Bound to the Greek (15 page)

‘I’ll have my cook prepare something. You can freshen up and change if you like. The luggage is right behind us.’

Jace drove the Jeep around another curve and the villa came into view: a huge, sprawling whitewashed structure, every window and doorframe spilling a riot of bougainvillea, lights glimmering from inside. Jace killed the engine on the Jeep and turned to Eleanor.

‘Welcome.’

A smiling, red-cheeked woman with her hair caught up in a headscarf met them on the doorstep.

She spoke rapidly in Greek, and Jace nodded and smiled his approval. Then, in halting English, she spoke to Eleanor. ‘Welcome, Miss Langley. We are happy to see you here.’

‘Thank you,’ Eleanor murmured. Jace touched her shoulder.

‘This is Agathe. She takes care of just about everything for me.’ He smiled again at Agathe and then Eleanor followed her upstairs.

Agathe led her to a spacious suite of rooms overlooking the gardens at the back of the villa, bathed in moonlight; Eleanor could only make out the twisted trunks of olive trees and the glint of the sea at their edge.

Her luggage arrived moments later, and she took the opportunity to change her clothes and wash her face. Even though it was now nearing midnight, she felt energised and awake and alive.

Agathe had gone to see to their dinner preparations, and, dressed in a pair of cotton capris and a loose, flowing top in
pale green, Eleanor stepped out to explore the villa… and to find Jace.

The air was dry and smelled faintly of lavender and thyme; through the open windows Eleanor could hear the gentle shooshing of the waves on the sand. She walked down the tiled hallway to the front stairs, her hand skimming the wrought-iron bannister. The foyer below was empty, and once downstairs she peeked into a large, comfortable-looking living room and a dining room with a table that looked to seat at least twenty. Both were dark and empty.

She wandered towards the back of the house, drawn by the light spilling from an open doorway and the tempting aroma of lemon and garlic.

She stepped into the kitchen to see Agathe busy at the stove, and, to her surprise, Jace setting the table in the alcove that overlooked the water. He’d changed as well, and showered if the damp hair curling at his nape were anything to go by. Eleanor swallowed. He looked wonderful.

Jace glanced up as she stood in the doorway, and smiled easily. ‘Come in! Agathe has made a feast, as always.’

Agathe protested even as she placed dish upon dish on the table. Eleanor took in the Greek salad bursting with plump tomatoes and cucumber, a thick wedge of feta cheese resting on top, and the freshly grilled souvlaki, still on its skewer. There was a lentil soup garnished with olives and crusty bread, and several traditional Greek dips to accompany it.

‘I can never eat all this,’ Eleanor produced, laughing a little.

‘You must try,’ Jace replied as he pulled out her chair. ‘After all, food is love.’

Love. Eleanor swallowed again. That was a word they’d never talked about, not ten years ago and certainly not now. Oh, she’d thought it plenty of times; she’d certainly believed it before Jace had walked away. Yet now just the idea of love—the mere mention of it?made her palms slick and nerves flutter from her belly to her throat.

‘Thank you for this, Agathe.’

Agathe made more protesting noises before discreetly disappearing into another room. A candle flickered on the table between them, and the room was silent save for the sound of the sea coming from the open window.

‘This is lovely,’ Eleanor said. ‘Thank you.’

Jace gave a little shrug. ‘I’m afraid I’m spoiled by Agathe. She was my childhood nurse growing up, and I employed her here when she had no more charges at my family home.’

‘She loves you very much.’ The words popped out inadvertently, even though Eleanor didn’t want to mention that dreaded L-word. Jace just smiled and spooned some tzatziki onto her plate.

‘She is a good woman.’

Eleanor took a spoonful of the hearty bean soup; it was delicious. ‘So do you live here most of the year?’

‘When I can. I have a flat in Athens for business, but this is really my home. Or at least my escape. I’ve had to travel so much for work, I don’t know if I could call any place my home.’

‘Those corporate takeovers,’ Eleanor murmured. She took another sip of soup. ‘What’s the real story behind you taking over Atrikides Holdings?’

Jace looked up, surprised. ‘The real story?’

‘I don’t think it was the heartless takeover you made it out to be.’

‘I try not to have any takeover be heartless.’

