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“We’ve had a good relationship, but he always knew I’d leave when my father had to relocate.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that what you want to do?”
A haunted look crossed over her classic features. “Dad and I have never been separated. If Ferrante hadn’t died, we were going to live with my father wherever his work took him. Ferrante planned to give up his job. He was a linguist and would have found work with me so we could be together. The climb up Mont Blanc was going to be his last. As it turned out, it was his final climb.” Her voice shook.
Stavros reached out to squeeze her hand before releasing it. “How old was he?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Ferrante had been young and so much in love with Andrea, he was willing to give up his interests to be with her. He didn’t know any man willing to do that. But to live with her father? Why? That question was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t feel now was the time to broach the subject.
Her father couldn’t be an invalid—otherwise he wouldn’t be working at a mine site. Stavros didn’t understand. “What about his family?”
“We planned to fly to Ticino for vacations to be with his parents.” Her soulful eyes searched his. “What’s wrong, Stavros?”
What wasn’t!
“Nothing important.” This new information had knocked him sideways. “Do you know your eyelids are drooping? It’s getting late and I must confess I’m tired too. Why don’t we put off more talk until tomorrow?” He needed time to think.
“You’re a master at hiding your feelings, but I happen to know the incident in the foyer a little while ago has upset you. If you want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”
Stavros had already forgotten about it, but it was just as well she didn’t know what was really bothering him. “I’ve already learned that about you and will take you up on your offer in the morning.”
“Then I’ll say good-night.”
She shot out of the chair with her purse and disappeared from the dining room before he realized her intentions. He could have called her to come back, but then he’d have to admit he couldn’t comprehend his life without her in it. That was what was bothering him.
He’d never wanted a woman so much in his life. But if he told her this soon, she’d never believe him. Stavros hardly believed it himself. What had it been? Only a week since they’d met each other? It was asking too much of her when she’d just been witness to Tina’s lie, a lie Stavros couldn’t rule out definitively without proof.
On top of that nightmare was the news she’d be leaving with her father in October. Stavros was staggered by tonight’s events. He might as well have been smashed by one of those enormous marble slabs being loaded on one of the flatbed trucks. Heaven knew there’d be no sleep for him tonight. As for all the other nights to come, it didn’t bear thinking about.
* * *
After Andrea reached the guest bedroom, she shut the door and rummaged for the cell phone in her purse. Maybe her dad was already asleep, but she needed to hear his voice. Her call went through to his voice mail. She left a message for him to call her back when he could.
Once she’d taken a quick shower and brushed her teeth, she climbed into bed with a bestselling Jean Sasson novel. She needed to keep her mind occupied so she wouldn’t think about a troubled Stavros somewhere in the villa. If Tina had lied, then he had to be enraged.
When he’d locked Andrea in his arms a little while ago, it had felt so right she’d never wanted to leave them. Her heart had steamed into his. He was beyond wonderful. No man could compare to him.
Andrea couldn’t imagine what it was like for Stavros to live with that kind of pressure to marry a woman his family had picked out for him. How sad his grandfather wasn’t still alive.
But what if Stavros had lied to Andrea...?
She barely knew him, yet until Tina had appeared, Andrea had felt she knew all the important things about the core of him. In her heart, she didn’t believe he would lie to her. Because you don’t want to?
Her thoughts went back to Tina Nasso. Maybe she was pregnant, just not with Stavros’s baby. If that was true, then to confront him with Andrea standing there was a desperate act. Wretched and unconscionable, if Stavros wasn’t the father. What a nightmare for Stavros, who, through it all, had shown remarkable restraint.
She’d never known pressure from her father. With him for a role model, she knew the kind of man she wanted to marry. One who had her dad’s goodness and gentleness. When she’d told her father she loved Ferrante and planned to get married, he’d been totally accepting because he’d liked him from the beginning.
Maybe it was different between fathers and sons. Stavros’s mother had come right out, in front of Andrea, about her husband’s disapproval of the quarry tours Stavros had sanctioned. Those outspoken words—meant to chastise Stavros—had hurt Andrea for him.
Her thoughts jumped to Sakis, who had admitted to problems with his son. Though he’d made light of it, Andrea suspected his son probably wouldn’t laugh.
She decided she was the luckiest daughter in the world to have such a fantastic father. After showing Stavros her pictures, she was feeling exceptionally emotional. When the phone rang and she saw the caller ID, she picked up and blurted, “Dad? Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
He laughed for a long time. “I love you too, honey. What has brought all this on?”
“Things. Life.” Her voice wobbled. “Every day I appreciate you more and more. A lot has happened since we last talked.”
