by Ciar Cullen
He clutched her hand and led her across the plaza toward the waterfront.
Layla looked a little more relaxed. She pulled him into shops as she had done in Athens. Kevin felt a rush each time she took his hand.
“Come on, enough shopping.” He pulled her harder.
She laughed and gave up her lustful gaze at an emerald and gold necklace.
“Dinner, seaside, what say you?”
“I’m starving. Isn’t it a little early for dinner here?” She smiled at him and linked her arm in his.
Kevin waved off the aggressive welcoming gestures of a dozen maitre d’s to find a quiet corner table. He finally chose a small taverna at the end of the street. Their table looked out on the boats gently rocking to and fro, with blue-capped fishermen setting out for their night runs. The sun began losing its strength and started its slow path behind the low mountains across the bay.
“Magical. Absolutely magical.” Layla sighed.
“You seem to really appreciate your surroundings.”
Don’t look at her and you’ll be just fine. Shit.
***
“Are you going to order a feast for an army again?”
Layla looked at Kevin and smiled. He glanced up from his menu and their eyes locked.
And stayed locked.
Her heart stopped for a second. She saw him take in a quick breath. Oh my God, he’s unbelievable. And I’m falling in love with him. He ran his hand through his black hair, narrowed his bright blue eyes, and slowly shook his head. How am I going to get through this, make pretend last night didn’t count, that I don’t want him?
He looked serious.
“What’s wrong now?” Afraid to hear his answer, Layla felt her heart flutter.
“You’re a lot to look at, Layla Swann. An awful lot for a man to take in, to ignore. Sarah was right. I made a horrible mistake by bringing you along.”
No, no, no! You like how I look. One more night, please.
“Fine, then, send me home. Just write out the check first.”
Kevin pushed his chair away from the table and laced his fingers behind his neck. He regarded her, seriously, eyeing her lips, her breasts, letting his gaze linger. “Is that what you want? To go home, check in hand?”
“That would be fine.”
Kevin nodded and turned back to the menu. “That’s a shame.”
“Is it?” Layla heard the anger in her own voice. They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Why ‘wine-dark’ sea? Isn’t that what Homer called it?” Layla asked the air as if Kevin weren’t going to answer.
“We’ll ask my brother. I’m afraid my expertise doesn’t run to classical literature.” He stood and pulled out Layla’s chair, but didn’t reach for her hand. “We’ll grab something at the hotel, since this romantic evening seems to have come to an abrupt close.”
In silence, they roamed through the narrow cobbled streets, and then took a flight of narrow stairs to a higher street near their hotel. Kevin suddenly stopped and sat on the top step. Layla shrugged and joined him. The view of the town was spectacular.
Kevin looked at Layla. When he spoke, his voice was dark and soft.
“You’re killing me. Do you know how hard you’re making this?”
Her body screamed for him, for his touch, his tongue, his hands. She sighed in resignation. “I’m embarrassed, boss. It’s just what Sarah tried to warn me about. Everyone wants you, and no one gets you. And you’re very sorry to have done that to me. Is that it? You like flirting with the hired help but feel guilty once it works?”
He smiled and narrowed his eyes. He looked up from beneath his black lashes, then closed his eyes. His voice was a whisper. “Did I do that to you, Layla? Did my flirting work?”
“Based on last night, you could say you were fairly successful.”
“That’snot what I mean. I mean, have you started to…ummm…fancy me at all?”
“Fuck you and your ego! You wanted a one-night stand, you got one.”
Layla’s cheeks flushed with anger. She stood and stormed down the street toward their hotel. She listened for a moment at their door, then fumbled for her key and made her way inside.
After throwing her purse on the bed, she went to the balcony.
Kevin entered the room a few minutes later. He stood in the balcony doorway, arms folded across his chest. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“I made an ass of myself. Now I can’t dig out and you certainly won’t let me, I’m sure.”
“Actually, I’ll cut you a break. If you’ll do one thing.”
“What?”
“Tell me again how everyone wants me. And then tell me that you do.”
“Go to hell.” Layla tried to walk past him into the room, but he caught her around the waist. “Let me go.”
“Why would I do that?” He looked down at her, and she clutched at his arm. “Tell me, Layla.”
She sighed in resignation. “Why bother telling you? I handed you my goddamned phone number the first five minutes I knew you, remember? How the hell am I supposed to pretend I don’t want you?”
Kevin sighed in relief and smiled. “Tell me last night was good. I know, my ego. Please, just say it.”
“It was the most incredible one-night stand of my life.” She shook her head in dismay. “It was my only one-night stand. But it was incredible. There, satisfied?”
“Not nearly satisfied.” Kevin kissed her hard, desperately, and then held her to his chest. “Layla.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face so their eyes met. “Damn, this is hard.”
She waited.
“Is there any chance at all…that we could…”
“Make it a two-night stand?”
“No. Make it real. Because I have a horrible, hopeless crush on you, and two nights would never be enough. I don’t think two weeks is going to cut it, either. I’m thinking maybe two months is short.”
A tear escaped one of her eyes and made a slow path down her cheek. Kevin kissed it away. More tears followed, and he kissed those away as well.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded and continued crying.
