That night, Ellie had wonderfully vivid dreams. She awoke feeling rested and excited about what the new day would bring.
“You look radiant this morning,” Nik said, smiling at Ellie over a light breakfast. “Pleasant dreams?”
She sipped her coffee and smiled. “Very,” she answered, though just saying that much felt as if she was imparting a great secret.
Ellie told no one of her dreams, not ever. They were too personal, too contrary to the sensible, competent PA she was. But, as Nikolaos continued to regard her with a patient, expectant expression, she felt compelled to say something.
“I think being here is having an effect on me,” she admitted shyly.
He smiled. “I don’t doubt it. Hellas is an ancient and magical land. She calls to the souls of those she deems worthy.”
Even though Ellie didn’t believe for one moment that he was being literal, his words sent ribbons of warmth through her. Being in Greece clearly affected him, too. He had been nothing but kind, complimentary, and generous. Maybe there really was a bit of magic here, after all.
“Tell me, Ellie, what visions has she chosen to show you?”
“Oh,” she said, feeling suddenly foolish. “Nothing. It was nothing.” Describing the exceptionally clear and realistic dream she’d had to her boss over excellently prepared omelets was not something she was willing to do.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. You are in a land famous for oracular prophecies.”
His lips quirked in a devastatingly sexy manner, and for a moment, her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or having a bit of fun with her. She thought she had mastered her boss’s moods and tells, but she was at a loss when it came to this playful, easy-going Nikolaos Deimos doppelgänger.
In the dream, she had been living among the Muses in an Eden-like garden on Mount Elikonas, where she was a favored handmaiden of the head muse, Kalliope, who had just returned from a trip to Olympus. She had confided to Ellie that she would be rewarded by the gods for her years of unwavering, faithful service.
Ellie didn’t recall much more after that, but she did remember feeling unworthy of such a great gift. That was a feeling she was more than familiar with.
To Nikolaos, she said, “Nothing quite as grand as that, I’m afraid. Just vague dreams inspired by the murals and sculptures from the restaurant; that’s all.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, looking thoughtful. “Apollo and the Mousai. Yes, I can see that.” He nodded, as if that made sense. “The muses are quite inspiring.”
Inspiring was one way to put it.
“So, what is on the agenda today?” she asked, changing the subject.
He frowned slightly, as if he wanted to continue the conversation, then he exhaled and his expression cleared. “Today, we must return to the grind, as Americans are so fond of saying. Our schedule begins shortly and will extend well into the evening. I do hope you are sufficiently rested. It’s going to be a long day.”
Between the spa session she’d had yesterday and the restorative sleep, she felt more energized than she had in years. In truth, she was looking forward to having something worthwhile to do. That was her comfort zone. This life of luxury, while wonderful, wasn’t meant for women like her. Returning to her world was going to be hard enough as it was, and much more of this privileged pampering was going to start skewing her perception.
“Absolutely, Mr. Deimos. I’m ready.”
Several hours later, however, it still didn’t feel like the kind of business she was used to. Meetings were not held in boardrooms, but on elegant terraces overlooking the sea or in fine restaurants over long tables nearly collapsing under the weight of succulent dishes. Rather than business suits and ties, the dress was casual and elegant, much more suited to the Mediterranean clime than a New Jersey office. She now understood why Nikolaos had taken her shopping that first day. If he hadn’t, she would have stuck out like a sore thumb. With his guidance, she now blended in perfectly.
For the first time in her life, Ellie did not fall into bed that night, anxious to slip into her dreams and escape reality. Instead, she played back every minute of her day.
Chapter 9
Their ten days passed far too quickly. Nik didn’t want their time in Greece to end. He loved his native land, and every trip back was a good one, but this one had been particularly special because he had shared it with Ellie. He had watched her emerge from her protective shell and got a glimpse of the woman she was meant to be.
She was so different here, with him. Her diamond eyes sparkled. Her pristine skin, normally hidden beneath layers of cheap polyester, glowed with radiance. She smiled and laughed easily, something he had never thought he would see.
It wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
He searched for ways to extend their stay without being too obvious, but unfortunately, the Fates seemed disinclined to assist, and all too soon, it was time to return.
“Ellie,” Nik said as they flew over the vast ocean. He had been watching her. She was less anxious now than she had been on the flight over, comfortably ensconced in her seat, but still taking everything in. She seemed to be trying to memorize everything, every detail, every nuance, as if she might never have another chance to do so.
“Yes?” she asked, her voice an almost lazy drawl. It suited her much better than the efficient, emotionless tone she used at the office.
“Why don’t you wear a wedding band?”
