Adonis in Athens - Page 17

“Lord Byron—the British poet?—supposedly carved his name somewhere. I hoped to get a picture but we can’t get close enough.”

Apollo frowned. “I didn’t know that.” He looked around, wondering if they could sneak past the barriers, but it was strictly prohibited and despite their jokes about going to jail, he knew they could receive a hefty fine if they were caught.

“It’s okay.” She nudged him, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. “I have much more exciting plans than spending the night in jail!”

“Yeah?” He looked down at her in amusement. “Like what?”

“Didn’t you say something about biftekia or whatever?”

He laughed. “Tomorrow. Tonight I was thinking we could order in…relax a little.”

“Okay.”

They settled on a rock, where he positioned her in front of him between his legs, so they could stare out at the most glorious sunset she’d ever seen. His arms closed around her waist and they were quiet, enjoying the intimacy of their togetherness and the magic of the brilliant colors in the sky. It was a kaleidoscope of orange, yellow and red, adding a surreal glow to the building and the entire area around it. Paige leaned back, lost in the real-life fairy tale she was suddenly caught up in. She’d been almost positive that once she saw him again, and spent time with him, she’d realize how silly her fantasies had been. Instead, reality was so much better than what she remembered and she didn’t want this to end. The idea of extending her vacation so she could stay with him was ludicrous, but if she could manage it with work, she was going to. She didn’t care that she barely knew him; she needed to be with him for this short time like she needed to breathe. This was her adventure. The adventure. Possibly the only one she would ever need.

When traces of the sun were almost gone, they headed back to his car and for the first time she realized it was a Porsche. She wanted to tell him how gorgeous it was, but for some reason it seemed irrelevant. The only things on her mind were figuring out how to get an extra week or two of vacation and trying to keep her heart intact while still enjoying every minute she could with him.

“We should stop by your hotel and get your things,” he said as they headed back towards Athens.

“I think…” she paused, trying to articulate what she wanted to say. “I think I should stay at my hotel tonight.”

“Why? So you can second-guess yourself and get on the first flight out in the morning?” He cut his eyes to her and she could see he was kidding. Mostly.

“No.” She reached out to slide her hand into his. “You have early meetings and you probably need to rest. I’m still a little off with jet lag, and I need to sleep too. It would also give us a little time to digest—not run away!” She laughed at his snort. “We talked about all these emotions and three-year-old feelings…let’s get a good night’s sleep so we can just mull it all over. We’re talking about spending an extended amount of time together pretending to be married.”

“Not pretending,” he said evenly. “We are married.”

“You know what I mean—we’re not married in the true sense of the word.”

“We’re married in the legal and emotional senses of the word,” he said. “We just never had the chance to get to know each other, which is what I suggested we do.”

“Tomorrow you’re going to walk into your office and be bombarded with questions. Your family is going to call, demanding to know where you were today, and you’re going to have to decide what to tell them. I want you to know that if you change your mind—about having me stay, telling them the truth, any of it—I understand. I didn’t come here to disrupt your life and it feels like that’s what I’m doing.”

“What it feels like,” he corrected mildly, “is you trying to backpedal. I want you to stay with me, but I don’t want to force you. If you’re nervous or uncomfortable, I’ll sign the papers and let you go home. This adventure only works if we both want it.”

“I want it,” she whispered. “Just not tonight. I need one night to think about everything that happened today so I can see you again tomorrow with a clear head. The first time, we screwed everything up because we were frantic to do it all… So much passion, sex, alcohol—total chaos that had you rushing off to make your flight. Let’s not mess it up this time. If I can get some extra vacation, we’ll have a couple of weeks to do all that. We don’t have to do it all today. And I’m really, really sleepy.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “That makes sense, koukla.”

She closed her eyes, reclining against the soft leather, grateful he was still holding her hand and that he’d understood she needed just a little space to gather her thoughts.

He turned on the radio, wondering what was going on in her head and if she really just needed some time to adjust to the idea of them spending a few weeks together. She was a little skittish, but he couldn’t blame her. A young woman in a foreign country by herself, suddenly immersed in an experimental relationship with a man she was married to but didn’t really know. It was a little overwhelming for him too, and this was his home, where he had backup if anything went wrong. Not that he would need help, but as a woman she probably felt vulnerable and he understood that. He would give her tonight, but part of him worried that she would run and not give him a chance to prove that he cared for her. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but there had been something magical between them the first time their eyes locked. He’d wanted her physically, but there was a mischief in her eyes that attracted him beyond the bedroom. As soon as they’d started talking he’d known she was different. Sweet and a little bit innocent, but with an incredible sense of fun and a desire to explore the world, he’d convinced her to zip-line over Fremont Street, ride an electric bull and…marry him.

Though he hadn’t admitted it to her, he hadn’t known if what they’d done was legal, but he’d been positive that they’d done it. He’d fallen hard and fast for the hazel-eyed beauty and he’d spent two days wondering how to get her to go home to Greece with him. The panic in her eyes the next morning, though, had given him second thoughts. She’d been terrified, worried about what she would tell her parents, how she would finish school…so many things he hadn’t even considered when he’d teased her into going into that chapel with him. Then the marriage certificate had disappeared and he’d begun to wonder if he’d imagined it—or if they’d gone into one of the many make-believe places in Las Vegas that gave people the experiences they wanted: a gondola ride in Venice, a walk through Parisian gardens, and so much more. So he’d gotten on his flight and figured she would call once she found out one way or another. Instead, that call never came and he’d resigned himself to living with his stupidity. He’d thought she was gone forever. Until she walked into his office this morning and turned his life upside down. He’d wanted her three years ago and he wanted her now, but this time he wouldn’t let her go without a fight.

She mumbled something under her breath and he turned. “What, honey?”

“Our song,” she murmured. “Turn it up.”

He frowned and turned up the radio to hear “Marry You” by Bruno Mars. As he listened, the memories came rushing back and he felt her squeeze his hand. He hadn’t allowed himself to listen to this song in three years; it had been too depressing. He could hear her humming along, even half-asleep, and he smiled, knowing that she still considered it their song. Although she didn’t know it, it was dancing to this song at a nightclub that had given him the idea of marrying her. Maybe now it would bring him luck again.

He woke up early, silencing the alarm on his phone quickly so it didn’t wake her. She stirred, though, moving against him like a lazy cat. A smile played on her lips and she nestled closer. “You were supposed to go home,” she murmured.

“We both fell asleep,” he chuckled. “Sorry.”

“What time is it?”

“Six. I’ve got to get home, shower and get ready for my 8:30 meeting. Can I call you in a few hours?”