Playing by the Greek's Rules (8 page)

‘Fragments of plaster, conical cups—' Brittany frowned. ‘We found a bronze leg that probably belongs to that figurine that was discovered last week. Are you listening to me?'

Lily was deep in an action replay of the moment Nik had removed the mask from her eyes. ‘That's exciting! I'm going to join you later.'

‘We're removing part of the stone mound and exploring the North Eastern wall.' Brittany eyed her. ‘You might want to rethink white silk. So am I going to hear the details?'

‘About what?'

‘Oh, please—'

‘It was fun. All right, incredible.' Lily felt her cheeks burn and Brittany gave a faint smile.

‘That good? Now I'm jealous. I haven't had incredible sex since—well, let's just say it's been a while. So are you seeing him again?'

‘Of course not. The definition of rebound sex is that it's just one night. No commitment.' She parroted the rules and tried not to wish it could have lasted a little more than one night. The truth was even in that one night Nik had made her feel special. ‘Do we have food in our fridge? I'm starving.'

‘He helped you expend all those calories and then didn't feed you before you left? That's not very gentlemanly.'

‘He didn't see me leave. He had to take a call.' And judging from the reluctance he'd shown when she'd handed him the phone, if it had been left to him he wouldn't have answered it.

Why not?

Why wouldn't a man want to talk to his father?

It had been immediately obvious that whatever issues Nik might have in expressing his emotions openly weren't shared by his father, who had been almost embarrassingly eager to share his pain.

She'd squirmed with discomfort as Kostas Zervakis had told her how long it was since his son had come home. Even on such a short acquaintance she knew that family was one of the subjects Nik didn't touch. She'd felt awkward listening, as if she were eavesdropping on a private conversation, but at the same time his father had seemed so upset she hadn't had the heart to cut him off.

The conversation had left her feeling ever so slightly sick, an emotion she knew was ridiculous given that she hadn't ever met Kostas and barely knew his son. Why should it bother her that there were clearly problems in their relationship?

Her natural instinct had been to intervene but she'd recognised instantly the danger in that. Nik wasn't a man who appreciated the interference of others in anything, least of all his personal life.

The black look he'd given her had been as much responsible for her rapid exit as her own lack of familiarity with the morning-after etiquette following rebound sex.

She'd taken advantage of his temporary absorption in the phone call to make a hasty escape, but not before she'd heard enough to make her wish for a happy ending. Whatever damage lay in their past, she wanted them to fix their problems.

She always wanted people to fix their problems.

Lily blinked rapidly, realising that Brittany was talking. ‘Sorry?'

‘So he doesn't know you left?'

‘He knows by now.'

‘He won't be pleased that you didn't say goodbye.'

‘He'll be delighted. He doesn't want emotional engagement. No awkward conversations. He will be relieved to be spared a potentially awkward conversation. We move in different circles so I probably won't ever see him again.' And that shouldn't bother her, should it? Although a one-night stand was new to her, she was the expert at transitory relationships. Her entire life had been a series of transitory relationships. No one had ever stuck in her life. She felt like an abandoned railway station where trains passed through but never stopped.

Brittany glanced out of the window at the street below and raised her eyebrows. ‘I think you're going to see him again a whole lot sooner than you think.'

‘What makes you say that?'

‘Because he's just pulled up outside our apartment.'

Lily's heart felt as if it were trying to escape from her chest. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Well there's a Ferrari parked outside that costs more than I'm going to earn in a lifetime, so, unless there is someone else living in this building that has attracted his attention, he clearly has things he wants to say to you.'

‘Oh
no
.' Lily shrank against the door of the bedroom. ‘Can you see his face? Does he look angry?'

‘What reason would he have to be angry?' Brittany glanced out of the window again and then back at Lily. ‘Is this about the shirt? He can afford to lose one shirt, surely?'

