my own free will."
 

The priest inclined his black turbaned head. "Then let us commence."

He turned and walked ahead of them into the church.

As she followed her hand on Leon's arm, and during the ceremony, Veronica was aware of the solemnity of the service. She handed her posy to Tania and then the priest stepped forward and placed a crown of flowers on each of their heads.

He opened his prayer book and his sonorous words filled the empty church.

Milas produced two wide gold rings.

Veronica looked up into Leon's face but could glean nothing from his hooded expression. Was he remembering his wedding to Julia? She shied away from the thought and concentrated on the present, repeating her vows in a soft voice.
 

Leon's responses were strong and sure.
 

Her hand trembled as he slid a wide gold band onto her finger. They shook so much she struggled and needed his help to push the gold band onto his finger.

"I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Without haste, purpose in every movement, Leon slid his hands up her arms, across her shoulders and up the slender column of her neck until he held her face cradled in the palms of his hands.

Veronica swallowed, his intense expression unnerved her. The crown of flowers he wore should have made him look effeminate but it had the opposite effect. With careful deliberation he lowered his head and kissed her. There was nothing gentle or tender in this bridal kiss.

It was pure male possession.
 

He was intent on branding her mouth with his. This kiss was a statement of intent. One she couldn't misinterpret.
 

With this kiss Leon staked his claim on her.
 

He lifted his head, grey eyes glittering in those grave features. "Greetings, Mrs Karvasis."

"Greetings, Mr Karvasis." Her voice quivered.

The age-old salutation settled soul deep.
 

For the first time in her memory, Veronica gained a true sense of belonging. For better or for worse, this enigmatic man was her husband. A thrill of possessive pride raced through her, filling her with hope and fierce determination.
 

This marriage gave her a home, a husband, a family and fulfilled a cherished dream. A dream, Veronica vowed to do everything within her power to nurture. Bemused, she signed the register then watched as Leon dashed off his signature.
 

It was like the man. Bold, assertive and very sure.

As Tania and Milas signed the register, the priest moved forward and removed the crown of flowers, first from her head and then Leon's intoning as he did so, "Your union is now sanctified before God and the state."

Leon tucked Veronica's hand through his arm, and laid his hand over hers. The protective gesture increased her sense of belonging.

That possessive little gesture proclaimed to the world that they were now a unit.

Husband and wife.

As she walked down the aisle on his arm, Veronica's apprehension fell away.

As Leon's wife she was invincible. They stepped outside into the late afternoon sunshine and to her surprise there were now a phalanx of cameramen.
 

"This way." Others quickly joined their photographer.

"How…?" Veronica rapidly grasped the fact that Leon's second marriage was enough to spark intense media interest.

"Smile Veronica," Leon bent his head and murmured in her ear. "Give them good photos."

As they walked towards the Bentley the newsmen crowded closer. A barrage of questions peppered them from all sides.

"How's your son?"

"Making good progress." Leon smiled with unruffled good humour answering only the questions he chose too.
 

With the smooth expertise of long practice he ushered Veronica into the back seat of the Bentley, Kathleen in the front. Safely inside, Veronica took a deep fortifying breath. Leon turned to the reporters. "I'll issue a bulletin when there's any news, okay?"

"When's the transplant?" One persistent man moved closer.

Leon ignored him and without haste, settled in the seat beside Veronica, shutting out the encroaching newsmen.

"This happens all the time?" Kathleen turned to face them from the front seat.

"It's part of the job." Leon was philosophical. He picked up Veronica's hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's not too bad."

This reminder of public scrutiny brought the chill of remembrance. Would those newshounds dig up all those old scandals? Just thinking about it made Veronica ill.

She turned the ring on her finger.
For better, for worse.

At Claremont, Cassie greeted them, her homely face wreathed in smiles. "Welcome home. I've set afternoon tea in the turquoise room."

Leon escorted her into the expansive formal drawing room. Tania, Milas and Kathleen followed in their wake.

"Oh," she breathed stunned.
 

The cluster of guests and the wedding cake set on a side table surprised Veronica. Afternoon tea was laid on fine china. Champagne cooled in ice buckets, delicate crystal flutes waited.

"You didn't think you were getting away without anyone to wish us well did you?" Leon whispered in an amused aside.

Too aware of being the centre of attention, Veronica summoned a smile as she moved at Leon's side.
 
She resisted looking at the huge portrait of Julia overseeing proceedings.

Sonia came up to her and gripped her hand, her grin an eloquent
I told you so.

"I don't know whether to congratulate you or suggest you see a psychiatrist?" she said with droll humour. "I wish you luck."

The other woman's quirky humour made Veronica laugh. José's chuckle was like the man, rich and dark. They made a striking couple, Sonia's fair colouring such a contrast to his dark good looks and they looked so happy.
 

"Congratulations," he said, dark eyes glittering in his tanned face.

Sonia beckoned to two teenagers. "Katya, this is Jordan's mother, Veronica. And she's now your new aunt."

