Santorini Sunsets (9 page)

She opened the wooden gate and saw a familiar figure sitting on the stone step. He wore navy shorts and a yellow T-shirt and his blond hair was damp with sweat.

“What are you doing here?” Brigit asked.

“I went on a hike and suddenly had a craving for poached eggs and whole wheat toast and grilled tomatoes,” Nathaniel replied.

“You're in Greece.” Brigit smoothed her skirt. “Every café in Fira serves eggs for breakfast.”

“They're more expensive than the Mansion Restaurant on York Avenue,” Nathaniel grumbled. “Our bed-and-breakfast was supposed to serve a continental breakfast, but it's a single serving of Froot Loops and a carton of cranberry juice. You know how irritable I get if I don't eat a good breakfast.”

“You can't come in.” Brigit glanced at the french doors. “Blake will be down soon and he's not meeting my ex-husband over eggs and Santorini cherry tomatoes.”

“Isn't it bad luck for Blake to spend the night?” Nathaniel asked. “You wouldn't let me see you before the wedding. I snuck into your room at Summerhill and you almost kicked me out.”

“I don't believe in superstitions anymore,” Brigit bristled. “I have to go, we're having a picnic on Kamari Beach.”

“I'm glad you're having sex. God knows, failure is terrible for the libido. Mr. and Mrs. Glassman in 4A were getting it more than we were,” Nathaniel replied. “What's Blake like in bed? I read he's very athletic.”

“That's none of your business.” Brigit flushed.

“I was just curious how it feels to have someone new leave his hairbrush on the sink and his copy of the
New Yorker
next to the bathtub.” He fiddled with his backpack.

“Blake doesn't read the
New Yorker
, and he'd never leave anything on the sink. I'm finally living with a grown-up instead of a child who thinks the nanny is going to make his bed.” Brigit looked at Nathaniel. “I'm sure you know what it's like to share your bed with someone new. Just because you can't afford Kobe steaks, I can't imagine you took a vow of chastity.”

“Maybe someone to get sweaty with after a few dry martinis at the pub.” Nathaniel shrugged. “But no one to wake up with and talk about civil rights and the protests in Baltimore.”

“My father asked me to attend a charity ball at the St. Regis and I was seated beside Blake by accident.” Brigit adjusted her sunglasses. “I could tell right away he was different from the bankers and stockbrokers I'd met in New York. He drove his own car and walked me to my door to say good night. You'd be surprised how many men stay in their Town Car and wait until I'm in the foyer.”

“It's not hard to drive a car,” Nathaniel said. “Do you remember I took my father's vintage Ford and drove you and Daisy to Montauk? From the way you two were shrieking, you would have thought you were being kidnapped.”

“You were fourteen,” Brigit exclaimed. “I was terrified of getting arrested.”

“We parked at the beach and went swimming.” Nathaniel plucked a blade of grass. “I hadn't seen you in a bathing suit since the previous summer. You stripped down to your bikini and I suddenly felt dizzy.”

Brigit looked at Nathaniel sharply. She patted her hair and climbed the stairs.

“I have to go.” She opened the french doors.

“Did you say you sat next to Blake by accident?” Nathaniel asked. “That's funny because I ran into your father at Claridge's last summer. I don't know if he mentioned that we met. I was interviewing Gavin Rossdale and Francis was eating a duck egg and asparagus sandwich in the Reading Room. I sat down and said I owed him and Sydney an apology.” He paused and looked at Brigit. “I promised him I'd take care of his little girl for the rest of my life and I let him down. I was terribly sorry and hoped he and Sydney would forgive me.”

“Oh.” Brigit suddenly thought the sun was too bright. “He never told me that he saw you.”

“It was very awkward. If we weren't sitting in one of the most exclusive bars in London he might have punched me in the jaw. I felt badly and asked how you were and he said you were pretty low but he'd found you the perfect guy.” Nathaniel paused. “His name was Blake Crawford and he was an actor.”

“That's impossible,” Brigit frowned. “Blake would have told me.”

“It doesn't matter, look how well everything turned out.” Nathaniel shrugged. “You're madly in love and marrying Hollywood's most eligible bachelor.”

“Blake isn't anything like other movie stars.” Brigit smoothed her skirt. “He's hardworking and generous and I've never been happier.”