Eleanor raised her eyebrows. ‘I had no idea you were so sensitive.’

Jace only looked amused. ‘Sensitive? No. It’s simply good business. Unhappy workers are never very productive.’ He gave her the glimmer of a smile. ‘I don’t like to lose money.’

‘Ah.’ She reached for a piece of bread. ‘And Atrikides?’

Jace shrugged. ‘It was a favour to Leandro. His son was embezzling from him and he didn’t have the strength to deal with it himself. He’s an old man, and he doesn’t have much longer to live.’

‘So it was a mercy mission.’

Jace just shrugged again, and Eleanor glanced down at her plate. ‘There’s so much I don’t know about you.’

A tiny, telling hesitation. ‘Then ask.’

She didn’t know what questions to ask. Where to begin. She didn’t even know enough for that. ‘Were you always interested in finance?’ she finally asked. ‘Starting your own company?’

‘Yes,’ Jace answered, then added, ‘but it became more important to me.’

‘When?’

He paused. ‘Ten years ago.’

Eleanor nodded slowly in acceptance. Ten years ago. Of course. The same time her work had become more important to her; it had filled the empty spaces in her heart, her womb. Jace, in his own way, had suffered a similar loss.

‘Well,’ Jace said when she didn’t reply, ‘if you won’t ask questions, I will. What made you decide to become an event planner?’

‘I needed to do something, and my mother suggested the internship. Premier Planning was her company before she retired.’

‘So you’re the boss’s daughter?’

Eleanor shrugged. ‘She certainly didn’t give me any handouts. I had to apply for the internship like anyone else, and work my way up.’

‘And what about your degree in restaurant management?’

Eleanor gave him a small smile even though his question—his ignorance—hurt. ‘I never finished my degree.’

‘You didn’t? Why not?’

She shook her head, exasperated now. Jet lag must have caught up with her, for she suddenly felt unbearably weary. ‘I was pregnant, and I intended to keep the baby. I dropped out.’

Jace looked startled, a streak of something like pain flashing in his eyes, and Eleanor knew he was realising how
much he didn’t know. Didn’t understand. Just as she felt with him. They really did need to begin all over again?if they could.

‘But after?’ he persisted after a moment. ‘Couldn’t you have gone back?’

‘I didn’t want to,’ Eleanor said flatly. ‘Everything had changed.’ She didn’t want to talk about it with Jace, even though at least part of her acknowledged they would have to talk about it some time… if they wanted to have any hope of—anything?in the future. ‘My turn for questions,’ she said. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’

Jace looked startled again, but then his face relaxed in an easy smile and Eleanor knew he was as glad as she was for a safer topic of conversation. ‘Purple.’

‘No way.’

He arched an eyebrow. ‘What? Not manly enough?’

Eleanor let out a reluctant laugh. ‘There’s no way purple is your favourite colour. I may not know you that well, but I know that.’

He sighed in mock defeat. ‘All right, you win. It’s blue.’

‘Light blue or dark blue?’

‘Dark. And you?’

‘Orange.’

‘Really?’

Eleanor smiled. ‘Yes, but I picked it as my favourite colour in first grade because no one else liked it. I guess I wanted to be different.’

‘You always were stubborn.’

‘Determined, I call it.’ Sometimes it had been the only thing that had kept her going. Another wave of fatigue crashed over her and she pushed her plate away. ‘This was delicious, but I think the flight is finally catching up with me. I’m about to fall asleep in my chair.’

‘Then we’d better get you to bed.’

His words, given with such lazy amusement, made awareness race through Eleanor’s veins so she suddenly felt rather
unbearably awake. She stood up awkwardly. ‘Thank you for the meal—’

‘Let me show you to your room.’

‘I remember?’

‘I’m a gentleman.’

Wordlessly Eleanor let him lead her from the kitchen. Her heart had begun thudding hard against her chest, and she wondered what might happen. What she wanted to happen.

Upstairs the hallway was dark, lit only by a wash of moonlight from the windows at its end. Jace led her to her door and she placed her hand on its knob, turning around so her back was pressed against the wood. ‘Thank you.’ The word ended in a whisper of breath for Jace was close. Very close. And she had a feeling he was going to kiss her.

She wanted him to kiss her.

