Chapter One

An Accidental Greek Wedding
by Carol Grace

In this romantic romp through the Greek Isles, Carol Grace pens the delightful story of maid of honor and groom-to-be hot on the trail of a runaway bride...and quite possibly falling in love!

Jane Atwood has loved Alex Woods for years. His upcoming wedding to her best friend — the Greek- American beauty Sofia Leonakis — doesn't make it any easier. Nor does the Greek island setting (is there a more romantic place on earth?) or her status as maid of honor. But when Sofia and Alex have a huge fight five nights before the wedding, Sofia runs off with a mystery man and all bets are off.

Thrown together in search of the errant bride, Jane and Alex go island-hopping. Jane tries hard to keep the "honor" in maid of honor, but her attraction to Alex deepens like a Mediterranean tan. Soon, Alex sees that she's not the plain Jane he thought she was — and that she may be his one true love. Only on the wedding day will Jane discover whether Alex is ready to say "I do" — and to whom!

A Bon Voyage romance!

Chapter 1

She was seasick. Her first trip to the Greek Islands, and Jane Atwood's stomach was pitching and rolling along with the blue Aegean Sea. She leaned against the railing of the ferry, wedged among the tourists oohing and ahhing over the view of the island with its white, sugar-cube houses that clung to the lush green hills and the rocky cliffs that plunged into turquoise bays. As the waves slammed against the hull, Jane kept her eyes on the horizon and did not look down.

Sofia had warned her the seas could be rough in May. But Sofia wanted her wedding to be in May on the island of Mios, and she wanted Jane to be her bridesmaid, and Sofia Leonakis always got what she wanted, including the smartest, sexiest, most ambitious man in the world — Alex Woods.

Jane thought she'd either have to throw up or leap overboard and take her chances of being washed up on one of the island's sandy beaches. With any luck she'd be rescued by one of those handsome Greek fishermen Sofia told her about.

A familiar deep voice said in her ear, "Welcome to Greece. Are you ready to face the madhouse?"

Alex had snuck up on her before she was prepared to come face to face with six feet two inches of all-American masculine charm, dammit. To imagine that he'd gained weight and had sagging jowls since she'd last seen him was wishful thinking. No, he was just as gorgeous as ever; lean, tanned, fit, and smiling. And he had the same effect he'd always had on her: he left her breathless, tongue-tied, and awkward.

"Oh my God, Alex, what are you doing here?" she blurted. "You were supposed to be on the island days ago getting ready for the wedding."

"I know. I got held up in Seattle, then I missed my connection in New York. But I'm getting there as fast as I can. Calm down, Jane. Haven't you heard the saying, 'Siga, siga'? — 'Slowly, slowly'? This is Greece. They have a different sense of time here."

"Sofia has the same sense of time she always had — she wants everything done yesterday. She must be going crazy that you're not there. But you always did like to make her crazy."

"Me? She's the one who makes me crazy. This wedding has turned into a circus. It's not until Saturday, you know. Plenty of time to get ready."

"She wanted you here last week for the parties and the baptism and everything else that goes into it. Sofia does everything on a grand scale. You should know that by now. She's been planning her wedding for years. Why do you act surprised?"

"I'm not surprised, I'm just on edge." He rubbed his chin. "Bad food, no sleep, jet lag, culture shock. You name it, I've got it."

"And pre-wedding jitters?" Jane suggested. Though at the moment she was the one with the jitters. Seeing Alex again, his hair windblown, the shadow of a beard on his jaw, and that cleft in his chin, made goose bumps break out on her arms despite the warm Greek sun.

"Real men don't get jitters," he said with a wry smile. Then he turned and looked out across the water toward the island. If they listened hard enough, Jane was sure they could hear Sofia's voice giving orders, venting her frustration, and ranting about her absent bridegroom. "Though this is not the way I would have planned it," he added under his breath.

Jane followed Alex's gaze to the red terra-cotta roofs that peeked above the treetops. She wondered which was the villa that belonged to Sofia's family.

"How would you do it?" she asked.

"Go down to city hall, pay the two dollars or whatever it is, break out a bottle of champagne, and be done with it. I wouldn't have phony posed pictures, snarky hand-written poems to each other, a sky-high wedding cake frosted with wallpaper paste, and an elaborate baptism ceremony for the groom. Why does everything have to be such a big deal?"

"It's a once-in-a-lifetime event," Jane said. "Did you tell Sofia your idea of the perfect wedding?"

He shot her a look that said, Are you kidding?

Jane could just imagine Sofia's response. Either she would have had a tantrum or laughed herself silly. "I understand about the cake and the poems, but the pictures? Wouldn't you want a photo album to show your grandchildren?"