“I'm going to find Robbie and borrow some euros for a feta cheese omelet.” Nathaniel stood up. “His father is a British lord with a large mansion in Sussex. It's easy to traipse around the globe with a camera and a rucksack if you can go home to baked pheasant and preheated towels.”

“Your parents gave you everything,” Brigit murmured.

“You mean a Dartmouth degree and a convertible and membership to the University Club?” Nathaniel said. “None of that means anything.”

“What do you mean?” Brigit asked.

“The people who love you have to believe in you.” Nathaniel's eyes were bright. “The rest you can accomplish yourself.”

Nathaniel opened the gate and turned around. “I'll see you at the picnic. Don't forget to wear sunscreen or you'll get more freckles on your nose.”

“You're coming to the picnic?” Brigit asked.

“It's on Winston's itinerary.” Nathaniel fished a piece of paper out of his pocket and smiled. “I can't wait to meet the groom.”

*   *   *

Brigit stood at the enamel sink and her heart raced. Blake and her father couldn't have known each other; one of them would have mentioned it.

She flashed on the time Blake was stopped by reporters at the Hotel Grande Bretagne in Athens. He'd said the luckiest night of his life was when he was seated next to Brigit at the Save the Children foundation gala.

She nibbled a purple grape and thought perhaps Nathaniel was lying. He didn't want Brigit and Blake to be happy and was stirring up trouble. But she sat on the wooden chair and sighed. Nathaniel was stubborn and messy but he had always been brutally honest.

She heard footsteps and saw Blake standing in the doorway. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and tan shorts and leather sandals.

“You slipped out before I woke up.” He kissed her on the mouth. “I was going to bring you a tray of yogurt with fruit and thyme honey. I thought we could spend the morning in bed, rehearsing for the wedding.”

“I know my vows,” Brigit replied. “I memorized them on the flight.”

Blake tucked her hair behind her ear. “I was talking about the wedding night.”

“You were the one who wanted to stay in separate villas.” Brigit giggled.

“It seemed like a good idea while I was in California and you were in New York, but now I want to be with you every minute.” Blake sliced a peach. “I met a shopkeeper whose friend runs an orphanage in Thera. Did you know those children have never owned a computer?

“I thought we could send them a shipment of Macs. Can you imagine their faces when they press the power button and see videos of jungles in Africa or ice fjords in Finland?”

Brigit bit her lip. She wanted to tell him what Nathaniel had said but mentioning Nathaniel's name was like bringing in an unwelcome guest. There would be plenty of time to talk about Nathaniel when Blake and Nathaniel met.

She ate another grape and thought there had to be a way to ask if Blake had met her father before the charity gala. She opened her mouth but Blake glanced at his watch.

“God, I forgot.” He took her hand. “We have an appointment in Marina Vlihada.”

“But we're hosting the picnic at noon,” Brigit protested. “I need to shower and change.”

“You'd look beautiful in my white Hanes T-shirts and boxers.” Blake grabbed a ripe pear. “It's a surprise, I can't wait to show it to you.”

*   *   *

Brigit sat on the donkey and gazed at the wide stretch of the caldera. The sun was bright and she could see the volcanic islands of Palea Kameni and Nea Kameni. She studied the sailboats far below and thought she had never seen so many colors. It was as if the whole world had been rinsed in blue and orange and yellow.

They strolled quickly to the square and were greeted by an old man leading two donkeys. Brigit hoisted herself into the saddle and clutched the leather strap. She thought of the glossy ponies she and Daisy used to ride in Central Park and giggled.

She remembered what Nathaniel had said and flinched. Maybe he had gotten the conversation with her father wrong; it was some silly misunderstanding. It was her fault for talking to Nathaniel. She should have told him to eat fried eggs with Kasseri cheese in Fira and she would see him later. Now instead of enjoying the breathtaking view she felt as if there was an insect buzzing around her head.

She gripped the donkey tighter and inhaled the scent of bougainvillea and hibiscus. She wasn't going to think about Nathaniel, she was going to enjoy being on one of the most glorious islands in the world with the man she loved.

“Isn't it spectacular?” Blake hopped off the donkey. “From Marina Vlihada you can take a private cruise to the coast of Perivolos and the Red and White Beaches. We can snorkel on the island of Aspronisi and go fishing in Therasia.”

