Broken Together

by K. S. Ruff

  “That dress matches your eyes perfectly.” He traced the deep V between my breasts. His fingers dipped beneath the material as he began kissing my neck. “The villa is less than eight miles from the airport.”

  “Thank God,” I breathed. My body was already pinging with need.

  Rafael kissed my jaw, my chin, and lips before releasing me. He zipped the suitcase and set it back inside the closet.

  I stepped inside the bathroom to brush my teeth. I freed my hair from the bobby pins and finger combed the curls before joining Rafael in the main cabin.

  Kari handed me a bottled water. “Please fasten your seatbelt. We’ll be landing shortly.”

  The wheels touched down twenty minutes later. I remained glued to the window. “How can the water be so blue? And all those white washed buildings... Oh my God. It’s so beautiful.”

  Rafael laughed. “We could jump in the water and touch the buildings if only you were willing to step off the plane.”

  A silver Mercedes convertible sat idling in front of the airport. A man with a clipboard was leaning against the car. Rafael signed the documents attached to the clipboard. The man examined Rafael’s driver’s license before handing him an envelope. He waved politely, then sauntered away.

  Rafael set our luggage in the back seat while I climbed into the car. He slid behind the wheel, pulled a piece of paper from the envelope, and typed an address into the GPS. “Ready?”

  I was too busy gawking at everything to reply.

  “Mrs. Garcia,” he murmured silkily.

  “Yes?” My cheeks heated when my nipples pebbled beneath the dress.

  “I really like this dress.” His fingers dipped beneath the hem.

  My legs clenched. “How long does it take to drive eight miles in Santorini?”

  “Twenty minutes according to the GPS.” His hand lingered on my thigh when he pulled away from the curb.

  I cursed all those needy little hormones wreaking havoc on my girlie parts. “I’ll never make it that long.”

  “Michaela Residence is not far.” Rafael chuckled. “While there are houses nearby, the villa is positioned on the hillside in a way that ensures privacy. You can sunbathe naked if you like.”

  I wondered whether I was capable of such a thing.

  “The villa has a spectacular view of Akrotiri, the volcano, and the Aegean Sea,” Rafael continued. “I’ve arranged for a personal chef to visit the villa once a day. He’s already prepared our evening meal and stocked the refrigerator with items for breakfast and lunch tomorrow. He should be gone by the time we arrive.”

  My stomach growled at the thought of food. “That sounds wonderful.”

  “I’m a little worried about the volcano,” Rafael admitted. “Santorini experienced a few small earthquakes recently. The volcano hasn’t erupted since 1950, but there is some concern it could become active again.”

  “I would have preferred to remain oblivious about that.” I pulled my wind whipped hair away from my face and tied it into a knot at the base of my neck.

  “We’ll leave if they experience any tremors this week,” Rafael assured me. He shifted into a lower gear before turning onto a steep, narrow road.

  “How?” I wondered aloud. Brent and Kari were flying back to Portugal so they could take our friends and family back to the United States. We weren’t expecting them to return until the end of the week.

  Rafael turned right. The Mercedes hugged the hillside. “I’ve located a helicopter and a pilot who can fly us to Athens if need be.”

  I breathed a small sigh of relief. “I swear, you think of everything.”

  He flashed a quick smile before studying the GPS.

  All thoughts of earthquakes and volcanoes disappeared when he pulled alongside the white washed villa that would serve as our home for the next eight days. The house was sandwiched between a scenic lookout and another white washed house, but a white privacy fence framed the courtyard on either side.

  Rafael retrieved our luggage before opening my door. “Mrs. Garcia.” He bowed while offering me his hand.

  “Mr. Garcia.” I placed my hand in his, infinitely more enamored with the man holding my hand than the villa behind him.

  We walked toward the house hand in hand. Rafael unlocked the door and set the luggage inside before whisking my legs out from under me. “Technically, this isn’t our home, but I’m still carrying you over the threshold.”

