Her Greek Romance aka Greek Encounter

by Risk, Mona

  Her nervous movements stilled and she braced herself against his attempt at kindness. He’d been so eager to leave her alone last night. “There was no need to bring you out of your way.”

  “You know I would have been happy to do it.” The scowl on his forehead lent a stern expression to his face as he kept studying her, and then shook his head. “Were you really going to read this letter?” He pointed an accusing finger at the chest. “A letter addressed to another woman, years ago?”

  “Huh.” He’d caught her red-handed, holding a personal letter addressed to his own grandmother. She couldn’t explain her reasons for touching the old sheet of paper with faded ink. It had been a spontaneous gesture, an urge to finger that love symbol, and a longing that one of these love letters could bring her luck.

  The ridicule of him questioning her overcame her embarrassment. She lowered her gaze toward the mass of papers in the chest. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Care to explain?” Looming above her, with his feet-apart stance and his high stature, he crossed his arms and arched an arrogant eyebrow.

  Dang, she was still on her knees, in front of the wooden coffer, but also at his feet, looking as guilty as sin, with her cheeks probably redder than ripe beets. The temperature in the little house turned ten degrees higher. A hiss escaped her. Cursing her tight skirt and high heels, she tried to straighten up. He stretched a hand to help her. She ignored it and leaned back on the sofa to scramble up.

  “My grandfather called me this morning. You see, he had me bring this carry-on all the way from Boston. It contains the letters of his dear Elena. Grandpa instructed me to take them to the Pink Villa and read them. He insisted you should read them too.” She unzipped the piece of luggage and waved to the piles of envelopes cluttering the carry-on. “Unfortunately, he’s not as organized as your grandmother.”

  Stefano’s gaze flipped from the carry-on to the chest. Disbelief widened his eyes, soon replaced by worry, and then denial. “You can’t expect me to read my grandmother’s love letters. Letters not even addressed to my own grandfather.”

  “There must be beautiful stories in here.” With a hopeful smile, she reached into the carry-on and took an envelope.

  “Ashley, don’t. It would be sacrilege to expose their secrets. Their past belongs to them.”

  “Grandpa wants me to read one of his and then one of hers, and pass them to you as I read them. Knowing how much he loved his Elena, he wouldn’t have asked me to do it, if he thought it would have upset her.”

  “This is ridiculous. Call him again.”

  She understood his reluctance and punched her grandfather’s number. “Grandpa, Elena’s grandson is here with me at the Pink Villa.”

  “Wonderful.” The old man’s voice resonated loud and clear. Stefano smiled and Ashley frowned.

  “Oh well, I don’t understand what’s so wonderful. I thought—”

  “Let me talk to him, little one. I’ll tell him one of his grandmother’s last wishes.”

  With a sigh, Ashley handed the phone to Stefano who politely greeted her grandfather in Greek, and finally said in English. “If you say so, sir. I’ll read my Yaya’s letters and yours. Thank you, sir. I can’t wait to see you here.”

  It was Ashley’s turn to shake her head. Greek men knew how to confuse her. Both Stefano and her grandfather often didn’t act as expected. “Well?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, but we’ll do as our grandparents wanted.” He glanced at the carry-on. “These are in such a mess. How about sorting my Yaya’s letters by date before reading them?”

  He hoisted the carry-on onto the burgundy couch. They settled on either side and began digging through the mess. “Throw the envelopes on the floor. We’ll pick them up later.” They stacked the letters on the coffer, forming neat piles by decades, and then organizing them by years.

  Two hours later, Stefano moved the piles back into the carry-on and set it open on the floor, next to the chest. “Here is the first packet of Yorgho’s letters.”

  Ashley picked her first letter to read. “This is the one he wrote after he left.” A long declaration of undying love, words of hope, dreams of happiness filled the pages and squeezed her heart.

  Would she ever meet a man who could love her with such fervor? Maybe Stefano would be able to learn a thing or two on how to be loyal to the woman of his heart. If only she could be that woman. Wishful thinking.

