My Big Fat Christmas Wedding: A Funny And Heartwarming Christmas Romance. Samantha Tonge

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СКАЧАТЬ have something very important to say.’ He looked back at me, all the twinkle gone from his eyes. ‘Can’t put it off any longer. It’s been building up.’

      ‘Is something the matter?’ My heart thumped. Perhaps our time together had been too intense, and he wanted to step back. What if Niko had brought me onto the ocean to let me down gently; say it wasn’t working out, me living in his family’s taverna, baking and selling my scones in the half of the building they’d closed down; poetry aside, that we were too different, with me thinking in numbers, him thinking in shoals; that all those years we’d played together as children, during summer holidays, didn’t mean we were destined to spend our lives together as adults?

      I swallowed. ‘What is it?’

      ‘Yesterday. I spoke to your father.’

      ‘Did he ring?’ I sat bolt upright. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Is everything okay?’ My mind raced. Was something wrong at home? Or was Niko worried I’d have no job if we split up and I decided to return to England? Perhaps he was trying to line me up a position with my dad – not that I’d need anyone’s help. I was an independent, modern woman who…aarghh, who melted like chocolate in the sun, when Niko touched me or spoke with his sexy Greek accent that made my skin flush and palms moisten.

      ‘We…I…your father agreed that…’

      ‘Niko! Just spit it out!’

      ‘Huh?’ His brow furrowed and he stuck out his tongue. ‘See, I am not eating anything.’

      ‘No! In English that means hurry up and tell me. What’s this all about?’

      ‘Us. The future.’ He pulled a small red box out of his back pocket.

      I gasped. Gosh. Really? But…’ My eyes pricked.

      ‘Your father gives us his blessing,’ Niko prised open the lid and looked up at me shyly. ‘I hope you don’t mind me seeking your father’s permission first but…’ He shrugged those strong shoulders and I nodded, knowing how important some traditions were to him, especially when it came to family. ‘Pippa, you are sweeter than the most honey-filled baklava in Athens. Your first smile of the day is my sunrise. Marry me. Make me the happiest man in the whole of Greece.’

      A lump rose in my throat. What an exceptionally pretty silver ring, bearing a sparkling blue sapphire, surrounded by tiny diamonds. It reminded me of the blue and white houses across the island.

      ‘This belonged to my great aunt Alexis. She had no children and considered me her own grandson. When I was a little boy, she gave this to Mama and told me to one day give it to the woman who captured my heart.’ A smile crossed his face. ‘Of course, at the time I was more interested in capturing carp.’ He squeezed my fingers and his face kind of scrunched up. ‘I…I know it’s not long after Henrik’s proposal. And Greece…the economy… So if you need time to think – I would understand if you don’t see your future in Kos.’

      My heart pounded and I wanted to stand upright and sing! Niko and me married? A tear trickled down my cheek. I couldn’t have felt more different to when my practical, down-to-earth ex-boyfriend had proposed in the summer – which was odd. Up until my trip here, I’d agreed with Henrik that slushy declarations of love were for teenagers or the pastel-covered beach reads that I ironically liked to read. But there was something about Niko’s seductive words that always softened my logical, pragmatic part. And as for the country’s difficulties, I felt nothing but compassion for the Greek people.

      ‘No.’

      His shoulders dropped.

      ‘No, no, I don’t need time to think!’

      His eyes sparked and he pulled me towards him, his warm mouth once again owning mine. I breathed in his natural aroma, a kind of musky, leather masculine scent. My desire for him became more urgent, as our bodies pressed together. Gently, he pushed me away, eyes dancing, cheeks flushed. He took the ring out of the box and hesitated for a moment. Of course – over here wedding rings didn’t go on the left-hand finger, but the right.

      More tears flowing, I laughed and offered him my right hand.

      ‘We’re going to have to compromise,’ I said. ‘Won’t I have to convert to your religion? And then there is the reception venue to choose. Above all else, I don’t want an over-the-top wedding.’

      Niko’s infectious chuckles filled the balmy evening air. ‘Good luck with telling Mama and Grandma. We’d better set an early date, if you don’t want arrangements to snowball.’

      Snowball. Great word. Like so many of the locals, Niko spoke good English, despite sometimes still misunderstanding the basics. Whereas Greek, to me, might as well have been like learning cat or dog, and don’t even get me started on its written alphabet.

      I clapped my hands. ‘Then talking of snow, what about a Christmas wedding? It would cheer up those quiet winter months you talk of.’

      In response, Niko – my husband-to-be – gave me a kiss hot enough to turn the sturdiest of snowmen into a puddle.

       Chapter One

      Imagine this – like a Disney princess, I’ll actually wear a crown at my wedding. Not that I aspire to be swept off my feet by some prince on a white steed. No. I’m a twenty-first century woman who has the tools to write her own happy ending. That’s what I’d been brought up to believe, anyway. But still – I couldn’t help but feel excited about my very own fairy tale ceremony, set on a Greek island, with a lean, lush, loyal fisherman hero fiancé. Mmm, talk about my very own Mr Incredible.

      ‘Ya sou, Pippitsa! Day-dreaming again?’ Sophia’s heart-shaped face broke into a smile as she entered the gleaming silver kitchen. She ran a hand over her greying hair, scraped back in a bun. ‘My Niko is the same. You two honey puffs are like love-struck teenagers this morning.’

      With a wink, Sophia proceeded to tidy the cutlery drawer, whistling along to the Christmas CD. Traditional Greek carols played by cheerful recorders and glockenspiels rang out. Sophia loved the festive season and had been counting down to today, the first of December, so that she could claim a tenuous legitimacy for starting the celebrations.

      Gently my fingertips rubbed butter into flour. ‘I can’t help it. Our wedding month is finally here! We have lots to think about with only four weeks to the ceremony.’ I gave a wry smile. ‘Almost as much as you and Grandma.’

      Sophia chuckled. ‘Do not begrudge us. A wedding is one of the greatest occasions for any family. Grandma has loved organising the flowers and together with Georgios, I think we have created the perfect menu for the reception.’

      My chest glowed. Yes, Niko’s dad had been practising recipes for weeks. With his perspiring bald head and knitted-together bushy eyebrows, he’d slaved over cheese and honey pies, moussaka and special sourdough breads with coins hidden inside. And Grandma had cleverly designed inexpensive decorations for the church and reception that would take place here at Taxos Taverna, incorporating her namesake bloom, Iris. What’s more…ah. Forgive me. Temporarily I’d forgotten my good resolutions not to become a wedding bore.

      Whilst I added feta cheese, sundried tomatoes and oregano to my dough mix, a herby fragrance rose up from the bowl. My mouth salivated at the prospect СКАЧАТЬ