  I kissed him affectionately while wrapping my arms around his neck. My eyes widened when I saw the stark white walls, the white washed open beam ceiling, white couches with thick white throw pillows, and filmy white curtains tied in knots against the windows and the sliding glass doors. Massive white lanterns held thick white candles on either side of the sliding glass doors. The blond wood coffee table and beige floor tile offered the only hint of color, aside from the artwork. “I’ve never seen so much white in my entire life.”

  Rafael stopped in front of the sliding glass doors. The courtyard held a pool and a pergola which sat between the pool and a stone wall. Filmy white curtains were tied at all four corners against stone columns. Three white couches and a white coffee table sat beneath the pergola. The sapphire blue Aegean Sea sparkled beneath the evening sun. “Let’s eat outside.” Slowly, he allowed my feet to touch the tile.

  “Dinner smells delicious.” I followed him past a large dining room table. Blond wood formed the tabletop, but the legs were painted with white milk paint like the chairs. A large chandelier with white lanterns and clear crystals hung above the table. A white framed mirror and a massive bouquet of flowers adorned a matching buffet. The dining room was three parts dreamy, seven parts shabby chic.

  A large galley style kitchen opened into a second, more casual dining room. White washed cupboards, sandy brown countertops, and modern appliances defined the kitchen. Rafael reached for the oven mitts.

  I read the slip of paper sitting next to the wine. “Dinner: corn flour bread; a variety of olives; fresh tomato, onion, and herb salad; grilled Barbounia; fried potatoes; and Loukoumades for dessert. For breakfast tomorrow morning: croissants, ham, salami, cheese, fresh melon, yogurt, and honey. For lunch tomorrow: Horiatiki Salata, hearty wheat bread, and tahini. Kalí óreksi, Chef Loukas.”

  Rafael pulled a platter from the oven. He set it on top of the stove. The platter was loaded with small red fish and seasoned potatoes. “The oven is still warm, so we’ll leave dessert in there for now.” He retrieved the bread.

  I peeked inside the oven. “I assume the Barbounia is fish, but what kind of dessert is Loukoumades?”

  “You have always been a dessert first kind of girl,” he teased. “Loukomades are doughnuts served with cinnamon and honey.”

  “Ah. So that’s why the honey is sitting on the counter.” I retrieved two bottled waters, the olives, and tomato salad from the refrigerator. “This fresh tomato salad looks really good.” I wasn’t sure about the fish. I was creeped out by the fact their heads and eyes were still intact.

  Rafael grabbed the plates, silverware, and cloth napkins from the counter.

  I followed him through the living room and out into the courtyard so we could eat beneath the pergola. “Look! The sun is starting to set.” The white washed buildings of Santorini were bathed in orange and pink, but the Aegean Sea remained a soft blue color, which contrasted nicely against the orange and pink sky.

  He set the dishes on the coffee table. “That view is breathtaking.”

  I placed the olives and drinks beside the plates so I could wrap my arms around him. “Thank you for choosing this place.”

  Rafael released the knot from my hair. He lifted my chin and pressed his lips to mine. He took his time, savoring me like a fine wine. With kiss swollen lips and dreamy eyes we gazed at one another, husband and wife.

  “I love you so much it hurts.” Tears pricked at my eyes.

  “I know,” he whispered. “I’m afraid my heart will stop beating if you wander too far.”

  We fell
into a timeless embrace. The pain in my chest eased when I felt his heart beat against mine. Eventually, we retrieved the remaining food. A soft breeze tugged at the bound curtains. The curtains were so romantic, I released them.

  Rafael lit the candles on the coffee table while I dished food onto our plates. “I cannot imagine a more peaceful place.”

  “This view reminds me of Saint-Tropez.” I sighed contentedly.

  He sampled the olives while pondering the sea. “We should visit Saint-Tropez before we return to the United States.”

  “I agree.” A small moan played on my lips when I tried the cherry tomatoes. “You have to taste the tomato salad. I swear, these are the best tomatoes I’ve ever eaten.” I speared a tomato and offered him my fork.

  He chewed, thoughtfully. “You’re right. That’s the best tomato I’ve ever eaten.”

