Summer Love - Page 50

She wished it could be simple, the way she imagined it was simple for so many other women. An attractive man, a physical tug. But with Stephen, as with Athens, she’d lost her heart. However implausible it seemed, she had recognized the man, as well as the city, as being part of her, as being for her. Desire, when tangled up with love, could never be simple.

But how could you be sure you were in love when it had never happened to you before? If she were home, at least she would have a friend to talk to. With a little laugh, Rebecca walked out into the sunlight. How many times had she been on the receiving end of a long, scattered conversation from a friend who had fallen in love—or thought she had. The excitement, the unhappiness, the thrills. Sometimes she’d been envious, and sometimes she’d been grateful not to have the complication in her own life. But always, always, she’d offered calm, practical, even soothing advice.

Oddly enough, she didn’t seem to be able to do the same for herself.

All she could think of was the way her heart pounded when he touched her, how excitement, panic and anticipation fluttered through her every time he looked at her. When she was with him, her feelings and fantasies seemed reasonable. When she was with him, she could believe in fate, in the matching of soul to soul.

It wasn’t enough. At least that was what she would have told another woman. Attraction and passion weren’t enough. Yet there was no explaining, even to herself, the sense of rightness she experienced whenever she was with him. If she were a fanciful person she would say it was as though she’d been waiting for him, waiting for the time and the place for him to come to her.

It sounded simple—if fate could be considered simple. Yet beneath all the pleasure and that sense of reunion was guilt. She couldn’t shake it, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to ignore it much longer. She wasn’t the woman she had let him believe her to be. She wasn’t the well-traveled at-loose-ends free spirit she pretended to be. No matter how many ties she’d cut, she was still Rebecca Malone. How would he feel about her once he knew how limited and dull her life had been?

How and when was she going to tell him?

A few more days, she promised herself as she began the walk back. It was selfish, perhaps it was even dangerous, but she wanted just a few more days.

***

It was midafternoon before she returned to the hotel. Ignoring the fact that she might be considered overeager, she went straight to Stephen’s suite. She couldn’t wait to see him, to tell him everything she’d seen, to show him everything she’d bought. Her easy smile faded a bit when his secretary Elana opened the door.

“Miss Malone.” Gracious and self-confident, Elana waved her in. “Please sit down. I’ll let Stephen know you’re here.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.” Rebecca shifted her bags, feeling gauche and foolish.

“Not at all. Have you just come in?”

“Yes, I…” For the first time, Rebecca noticed that her skin was damp and her hair tousled. In contrast, Elana was cool and perfectly groomed. “I really should go.”

“Please.” Elana urged Rebecca to a chair. “Let me get you a drink.” With a half smile, Elana began to pour a tall glass of iced juice. She had expected Stephen’s mystery lady to be smooth, controlled and stunning. It pleased her a great deal to find Rebecca wide-eyed, a little unsure, and clearly a great deal in love.

“Did you enjoy your morning?”

“Yes, very much.” She accepted the glass and tried to relax. Jealousy, she realized, feeling herself flush at the realization. She couldn’t remember ever having experienced the sensation before. Who wouldn’t be jealous? she asked herself as she watched Elana walk to the phone. The Greek woman was gorgeous, self-contained, and coolly efficient. Above all, she had a relationship with Stephen that Rebecca knew nothing about. How long has she known him? Rebecca wondered. And how well?

“Stephen’s just finishing up some business,” Elana said as she hung up the phone. With easy, economical moves, she poured herself a drink, then walked to the chair facing Rebecca. “What do you think of Athens?”

“I love it.” Rebecca wished she’d taken the time to brush her hair and freshen her makeup. Lecturing herself, she sipped at her juice. “I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s everything and more.”

“Europeans see it as the East, Asians see it as the West.” Elana crossed her legs and settled back. It surprised her to realize that she was prepared to like Rebecca Malone. “What Athens is is Greek—and, more particularly, Athenian.” She paused, studying Rebecca over the rim of her glass. “People often view Stephen in much the same way, and what he is is Stephen.”

“How long have you worked for him?”

“Five years.”

“You must know him well.”

“Better than some. He’s a demanding and generous employer and an interesting man. Fortunately, I like to travel and I enjoy my work.”

Rebecca rubbed at a spot of dust on her slacks. “It never occurred to me that farming required so much traveling. I never realized how much was involved in growing olives.”

Elana’s brows rose in obvious surprise, but she continued smoothly when Rebecca glanced back at her. “Whatever Stephen does, he does thoroughly.” She smiled to herself, satisfied. She hadn’t been certain until now whether the American woman was attracted to Stephen or to his position. “Has Stephen explained to you about the dinner party this evening?”

“He said something about a small party here at the hotel. A business dinner.”

“Men take these things more lightly than women.” Feeling friendlier, Elena offered her first genuine smile. “It will be small, but quite extravagant.” She watched as Rebecca automatically lifted a hand to her hair. “If you need anything—a dress, a salon—the hotel can accommodate you.”

Rebecca thought of the casual sportswear she’d tossed into her bag before the impulsive trip to Athens. “I need everything.”

With a quick, understanding laugh, Elana rose. “I’ll make some calls for you.”