Kevin lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He carefully put her down and smiled.
“You’re so handsome it hurts to look at you, Irish. You’re not pulling my leg?”
“I’m falling for you, Layla. And don’t pull my leg. I don’t do well with rejection.”
Kevin laughed and pulled off his clothes before he stripped her. He climbed up next to her, caressing her cheek and neck and breasts. Heat worked through Layla, and she touched him everywhere in return.
He groaned and moved on top of her, kissing her hungrily. “I don’t want to wait,” he hissed.
“Then don’t.”
Layla gasped at the feel of him, filling her, body and soul.
“We fit, Layla. Tell me we fit.” He began an achingly slow movement, in and out.
Layla shuddered and groaned. “Yes, Irish. We fit perfectly.”
Kevin brought his mouth onto hers and lifted her ass into the air with his strong arms, holding her aloft to angle better into her core. “Keep looking at me, Layla.” The dark blue pools of his eyes hazed over with pleasure. Layla caressed his cheek and ran her nails down his back as he continued his slow torture.
“I’ve never felt like this…”
“Tell me. Tell me how it feels.”
But it was too late. Layla tremored and arched, stars filling her vision as she cried his name. And still he wasn’t finished. He rolled onto his back and took her hand, leading her to her position. She lowered herself onto him and squeezed, caressing his cock with her tight wetness as she took him in.
Layla moved as slowly as he had, thoroughly, watching his eyes, letting her breasts fall to his mouth. He sucked at her nipples, and she felt the throbbing begin to course through him.
He shook and pulled her down on top of him, then whispered in her ear. “Don’t leave me, Lay
la. Please don’t leave me.”
And at the moment of his release, when he called her name, she felt a piercing burn in her shoulder, and wondered what had caused it.
Then she saw the blood drip onto Kevin’s chest. Qatar was back and she would die, just when she found the love of
her life.
She passed out in Kevin’s arms.
CHAPTER 5
Kevin stared horrified at the man aiming the gun at him—the man from the airport, the man in the square. He heard Layla’s shallow breathing and prayed the wound wasn’t as bad as it looked. He gently rolled her onto her side and pulled a sheet over her naked body, then pressed the blanket onto her wound to stop the bleeding.
“Stop moving. Now!”
“She may die.”
“That does not concern me.” The man motioned for Kevin to get up and dress.
Kevin wiped Layla’s blood off his chest and pulled on his pants, his mind racing. Greek, the accent was Greek. Robbery? No, this man wasn’t a thief. He was a killer. The silencer on the gun spoke volumes. His cold dark eyes watched Kevin’s every movement. Don’t let Layla die, please. I’ll give her up, but don’t let her die.
“Sit.” He motioned Kevin to a chair but remained standing, the gun never moving from its target.
“All right. What’s this about? Because nothing is worth Greek prison, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend. In fact, I am your sworn enemy. You have one chance to live, to save her. Tell me everything.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then I’ll enlighten you. My name is Kostas Ardros, and you are the mother-fucker who killed my brother. You are the man who betrayed him to the police.”
Kevin tried to keep his face void of emotion as he stole a glance at Layla. She moved slightly, but Kostas didn’t seem to notice. “Your brother is dead? How?”
“He could not face the shame. Now my family will live in shame for eternity. Where did you get your information about Niko’s business?”
“I didn’t give the government the information—they gave it to me. I swear!”
Kostas aimed the gun and Kevin squeezed his eyes shut. “You have one more chance. Name the man!”
Kevin tried desperately to think of a likely name as he heard the click of the chamber. He jumped at the pop, wondering why he didn’t feel the hit. Then he saw the blood seep onto Kostas’ white shirt. The man fell to the ground, dead.
“Layla!”
She dropped the gun to the floor and groaned.
“Honey, you’ll be okay, stay with me.” Kevin ran to her and pressed the blanket on her shoulder.
She nodded weakly.
“How did you…where was the gun?”
“You’re not very good at this stuff, are you, Irish?” She pointed under the mattress and fainted again.
***
Layla popped four painkillers and poured herself a Scotch, hoping they would numb more than her shoulder. His words rang in her ears, every hour, every night, Kevin Colin on the phone while she lay in the hospital bed next to him, telling his lover he’d be home…
“Oh baby, I’ve missed you so much. I can’t wait to hold you. I love you so much. Tomorrow, I’ll be home tomorrow.”
Layla had scrawled a note for Kevin and handed it to the nurse, who screamed at her in Greek and broken English not to check herself out of the hospital. In a day she was home. She had left a message on Sarah’s answering machine, resigning. And promptly unplugged her land line and silenced her cell phone.
The knock on the door kicked her in the gut. He wouldn’t dare. Her note had been explicit. “Do not contact me for any reason. I don’t want your money.”
Layla looked through the peephole and saw no one. Another knock and she looked out again. Still no one. Layla pulled her pistol from a nearby bookshelf and slowly opened the door. Nothing.
Until she looked down.
A little girl. A trick?
“Hello sweetie, what can I do for you?”
“Are you Miss Swann? My name is Molly Colin. I have a present for you.”
