and dressed, donning tan shorts and a fitted white T-shirt before lacing up a pair of sneakers. For one moment she allowed herself to picture the floral sundress and new sandals in her missing luggage. Shaking off her wistfulness, she headed for the door, eager to leave the hotel and start exploring. The day before, she’d been too exhausted to do more than walk up the block from the hotel to a small market that the concierge had recommended. She’d bought bread and fresh fruit. Today, she was in the mood for a real meal and ancient ruins.
It came as a total surprise when the first sight to greet her when she entered the lobby was Nick Costas striding purposefully through the main door. He broke into a smile that made her knees weak. It buoyed her ego that he appeared so pleased to see her.
“Darcie. Excellent. You are still here.”
“Hello, Nick. Is something wrong?”
“Wrong?” He shook his head. “Not at all.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I sense a but coming?”
“Because you are too perceptive.” He laughed. “You were on your way out.”
“Yes. To eat.”
“May I join you?”
“Okay. I should warn you that I’m not sure exactly where I’m going. I was just planning to wander around until I found a restaurant that looked appealing.”
“May I make a suggestion then?”
“By all means.”
“I know a wonderful spot not far from here that makes the best moussaka.”
“Moussaka. My favorite,” she said, although she had no idea what it was. Intrigued by both the meal and the man, Darcie agreed.
Nick took her to an out-of-the-way café that made her feel as if she had stepped back in time thanks to the building’s neoclassical architecture. Conversations stopped as they wound their way to a table in the back of the small, crowded establishment. Darcie got the feeling she was the only tourist among the patrons. After giving her a cursory glance, however, the other guests returned their attention to their own tables.
A waiter appeared not long after they settled in their seats and took their order. She asked for the moussaka, in part because Nick had recommended it, and because she was unfamiliar with the other items on the menu. He ordered the same, as well as coffee for the pair of them and a bottle of sparkling water.
“I get the feeling I’m in store for an authentic Greek meal,” she said once they were alone.
“You are. I hope you like it.”
Her stomach was growling loud enough to be embarrassing. “I’m sure I will,” she told him. “Um, what exactly is moussaka?”
His rich laughter rumbled. The sound was pleasing, especially since she didn’t feel his amusement came at her expense.
“It is a dish made with eggplant. Do you like eggplant?” he asked.
“I love it. Yum.”
She’d eaten it...once. It had been breaded and pan-fried, and then slathered in Evelyn’s homemade tomato sauce and melted parmesan cheese. The indigestion Darcie had experienced afterward likely had been the result of Tad’s mother’s fault-finding throughout the meal rather than the food itself.
Nick apparently wasn’t fooled. “You are an adventurous one, I see. Willing to try new things.”
She liked his assessment, even if the speculative gleam in his eye gave her pause.
“I believe in being open-minded. Why not take a few chances?”
Nick smiled. “Why not indeed?”
A moment of silence passed as he studied her. She found it hard not to fidget given the intensity of his gaze. Was he picturing her naked? Darcie sucked in her stomach just to be on the safe side and found the courage to ask, “Perhaps you should tell me what’s on your mind.”
“A favor.”
“Oh.” She stopped holding in her stomach.
“You look disappointed?”
She brushed her hair back from her face. “Not at all. Ask away. Ask for anything. I owe you.”
This time his laughter was low, intimate and ridiculously arousing. “That is not the sort of thing you should tell a man, agapi mou. If I were without scruples, you could find yourself in trouble after making a statement such as that.”
Darcie was too intrigued and too attracted to Nick to be alarmed. Maybe it was the warmth that radiated from his dark eyes, or the slightly self-deprecating quirk of his sensual lips. She was sure he posed no threat to her safety. To her sanity? Well, that remained to be seen.
“But you do have scruples.”
“How can you tell?”
“A man without them would not have bothered to help me yesterday without asking for anything in return.”
“Yet here I am one day later, begging a favor.” His lips quirked again.
“Begging is different than demanding. A man without scruples would demand, I think.”
“I am glad you see it that way.” His expression sobered then. “You are certainly under no obligation to agree to my proposition. I want to make that perfectly clear from the outset.”
Proposition? The mere word, said as it was in that delicious accent, caused heat to curl low in Darcie’s belly. Sitting with Nick inside the little café, she felt worldly, sophisticated and a lifetime removed from the awkward young woman from Buffalo who had allowed herself to be browbeaten into inertia by Tad’s overbearing mother.
Darcie was pleased to find her voice was magnificently matter-of-fact when she replied, “It’s clear, Nick. So, what is this proposition of yours?”
“I would like to invite you to dinner tonight.”
“Dinner?” She blinked.
Maybe she’d heard him wrong. Darcie wasn’t disappointed, but she was somewhat surprised. Sharing another meal seemed, well, a little mundane given his dramatic lead-in. Maybe proposition had a different meaning in Greece than it did back in the United States. Or maybe she’d imagined the speculative gleam in his eyes. Or maybe she was just too long out of practice with members of the opposite sex to be able to figure out their intentions beyond mere flirting.
“Dinner. Yes.” He hesitated then before adding. “With my family.”
Her mouth fell open at that. She knew she was gaping, yet it was a full thirty seconds before she could force her lips to close. She’d dated Tad for more than a year before he’d taken her home to meet his mother. Little had she known then that he’d been doing her a favor. Still...
“Are you going to say anything?” Nick asked at last. A grin lurked around the corners of his mouth.
“Sorry,”
