nodded. “All right.”
“I know that will run during our … relationship. But I suppose as long as you don’t …”
“I will be faithful to you, you don’t have to worry about that. And I will be faithful when I am married,” he said.
She swallowed. It was the right thing for him to say, the right thing for him to do. He should keep his vows. She believed in marriage, respected it. For all that she and Gil had screwed up their marriage, neither of them had cheated.
Still, a part of her died when he said it. “I’m glad. For all of that.”
“This might not be the best idea. But I don’t regret it.”
“I can’t, either,” she said. It was the absolute truth. How could she regret what had passed between them? How could she regret the loss of a fear? There were others, of course. But she was free of one, too. And that wasn’t a small thing.
“So, tell me,” she said, attempting a subject change, in a bid keep things from getting too heavy, “what does a woman expect when she signs on to be your temporary companion?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never had a relationship quite like this. Of course, I’ve never met a woman quite like you.”
“What do you normally do?”
“There’s that sort of coyness to it that one employs in a sexual relationships. Gifts, shallow conversation, references only to the here and now, nothing said of the future one way or the other. And with you, there’s no coyness, that’s for sure.”
She smiled. “I don’t do coy.”
“I noticed.” He tightened his hold on her. “All of my life has been devoted to fulfilling the needs of others. Right now, just now, I want to meet my own.”
So this was for him, as much as for her. She liked knowing that. Felt empowered by it. Because there was something he needed to, and maybe she could provide it. Maybe she could be the one to give him moments of bliss. Moments that were purely his own, so that he would have the memories years later when his life was no longer his at all.
“What do you want?” she asked.
He sifted his fingers through her hair. “I want to sleep with you tonight. Just sleep, if that’s all you want.”
“That’s too easy. What else?”
“To go to the beach. Which should be easy, since we’re on an island. I am a man with the world at my fingertips in terms of the material. The thing I often find myself lacking in is a companion who makes life interesting. Who makes it fun. You be you, and I will simply enjoy it.”
“Really, you’re too nice. I feel outmatched.”
“I like your prickles,” he said. “Even more now that I understand them.”
She sat up and wrapped her arms around herself. “I should get dressed.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
“I have some work to check on, just real quick, and then … and then we can do whatever we want. Because that’s what we’ve decided to do, isn’t it? Whatever we want for the next month.”
He smiled at her and her heart felt like it tightened in on itself. She could do a month. A month was short enough. Short enough that he wouldn’t start wishing she could be a million things she could never be.
ANYTHING he wanted turned out to be much more low-key and much less in bed than she’d imagined it might be.
Stavros took her on a tour of the ruins just outside the city, and then down to the open-air markets to shop. The market ran just outside the boundaries of the packed harbor, small stalls crammed between buildings, the ocean just beyond them.
Stavros could have taken her anywhere in Piraeus. To the more modern quadrants of the city, to exclusive boutiques with cutting-edge fashion.
But he’d taken her here. Because he knew what she liked. He understood what she enjoyed. She did her best to ignore her constricted lungs and turn her focus to the items for sale.
There was an eclectic mix of trash and truly exquisite treasure on offer. Things she would have found at an average yard sale in her home town, fresh seafood and antiques all mingled together. She bought a necklace fashioned from fishing line and glass beads, and earrings made from old coins.
“It’s certainly vintage,” Stavros said, eyeing her purchases later at an outdoor restaurant.
“Yes, most definitely.”
“You need a pallas to go with it.”
She pulled her necklace out of the bag and held it up so that the afternoon sun filtered through the glass beads. “All right, what’s that?”
“The traditional draped dress. It would look beautiful on you.”
“Not my typical style though, draped clothes.”
“No. Not at all.” Today she was in a full white skirt that went down past her knees and a red button-up top. All very crisp and tailored.
“It makes for an intriguing thought.”
“Yes, but you don’t like my clothes.”
“No, I like your clothes very much, it’s just that I find them a distraction. And now that I have permission to be distracted … well, I like them even more.”
Her cheeks heated. He made her feel … he made her feel so new. Like this was fresh. Flirting, and eating together. The anticipation of sex. And she was anticipating it. Big-time. She smiled and looked down at her plate.
She ignored the little hint of fear that pooled in her stomach. If she felt so close to him now, what would happen after? She really hadn’t ever been a fling girl. She’d been one and done. She’d met her husband right out of high school, and he was the man she’d married.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He reached over and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up. “What?”
It was hard meeting his eyes. Intimate, suddenly. “I’m happy. I haven’t … enjoyed anything like this in a long time.”
“I haven’t, either.”
“Stavros, why is this marriage so important to you?” She wasn’t sure where the question came from, only that it seemed essential, suddenly. “I mean, I know why you need to do it eventually. But it’s more than that, I can tell. I just … want to know why.”
He frowned. “I’m the only one, Jessica.”
“I know.”
“When