Layla ran to the window and looked onto the street to see Kevin leaning against his Porsche, arms across his chest, kicking at the sidewalk. The very sight of him made her cry. I’m so in love with you, you son of bitch. How could you send your daughter to do your dirty work?
Well, it wasn’t the girl’s fault.
Molly smiled shyly and held out a box. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself. You look an awful lot like your dad.”
“Do I? He thinks so, too!” Her dimples sprung to life and Layla’s heart lurched. Molly grabbed her hand. “Why are you crying? Daddy told me not to say anything, just to give you this. But he didn’t say you were a crybaby. He’s a crybaby, too.”
“Your dad is a crybaby?”
“Since he came back from his trip. He cried one night. I heard him. And then he got really, really mad and punched the wall. It scared me. Nanna said he was mad at a girl. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so. Your dad has another girl.”
She looked at Layla in an odd way. Then she shook her head. “I don’t think so. Daddy says I’m his only girl. He still calls me ‘baby.’ I’m not a baby anymore! But he never calls me Molly.”
“No, you’re very grown up—”
Baby? No…
“Molly, did your daddy call you from Greece?” “Uh huh, every day.”
“Do you remember the last time he called you? What day was that?”
“Um. I don’t know what day it was. But he had to talk really, really soft, because he was in the hospital with his girlfriend, he said. Oh, that’s right, he said he’d be ‘home tomorrow,’ so I guess it was…”
Layla stopped hearing her lovely babble. “Honey, who is your daddy’s girlfriend?”
She shrugged. “I guess maybe you are, aren’t you? You’re the one he keeps talking about to Nanna.” Molly looked frustrated as Layla began crying again. “You both are crybabies. Wait till I tell Daddy.” She pushed the package into Layla’s hand and rushed out the door.
Layla sat and nervously opened the gift-wrapped box. A note, and the emerald and gold necklace from Nafplion. She ran the strands through her fingers in awe, then unfolded the note and put her hand over her mouth.
Layla,
I don’t know what’s going on, but I couldn’t give up without one last try. I’m relieved you’re all right. I checked—the men who took you in Qatar have been dead a good three months, so hopefully you’ll stop looking over your shoulder. I’m so damned sorry I lied about Ardros. You wouldn’t have been shot if we’d come home when we could. But I needed another chance with you. That sounds so stupid now, but at the time, it was all I could think about. But I lied, and there’s no good excuse. I don’t blame you for hating me.
But let’s get something straight. There isn’t anyone else; hasn’t been for a long, long time. I didn’t lie about that. Anyway, here’s a gift. I saw you look at it in Nafplion. Layla, all I can say is, I would have given you the world. But then, my world comes with strings attached, and you just met the biggest one. Maybe that wouldn’t work for you. My Baby is the biggest part of my world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry you resigned, and if you need help finding work, please call Sarah. We’ll do anything for you. And please change your mind about the check.
I guess that’s it. You know where I work—ha ha. If you ever want a friend, well, maybe I could try. But I’m in love with you, and I probably wouldn’t make a very good pal right now.
K.
***
“Hi, Miss Swann. How are you feeling?” Spencer was as chipper as the first day Layla had met him, tapping his pencil against his desk, looking at her with a welcoming grin.
“I’m fine, Spence.” She nodded toward Kevin’s office door. “In?” He nodded. “I’ll announce you.”
“No, don’t. It’s a surprise vis
it.”
“It is you, then? Sarah hinted you were the one who put him in this funk.”
“I’m going to try to lift the funk, so cut me a break.” Spence nodded and whispered, “Good luck.”
Layla struggled with two cups of coffee and the door handle.
Spence started to get up, but she motioned him away. “I told you not to disturb me.”
Kevin’s uncharacteristic snarl made Layla stop cold.
“Spence?” He swung around in his chair and gasped, then got up and took one of the cups from her hand.
“Hope it’s how you like it, Irish.”
He nodded uncertainly and took a sip.
Layla sat in the chair across from his. “I have a proposal, boss. Please don’t speak until I’m finished.”
“Okay, shoot.” He winced. “No pun intended. How is the shoulder, by the way?”
“It’s nothing. I’ve had worse self-inflicted wounds.” She smiled.
“All right, now you’re changing the subject. Let me finish.” Her smile faded and she looked into her lap.
“You’re wearing the necklace.”
“Yes, it’s an exquisite gesture. I love it. Now shut up.” She breathed deeply and the words spilled out in a rush. “I made a horrible mistake and thought you were talking to your girlfriend instead of Molly. I’m so sorry, I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly…haven’t been in a long time. I fell for you and after the shooting…”
He rushed around the desk, pulling her to her feet. Layla thought he’d squeeze the breath out of her.
“Again…say it again.”
“What?”
Kevin pushed her away and looked into her eyes. He gently brought down his mouth onto hers, whispering her name. “You fell in love with me? Don’t pull my leg, Layla, because I’ve been dying a slow death these last days without you.”
She smiled and brushed his cheek. “I want my job back, Irish.”
“Done.”
“And I’d like to get to know you better.”
“My pleasure.”