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Slowly her attention comes back to me and once again, I push my thoughts aside. “It’s a small table, Marco. Probably the smallest they have in this restaurant.”
“It’s too much distance, Helena.”
She stares at me, her face stunned. Then, she does the last thing I ever expected. She throws her head back and laughs. It’s not a small laugh either. No, it flows from her freely and the sound of it makes my lips twitch with the need to smile. “I’m not sure I understand the irony in this completely, but the fact that you barely wanted to be near me since our engagement and now look as if you want to throttle someone just because I’m sitting a couple feet from you, is something I can’t help but find hilarious.”
“I, on the other hand, don’t find it funny at all. There are a lot of things that you and I need to understand about one another, Helena. It will come in time.”
“Maybe,” she allows. “If we have that time.”
“I do believe you’re trying to bait me, sweetheart. It’s not going to work.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Keep it up and you will be,” I counter, not buying her innocent act for one minute. A man comes to take our order and once that’s done, she frowns at me.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re supposed to be sweet and gentle with a woman if you’re trying to win her over?”
“I’m not a sweet and gentle kind of man.”
“It doesn’t take a sweet and gentle man to be that way with his woman. I doubt anyone would look at Antonio and say he was either of those things, but with Melina, he is.”
“Is there a reason you’re paying so much attention to my brother-in-law?” I ask, because her face goes soft and although I love when that happens, I’ve just discovered that I do not like it when she’s talking about another man.
She lets out a gasp and narrows her eyes at me in a way that broadcasts her anger. Once again, I fight against smiling at that, too. Seriously, I know I’ve spent my life under my father’s thumb to protect the ones I cared about. It has buried inside of me like a poison. I feel weak—too fucking weak—for letting that happen. Yet not once have I ever allowed the outside world to view me as weak. I spent my time making sure I was the creature that bumped in the night and made them piss their pants. The fact that Helena has no qualms about facing off with me, perplexes me and excites me all at the same time.
“Don’t be crass. I paid attention because I love my friend. It makes me happy that her and Antonio are the way they are because it is beautiful, and Melina deserves that beauty.”
“What do you deserve, Helena?”
I don’t know why I ask. Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but if she answers honestly, maybe I could give her what she needs to be happy.
I could hide the ugliness of who I am.
She shrugs instead of answering. “I would like to find someone who doesn’t push me away and forget I exist. I’m not sure that will ever happen.”
One of the staff brings a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses. I look up, annoyed with the interruption. “Leave it,” I instruct. “I’ll take over.”
“Yes, Mr. Stratakis.”
I grimace. That name. That fucking name again.
“Marco?”
When I force my attention to her, I can tell she’s staring at me very alert. I can’t handle the distance anymore. She doesn’t know—has no way of knowing—but I am finding I only feel alive when she is near me. “Come here, Helena.”
Her forehead crinkles in confusion as she continues watching me. “I am here.”
“Come to me,” I tell her, pushing away from the table just enough that she can tell what I want.
She looks around the room and a light pink hue rises on her cheeks. Shaking her head negatively, her eyes dilated, she finally looks at me. “Marco, I don’t think—”
“Come to me, now, Ena.”
She studies me for a moment or two. I wait to see if she’s going to deny me. I won’t like it and that will cut this dinner short. Still, if that’s her call, it is better the two of us sort this out now rather than later. Helena lets out a breath. The sound is audible and very dramatic as she stands and walks over to me.
“What on earth has—”
The rest of her words end on a gasp as I put my hands on her hips and pull her down into my lap. Her leg bumps the table—jarring it—but I get her settled and with her here, I finally feel as if I’m breathing once more.
She’s tense in my arms, as I bring my nose against the inside of her neck and then closer to her ear. “Relax, baby. I have you,” I murmur, one hand wrapped around her back to support her as she’s sitting sideways from the table. I use my free hand to move up and down her leg, trying to calm her, but also needing to touch her before I lose myself to the darkness inside.