  I popped another one inside my mouth. The deep red tomatoes tasted earthy and sweet. “Would you like some wine?”

  “I’d rather wait and share the wine with you.” He piled a few more tomatoes onto his plate.

  I nabbed an olive. “Are we taking wine back to Portugal with us?”

  Rafael nodded. “We’ll take the wine the chef selects for us and purchase a few more bottles before returning to Portugal. That way, we can experience Santorini’s wines together, after the baby is born.”

  I nestled closer. “That sounds wonderful.”

  Quietly, we enjoyed the main course. The fish was buttery and sweet, although neither of us could bring himself to eat the head or the tail. By the time we finished eating the warm cinnamon and honey laced doughnuts, the moon and the stars had replaced the sun.

  The breeze tugged at the filmy white curtains until they hid the sea. Still, the moon and the stars shone through the pergola, casting striped shadows across our bodies.

  Rafael pulled me onto his lap. His fingers clenched my hips when I straddled his waist. We both groaned when the telltale bulge in his jeans pressed between my legs. “Wife,” he growled.

  His possessive tone shot through my very core. Desire pooled deep and low while goose bumps pricked my skin. “Husband,” I answered in an equally possessive tone.

  His eyes heated when I moved my hips. The muscles in his shoulders bunched while he removed his shirt. “I need to feel your skin.”

  My fingers caressed his abdomen and chest before tangling in his hair. My fists clenched. “Kiss me,” I demanded. My lips slanted over his.

  Rafael licked the cinnamon from my lips before diving deep inside my mouth. He stroked and teased my tongue while I basked in his seduction. My eyes slid closed. He trailed wet, erotic kisses along my jaw… behind my ear… down my neck.

  Something warm and sticky spilled between my breasts. My eyes flew open. “Honey?” My nipples hardened even more.

  Rafael lapped at the sugary sweet nectar while forcing the dress over my head. He drizzled honey over my breasts.

  My back arched against his warm tongue while I shivered beneath his cool breath. Still, I needed more.

  I freed him from his zipper.

  He tore my thong.

  With a honey infused kiss, he thrust. We both stilled. I could feel him throbbing inside of me, already nearing release. He deepened the kiss. One hand teased my breast. The other held my hip. Slowly, he rocked.

  My entire body clenched. I anchored myself against the back of the couch. He drove deep inside of me. Rafael swelled, stretching and demanding more with every thrust. Our bodies crested like the Aegean Sea.

  My fingernails lanced his back when I began to climax. With a growl, he spilled inside of me. My body quivered, relishing the heat.

  The sheer white curtains shifted erratically in the breeze.

  * * * * *

  Rafael’s hands bracketed my tummy. The chef was due to arrive any minute, but he showed no interest in getting dressed. We’d spent the entire day sleeping, eating, and making love. Rafael was determined to prove his theory that the baby enjoyed our lovemaking. Why? Because the baby kicked, elbowed, or rolled every time we stopped. I suspected the baby liked being jostled about and would react the same way if I were jogging and suddenly stopped. I made no attempt to prove my theory because sex was infinitely more fun than jogging.

  Rafael laughed. “Did you feel that? He did it again!”

  “I did.” Feeling a baby move inside your tummy was one of the most amazing experiences in the world. I placed my hands on top of his. “Let’s take a bath.”

  Rafael lifted his head. He garnered my attention every time he moved because he was the only dark object in the room. The giant four poster bed was surrounded by soft white curtains. All of the bed linens were white. The throw pillows were white… the walls were white… the furniture was white… the lamps, the candles… everything was white. The only other splashes of color were the clear blue sky and the azure blue sea peeking through the window.

  The window was open so we could hear the waves. The beach was only two blocks away. The sheer white curtains framing the window were dancing in the breeze.

  “The bath?” I repeated.

  Rafael tore his eyes from my breasts. “You stay here and relax. I’ll fill the bathtub.” He pushed off the bed and strode into the bathroom.