  “Here, your turn.” She handed him the blue sheet, and took Elena’s first letter.

  “Oh, my God, this is so sad.” She reached for another of Elena’s letters, and then a third and a fourth. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she wiped them with the back of her hand. “Life sucks. How could her father treat her like that?”

  Without a word, Stefano read the letters Ashley gave him. Together, they relived the sad separation of the young lovers; Elena’s cries of desperation; Yorgho’s threat to come back and snatch her away; the young woman’s resignation when she found herself pregnant; her love for her unborn child. “I can’t believe they forced her to marry another man when she loved Yorgho so much.” Ashley reached for a tissue and blew her nose.

  Stefano didn’t comment but she could see that he, too, was shaken. When she read about Elena’s miscarriage and Yorgho’s terrible pain at losing their baby, Ashley couldn’t contain her sobbing.

  “Don’t cry, please. It’s in the past.” Stefano gathered her in his arms and held her against him, gently stroking her hair.

  “You see, he never abandoned her as you all accused him.”

  “We owe him a public apology.” At least, Stefano didn’t shy about admitting his mistakes. “Sweetheart, it’s three in the afternoon. I’ll order gyro for a late lunch here. Or we can go to the Athena to spend the afternoon as was my original plan for today.”

  “I don’t want to go on your yacht again.”

  “I was hoping to erase the bad memories of your first time there.” His sad smile matched the mood of the moment and made her sigh.

  “Bad memories?” How could he label the most beautiful night of her life bad memories? Her heart heavy, she dropped her gaze to the chest. Why couldn’t he be more like the young Yorgho who adored his Elena?

  “Isn’t that the reason you don’t want to step on my Athena? Because you’re convinced I tricked you?”

  “You’ve already told me you regretted tricking me. I believed you.” She moved out of his arms and stood. “But I just can’t step on that boat again.” A new flow of tears wet her face. The emotion they’d just shared had melted her usual poise.

  “Ashley, what’s going on?” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him and nuzzled her neck.

  “Please, enough.”

  “Why? A week ago we made a deal to keep our feelings in check until after the first phase is over. Now is the happy time to resume the little scene we started on the table. Remember?” he whispered against her ear.

  “You don’t have to force yourself.”

  “What?” He turned her around to face him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Last night you couldn’t wait to dump me in my room. Alone.”

  “Ashley, you were tired, sleepy, and drunk. I wasn’t going to take advantage of you in that pitiful shape.”

  “Oh.” How had she forgotten he could be a perfect gentleman and even control his passion?

  His eyebrows arched. A slow smile replaced his serious expression. “Did you really resent me for leaving you alone last night?”

  “And now, you want to erase the memories we have on the Love Boat?”

  “Love Boat, it is.” His smile broadened. “Kookla mou, you just made me a very happy man.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “You’ve just convinced me that you didn’t resent our first night on the yacht. I loved it too, in spite of my remorse for hiding the truth about my identity.” He gave her a strange look, his eyes shining with tenderness.

  Was she f
ooling herself? Could Stefano be her special Greek?

  His smile faded, but the fire of his gaze ignited a stronger one in her insides. When his mouth came closer, she put two fingers on his lips and chuckled. “If we start kissing, we won’t be done for a long time.”

  “You can bet on it.”

  “Order something easy to eat while we continue reading.”

  She pulled him next to her on the couch. He stretched an arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled against his side, wishing that the love story they were reading would rub on them —with a better ending.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  They had hardly stopped their reading to eat the gyro sandwiches and drink a cup of coffee. Stefano caught his breath, dazzled by the sweetness of Ashley’s smile. He’d spent a good part of last night trying to understand her shifts of mood from calculating lawyer to passionate lover. Who was the real Ashley? The aggressive attorney who attacked him in court or the warm woman who had writhed in his arms?

  And now she’d just revealed a new facet to her personality. A dreamy girl longing to read love letters, and sobbing at the fateful ordeal of two wretched lovers. His heart squeezed with tenderness as he tried to analyze the gentle curl of her lips and the brightness of her gaze.