“We don't have time to take a cruise.” Brigit glanced at the white sailboats lining the dock. “We have twenty people including a U.S. Supreme Court judge and an Academy Award–winning screenwriter coming to eat lamb souvlaki and spinach spanakopita.”

“Come on.” Blake lifted her off the donkey. “This will only take a minute.”

Brigit followed him along the dock to a blue catamaran. It had a marble bar and creamy leather upholstery. The steering wheel was smooth walnut and there was an ivory chessboard.

“It's gorgeous.” Brigit glanced at the blue-and-gold interlocking
B
's on the side of the boat and suddenly her heart raced. “Who does it belong to?”

“I wondered why we were in such a hurry to leave on our honeymoon when we're getting married on a Greek island.” Blake took her hand and stepped onto the deck. “We can spend a few days sailing to the islands of Sikinos and Anafi. We'll go swimming in Manganari Bay and eat grilled swordfish in Irakleia. At night the whole island is lit up and you can see the tiny village of Imerovigli and the ruins at Firostefani.

“I've lived in Los Angeles for fifteen years and never been on a boat except for a movie premiere on the
Queen Mary
that never left the port.” Blake leaned over the railing. “I stood on the deck eating cracked lobster and thought they may as well have held the reception in the ballroom of the Beverly Wilshire. Now we can spend the weekend on Catalina or get ice cream on Balboa Island.”

“You bought the catamaran?” Brigit whispered.

“It's your wedding present.” Blake grinned, leading her down carpeted stairs. “It comes with a personal chef. We can catch salmon and have it for dinner with fresh vegetables and a summer salad.”

Brigit remembered when she was a child and her father bought a wooden sailboat. She pictured Daisy in a striped sailor dress and her mother in white capris and leather loafers. She remembered thinking why would anyone want to grow up, when life was about sailing on the sound and eating corn on the cob and slices of watermelon.

She glanced at Blake's smooth dark hair and green eyes and her heart lifted. She had been wrong; it was wonderful to grow up. She was going to have a handsome, caring husband and her own family.

Blake showed her the salon with polished wood floors and cream walls lined with abstract paintings. The bathroom had a gold-tiled shower and the library was crammed with paperback books by Mark Twain and Hemingway.

She entered a round room with an orange wool rug and turquoise walls. A king-sized bed was covered by a white lace bedspread and littered with pink and yellow pillows. There were ceramic vases and bunches of purple peonies and pink anemones.

“I had it decorated in the colors of Santorini.” He unfastened the clip in her hair. “Whether we're sailing in Tahiti or just tied up in Marina del Rey, we will always remember the green cliffs and clear blue water of Santorini.”

Brigit inhaled his scent of citrus shampoo and musk cologne and kissed him softly on the lips. She glanced at the cabin door and hesitated.

“What if someone shows up?”

“I told the captain to go sightseeing at the ruins of Akrotiri.” He closed the door. “He took a donkey, he won't return for hours.”

Brigit unzipped her capris and slipped off her sandals. She unbuttoned Blake's shirt and drew him onto the bed. She felt his mouth on her breasts and gasped. She guided his head between her legs and felt the stirring deep inside her. She pressed herself against him until the waves came and she was almost dizzy. She arched her hips and thought nothing had ever felt so exquisite.

Blake pulled her arms over her head and nuzzled her neck. He opened her legs and slipped inside her. She wrapped her arms around his back and urged him to go faster. She felt his slick chest on her breasts and his thighs between her legs until they came together in one shattering thrust.

“I love you,” he whispered, tucking her against his chest. “I'm the luckiest guy in the world.”

“I love you too,” she murmured, her body still pulsing.

She felt his steady heartbeat and let out her breath. She would ask Blake about her father when he woke up and sort it all out. She gazed at the round white portholes and paneled ceiling and was certain Nathaniel was wrong. It was just like him, to spoil all her fun.

 

Chapter Six

D
AISY GLANCED AT
her yellow halter top and long gauze skirt and flat gold sandals. It was early afternoon and the sun was high in the sky. She touched her hair that was knotted into a loose ponytail and fiddled with her coral necklace. She gazed at the women wearing crepe dresses and men in linen shirts and silk shorts and sighed.