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She frowned. ‘That was two years ago. You remembered?’
‘I remembered,’ he said simply.
Something far too overwhelming shifted inside her, something close to what she’d imagined being special, being treasured felt like. Her throat tightened as she stared at the twenty-foot-high portable cinema screen and the dozens of lanterns placed strategically around it, and the wide, snow-white futon-like cushions inviting lazy relaxation. Two silver buckets with vintage champagne were set on either side of the futon with turquoise cashmere throws draped over the seats for when the weather cooled.
‘Before we indulge in that though...dinner?’ he asked, his voice low, deep and throbbing with the same sensation surging through her.
She turned from the pleasurable sight to see a table for two set with a white tablecloth, sterling silverware gleaming under candlelight. Beside their table stood a small buffet stand with a dozen domed dishes placed on it.
While she knew she couldn’t...shouldn’t read anything into it, Alexis couldn’t stop the lump lodging in her throat, or her fingers from curling tightly around his when Christos tugged her towards the table.
It was all far too much. She wanted to step back, gather the crumbling pieces of her armour, in case she needed it later, after the magic wore away. But she suspected it was already too late.
She watched him when he moved. Stared into his face when he spoke to her. Allowed her fingers to linger on his when he passed her a glass of perfectly chilled Chablis.
And when he touched on the subject she usually never discussed, she tensed for a very brief moment before she swallowed and answered.
‘Tell me how you ended up at Hope House.’
The rush of pain that came with her truth never failed to steal her breath. ‘I never knew my mother. She left me on the doorstep of Hope House’s high-street charity shop when I was a week old. The nuns from the orphanage took me in.’
His face froze, his eyes burning with an unholy blaze that sent agitation skittering over her skin. The blaze abated and he breathed out. ‘I didn’t mean to resurrect what must be a...painful memory for you.’
‘You didn’t know. As you can imagine, it’s not information I toss into everyday conversation.’
His nod was abrupt. ‘Did you ever try to find her or your father?’
She shook her head. ‘All I have is a handwritten note left for whoever found me, a request that I be named Alexis, and a blanket I was wrapped in. Not much to go on.’
Incisive eyes rested on hers. ‘And if you had further resources? Would you wish to probe deeper?’
Her heart lurched, then lodged in her throat. ‘I’ve thought about it. I’ve never been quite able to decide if I’m better off not knowing or risking being further hurt by whatever reason she had for leaving me there.’
His sensual lips twisted and his gaze dropped to his glass before rising to meet hers again. ‘Perhaps you won’t see it this way, but there is a deeper pride in knowing that whatever you’ve become has been without either of your parents’ influence.’
There was a hard edge in his voice that suggested a personal pain. One that echoed inside her but for the opposite reason. ‘I guess that’s where the conundrum lies. Would I prefer the choice of knowing or living with an...emptiness?’
He reached across the table, covered her hand for a moment before he sat back. ‘The former might not necessarily bring the closure you wish for. Knowing my parents still left me with more questions than answers. As harsh as it seems, perhaps you’re better off not knowing?’
‘How did you...?’ She paused because she wasn’t sure he’d got over his parents’ treatment of him. ‘Don’t you wonder how things could’ve turned out if you’d tried to reconcile with them?’
His lips compressed. ‘No. They made their choice. I had to make mine. If onlys become weights that just drag you down eventually.’
‘So your advice is just...live with this emptiness?’
‘No, matia mou. My advice is to become the best version of yourself you can be so that when you find yourself in a similar position, you have better options.’
Anguish moved through her. ‘I don’t think I could abandon my child under any circumstances.’
Something flashed in his eyes, making her insides tighten. ‘Then you’re already a thousand times better than the mother who left you with no explanation,’ he said, his voice gravel-rough.
That tightening moved up her chest and into her throat. Stupid tears prickled her eyes and she desperately blinked them away, registering that her pain had receded, perhaps had even shrunk smaller than ever.
‘I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re so fearsome,’ she joked, striving to lighten the atmosphere before her emotions got the better of her.
He took her cue and sent her a devastating smile that produced a much more pleasurable ache inside her. ‘Fearsome has its advantages, as long as it gets me what I want.’ Eyes heavy with lust watched her as she toyed with the stem of her glass.
Perhaps she knew she was straying into dangerous territory by probing, but she couldn’t stop the question. ‘Tell me when you last brought another woman here, to this cave. Or did any of this.’ She waved her hand around the spectacular setting. The last rays of the sun tinged the sky a deep bold orange, enough to make the sea look as if it were on fire. Enough to make this the kind of paradise very few people got to experience. The kind of paradise that made foolish wishes seem attainable.