"Grandchildren?" He threw up his hands. "Good God, Jane, I'm only twenty-eight, even though today I feel at least fifty-eight. Don't worry, there are going to be pictures and cake and flowers and whatever else she wants. It's Sofia's show and I'm just the guy in the suit.

"I know I sound annoyed, but you're the only person I can tell what I really think. You always were, ever since the first day we met. Chemistry 101, remember?"

Remember? As if she could forget. He was her lab partner who never blamed her for that unfortunate explosion that singed her eyebrows and blew him across the room. He'd told the professor it wasn't her fault.

She agreed. It was his fault, for making her so nervous she'd misread the formula for ammonium dichromate. Was that the day she'd fallen in love with him, when he'd taken the blame for her mistake?

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here on my way to marry Sofia," he continued.

That was true. Jane had brought Alex back to the dorm to study and introduced him to Sofia, her gorgeous Greek-American roommate. In one fell swoop she'd lost her best friend and the man of her dreams. She'd turned her energies to studying and graduated with honors. No boyfriend, but a Phi Beta Kappa key.

"I owe you big-time, Jane." Alex leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Just a friendly kiss, but it made her heart thud so wildly she was afraid he could hear it.

"About the wedding," he said, oblivious, as always, to the effect he had on her. "I'm really fine with it. While she was working on it, I was free to work on other things. So it took six months out of her life and God knows how much of her parents' money — if she's happy, then I'm happy." He smiled, a perfunctory smile that was gone as fast as it had appeared.

Still, Jane felt relieved. However he felt, however late he was getting there, everything would be fine once they arrived. Sofia would understand that maybe real men did get the jitters. She'd understand that Alex was late because he had other things to do, and she wouldn't lose her cool when he showed up.

The boat rolled. Jane's stomach lurched.

Alex stepped forward and looked at her with concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Your face is green. You look awful."

She swallowed hard and clamped her lips together. Her knees wobbled and she reached out for something for balance. She grabbed Alex's arm, then she leaned over ... and vomited on his shoes.

"Oh, God, look what I've done!" Though her stomach felt better, she'd ruined his shoes. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't mention it," he said, looking down at his feet as if they belonged to someone else. He probably wished they did. "I think I have another pair."

Shocked, she asked, "You mean you're wearing your wedding shoes now?"

"I might be. I packed in a hurry. Who's going to notice what I'm wearing on my feet, anyway?"

"Sofia will." Jane took a deep breath and felt much more steady, more sure of herself. She was no longer that impoverished, insecure college girl who blew up experiments. She was a CPA with an excellent job, a good future, and a man who wanted to marry her. She was a woman who was up to any emergency. She reached for her large leather purse. "I have a spot remover right here."

"Wait a minute." He took the spray can out of her hands and read the label. "That'll take the skin off my feet. Save it for the next catastrophe. Knowing you, I'm sure there'll be one." His teasing grin mitigated his remark.

She stuffed the spray can back in her purse, but before she could find a package of Tidy Wipes, he'd cleaned his shoes with his handkerchief.

"Sometimes I think you create disasters," he said, "because you're so good at fixing them."

"That's not true." She wasn't sure if he was referring to the lab fiasco, or the time she spilled coffee on his computer keyboard and then spent all night reinstalling his software, or the time...

"Little Ms. Fixit," he said dryly. "You look better now." He tucked a wisp of her hair that had blown across her cheek behind her ear, then he let his gaze drift down from her pale blond hair to her low-heeled sandals. "A lot better."

"Not so green?" she asked, fanning her flushed cheeks and popping a breath mint in her mouth. "That's a relief. I wouldn't want to clash with my hot-pink bridesmaid dress."

She knew she looked better now than she had in college, and even better than the last time he'd seen her while visiting Sofia in San Francisco.

Her hair was styled differently now — not that it did any good today, blown around by the sea breeze. And she had an elegant wardrobe of basic beige, white, and black tailored clothes that were right for the cool, foggy city she lived in.

Of course, it didn't matter how much better she looked when Sofia was around; all eyes would be on her, she thought with a pang of envy.

"Hot pink? That doesn't sound like you."

"It isn't me. But this isn't my wedding."

"I know how you feel," Alex said. Then he turned around. "Here we are. We'll be docking any minute. Get your bag."

Copyright © 2004 by Carol Culver

About the Author

Carol Grace was born with wanderlust. She was raised in Illinois but longed to go to other places so she spent her junior year in college at the Sorbonne. After college she went to San Francisco to work at KQED-TV where she met her future husband. At KQED she was the switchboard operator and did on-the-air promotions (in French) for her idol, Julia Child, proving to her parents that French was a useful major after all. She left TV to sail with the hospital ship HOPE for three voyages. After marrying, she and her husband went to Algeria and Iran to teach English. The returned to California to raise their children in the mountain-top home overlooking the ocean. Carol says that writing is another way of making life exciting.