know. And the idea of it makes me feel claustrophobic. How do you stand it?”
“I leave. A lot.” Her hometown made her feel claustrophobic more often than not, in truth. Especially since she always ran the risk of seeing Gil and Sarah if she went grocery shopping. And now it was Gil and Sarah and Aiden.
Suddenly the fresh ocean air seemed too briny, too harsh. Her throat tightened against it.
“That’s one solution,” he said.
“A temporary one.”
“Why not make it permanent?”
Because then she really would have to let go. “I own a house. It’s nice. I have … petunias.”
“And I have bougainvillea. There are flowers everywhere.”
“But they’re my flowers.” And it was the place she could go and rehash where her dreams had started. And where they had ended.
No. Not ended. Changed. She was just hunting for some new ones now. Well, that was total garbage. She had a bunch of new ones. She was successful. She had awesome shoes. She helped people find … well, lasting marriage if not love.
“You could transplant them.”
She sighed. “Oh, come on, Stavros, they’re only petunias.”
He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, catching her off guard. “Perhaps find me a woman you wouldn’t mind spending time with.”
His suggestion caught her off guard more than his laughter. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’re funny. Quick. I imagine you don’t hang out with people who bore you.”
“I don’t hang out with much of anyone these days, outside of a working relationship, but you’re right, I don’t.”
“So, find me someone you would be amused by. Someone who has better things to talk about than the weather.”
“The weather here is lovely,” she said, unable to resist.
“Things like that,” he said, amusement lacing his tone. “Find a woman who does things like that.”
“So someone who’s like me, but not me.”
“Exactly.”
He was teasing. And even if he weren’t, there was no way she could be suitable. She wasn’t sweet and demure. She didn’t know how to do a royal wave. And she wasn’t fertile. Not even maybe.
The only requirement she met was being a woman, a broken one. And that just wasn’t enough.
Still, when she looked at her ex-husband’s curvy, blonde new wife, she felt like he had gone and done that same thing. A woman who was her, but not her. He’d found a replacement model with a working, intact uterus.
It was something that still burned no matter how hard she tried to pretend it didn’t. She didn’t love Gil anymore. She didn’t want him back. But the way it had all gone down … that was the really hard thing to deal with.
That was the part she had to process. So she just had to move forward. Inch by inch, day by day. Breath by breath.
Some days were more successful than others.
“Charming,” she said, turning and heading toward the staircase.
“Jessica.” Stavros caught her arm and turned her to face him, his dark eye intense. “I’m sorry. That came out … It was a bad joke.”
She shrugged and tried to pull away from him. Away from his touch. His heat. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired. I’ll think about what we talked about today and I’ll get back to you, okay?”
He released his hold on her, her skin still burning where his flesh had touched hers. Scorched hers. How long had it been since someone had touched her? And by touch, she didn’t mean handshakes. Didn’t mean brushes of fingers, or even a proprietary male hand on her back as she was guided into a building.
Really touched her. Personal. Caring, almost.
It had been so long. Even longer since she’d felt a real connection with someone. That was actually worse than not being touched. Being touched, being skin-to-skin with someone, and knowing that there was no connection at all.
This wasn’t like that. She didn’t want to crave it. She’d let go of those desires and had done her very best to replace them with new ones. He was ruining it.
Reflexively, she brushed her fingers over the spot where his had rested. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Stavros, I’m fine,” she said, finding it easier to use his first name now. Here in the villa and not in the palace. “I’m not vying for the position of wife to the future king of Kyonos, remember? I’m helping you find her. And I will. Promise.”
“Have dinner with me,” he said.
“Where?”
“Here, at the villa.”
The thought of it made her stomach feel all fluttery. It made her palms sweaty, too. She was seriously out of practice when it came to dealing with men. Except she wasn’t, not really, she just never got asked to have dinner with them in a way that went beyond business.
And you think this is more than business?
No. Of course it wasn’t. She was here, in the villa, and he was being hospitable to someone who was working to find him a wife. And she was not that wife.
She didn’t want to be anyway. Not even tempted.
The only reason she’d forgotten, for a moment, that his invitation wasn’t meant to be an intimate one, was because he’d touched her arm. It had caused a momentary short circuit but she was back now.
“That would be lovely. We can discuss some women who might have more advanced conversation skills …”
“Leave your computer in your room.”
“B-but …”
“Come on, Jessica, I think we can have a conversation without your piece of technical equipment between us.”
Did he? Because she didn’t think so. She wasn’t sure what she would do with her hands. Or what she would look at when she started to melt into those dark chocolate eyes of his and she needed a reprieve.
“Of course. I don’t have a problem with that. None at all.”
“Good. See you in a couple of hours. That will give you enough time to unpack and freshen up?”
She frowned and touched her hair. Freshen up? Did she need it?
“Not everything I say is a commentary on you. Or me finding
