Marley sat down and spread her hands over the cool stone. She stared ahead and felt a glimmer of sadness. It made no sense, but she knew she had sat here before, and she knew that she had felt fear. Uncertainty.
She raised her hands to cup her face and leaned over, huddled on the bench. It was there, just out of reach, so close she could feel the heavy weight of sadness, of indecision.
A hand touched her shoulder, and Stavros’s concerned voice reached her. “Are you all right? Do I need to call Mr. Anetakis? Perhaps I should take you to the hospital.”
She shook her head and looked up. “No. I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve been here before. I can feel it.”
Stavros nodded, though the concern didn’t leave his eyes. “You often said this was your thinking spot.”
“It would appear I had a lot to think about,” she murmured.
He checked his watch. “Let me call Mr. Anetakis and tell him to meet us at the restaurant. By the time we return to the apartment, you could already be eating.”
She didn’t object when he gently helped her up, and instead of walking just behind her, he held her elbow as they walked back to the car.
“Stavros, please don’t concern Chrysander,” she said as he put her into the car. “He’ll have me back at the apartment in bed.”
“Which is perhaps where you should be,” Stavros said.
She made a face. “You’re seriously no fun. I’m supposed to go shopping. For a wedding dress no less. I can’t very well do that if I’m in bed.”
Stavros looked to be fighting a smile as he closed the door. A moment later, the privacy glass slid down and Stavros turned to look at her. “If Mr. Anetakis asks, I’ll simply say we had a quiet day on the town.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” she said cheekily, her good spirits restored.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Chrysander met them at the car and promptly dismissed Stavros, saying he would have his driver take him and Marley home when they were through shopping.
Over lunch, Chrysander asked how her morning had gone, and she explained about all the places Stavros had taken her. But when she asked him about his morning, he grew silent and vague.
Not wanting to cast a pall over the day, she swiftly changed the topic to their shopping.
“Exactly how fancy is this reception we’re attending?” she asked as she savored another bite of the rich pasta.
He quirked one eyebrow. “That depends on your definition of fancy.”
“Oh, then I can wear my blue jeans and maternity top,” she said sweetly.
He laughed. “While I certainly would not object to you wearing your blue jeans, I do not want others seeing you in something that cups your bottom so lovingly.”
“Am I supposed to dress up then?” she asked with a sigh.
“Don’t concern yourself with it,pedhaki mou.I will choose the perfect dress for you.”
“I won’t wear high heels,” she said resolutely. “There is no way I’m waddling around on toothpicks.”
“Of course not,” he said in a tone that suggested she was crazy for even mentioning it. “I’m certain it’s not advisable for a pregnant woman to put herself through such torture. What if you fell?”
“Maybe I could go barefooted,” she said mischievously.
He laughed. “And maybe I should stick to a plan of keeping you at home solidly under lock and key.”
She swallowed the last bite of her pasta and reluctantly pushed the plate away. “That was so wonderful, and I ate far too much.”
“You need to gain some weight. You are too slight as it is. It is good that you ate well.”
“And if I eat any more, I won’t fit into whatever dress you plan on buying me.” She glanced down at her rounded belly. “Do they make ultra-chic wear for pregnant women?”
Chrysander gave her a patient look. “Trust me, Marley. We will find you something suitable.”
