“You acted swiftly. Good judgment under pressure. That’s rare.” She extended her hand with a firm shake. “Irida Christakis. Theia to this troublemaker.”
Kat cleared her throat loudly. “How perfectly dramatic,” she said, sliding her arm possessively through Santo’s. “Tia has always had a knack for making abigimpression.“ Her smile was brittle as she tugged Santo inside. “You must tell me what you’ve been up to since breaking my heart.”
With a smooth movement, he disengaged from her grip and reached for my hand instead. “The orchestra just started,” he said. “And I owe my savior a dance.”
Before I could process what was happening, he was guiding me through the grand entrance, leaving Kat standing with his grandmother and aunt. The strength of his fingers around mine sent a shiver racing up my arm.
The opulent ballroom opened before us, and crystal chandeliers shined light over couples already swaying to the music. I should return to Kat’s side, but part of me wanted to be held by him. For just one song.
“Santo,” I whispered urgently, “We can’t justleave Kat out there.”
His thumb traced a small, distracting circle against my palm. “She’ll survive,” he murmured, turning to face me. His other hand settled at the small of my back, respectful yet somehow intimate. “You look beautiful tonight.”
I felt my cheeks warm as we began moving to the music. “This isn’t right,” I said, though I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. “Kat told me you two are getting back together.”
A shadow crossed his face, followed by a smile that transformed his features. “Is that what she said?” His hand pressed firmer against my back, bringing me closer. “I have no intention of getting back together with Katalina.”
“But she has feelings for you,” I said softly, hyperaware of his hand against my back, the slight pressure guiding me expertly through the steps of a dance I didn’t know.
“And I have feelings for you,” he said simply.
Wait. What? He had feelings for me? After two brief meetings? It seemed impossible.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” Chrysanthos continued, breaking through my thoughts.
This wasn’t happening. The look in his eyes—so intent, so focused solely on me—was something I’d never experienced before.
No man had ever looked at me that way, as if I were the only woman in the room. As if I mattered. Loyalty to Kat warred with the inexplicable pull I felt toward Santo.
The careful distance I’d maintained with men for years seemed to dissolve under his gaze. His hand at my back felt like it belonged there, like we’d danced together countless times before. Everything Kat had said about Greek men not finding me attractive clearly didn’t apply to Santo, and the realization was exciting.
My heart fluttered traitorously. “A date?”
“Yes, Tia. A date.” His smile deepened. “Just the two of us. No car crashes, no party, no Katalina.”
Part of me warned this was wrong. But another part, a part I rarely acknowledged, whispered that life was short and some chances only came once.
I caught sight of Kat over his shoulder, her expression thunderous as she watched us from the entrance. The guilt crashed over me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gently extracting myself from his arms. “I can’t do this to her.”
His expression softened. “Think about it.”
I stepped back, my skin still tingling where he’d touched me. “I need the ladies’ room.”
“Tia,” he called as I turned away. “I meant what I said. You look beautiful tonight.”
I hurried toward the corridor, my pulse racing, wondering how one man’s words could simultaneously excite and frighten me so completely. When I entered the marble-clad bathroom with its gilded fixtures and fresh flowers, I leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths and trying to make sense of the evening’s bizarre turn of events.
Why was he being so attentive? Was it just gratitude for saving him, or did he actually desire me? Or was I just another girl—Black girl— to add to his notch?
Guys my age never gave me a second glance, especially when I was out with Kat or Tammy. Even standing next to my mother drew attention away from me. No one ever believed she could have a twenty-two-year-old daughter.
Mom never pushed beauty standards on me. The problem was simply existing in her shadow. I was too dark, too curvy, too reserved—at least according to the guys my friends tried to set me up with.
“She seems nice, but...”I’d heard that trailing excuse enough times to know how it ended. I told myself I didn’t care.
So why were Santo’s words clinging to me like dew? I didn’t want to believe them, but it was hard not to when he looked at me like he truly wanted me.
