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She rolled her eyes. “Are you being so charming because you mean it, or because you’re just wanting to show me what you’re like with your usual dates?”
His brow furrowed in consternation. “I’m just being honest.”
She made a strangled sound of disbelief and forced herself to change the subject. “What are you going to do about Andy?”
Loucas reached across the table and took her hand in his. “What do you think I should do?”
She lifted her eyes to his, surprised that he was asking for advice. This man who seemed to have all the answers at his fingertips, who swaggered with unquestionable confidence, was asking for her input. “Well, I think you should love him. Like he wants to be loved. He has lost his parents, and he looks at you and sees you as kin. You’re so like Helena was.” She squeezed his hand when he went to pull it away. “I mean it, Loucas. You’re familiar to him. Don’t push him away. Don’t hurt him.”
She lowered her eyes. Remembering with a flash how he’d told her that he would hurt her one day. And she knew he would. Not by his actions, but by the inevitability that they would part ways, and she would pine for him for the rest of her life.
“I have no intention of hurting him.” His expression was bleak. “But I think I will anyway.”
“Why?”
He let out an anger roughened sigh. “I did not choose this life. I have always known I did not want a family. To have a child thrust upon me like this is, well, disconcerting, to say the least.”
Beneath the table, her spare hand fingered the hem of her dress nervously. “The situation may not be ideal, but I know you have what it takes to be a big part of Andrew’s life.”
“I don’t know how to be what you just described. I’m not naturally a loving man.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You are. You are with Andrew, anyway. You’re exactly what he needs.” She lifted his hand and studied it. Fascinated by the strong, long fingers, tanned, with deep nail beds. “Just be there. You don’t need to change, you just need to be around.”
“You think I should move my office to Nisi Ourano permanently?”
“Or take Andy to Athens.” She offered as an alternative, but the idea made her shake her head instantly. “Though he does love the island. He’s as much a beach baby as I was.”
He leaned back in his chair, breaking the contact between them. He observed her through narrowed, inquisitive eyes. “Tell me about yourself. You grew up near the beach, too?”
She nodded. “In a smallish city on the west coast.”
“And you loved the beach then?” He prompted, curious about what this woman would have been like as a child.
“I was passionately protective of it. We get a lot of tourists, driving down the coast. They’re heading for San Fran or LA. Most times, they stop off just long enough to buy a burger and throw their trash on the shore.” She grimaced. “I formed a troupe of juvenile vigilantes when I was in grade school. We used to go to the beach every afternoon and collect any junk we could find and put it in the bin.”
He laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.” He looked towards the sea. “The afternoon you came to my office, I was bowled over by your passion. Your mother bear streak of protectiveness towards my nephew was totally awe-inspiring.”
She sipped her drink, not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry if I was rude.”
“You were not rude. You said exactly what I needed to hear. You’re the first person who’s ever held a mirror up to me like that. I hated what I saw. What you must have seen.”
His frank admission filled her with a new level of love for him. When his arrogance was tempered with humility, it made an irresistible combination.
They chatted about trivial matters, such as the weather on the island and the makeup of the community, while they finished their drinks. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.” She took his hand and followed him from the bar.
As he opened the door for her, he turned back to the man behind the bar. “Efcharisto, Niko, itan megali,” he called by way of thanks. She looked wistfully at the cozy, family style tavern, wishing they could sit there all night and talk.
A short walk from the restaurant was a pier. It seemed to pop up out of nowhere, as they rounded a corner. At the far end, a solitary point was anchored. It was sleek, but large. Powerful and imposing, and obviously the last word in marine luxury. She surveyed the crisp white finish, darkly tinted windows, gleaming metal visible even from the shore. Before her eyes had landed on the Aleksandros logo, she had known it belonged to Loucas.
“Yours?” She asked, needlessly.
“Yes.” He squeezed her hand. “You like boats?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never been on one like this.” She thought of the big old trawler they sometimes used to take out over Summer, for a bit of fun. The ferry to the mainland she’d used a few
times; it was big and slow. “But I’m pretty sure I will.” She grinned up at him.
