She held his gaze, that soft thing that scared him right there in their dark depths. But he was no coward. To turn away from fear was cowardly.
She must have felt the same. She spoke softly again. “No, it would be no hardship.”
“Then we shall begin to plan a wedding.”
She said nothing to that. She sipped her water and looked out at the sea. He didn’t interrupt whatever she was thinking about. She wasn’t offering any kind of opposition, was she?
She ate a bit, and they sat in what he was determined was a companionable silence even if he felt oddly…tense.
“I never really planned on getting married,” she said thoughtfully after she’d eaten a little bit, still looking out at the sea.
“Neither did I.”
Her gaze moved to him. He saw a softness there he did not recognize. Something she’d kept to herself until now. Always so tough on the outside, but there was not only strength underneath. There was…whatever this was.
“So…why should that change?” she asked him. Not in challenge. No, in curiosity. “We do not need to rush into anything. I think the normal expectation is for an engagement to last. I’ve no doubt you can find Erjon before we’d be expected to marry.”
I’ve no doubt.The fact she believed in him, trusted him, only added to his certainty. They would be good for one another. “We enjoy each other.”
“We can enjoy one another without anything legally binding,” she replied.
He tried not to be frustrated, because she was not refusing. She was simply…protecting herself. He simply needed to make it clearhewould protect her. He would take care of everything for her.Legally bindingwas for her. “I offer you the world, Ari. Won’t you take it?”
She took her time before answering, clearly considering the implications of that. “It’s a lot to offer for a little enjoyment. Surely you’ve enjoyed other women before and not married them.”
He saw in her careful study that she was searching for something, and he was determined to give it to her. To be what she needed. “Perhaps, but none so much as you.”
Their gazes held, and her breath, too. The moment stretched out, a band of pressure around his chest. There were more words, more feelings. The idea oflove. Could she love him? If she accepted all he gave her, if she let him… It could be love. Perhaps it could be love.
“All right,” she said slowly, after quite a few seconds had passed. “I haven’t had very much enjoyment in my life. I suppose it would be foolish to reject it out of hand.”
“And you are not foolish,glikí mou.”
She smiled softly, but he saw something not quite certain in her gaze. But she stood before he could analyze what.
“I’m sorry. I have to get to the gym. I can’t be late for my class.”
He nodded.
And that was how they parted. Nothing more said. No fond touches. Just…an agreement. An arrangement.
He refused to let that leave him unsettled. Perhaps they had not discussed that this was more than pretend or simple enjoyment, but they did not need to. They both knew, with or without words.
He went through the morning trying to determine what arrangements for a wedding were acceptable to make without his future bride’s input. It would need to be soon, so he needed to get the ball rolling. Perhaps they could have a small affair, then something bigger and splashier for the society pages. But the ceremony itself, just for them.
So that she could become Ariadne Kritikos.
She would not need to use his name for boxing since she’d built her career as Ari Malis, but she would be his in every other arena.
It felt as right as anything ever had.
Perhaps he would take her with him to Anovol. Whether he wanted to or not, whether his mother would actually accept help or not, Zervou knew he would need to head home to deal with getting his grandmother moved into palliative care in the coming days.
Not to hold his stranger of a grandmother’s hand. Not to introduce Ari to his mother, even if he was already picturing it. Even if it…somehow mattered.
He shook that thought away. He would go to handle things. Period. No matter how little it was appreciated, it was necessary. Something his father’s memory demanded, no matter how Zervou wished it wouldn’t.
He’d been a good man, his father. Principled. It hadn’t helped him any, but still Zervou knew that at least when it came to his mother, he had to abide bysomeof the principles left behind by a man who’d died rather than bow and scrape to viciousness.
