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She laughed at the ease with which he’d seen through her simple statement. “Yes, frankly.”
“Your ex-husband wasn’t considerate?”
It sobered Bella instantly. “Oh, he was. He was – is – a perfect gentleman.”
Something like speculation sparked in Vitalo’s expression, the depths of his dark eyes swirling with questions, but he didn’t ask any of them.
He popped the top and champagne bubbled out as with a regular bottle. When he poured it into the two flutes, she recognized the distinctive orange label of the bottle. “I didn’t know you could even buy this.”
“It’s a special order,” he shrugged.
“Seriously?”
He nodded, filling her glass then his own and passing one to her. She held it, her eyes hesitant to hold his now. The wedding ring on her left hand felt strange – she was conscious of it with each movement she made.
“Here’s to you, Mrs Katrakis,” he said, holding the glass to her. She clinked hers to it, heat warming her cheeks.
Mrs Katrakis. The name was addictive.
“And to you,” she said.
“And to this little person in your belly.” He smiled as he put a hand against her stomach and her pulse fired up another notch. Perhaps he felt it, or perhaps he simply understood, because something in the air around them seemed to change, as though live-voltage had been infused into their atmosphere.
She sipped her non-alcoholic champagne, turning to the view of the ocean. “It’s beautiful here,” she said honestly. “So peaceful.”
“Too peaceful, at times,” he said with a laugh.
“Is there such a thing?”
She moved to the railing and perched her elbows on it, just as a large black bird flew across the horizon, its wings beating languidly, as though sunning itself in the dipping sun.
“I suppose that depends on who you are and what you enjoy.”
Not for the first time, Bella experienced a little jolt of anxiety – she knew so little about this man. How could she possibly have done something as impetuous as marrying him? And why wasn’t she more panicked by that?
“And what do you enjoy, Mr Katrakis?”
He moved beside her, echoing her position, his face staring out at the lowering sun. “Would you like a list?”
She laughed softly. “I guess so. It occurs to me I know very little about the man I married.”
“And won’t it be fun to get to know one another?” He prompted, tilting his head to look at her, and her pulse ratcheted up a notch; her blood churned through her body so fast she could hear it gushing in her ears.
“Yes,” she said, simply, because he was right. Like a delicious piece of cake at the end of an enormous meal, she wasn’t sure she wanted to rush through this stage of their relationship – she wanted to savour each morsel of information, to digest it and taste it before moving onto the next.
“How about you give me something small,” she suggested, sipping her drink once more.
“Such as?”
“Tell me about your childhood,” she prompted, thinking of something relatively benign. “Did you spend much time on the island while you were growing up?”
He turned back to the ocean, his eyes moving across its edges restlessly. “We summered here.” Something darkened in his expression. “My mother used to bring me here.”
“And your father stayed in Athens?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw, as though he were grinding his teeth. “Much of the time.”
“Working?” She prompted, her question natural.
