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“Is that a ‘no’ to the gallery?”
She was being torn in so many directions. She’d wanted to keep Anastasios at a distance, but her heart was needing him to be close. She wanted to grab the art gallery opportunity with both hands, but caution was a ribbon, tying her in knots. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
“I will do whatever makes you comfortable,” he murmured. “Including giving you time to think. I’ll go right now, if you would like.”
It was crunch time. She could keep him at arm’s length, until she was sure that this was the right decision, or she could go with her gut, which already knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was right, in every single way.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” she said slowly, staring at his eyes, losing herself in their depths. She felt only good things when she stared at him. There was no wariness, no pain. Instead, love, faith, trust and hope mixed inside of her, as well as excitement at the prospect of what they could do together. “My father was a very bad man. He hurt me often and I hated him.” She reached out, putting a hand on Anastasios’ chest. “That night in Italy, when we fought, I thought you were just the same as him, but you’re not. He was truly terrible, whereas you are a very good man, who made a mistake. You can’t promise you won’t make another mistake, and I won’t ask it of you. It’s enough to know that you will try.”
“Christos,Phoebe, Icanpromise you, and I do promise you. I will never hurt you, and I will never let anyone hurt you. My actions that night were out of character and I have spent a lifetime repenting them already.”
Her heart fluttered.
“Would you like me to leave, so you can think about things?”
Her heart twisted.
“No.”
His eyes flared. “Would you like to go for dinner?”
Her cells fired with pleasure. “Nope.”
“Then what would you like to do? The decision is yours, Phoebe. All yours.”
She looked over her shoulder, into her tiny bedsit, then back at Anastasios. “There’s not a lot of space, but seeing as you’re here—,”
The words hovered between them, and each knew there was so much more to what she was saying. Anastasios’ eyes were suspiciously moist, but when he spoke, his voice was pure, confidence billionaire tycoon.
“If you’re inviting me in, the answer, my beautiful, darling Phoebe, is a resounding yes.”
Epilogue
SHE STRETCHED AND WOULD have fallen off the narrow single bed if a strong arm hadn’t banded around her waist and pulled her back, right into a wall of naked flesh. She smiled as shards of memories speared her into waking, and she spun, quickly, as excited as a little girl on Christmas morning.
“You’re here.”
His eyes held hers, and his expression was cautious. “And you’re happy about that?”
She lifted a hand to his cheek, moving closer so their noses brushed. “Yep.”
“No regrets?”
“Nope.”
He made a soft sound of relief and then kissed her. “Thank God.”
“Do you have plans today?”
“That depends on you.”
“It’s my weekend,” she said.
“So I can have you for forty eight hours?”
She blinked, the words lighting fires in her soul. Before she could answer, he moved even closer, so their bodies were completely melded.
“Or possibly longer?”
