She shook her head, her brain not following. ‘How do you know where I work?’
A muscle spasmed in his jaw. ‘Your stories go online,’ he said, and she nodded, because of course they did, and they ran with her byline. A simple Internet search would have shown her pieces.
‘You’re very talented.’ She ignored the pride in his voice, the warmth she might have felt under different circumstances, and focused on what he was saying.
‘So you got me to come to a thing that my ex-husband would be at, just so you wouldn’t have to face the possibility of rejection?’
His jaw tightened. ‘You saw him?’
‘Yes, I saw him.’
‘And?’
‘And what? I told him what a jackass he is, how lucky I am to be free of him.’
The admiration in his expression was unmistakable. And damn it, her heart thwomped in response, warmth spreading through her that she definitely didn’t want to feel. ‘But you didn’t know that,’ she snapped.
‘Know that you are capable and brave, and more than a match for that weak-minded fool? Do you think I doubted that,agape? Do you think any part of me believes you are not able to handle anything life throws at you?’
Her lips parted. The sweetness of that spread through her and then burst into her belly, like fireworks.
She glanced sideways, needing a second to gather her thoughts, because being face to face with Nikos was making it impossible to think straight. She was unbearably torn between what she wanted and what she needed to do, between heart and head, hope and hurt.
‘It’s been four months,’ she whispered, lifting a hand to tuck an errant wisp of hair behind her ear at the same time he went to do the same, so their fingers brushed and her eyes flew back to his face, her heart leaping into her throat. ‘Four months,’ she said, imploringly, staring at him, as his fingers curled around hers and then laced through them, lifting them to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
‘Yes, it’s been the worst four months of my life,’ he said, eyes hooked to hers. ‘Like you, I kept thinking I would get past it, that I would wake up one day and feel like myself again, but I cannot. I will never get used to missing you, my darling, my love.’
She shook her head, willing herself not to believe it.
‘I was so afraid of hurting you. After Isabella, how could I trust that I would do what was right by you? Even knowing my heart belonged to you, I could never ask you to trust me with it, to trust me with your life.’
‘That’s my decision to make.’
‘Yes, it always was,’ he agreed. ‘And you made it. You gave yourself to me, and instead of taking that gift with both hands open, I fled, because even the remotest possibility of hurting you, of making you miserable, of being someone else you had to get over, as you have James… I ran from that, Genevieve.’
She closed her eyes. ‘You hurt me, anyway.’
‘I hurt us both.’
She bit back a sob at the truth of that.
‘I came to Washington because I needed to tell you that I was wrong.’
She kept her eyes closed. His hand squeezed hers.
‘I will never forgive myself for how I was with Isabella, but I’m not that man any more, and you are not her. We are different; everything about us is. With my dying breath, I will honour and cherish you, if you will let me. Without me realising it, you have become the most important thing in my life, the only thing I seem to care about, these days. All I ask is that you consider letting me back in, to prove to you that I deserve what you so freely offered, in Katanos.’
She couldn’t bite back this sob. It burst from her as she opened her eyes and stared at him imploringly.
‘What does that mean?’ she finally whispered.
‘That I want to date you,’ he said. ‘That I want to cherish and adore you, to stand by your side as you make your journalistic mark on the world, supporting your work, your goals, being whatever you need me to be, until you realise that your first instinct about us was right. We are meant to be together, and I will be here, if you’ll let me, every single day, until you see that what we share is unique and wonderful—and truly meant to be.’
A tear slid down her cheek. ‘And if Iwon’tlet you?’ she whispered, hauntingly.
Grief passed over his features, but he rallied quickly. ‘Then I’ll still be here, just in case you change your mind. If you need me, or want me, or just need a friend to talk to about your day.’ He squeezed her hand again. ‘In whatever capacity you’ll have me, I’m here. I love you, Genevieve, but I’m not stupid enough to expect this to be easy. I recognise what it took for you to admit your feelings for me, to evenfeelthem at all. And I know what my reaction must have done to you. I am for ever sorry for that.’
Another tear slid down her cheek and this time, he lifted his spare hand to dab it away.
