ALL OF LIZZIE’S dreams came true under a cobalt blue sky on a sugar sand beach, barefoot in the arms of the man she loved.
Stavros and Iannis had got together with their wives to ensure there was a flower-strewn canopy where their wedding ceremony would be held, and guests came from all over the island to see Lizzie in a simple gown that slipped over her head and clung to her body like a delicately embroidered, diaphanous second skin.
She was sure the flimsy ankle-length gown must have cost Damon a fortune, though he’d completely blown her mind by supplying her with an entire rail of dresses to choose from.
‘No reason why my bride should suffer because I can’t wait to marry her,’ he’d said.
‘Don’t look so worried. I found half of them in a thrift shop,’ Thea had added, with a mischievous glance at her father.
‘Yeah,’ Lizzie had agreed wryly, ‘a thrift shop named—’
‘Does it matter where they came from?’ Damon had interrupted. ‘They’ve been bought with love. Accept them.’
Now she’d sold her first painting she might just do that, Lizzie thought. Who would have known that her happiness-infused watercolours of the island would sell so well?
The Internet made everything immediate, and she might only have been back on the island for a short while, but her head was buzzing with ideas for paintings and it seemed to Lizzie that she’d found a fresh calling—better than washing dishes, though the only downside was that her nails were now customarily rimmed with paint.
As everyone cheered the newly married couple Thea joined in with the local band on an improvised stage to salute them with a resoundingly popular solo.
‘Maybe I will be a violinist, after all,’ she told Damon and Lizzie, before racing off to join the friends she would be staying with during her parents’ honeymoon.
Whatever their daughter wanted to be was all right with them, Lizzie thought as she shared a glance with Damon. They both wanted the same thing for Thea, and that was for their daughter to do what she wanted to do and be happy doing it.
‘I guess I’ll have to work harder at this family thing than I ever had to work at business,’ Damon admitted as he brought Lizzie into his arms.
‘You better had—’
‘I will,’ he promised softly, in a way that made her body yearn. ‘Starting now...’
‘What—where are you taking me?’ Lizzie demanded as Damon carried her through the line of cheering guests. ‘What about our wedding reception?’
‘Our wedding has been unconventional, and the same goes for our wedding reception,’ Damon informed her. ‘The feasting will continue without us. We’ll be back in a week’s time for a celebratory party with our friends—’
‘And where are we going in the meantime?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Some call it paradise,’ Damon told her solemnly as he strode towards the waiting helicopter. ‘I just call it bed.’
‘I’m good with that,’ Lizzie agreed.
‘Agapi mou, you’re the love of my life,’ Damon assured her with a soft, husky laugh. ‘And I need at least a week to prove that to you before the rest of our happily married life can continue—or I will surely die of frustration.’
‘Me too,’ Lizzie said, nestling close in the arms of the man she adored.
* * * * *