‘I don't think he's here because of the shirt,' Lily said weakly. ‘I think he's here because of something I did this morning. I'm going to hide on the balcony and you're going to tell him you haven't seen me.'

Brittany looked at her curiously. ‘What did you do?'

Lily flinched as she heard a loud hammering on the door. ‘Remember—you haven't seen me.' She fled into the bedroom they shared and closed the door.

What was he doing here?

She'd seen the flash of anger in his eyes when he'd realised it was
his
phone she'd answered, but surely he wouldn't care enough to follow her home?

She heard his voice in the doorway and heard Brittany say, ‘Sure, come right on in, Nik—is it all right if I call you Nik?—she's in the bedroom, hiding.' The door opened a moment later and Brittany stood there, arms folded, her eyes alive with laughter.

Lily impaled her with a look of helpless fury. ‘You're a traitor.'

‘I'm a friend and I am doing you a favour,' Brittany murmured. ‘The man is seriously
hot.
' Having delivered that assessment, she stepped to one side with a bright smile. ‘Go ahead. The space is a little tight, but I guess you folks don't mind that.'

‘No! Brittany, don't—er—hi...' Lily gave a weak smile as Nik strolled into the room. His powerful frame virtually filled the cramped space and she wished she'd picked a different room as a refuge. Being in a bedroom reminded her too much of the night before. ‘If you're mad about the shirt, then give me two minutes to change. I shouldn't have taken it, but I didn't want to do the walk of shame through the middle of Chania wearing an evening dress that doesn't belong to me.'

‘I don't care about the shirt.' His hair was glossy dark, his eyes dark in a face so handsome it would have made a Greek god weep with envy. ‘Do you seriously think I'm here because of the shirt?'

‘No. I assume you're mad because I answered your phone, but I saw that it was your father and thought you wouldn't want to miss his call. If I had a dad I'd be ringing him every day.'

His face revealed not a flicker of emotion. ‘We don't have that sort of relationship.'

‘Well I know that
now,
but I didn't know when I answered the phone and once he started talking he was so upset I didn't want to hang up. He needed to talk to someone and I was in the right place at the right time.'

‘You think so?' His voice was silky soft. ‘Because I would have said you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.'

‘Depends how you look at it. Did you manage to clear the air?' She risked a glance at the hard lines of his face and winced. ‘I'm guessing the answer to that is no. If I made it worse by handing you the phone, I'm sorry.'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you?'

She opened her mouth and closed it again. ‘No, not really. Family is the most important thing in the world. I don't understand how anyone could not want to try and heal a rift. But I could see you were very angry that I'd answered the call and of course your relationship with your father is none of my business.' But she wanted to make it her business so badly she virtually had to sit on her hands to stop herself from interfering.

‘For someone who realises it's none of her business, you seem to be showing an extraordinary depth of interest.'

‘I feel strongly about protecting the family unit. It's my hot button.'

His searing glance reminded her he was intimately familiar with all her hot buttons. ‘Why did you walk out this morning?'

The blatant reminder of the night before brought the colour rushing to her cheeks.

‘I thought the first rule of rebound sex was that you rebound right out of the door the next morning. I have no experience of morning-after conversation and frankly the thought of facing you over breakfast after all the things we did last night didn't totally thrill me. And can you honestly tell me you weren't standing in that shower working out how you were going to eject me?' The expression on his face told her she was right and she nodded. ‘Exactly. I thought I'd spare us both a major awkward moment and leave. I grabbed a shirt and was halfway out of the door when your father rang.'

‘It didn't occur to you to ignore the phone?'

‘I thought it might be important. And it was! He was
so
upset. He told me he'd already left a ton of messages.' Concern overwhelmed her efforts not to become involved. ‘Why haven't you been home for the past few years?'

‘A night in my bed doesn't qualify you to ask those questions.' The look in his eyes made her confidence falter.

‘I get the message. Nothing personal. Now back off. Last night you were charming and fun and flirty. This morning you're scary and intimidating.'

