She had left Greece. She was in a foreign country seeing things she had never even dreamed of seeing. Even her wildest fantasies didn’t include Paris.
She’d told that to Zervou on the plane.
He’d told her she needed better fantasies.
Perhaps she did.
Ari hadn’t told her mother that they were traveling when she’d talked to her last night. She had just listened to her mother’s progress. Mostly positive, though Maria was already making noises about beingall curedand ready to be released.
Her counselors did not agree. So, Mother stayed. Something she did without argument only because she felt guilty, Ari knew.
She’d set her worry aside then, and she set it aside now. She was in Paris. She wanted to focus on that, revel in that.
Still her mind lingered on last night. After she’d hung up with her mother, Zervou had served her dessert. He didn’t say it was meant to be any kind of pick-me-up, but the timing was suspicious. Like he wanted to comfort her in some way.
Maybe that was why she had, yet again, spent the night in his bed.
She hadn’t meant to. She thought there should be some care taken to make sure she didn’t develop a habit that couldn’t been broken.
Sex felt like a dangerous precipice. There was the high of it, the desperation of it. The way those feelings lingered and never seemed to fully disappear. Because even in this car, with Paris all around them, she only needed to think about last night to feel her cheeks warm and her stomach clench.
How could this be different than desiring a drink, one more roll of the dice?
No, she had to be more careful. Stronger.
When the car pulled to a stop, Ari could only stare at the building out the window. It wasn’t a hotel or even an apartment. It was a full-on house, except house wasn’t the right word. Anestatelike what he had in Corfu. Perhaps a little smaller but just as beautiful.
Trees and flowers and greenery overflowed along the drive and around the entry to the building. It gleamed, windows sparkling, the soft French light making it all seem like some kind of fairy tale.
“Well, this is something,” she managed to say when Zervou came to her side of the car and opened the door, then helped her out into the warm afternoon. She could hear birds chirping and the rustle of the breeze in the trees. There was something spicy in the air.
Maybe she was dreaming.
“Just you wait,” he said, clearly pleased with himself and the mansion he was leading her to.
Up the white stairs. The front door opened, staff already welcoming them inside.
“I want to show you something before we take a rest before dinner,” he said, guiding her with her arm tucked in his.
She followed, speechless. Gigantic paintings dominated huge white walls… Beautiful views from every towering window, even as he led her down a set of stairs into what couldn’t possibly be called a basement. It was too big, too nice, too grand.
He opened a door, drew her into a large room and flipped on the lights.
She surveyed her surroundings in utter shock.
“It should be everything you need to stay for as long as we like,” Zervou said proudly.
It was. More than she’d come to expect, even from him. It was a fully equipped gym with a boxing ring at the center. Everything was newer and nicer than anything at her home gym.
She took a few steps toward the boxing ring. It shouldn’t be amazing. He was rich. But this was…more than she’d expected. She wouldn’t have to fight to have the time and place to train. It was all right here.
It did something to her lungs. Squeezed them tight. Discomfort and excitement twined into a feeling she didn’t recognize, didn’t want. It was too weighty and complicated.
Because she wanted this and knew she shouldn’t. She trusted him not to use it like a lure, and she shouldn’t.
She wasmovedand shouldn’t be.
Grow some spine, Ari.She tried. Tried so hard to harden a shell around a strangely soft heart as she turned to face him. She could not offer gratitude, though she should. Gratitude could be used against her, and she had to be unaffected. By this. By him.
