That was good in the long term, but right now he battled an absurd, juvenile urge to forget the outside world and the harsh realities of life and pretend he hadn’t taken the call. To continue, just a little longer, as they’d been doing for…five weeks! Was it really so long?
Hauling in a deep breath scented with sunshine and growing things, he moved closer. She was so absorbed she didn’t notice his approach as he came up beside her.
Angling his head he saw the image she sketched.
Pride jabbed him at her obvious talent. That was swiftly followed by astonishment, first at the subject, then at some unexpectedly familiar details. The angled eyebrows he saw in the mirror every day. They were so distinctive he’d been teased about them as a kid. The severe expression in those narrowed eyes that he’d also seen in the mirror when something annoyed him.
‘So that’s how you see me, is it?’
She looked up, startled. After a moment those delectable grooves appeared in her cheek as she smiled. ‘I think you make a fine dragon. Don’t you?’
Fotis shifted closer, his hand settling on her shoulder, needing to touch her. Not merely because the news he brought meant the end of what they shared. But because, how could he not? It was as natural as breathing for them to touch. He held back a sigh of relief as his fingers covered her bare skin and the urgent thrum of his pulse slowed just a little.
Besides, he knew how significant this moment was. Rosa’s smile and her invitation to look were unprecedented. She’d never mentioned what it was she wrote in her notebook and he hadn’t asked. Nor had she explained the hours she spent on the computer, though he’d guessed it was some sort of work.
He knew it was important to her. She’d spend hours at a time utterly focused. In the first weeks she’d snap shut her notebook or laptop as soon as he appeared. Lately that had changed, and he’d hoped she’d let him into her secret.
How ironic that today, probably their last day together, was the day.
Heat closed around his throat, like a massive hand squeezing the air out. Panic scrabbled at him until, with a mighty effort, he swallowed and breathed again.
Fotis studied the image, noting how the angle of the beast’s impressive, raised wings mirrored the set of its eyebrows. How the image seemed alive with energy.
‘It’s good. It looks like it could fly off the page. But do dragons have eyebrows?’
‘This one does. He draws them down when he’s grumpy. Or waggles them when he laughs.’
‘He laughs, then?’ Stupid to feel relieved.
‘Oh, yes. But only with people he trusts. At first he’s all fire and brimstone. But when you get to know him he’s unexpectedly charming.’
Her gaze was warm and he wanted to stay in this moment, having her look at him that way. He dragged the other ancient chair across and sat down so close their arms brushed.
The news from New York could wait. Selfishly, Fotis wanted to extend time before the real world intervened.
Coward.
He ignored the inner jibe. They couldn’t have a future but he’d have this. He knew how much it meant for Rosa to open up about what she’d hidden so assiduously. It would take a worse man than he to rob her of this moment.
Besides, he wanted to know. And he was desperate to stave off what must come.
‘Tell me,’ he urged.
She did, slowly at first but with an enthusiasm that made her glow. How she’d always scribbled stories and drawn. Her mother had encouraged it and her father had declared it a waste of time and effort. Over time, after Rosa lost her mother and the world grew more censorious, she’d found increasing solace in writing fiction and drawing the worlds she created. It was her escape.
‘It’s a fantasy, part of a series for younger readers,’ she explained. ‘It’s named after Princess Lily but my favourite is her friend, Daisy, the innkeeper’s daughter. She lives in the village below the castle. She’s practical and clever and competent. Lily always seems to find trouble but together they find their way out again.’
He was intrigued, not just by her words but by the images she showed him. ‘And the dragon?’
‘He’s a newcomer and Lily’s terrified of him, especially when she meets the handsome, golden-haired prince who’s hunting him. He tells her terrible stories about the dragon. Until Daisy discovers the dragon’s in pain, wounded by the prince’s arrow. The handsome prince is a thief, trying to find the dragon’s lair to search for dragon eggs and treasure. The dragon has led him away.’
Fotis huffed a laugh. ‘So the grouchy dragon is a good guy, protecting his family?’
She shrugged. ‘Partly. But he’s not a villain. One of the themes is about not judging too quickly, not accepting at face value what someone says.’
Because handsome, plausible people weren’t always who they seemed, and even grumpy beasts might prove to have hidden depths. Something swooped low from his chest to his gut.
‘It’s much more complicated than that and it’s an adventure rather than a morality tale.’ She shot him a sideways look. ‘I hope you don’t mind that I stole your eyebrows. And your death stare.’
