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Not wanting to spend the night in her room on her first visit to New York, Scarlett changed into a black crop top and a high waisted skirt and set out to explore the nightlife. She didn’t have much money left, so she would be conservative of where she went, choosing to walk instead of hailing cabs. Her ankle would protest at the exercise, but she’d worn flat shoes to be on the safe side.
Just as she was passing Carter’s door, he opened it, revealing himself still dressed casually.
“Going somewhere?”
“Is that not allowed?”
“Scarlett, as I have assured you many times, you are not my prisoner.”
“Then stop treating me like one. I’m just going out for a bit.”
“And your ankle?”
So he was pretending to be concerned. That was crap. “It’s fine,” she lied.
“Then enjoy your evening. We’ll be shopping in the morning, I would appreciate if you weren’t totally spent.”
“Aka hungover. You’re telling me to not get wasted at some bar tonight.”
He didn’t respond.
“I’m a lady, a classy one at that. And I’m smart.”
“I never indicated you weren’t.”
She rolled her eyes, “Goodnight Carter.”
He stood in the door and smiled, it made her even crazier. “Good night.”
Scarlett stopped at a coffee shop for mocha just outside the hotel and watched the other customers come in and out. She wondered what it would be like to live in New York City, amidst the hustle and bustle of the daily grind. Though she’d lived near San Francisco all her life, she had grown up at Terini Manor, and was suddenly feeling very sheltered.
After all, how many other girls would have allowed themselves to be used as collateral in a business deal? Most daughters would have told their fathers to go to hell, but she’d been responsible, as usual. Look where it had gotten her. Practically a prisoner of a man who hated her and her entire family. A man who would never believe she could love him...
Scarlett’s eyes widened at that intrusive thought. She didn’t love Carter, and she wasn’t falling in love with him either. He couldn’t even tolerate her presence. When she was near him, he was rude and abrasive, accusing her of being manipulative and greedy at every turn. No, she simply could not be falling for that man, she assured herself.
It was late the next afternoon when the plane landed on Carter’s private island, Thakilopos. The temperature was peaking in the upper-eighties, and Scarlett wished she’d worn something cooler. Feeling absurdly nervous about meeting Carter’s family, she’d chosen to dress conservatively in khaki slacks and a prim white blouse with frilly cuffs. Now she longed to strip off the clothes and put on the new swimsuit she’d purchased in New York.
A silver Cadillac waited for them, and Darren rode in the front with the driver, while Scarlett and Carter shared the back seat. She stuck her head out the window and took a deep breath. The humidity was high, and the air felt heavy and moist, making beads of sweat appear on her brow almost instantly.
It was a small island and appeared to have only this one road cutting through it. They were only a mile or so from the sandy, brown beaches and sparkling Aegean Sea. The car halted after a few short minutes, and Scarlett stepped out of the Cadillac, anxious to see the villa.
It was a squarish stone building, whitewashed, with olive trees in the yard. The grass was bright green, freshly mown, and masses of greenery grew in organized chaos. Scarlett followed Carter inside the house, noticing the exquisite marble steps, and gasped in delight as they went in the entry way. A breathtaking mosaic of Diana was inlaid under their feet, the details painstaking. “This is lovely.”
“My sister Thea designed it.” Pride warmed his voice. “She studied art in Europe and worked at the Louvre for a time before returning home. Now she paints and sculpts. In her free time, what little there is,” he shared an amused look with Darren, “She donates her services to restore ancient Grecian art.”
“Does she live here?” asked Scarlett, eager to meet the woman responsible for the beautiful art they were standing on.
Carter nodded. “Yes, she lives here with Mama, and my other sister, Lydia, and her son Noah.”
Scarlett was unable to ask any more questions as his family descended upon them. The two younger women were beautiful, with olive complexions and wildly curling black hair. They both talked rapidly in Greek. Scarlett turned her attention to the older woman standing slightly behind her daughters and saw she was being observed.
Carter’s mother was tall and elegant. Her thick, black hair, streaked liberally through with gray, was bound on her head in a bun, making her look almost severe. The warm smile of welcome on her face counteracted Scarlett’s first impression. In accented English, she asked Carter, “Who is this lovely woman you have brought with you?”
Carter hesitated briefly, and Scarlett had an insane urge to blurt out a name, any name, as long as it wasn’t her own. She was saved from doing anything foolish by Carter’s reply. “This is Scarlett,” he said, pausing as he looked at his sisters, then his mother. “Terini.”
His sisters, who were filled with friendly chatter only moments ago, fell silent, their mouths gaping open. His mother’s eyes widened with surprise, and maybe something more. Her welcoming smile disappeared, and Scarlett felt exposed before them. “Hello,” she said, trying to sound bright and cheerful, but only managing flat and hoarse.
A sudden flurry of Greek began, and Carter responded to them in the language they all shared. Darren seemed to understand it too, as Scarlett saw him wince a couple of times, usually when Carter raised his voice.
