He caught her finger between his teeth, playfully nipping it. “You started it.”
She withdrew her finger from him with a grin that almost made him show her how wrong her idea was. “And I finished it. See how it works?”
“All right. I’ll keep my hands off you for the remainder of the day.”
“Great. What’s that wooden house over there?” she asked, pointing at the cafe not too far from them.
“It’s a cafe. They have ice cream. Hungry?”
“Have you tried their food?”
He sighed. “I haven’t come here in a long time.”
“Why today? Why with me?”
“I wanted to show you more of me,” he said, breaking his promise, catching her hand and lifting it to his mouth. He brushed his lips on her soft skin, feeling her shiver under his command, setting his own nerve endings into a spiral. When he let go of her hand, he noticed her fingers trembled. “You know, I’ve always been proud of keeping my word. I guess I just broke it.”
She winked at him. “Well, a kiss on the hand doesn’t count.”
He leaned closer, unable to keep from teasing her. “Where else doesn’t it count?”
She laughed, and the jovial, hearty sound made him chuckle. His body perked up, as if her presence alone released a dangerous amount of endorphins in his system.
They walked up to the cafe, and to his surprise, she went straight to dessert and skipped lunch. He ordered a sandwich, and they ate next to each other in the outdoor tables overlooking the lush greenery. She finished her vanilla and pistachio cone, glancing away from him, lost in thought.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
She used a paper napkin to wipe her mouth. “I don’t think your grandfather pretended to heal to not disappoint you. I can see how a walk in this place, when you’ve been in a dark place for so long, can help folks get a new perspective.”
A warm tingle formed in his chest and spread through him, fast-tracking all his cells. Maybe she was right. Maybe he’d helped his grandfather recover from loss. “Thanks.”
She nudged his elbow, smiling. “Don’t thank me. Nature has this re-invigorating power.”
He kissed the top of her head. “So do you, my love. So do you.”
Within minutes, he finished his sandwich, making mental plans to extend their day together. When his phone rang, he groaned. He should have silenced it, but right now curiosity won him over. Was it business related stuff? He couldn’t just shut the outside world, as much as he wanted to. He fished his cell out of his pocket, recognizing his brother’s name, and sighed. “Hello.”
“It’s Dad,” said Kostas. “He’s in the hospital. He had a heart attack.”
Chapter Fourteen
Amaya folded her arms. When Theo had insisted she accompany him to the hospital, she’d been confused. She wanted to be there for him, but at the same time, she hated to make his life more complicated.
She paced in the visitor’s waiting area, her gaze darting between the white walls and the door leading to the rooms. Maybe she didn’t know the man, but she’d lost both her parents. The images of her rushing through hospital hallways in search of her parents—only to learn they’d died—weighted on her heart and shoulders. Dios, she hated hospitals. They had taken away her sister, and her parents.
“Amaya,” Theo said. He sat in one of the chairs, but the stiffness of his shoulders and the blank stare in his eyes didn’t fool her. He was worried about his father. He’d been talking to a couple of doctors who popped in with updates as they worked on his father to make sure they kept him stable. But none of it removed the concern from his expression.
“I’m sorry. I feel so helpless. Is there anything I can do?” She stopped moving and came to his side. They still had on the casual workout shorts and shirts they’d worn for their Botanic Gardens visit. There hadn’t been time to change, anyway.
He held her hand and gave her a close-lipped smile. “You’re here. That’s enough.”
Her heart sang. She threaded her fingers with his, chastising herself for the pang of hope filling her chest. He’d said a month with her wasn’t enough before they had sex. Before she demanded he take her there and then. Now he enjoyed her presence during a hard time. Did any of this mean anything?
Perhaps I should call Madame Alexa. Though the idea of asking if any of her virgins ever had a happy ending with a buyer seemed beyond naive. Madame Alexa would probably laugh or say something condescending to put her in her place.
“Thanks,” he whispered, “for coming with me.”
She touched his forearm. “Of course.”