He inhaled deeply. ‘I apologise,' he breathed. ‘It was not my intention to come across as scary or intimidating, but you should
not
have answered the phone.'

‘What's done is done. And I was glad to be a listening ear for someone in pain.'

‘My father is not in pain.'

‘Yes, he is. He misses you. This rift between you is causing him agony. He wants you to go to his wedding. It's breaking his heart that you won't go.'

‘Lily—'

‘You're going to tell me it's none of my business and you're right, it isn't, but I don't have a family at all. I don't even have the broken pieces of a family, and you have no idea how much I wish I did. So you'll have to forgive me if I have a tendency to try and glue back together everyone else's chipped fragments. It's the archaeologist in me.'

‘Lily—'

‘Just because you don't believe in love, doesn't mean you have to inflict that view on others and judge them for their decisions. Your father is happy and you're spoiling it. He loves you and he wants you there. Whatever you are feeling, you should bury it and go and celebrate. You should raise a glass and dance at his wedding. You should show him you love him no matter what, and if this marriage goes wrong then you'll be there to support him.' She stopped, breathless, and waited to be frozen by the icy wind of his disapproval but he surprised her yet again by nodding.

‘I agree.'

‘You do?'

‘Yes. I've been trying to tell you that but you wouldn't stop talking.' He spoke through clenched teeth. ‘I am convinced that I should go to the wedding, which is why I'm here.'

‘What does the wedding have to do with me?'

‘I want you to come with me.'

Lily gaped at him. ‘Me? Why?'

He ran his hand over the back of his neck. ‘I am willing to be present if that is truly what my father wants, but I don't have enough faith in my acting skills to believe I will be able to convince anyone that I'm pleased to be there. No matter how much he tells me Diandra is “the one”, I cannot see how this match will have a happy ending. You, however, seem to see happy endings where none exist. I'm hoping that by taking you, people will be blinded in the dazzling beam of your sunny optimism and won't notice the dark thundercloud hovering close by threatening to rain on the proceedings.'

The analogy made her smile. ‘You're the dark thundercloud in that scenario?'

His eyes gleamed. ‘You need to ask?'

‘You really believe this marriage is doomed? How can you say that when you haven't even met Diandra?'

‘When it comes to women, my father has poor judgement. He follows his heart and his heart has no sense of direction. Frankly I can't believe he has chosen to get married again after three failed attempts. I think it's insane.'

‘I think it's lovely.'

‘Which is why you're coming as my guest.' He reached out and lifted a small blue plate from her shelf, tipping off the earrings that were stored there. ‘This is stylish. Where did you buy it?'

‘I didn't buy it, I made it. And I haven't agreed to come with you yet.'

‘You
made
this?'

‘It's a hobby of mine. There is a kiln at work and sometimes I use it. The father of one of the curators at the museum is a potter and he's helped me. It's interesting comparing old and new techniques.'

He turned it in his hands, examining it closely. ‘You could sell this.'

‘I don't want to sell it. I use it to store my earrings.'

‘Have you ever considered having an exhibition?'

‘Er—no.' She gave an astonished laugh. ‘I've made about eight pieces I didn't throw away. They're all exhibited around the apartment. We use one as a soap dish.'

‘You've never wanted to do this for a living?'

‘What I want to do and what I can afford to do aren't the same thing. It isn't financially viable.' She didn't even allow her mind to go there. ‘And where would our soap live? Let's talk about the wedding. A wedding is a big deal. It's intimate and special, an occasion to be shared with friends and loved ones. You don't even know me.' The moment the words left her mouth she realised how ridiculous that statement was given the night they'd spent. ‘I mean obviously there are
some
things about me you know very well, but other things like my favourite flower and my favourite colour, you don't know.'

Still holding her plate, he studied her with an unsettling intensity. ‘I know all I need to know, which is that you like weddings almost as much as I hate them. Did you study art?'