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shrewd banker who’d advanced Damon a hefty, much-needed loan in the nightmarish period after his father’s death. Ari Asteriades had believed himself invincible. He’d made no provision for key personnel insurance, left no liquid funds available. Because of Aaron, Damon had managed to fight off the circling sharks and save Stellar International, keeping control in the family, keeping his tattered pride intact.
    Aaron Grainger certainly hadn’t deserved to die broken and bankrupt. Damon had heard the tales about Rebecca’s profligacy. The fabulous designer wardrobe she’d ordered after her honeymoon, the jewels she’d demanded, the expensive flutters at the bookies on the racecourse, the overseas trips she’d insisted on. How she’d convinced a besotted Aaron to support her impulsive business schemes, all of which had demanded huge resources.
    And then there had been the story about her lover. A handsome drug addict she’d begged Aaron to bail out of trouble. Rumour had it that Aaron had put his foot down that time. The lover had been history—but only after Aaron had paid off his horrendous debts.
    Damon’s jaw tightened. Reaching the Mercedes, Damon opened the trunk and tossed in his overnight bag and laptop case. Aaron should have put a stop to it sooner, before his beautiful wife had driven him to death—and dishonour.
    No doubt about it, Rebecca deserved whatever she got.
    He slammed the driver’s door harder than he’d intended and stuck the key in the ignition. The ring of his cell phone interrupted his angry musings, and he jabbed a button on the cell phone where he’d just secured it against the dashboard. “Yes?” he demanded.
    “Will she do it?” Savvas asked.
    There was no need to ask to whom Savvas was referring. Reluctant to report his failure, Damon responded, “How is Mama?”
    “Feeling dizzy again. The doctor is concerned about her. He says she worries too much, that she must take things easy.”
    “Or?” Damon knew there had to be a consequence. Dr. Campbell was not given to fussing unnecessarily.
    “Or she could have another heart attack, and this time…” Savvas’s voice trailed away.
    “And this time it might prove fatal,” Damon finished grimly.
    “Don’t talk like that!”
    “It’s the reality.” Damon could almost see his brother crossing himself superstitiously at his words.
    “You know, Damon, sometimes I wish I’d never asked Demetra to marry me. This damn wedding—”
    “This from the man who preaches true love?” Damon cut in mockingly, disturbed more than he cared to admit by the idea that Savvas might be having second thoughts.
    “No, no. I don’t mean that I would forgo having met Demetra or falling in love with her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I meant I should have moved her in with me.”
    “Vre, the family would never have stood for it. Thea Iphegenia would’ve fainted in horror.”
    “Yet they turn a blind eye to the women you escort, Damon. They don’t accuse you of sinning.” Savvas’s complaint filled the car’s interior.
    “That’s different. I’m a widower. And anyway, I choose women of the world, not maidens with marriage written all over them, like your Demetra,” he told his brother, his mouth twisting. He stared unseeingly through the windscreen into the golden glow of the late Northland afternoon. Felicity had been his last foray into respectability. It would be a cold day in hell before he tried it again.
    “Maybe it would’ve been better to marry in court, present Mama and the family with a fait accompli. But now it’s too late—the big Greek wedding is already in production. Damon, I fear it might kill Mama.”
    “Savvas, Mama wants this wedding. Desperately. Can you deprive her of it?”
    His mother asked for so little. And gave them so much. Instead of retreating into tears and grief after his father’s unexpected and devastating death, she had battled beside him as he’d wrestled for control of