  How would she react if he sent her a letter? He almost scoffed. As if he’d ever do such a thing. Love letters didn’t figure on his catalog of niceties to offer an attractive woman. But kisses and passion... Kookla mou, I can kiss you till you scream in passion. And Ashley loved his kisses, he thought with a sigh of relief as he brushed her forehead with his lips.

  But Ashley pulled away, waving a new letter. “Imagine, in this one, she reminds him that now she’s a married woman, planning to remain faithful to her vows. Even in thoughts. And she urges him to think of her as his best friend. No more mention of the past. Forget the happy moments and the sad tragedy. What an amazing woman. No wonder he loved her so much.”

  “You’re amazing too.”

  A pretty blush colored her cheeks. “Aw, thank you, Stefano.” She passed him the sheet of paper she was holding and chose another missive, one written by Yorgho. “Oh, and he accepted right away, saying, I can’t let you slip out of my life. If I can’t have you for wife or lover, I’ll keep you as a dear friend. Your honor is safe, dearest Elena. Even in writing. Yorgho was a special Greek who gave unconditional love. There aren’t too many like him anymore.” She shook her head and kept reading.

  Stefano scowled, a muscle ticking at his jaw. In her opinion, he didn’t measure up to her grandfather. What would it take to become a special Greek for her?

  A sigh of exasperation escaped him. His companion didn’t even notice, too engrossed in her reading. He grabbed a different packet from the carry-on, one labeled 1980 to 1990, and skimmed the pages. Mr. Zanis had written about his daughter’s life, her wedding, the birth of Baby Ashley. Suddenly interested, Stefano concentrated on his reading. “What a jerk,” he later exclaimed.

  “Who, Grandpa?” Ashley raised a horrified gaze toward him.

  “No, your father. I’m sorry, I didn’t know he abandoned you and your mother when you were only four.”

  “We went to live in my grandfather’s big house, almost a mansion. When my mother remarried, Grandpa insisted I remain with him. Anyway, I didn’t want to live with my stepfather.”

  “You didn’t have an easy childhood.” Stefano studied her face. He’d been surrounded by a large, noisy, close-knit family, where every member loved each relative. How had Ashley managed to turn into the bright, balanced lawyer she was now, after growing up in a broken home?

  “But grandpa was always there for me. He made time to talk to me, explain what was good or bad. Even when I was only five, he treated me like a mature person.”

  By Zeus, his former enemy sounded like a paragon of virtues. No wonder Ashley had sharpened her claws to defend her dear grandfather.

  “I understand now why you love him so much.”

  An unbearable need to hold and protect her shook Stefano to the core. She sat next to him, lovely and so desirable in her green printed dress that hiked to mid-thigh. The little piece of cotton could be easily slipped off her pliant body. One of the straps slipped down her shoulder, tantalizing him. Lust stormed to his groin. Slowly, he leaned toward her. His lips parted, ready to close on her mouth.

  “Well, but you were a handful according to your Yaya.” Unaware of the tornado hitting his senses, Ashley kept reading, and smiled, and chuckled.

  Straightening, he held himself in check. His head felt heavy with indecision, guilt, apprehension. Yes, he could make love to her right here on this couch, make her scream in ecstasy. But did he have the right to play with her feelings?

  Ashley had been dwelling in his heart ever since he’d spotted her on the beach. He suppressed a tender smile at the picture of the shy redhead, glancing right and left before unclasping her bikini top.

  To think of it, he liked her there, in his heart, in his mind, next to him. And especially in his arms. Following his own trail of thoughts, he gently rubbed her arm.

  “Oh, Stefano, this is so funny.” With a bright smile, she waved another missive. “Your Yaya wrote that you jumped from one balcony to another to escape from the locked room where your father grounded you. Did you always try to get your own way? Ever since you were a kid?”