"Hi, Aunt Veronica," Katya beamed, obviously curious.

And given Veronica's history with this family, the girl's curiosity was no real surprise, nor was it one-sided. She'd never even seen Yannis's other children. Katya had her father's silver-grey eyes, a startling contrast to her fair hair and tanned skin.

"It's nice to finally get to meet you, Katya." Veronica gripped the girl's outstretched hand.

"And this is Andreas, my son." There was no mistaking the pride in Sonia's tone.

Veronica turned to Yannis's elder son and her smile froze. Hostility and hatred oozed from the teen like pus from a septic wound. There was no welcome or smile from this young man.

"Hello, Andreas." Veronica held out her hand. The teen touched of his finger tips to hers, turned his back and walked away.

A shiver worked its way down her spine.

José growled, his brows almost meeting in a thunderous scowl. "That was so rude," he said in a low, angry undertone. "Andreas needs to apologise."

Veronica laid a hand on his arm. "Don't, please. He'll come around in time."

José turned to Sonia. "You need to have a word with that young man. If you won't, I will."

They moved off, Sonia talking to him in a soft undertone, clearly agitated.
 

"What's with him?" Tania sidled up to her indicating where Sonia and José were talking to Andreas. "No guessing, he hates your guts. Where does he fit in the picture?"

"He's Jordan's half-brother."

"With rellies like him, Vic, you sure don't need enemies. Better you than me. Nice digs you've scored here." The irreverent comment elicited another chuckle. No one could be gloomy around Tania. She nodded in the direction of the portrait over the fireplace. "So that's the competition? That's one tough cookie."

"She's dead," Veronica whispered.

"Is she?" Tania's green eyes flashed. "I don't think much of your new husband's sensitivity."

"Hush up." Veronica choked on a laugh. "Leon's got more than a few photographs on his plate."

"A few?" Tania looked at her eyebrows raised. "When are you going to consign all these photos to a dungeon? What's in all the other rooms? The same?"

"Pretty much," Veronica admitted pulling a wry face.

"Was she vain or did she just love herself?"

Veronica choked out another laugh just as Milas walked up, put an arm around Tania's waist and pulled her back against his chest.
 

"Leave off, spitfire," he said quietly in her ear. "Leon and Veronica will find their own way, in their own time."

Leon returned to her side, looking at her intently before giving Tania and Milas a frowning glance. "You okay."

Veronica held her breath beseeching Tania not to mention the photos.
 

"What could possibly be wrong?" Milas smoothed over the awkward moment.
 

"I'm going to steal my bride. Cassie wants us to cut the cake." As Leon guided her across the room he murmured in her ear, "What was all that about?"

Veronica scrambled for an answer. No way was she about to mention the photos. When she saw Andreas she gave him a partial answer.
 

"Milas and Tania overheard Andreas. He was so rude and they were concerned."

Leon lifted his head, seeking his nephew. Veronica felt a tug of guilt as the teen flushed crimson as he caught the full-force of Leon's glare.
 

"I'll deal with him later."

Veronica paused and laid a hand on his arm. "Let it go, Leon. I think he's already felt the edge of José's tongue."

"Later, he'll catch mine."

He guided her to the small table that held the beautifully decorated wedding cake.

Her hand held in his, they wielded the knife. And to a chorus of catcalls and cheers fed each other the obligatory slice of cake and toasted each other with champagne. As they did, Veronica glanced past Leon and caught Andreas's glance.

And the blood iced in her veins.

Chapter Twelve

"M
rs Karvasis? Come on wake up now, Mrs Karvasis?"

Veronica frowned trying to make sense of the words. Who was calling Julia? Didn't they know she was dead?
 

Someone kept tapping the side of her face. She grumbled and tried to move away from the annoyance.

"Wake up, now." The imperious voice was more forceful.

"Go away." Veronica fought her way through layers of cotton clouds.
 

A face floated above her.
 

"Yannis?" Desperate, Veronica tried to catch hold of the ethereal vision. "Yannis don't go, please."

She tried to reach him, but like every other time, he laughed and vanished in the mist. And her tears overflowed. She needed to catch him to find out why.

A harshly indrawn breath, a sense of shocked stillness made her eyes open.
 

Confused, she stared up into Leon's grim face.

She tried to move and then wished she hadn't. A groan was wrenched from her. Had she tangled with a truck?
 
She hurt all over and her mouth was so dry.

"Veronica? Sweetheart? It's time to wake up now. It's all over." Leon's voice was so aloof and impersonal. "How are you feeling?"

"Don't ask," she muttered turning her head and glared at the source of the tapping. "Stop that."

A nurse chuckled. "Tetchy are we?"

"Would you like some water?" Leon asked.

She nodded and managed to open heavy eyelids. He slid a strong arm around her and lifted her so she could drink from a bendy straw. "Enough?"
 

When she nodded he settled her back on the pillows and smoothed a hand over her forehead. "Feeling better?"