“Do you think your mom likes me?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” she said, rising onto her tiptoes. “But I love you. And that’s what matters.”
Her lips met mine in a desperate, hungry kiss. I backed her against the bookshelf, deepening the kiss as her fingers threaded through my hair.
The taste of her filled my senses. Her body molded to mine, soft curves pressing against me as our mouths moved together.
When we finally broke apart, both breathless, I rested my forehead against hers. “I love you too, aggelé mou. More than anything.”
23
The weight of a thousand eyes settled on us as Chrys and I stepped through the grand entrance of the Athens Museum of Art. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the sea of Greece’s elite in their finery. The soft murmur of conversation briefly faltered as we appeared.
Tonight’s charity gala for children’s education was the social event of the season—and apparently, the appearance of the Christakis heir with his African-American fiancée was its unexpected highlight.
“Everyone’s staring,” I whispered, instinctively pressing closer to Chrys’s side, tightening my hold on his arm.
“Not at me,” Chrys murmured, his lips brushing my temple as he guided me forward. His eyes swept appreciatively over the midnight blue gown that hugged my curves before falling in a waterfall of silk to the floor. “You’re breathtaking tonight, aggelé mou.”
Tonight was the first time I’d seen Chrys in formal wear since that dinner, where Kat called me a whore. The sight of him in his tailored black tuxedo made my heart race. The crisp white of his shirt contrasted beautifully with his olive skin, and the way he moved through the room with effortless confidence made it impossible to look away.
I fought the urge to fidget with the diamond necklace at my throat—another “small gift” from Chrys. After a week of living at my mother’s rented villa, tonight felt like stepping into a different world entirely. The opulence surrounding us was a reminder of the life I was choosing.
Across the room, my mother caught my eye, resplendent in a gold gown that shimmered with her every movement as she danced with Aristides. The violin’s plaintive notes seemed to guide their steps as they moved together.
My brow furrowed at how closely they danced and at how low Aristides’ hand rested on Mom’s back. Still, I couldn’t help but smile at the friendship they’d formed over the past week in their efforts to become amicable in-laws.
Dimitrios stood nearby, champagne flute balanced elegantly between his fingers, effortlessly charming a cluster of society women while Konstantin and Kayla held court near the auction displays, her hand occasionally drifting to her still-flat stomach.
Chrys leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I got us a hotel tonight,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that never failed to make me wet. “I think I’ll wither away if I don’t fuck you soon.”
My face was on fire. Great. Now I was blushing and horny in 4K.
“Really, Chrys?” I chuckled, squeezing his arm. “Thanks for being so patient this week.”
I had spent the past seven days living with my mom at her rented villa since she was leaving for the U.S. in two days. I’d missed her and wanted to spend that time catching up and doing fun things together since I would stay in Greece for the foreseeable future.
Mom and I had discussed many things and cleared the air quite a bit during those long conversations. She was disappointed in manyof the choices I made this summer, but supported and loved me, anyway.
As Chrys guided me deeper into the glittering crowd, the weight of tonight’s significance settled between my shoulder blades. Chrys had promised to end Katalina’s interference in our lives permanently. Tonight. Here.
“Are you going to tell me the plan now?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“You’ll see.”
Before I could press further, we were intercepted by an elderly couple, friends of Yiayia, who insisted on hearing all about our engagement. Chrys charmed them effortlessly.
When we finally extricated ourselves, Chrys led me toward the center of the room, where couples swayed to the orchestra’s melodic tones.
“Dance with me,” he said, turning to face me.
I hesitated, glancing nervously at the graceful couples surrounding us. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I can’t dance.”
Chrys pulled me into his arms, one hand settling at my waist while the other captured mine. “Really? You seemed quite skilled the morning you almost killed me.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the memory of his accident. “You were driving too fast,” I protested as he began moving us intime with the music. “And that was just... moving. This is actual dancing.”
“Trust me,” he murmured, guiding me through the steps. “Just follow my lead.”