He smiled at her and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear so his thumb skimmed her cheek. Eleanor closed her eyes. The moment before his lips brushed hers seemed endless, agonising, because she wasn’t sure he was even going to do it and she didn’t want to open her eyes to find out.

Finally,
finally
his lips touched hers in a feather-light kiss that seemed to be more of a promise than a possession, because before Eleanor could part her lips or respond in any way—it was so sweet?he had stepped away.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him. He gazed back at her with a rueful, almost sad smile. ‘Goodnight, Eleanor.’

Before she could respond?or even think?he was already disappearing down the hallway, lost in the shadows.

Jace strode out of the villa, frustration and fury and even fear all warring within him. What had he done? And why had he done it?

He made his way down the track to the beach, awash in silver in the moonlight. A few metres away the waves crashed blackly onto the shore. Jace yanked his shirt over his head
and kicked his trousers off and then, with one deep breath, he dived into the surf.

The water was cold—it was still early spring?and it made his head ache as he swam through the waves, breaking to the surface only when his lungs hurt and his head pounded.

He treaded water as he gazed up at the ink-black sky scattered with stars and wondered just why he’d brought Eleanor to Greece.

It had seemed like such a good idea when he’d spoken to Alecia. It had made sense when he’d flown to New York on the pretence of needing to visit Atrikides Holdings, which was managing just fine under Leandro’s nephew. He’d justified it to himself because he’d needed to see her, because his body was hungry and his soul restless knowing she was there, knowing she’d never lied to him, thinking that maybe there could have been something between them all these years. Maybe there still could be.

Yet what he hadn’t counted on was how risky it was. Eleanor wasn’t interested in an emotionless affair. He’d
known
that, and yet he’d still brought her here as if they could have something else. Something more. As if he wanted that, which, God help him, maybe he did.

Even though he’d determined for ten years?and longer than that,
for ever
?never to lose his heart to anyone. Never to even have a heart to lose.

Jace cursed out loud, to the sky, the words lost in the rush of the waves. His body ached with fatigue and cold and, after another second of useless treading water?going nowhere? he headed back towards the shore.

Everything had changed when he’d kissed Eleanor?such a nothing little kiss, barely a brush of their lips. Yet in that fragile moment he’d realised just what he’d done by bringing Eleanor here. Not only had he opened himself up to possible pain and loss, but he’d exposed Eleanor to it as well. He could hurt her. Again.

Back on the beach Jace towelled himself off with his shirt and then sat on the cold, hard sand to dry off. He wasn’t ready
to go back into the villa, to a lonely bed just two doors from where Eleanor slept. Or maybe she wasn’t sleeping. Maybe she was tossing restlessly just as he surely would, letting the memories wash over her like the surf over the sand.

The first time they’d kissed. He’d been determined to kiss her, and she’d been skittish and nervous, flitting around her apartment, plying him with cupcakes. He’d eaten them, laughing as he did so, because they’d both known what was better than any dessert. That first kiss had been so, so sweet; it had been innocence and longing entangled together.

The first time they’d made love, one Saturday afternoon, the room mellow with sunlight. He’d traced circles on her skin with his fingers and lips and she’d laughed and told him she was ticklish.

Ticklish! He’d been a little offended, because he’d been so breathless and aching with desire, and he’d set upon a course of making her want him as much as he wanted her.

He’d succeeded admirably.

But it hadn’t been just sex. She’d opened up such a life to him, a sweet, simple life, and he’d let himself fall, had willingly entered into the dream she shared of a bakery and bookshop, let it all wash over him and pull him into a fantasy world that he’d never thought to inhabit because it was all so far from his life, from his father. With Eleanor he hadn’t been a useless failure. He hadn’t had his shortcomings tossed back at him again and again.

With Eleanor he’d just been himself. And yet he’d still run. Jace shook his head, the memories both hurting and humiliating him.

Even if you knew the baby was yours, Jace, would you have stayed?

The question, and the fact that Eleanor could ask it, damned him. And even now Jace was shamed by her lack of trust in him. Yet why should she trust him? He hadn’t proved himself or his trustworthiness in any way. He’d only failed.

And he was afraid of failing again?failing Eleanor,
failing himself—by opening this Pandora’s box of possibility between them.