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Her fingers trembled against his arm. She had forgotten those evenings—how her dad, handsome in his suit and tie, would let her stand on his shoes while he danced around the tiny flat, her mother laughing and clapping at the edge of the room.
‘I’m sorry.’ Achileas’s face was serious now, his smile gone. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you—’
‘You didn’t. It’s a nice memory. Usually, I only remember the bad things.’ She bit her lip. ‘Thank you.’
Beneath the glittering stars, his skin looked like polished bronze. ‘You don’t need to thank me.’
‘But I do. I know my dad is a long way from perfect, but it’s been such a long time since I’ve thought about him in a good way. And it was good sometimes. I think I need to remember that, because it’s not a great idea to hold on to the bad. Sometimes you have to grip really tightly to the good, otherwise you get stuck in the past.’
It was probably the longest speech she had made in her life, too long maybe because they had stopped moving now and he was staring at her, breathing a little unsteadily.
‘Why do you think I’m holding on to you so tightly?’ he said at last. His voice was taut, like a bow before the arrow flew. ‘You’re a good person, Effie. Good for me. Too good for me.’
A frown pleated his forehead and he muttered something in Greek. Then he lowered his face and kissed her.
His mouth drove the breath from her. There was a white flash, brighter than all the stars above them combined. She felt him slant his head, adjusting the fit of his mouth to hers, and then he kissed her again—kissed her as though it was years, not hours, since he had last kissed her.
And she couldn’t get enough. Even if it meant never taking another breath. She wanted to taste him—all of him. She wanted all of his heat and his hardness—
Her fingers bit into the swell of his biceps. ‘Can we go back to the villa?’
She felt the muscles along his jaw tighten as he breathed out against her mouth and knew that he was feeling the same shattering hunger. ‘Yes. I think that would be a good idea.’
He pulled her closer and she clutched at him, feeling the hardness of him through her dress, and he kissed her again—quickly this time, as though he didn’t trust himself to linger.
He led her back through the building, walking so fast and with such a sense of purpose that she had to run to keep up.
‘Sorry—’ Slowing his pace, he turned and gave her a smile that was both apologetic and shimmering with a need that made her breath dissolve. ‘I wasn’t thinking of you in heels,’ he said, leading her carefully down the staircase. ‘Well, I was, but not in that—’
He broke off, and his grip on her arm tightened almost painfully. Glancing up at his face, she felt her breath catch. His smile hadn’t so much faded as shifted into a different version of itself, like a tree shedding leaves in the autumn.
‘What is it? Have you changed your mind?’
But Achileas didn’t answer. Nor was he looking at her. His eyes were fixed on a grey-haired man standing at the bottom of the staircase. Standing...watching. Waiting.
Her breath died in her throat.
She had never seen him before in her life, but he was so familiar to her. Still handsome, his hair greying now, with straight, symmetrical features and those blue, blue eyes.
The same blue eyes as his son.
Her gaze moved silently between the two men, and she knew without any doubt that she was looking at Achileas’s father. She knew because it was like looking through a book of fabric samples where the pattern was the same, but the colour was slightly different.
For a moment, neither man spoke nor moved. They were like two ships run aground on sandbanks.
And then finally the older man inclined his head. ‘Achileas. What a pleasant surprise.’
His gaze hovered for a moment where his son’s arm curved around Effie’s waist, and then it lasered in on her face. She blinked. Beside her, Achileas stood stiffly in silence.
Motivated as much by good manners as panic, she held out her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Effie—Effie Price. I’m...’ She hesitated, unsure suddenly of how to finish the sentence she had started.
But, reaching out and taking her hand, Andreas Alexios finished it for her. ‘Engaged,’ he said, tilting the diamond up to the light as he kissed her fingers. ‘Congratulations, my dear.’ His smile was as smooth and polished as his voice. ‘I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced. I’m—’
‘My apologies.’
With a rush of relief, Effie felt Achileas move beside her, and she turned to him, smiling. But as she looked up into his face, she felt her smile freeze. He was smiling too, but his eyes were as flat and distant as the horizon.
‘Effie, this is Andreas Alexios. My father.’
