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16
His home was spectacular.
Thirty years ago, Xandros had lived in a small cave house built into the hillside in Fira. A large sofa separated the kitchenette and small living space from his bedroom area. But it had been perfect for the two of them, cozy, romantic, with floor-to-ceiling front windows that opened to a view of the caldera and the Aegean.
But this was a whole different world.
After he helped her off the quad bike, she set her helmet on the seat, gazing at his home sitting on a promontory just above Fira. She counted four levels, each with a balcony draped in bougainvillea and flowering plants. He’d built the house of the same bright white as most island homes, its gates, doors, and shutters all blue.
He was far from the beach bum her mother had said he would be all his life.
Xandros held out his hand, and she took it, saying, “Your home is amazing,” as he led her through the blue door framed by a bougainvillea vine.
“I built it for the best views.” He smiled as they stepped into the interior. “I wanted a room for each of my children. And now there are my grandchildren.” His eyes twinkled with fondness for his family.
They entered on the top level. A huge family room with French doors at one end opened onto a large balcony. The sun sparkled on a sea that seemed to stretch forever.
She had only one word. “Wow.”
He threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape. “Remember how we talked about waking every morning and sitting on our balcony to watch the sunrise?”
“And the sunset too,” she added.
“I built my home for both views. I could have been higher on the southern end of the island, but it’s windier up there.”
She laughed. “It’s windy everywhere.” The sea always whipped up the winds on Santorini. She’d grown used to it.
He opened the French doors for her, and she stepped out, hit by the full heat of the sun. Though it was mid-June, and July and August were the hottest months, the day was still warmer than she was used to back home. Below them were the stacked buildings of Fira, and to the north was Oia. The balcony wrapped around to the view of a small vineyard, the vines coiled on the ground to minimize the heat and wind that ravaged the grapes.
She turned to him. “You make your own wine?”
He shrugged eloquently. “It is small. I don’t sell the wine. I use it only for giveaways to friends, guests, and clients of my company.”
He ushered her back inside to show her the rest of the house. Beyond the living room, sunk into the cliff, was his kitchen. Copper pots and pans hung from a wire rack over an island with a state-of-the-art cooktop and pop-up fan. Cubbies along the back wall held every appliance imaginable, a built-in microwave and double oven, cupboards, glass-fronted cabinets with dinnerware, glasses, and mugs. The dining area was in the northeast corner, where the sun would bathe it in morning glory.
“You still cook.”
Xandros had always loved cooking, making all the Greek specialties for her.
“I like nothing better than hosting parties and preparing all the food myself.”
He’d done that back then, cooking for his friends. So many things had changed and yet so many had not.
He curled his fingers around hers. “Let me give you a tour.”
A spiral staircase led to a lower level that housed a rec room with a pool table in the center. Two bedrooms set into the rock shared a large bathroom between them.
She sent the cue ball flying into a stack of colored balls. “This is a new pastime.”
He grinned at her. “There was no room for a billiards table in my tiny home. But I played a lot in Athens while I attended university. And the children enjoy it.”
She tried to keep the surprise off her face. “You didn’t tell me you’d been to university.” They were together for three weeks and he’d never mentioned it.
He turned and walked to the French doors, blue again, and stood looking out of them. “I attended after you left. My wife preferred Athens,” he added as if he needed to explain. “I took a business degree, like my daughter. I felt I couldn’t expand my father’s business unless I learned.” He turned to her once again, his arms folded. “Learning the business from the ground up.” He smiled, his teeth gleaming even with his back to the window.
“I got my university degree and did nothing with it except become a mother and head charity committees.”
His smile faded, and the sparkle in his eyes seemed to die.