  The hell with the letters. Wrong time to sink into the couch and make love. Throwing a jaundiced glance at the coffer, he clenched his fists. Sure enough, she’d accuse him of trying to get his own way.

  As a staunch Greek he believed in destiny. He lifted a packet written by Elena in one hand and a bunch of papers covered with Yorgho’s handwriting in the other. He stared at them while he brought the two packets against each other. Two lovers who believed in commitment. His whole family had hated Zanis for years because they thought the old man had dishonored and abandoned young Elena. While all the time, the man had loved her more than any woman would dream to be loved. As he loved Ashley, Stefano thought.

  By Zeus, had he said love?

  Love as in commitment and marriage?

  With a big sigh, he dropped the letters on the coffer and wrapped an arm around her back. She snuggled against him. Innocently comfortable and trusting.

  No, they couldn’t continue to play with love. Not him. He came from a family who deeply believed in honor and commitment.

  “Ashley.” His husky voice surprised him, and her too, as she turned her head toward him and raised her eyebrows.

  “What’s wrong? You look strange.”

  He scowled, lowered his head. Help me, Yaya. His lips pursed to a straight line. He stared at the beautiful woman sitting so close to him.

  “Stefano, are you in pain?” She cupped his cheeks. “Tell me.”

  “Not in pain. In love.”

  “Pardon?”

  It was his turn to cradle her face. “I love you, my Ashley.” His grimace eased into a smile.

  “You lo...” Her hands dropped to her lap and her eyes widened with surprise and confusion. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded vigorously. “Very serious.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’ll tell you a secret. I didn’t think I would say this to a woman for a long time. Especially not the American lawyer who was determined to attack me.”

  “Oh, Stefano.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, a tender kiss that turned passionate.

  He pulled her on his lap and invaded her mouth. His hands caressed her nape, stroked her back, and squeezed her buttocks as she squirmed against him. He knew it. God, he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Why even try?

  ****

  Ashley pulled away to breathe. “Please, say it again. I want to be sure I’m not dreaming.”

  He chuckled. “Wait.” He moved her off his lap to the couch.

  Was he having second thoughts? A lump formed in her throat while she watched him sprint to the small room. Her fingers laced in her lap. Dear Lord, let him say it again. Froz
en in place, unable to move or breathe, she pressed her knuckles. Let it be true.

  A few minutes later, he came back holding an envelope. “Open this letter.” He handed it to her.

  Anxiety burned her stomach. “What’s that?”

  Rocking on his heels, he shot her a bone-melting smile. “Just another letter you have to read.”

  She sucked in a big gulp of air and tore the side of the envelope to pull free a blue sheet with a new handwriting. Her eyes flew to the signature. Dimitri Stefano Alexios Kostapoulos. His whole complicated name. She glanced up from the letter. “What does it mean?”

  “Just read, please.”

  She did and her eyes filled with tears.

  My beloved Ashley,

  I LOVE YOU. Yes, I love you and I want to be your special Greek.

  Would you marry me and make me a very happy man?

  Dimitri Stefano Alexios Kostapoulos, who will always adore you.

  “Oh my God, oh my God. It’s true then.”

  “Yes, my love. I wanted you to have your own letter.”

  “I’ll keep it forever. Stefano, I love you so much.”

  “But you haven’t answered the question?”

  “The question?”

  “There’s a question waiting to be answered in this letter.”

  “Oh. “ She chuckled as she took a pen and wrote in capital letters: I LOVE YOU AND WILL MARRY YOU.

  He gathered her in his arms. “Ashley, my love, I have another question. More of an invitation. I want to take you out for dinner. On the Athena. What do you say?”

  “Yes, let’s go build more lovely memories.” She untangled herself from his arms and started rearranging the letters. “We need to clean up the mess we made.”

  “Not now. We have more urgent things to do.” He winked at her with that smile that had her heart fluttering. “Besides, it will take us a few more days to finish reading all the letters.”

  Taking her hand, he urged her to the door. “I’ll ask Mikhali to have a gardener clean the yard today. Careful about the thorns.”