  I smiled. Rafael had been doting on me all day. He served breakfast and lunch before spoiling me with a long, luxurious massage.

  I wrapped a sheet around me, lured by the only remaining color in the room. I was surprised there wasn’t a screen or a protective rail around the window. My head rested against the tall white frame while I surveyed the landscape below.

  A fat little house sparrow was perched on top of the pergola to the left of the window. He carried a small twig inside his mouth. He ducked beneath the pergola, stashed the twig inside a nest, and flitted off.

  I thought about the little brown sparrow I’d seen in Ukraine, the one with the broken wing. I doubted he would survive. I wondered if he thought the same of me.

  The baby elbowed me.

  I rubbed my tummy. “Missing your daddy already?”

  Rafael’s broad chest warmed my back. He wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my belly affectionately. “Of course he does.”

  I leaned into him, savoring the heat. “You’re nesting.”

  He chuckled softly. “Why do you say that?”

  “The renovations,” I answered.

  He rested his chin on my shoulder. “What do you want to do about the baby’s room?” He’d been toying with the idea of converting his bedroom into a nursery and a playroom. All we had to do was knock out part of the wall separating our bedrooms, extend the hallway, and insert new walls and bedroom doors along the newly formed hallway. The bedrooms would be a little smaller because part of the space would be used for the hallway. Not that it mattered. Our bedrooms were huge. A five foot strip wasn’t going to make a whole lot of difference.

  “I think we should proceed with the structural changes, but I don’t want to decorate or furnish that room until after the baby is born.” I couldn’t bear to see the same devastated look on Rafael’s face that I’d seen on Michael’s face when he walked by that empty nursery.

  Rafael twined his fingers with mine before pulling me away from the window. “Where will the baby sleep while we’re decorating his room?”

  “In a bassinette near our bed.” I dropped the sheet on the bed on our way to the bathroom.

  Rafael helped me up the stairs leading into the large garden style tub. The stairs, the tub, and the adjoining shower flaunted a swirling blue faux finish that mimicked the ocean. Recessed lighting and thick white candles lined the edge of the privacy wall. A large white seashell sat in the corner, next to a white basket filled with toiletries and face cloths.

  I groaned when I sank into the steamy water. “This feels heavenly.”

  Rafael stepped in behind me. “Can we swap my bed for yours?”

  “Sure.” I knew how he loved that bed. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a six b
edroom house.” Rafael was using one of his bedrooms as a weight room. Still, that left us with three guestrooms.

  “They poured our new steps and installed the front door today. We have one main entrance now. Our old doors were replaced with windows, which were installed yesterday.” The contractor was texting updates.

  “So there’s one large foyer and two staircases leading to the top floor,” I recounted.

  “The stairs have been modified so they curve and meet at the top.” Rafael poured body wash into his hand. Slowly he lathered my arms, chest, and back.

  “I’m glad we don’t have to make any changes to the other bedrooms.” I was still trying to envision the new layout for the ground floor. According to the blue prints, we were keeping both offices on opposite ends of the foyer. We had two formal living rooms and two family rooms between us. Rafael was planning to turn the formal living room on his side of the house into a billiards room. His family room was being converted into a theater room with three elevated rows of black leather recliners. We were keeping both kitchens. Rafael felt the theater needed a kitchen. But we were knocking out the wall between our dining rooms so we could entertain more guests.

  Rafael poured more soap into his hand. “We’re going to need those bedrooms. Brady and Jase may never leave after they see the theater and game room.”

  I laughed. “Brady asked me to call and play the Doppler over the phone when we return to Portugal. Those two are as enamored with this little guy as you are. Kadyn too.”

  His hands slid lovingly toward my tummy. “Maybe I should buy the townhome next to mine.”

  * * * * *

  “Do you want to enroll in a childbirth class in Lisbon or Alexandria?” I studied Rafael in a sidelong glance. We were walking back to the villa after exploring Akrotiri Town.

  Rafael slowed. “There’s a class?”

  I laughed at the stunned expression on his face.

  “What do they teach in this class?” he inquired worriedly.