The change was instantaneous. Her serene expression went blank, and her eyes shuttered as she dropped her gaze to her left hand. “It was too big,” she said quietly. “Cal guessed at the size when he picked out the bands. After the wedding, he said he would take it to be resized, but then we were so busy. We were trying to find an affordable place to live, and I was looking for a job in the city.” She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “It wasn’t a priority.”
Not a priority? The very symbol of a life-long commitment, of willingly giving yourself to another, not important? It was unconscionable.
“How long have you been married?”
“It will be three years in March.”
Nik clenched his jaw. Three years was a long time to make a woman wait for a wedding band that actually fit her finger.
Ellie, seeming to sense his discomfort, touched his forearm. The contact was no more substantial than a brush of butterfly wings, but Nik felt it acutely. Awareness jolted through his body, making his blood hum and his heart pound against the walls of his chest.
Before this trip, he realized, she had never actually touched him. If the effect it had on him was any indication, that was probably a good thing.
“It’s okay. It’s really not important.”
The hell it wasn’t. If she was his, he would make sure she was reminded of his devotion every time she looked at her finger, and that every male on the planet knew she was spoken for. The ring would be beautiful and unique, just like her. And it would sure as hell be the right size.
The more he learned of her husband, the more Nik disliked him. He hadn’t seen a single indication of the man’s adoration, and that bothered him. Ellie was a vibrant, intelligent woman; her husband should be making sure she knew that every day of her life.
“Why do you walk to work every day?” he asked suddenly.
Her eyes widened slightly, as if she was surprised he knew. “We only have one car. Cal used to drop me off on his way to work, but then he hurt his back, and he hasn’t been able to work.”
“So, why don’t you drive yourself?”
Ellie shifted slightly, averting her eyes. “Cal needs the car. Sometimes his mother can’t take him to his physical therapy, and riding the bus is painful for him. And it’s expensive to park in the city on a regular basis. Plus, it’s good exercise for me. It keeps me from putting on too much weight,” she added, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks at that last admission.
All perfectly reasonable excuses, spoken as if well-rehearsed. And complete bullshit in Ni
k’s opinion.
He felt Ellie start to pull away from him. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring up those things. He had somehow managed to avoid doing so for the duration of their stay in Greece, but he had wanted to know. Their time together was ending far more quickly than he would have liked.
“Thank you for answering, Ellie. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t,” she lied.
He knew better. He had become adept at reading her, increasingly attuned to her moods the more time they spent together.
The rest of the flight was relatively quiet. Ellie read the book of Greek myths and legends Nik had purchased for her, something by which to remember her first trip. He thought of it as nothing but a small, insignificant memento, but Ellie stroked her fingers reverently over the cover and kept it close as if it contained the ancient scrolls of Athena. He smiled to himself. Perhaps he would take her to see them on their next trip, the one he was already planning in his mind. This time with Ellie had been good for them both, and more such excursions were certainly warranted.
With each mile that drew them closer to their destination, Ellie’s shoulders dropped a little more, as if a heavy weight had been draped over them. Little by little, her face lost some of its youthful, relaxed glow.
Wanting to see her smile again, he resorted to playful banter. He teased her, telling her that he expected her to study the book because he would be quizzing her on their next business trip. She did smile at that, but he could tell she didn’t believe she would ever return. He refused to consider that an option.
“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Deimos,” Ellie said as their flight was about to land. “The last ten days have been a dream come true.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it,” he said, wishing he had come up with some excuse to extend the trip. “You handled yourself quite well and impressed some very important people. I sincerely hope I have not just sabotaged myself by introducing you to those higher up on the food chain. You will not abandon me for greener pastures, will you, Ellie?”
“Never, sir,” she whispered, blushing at his praise, a habit he had grown quite fond of.
Nik was almost glad her husband was such a pathetic dolt. It made it absurdly easy to coax a shy smile from Ellie with even the simplest of kindnesses.
As they left the comfort of the private jet, Nik gave in to the urgent demand to touch her. He placed his hand lightly along her lower back, a chaste touch meant only to guide her into the terminal, but like the brush of her fingers on his forearm earlier, he felt it acutely. Warmth from the contact flowed through him like honey, sweet and pleasant and soothing.
There was no mistaking the way her eyes searched the faces of those waiting in the pick-up area. Of friends and family that had come to claim their loved ones. And there was no mistaking the hurt she tried to hide when they had made it all the way out of the airport and it became clear no one had come to welcome her home.
“Come,” he said, forcing a cheerfulness into his voice he did not feel. “Our limousine awaits.”
She smiled at him then. A smile of gratitude and appreciation that nearly broke his heart. “You really know how to spoil a girl, Mr. Deimos.”
“One of the perks of putting up with me,” he responded dryly.
“You’re not so bad,” she murmured so quietly that she probably hadn’t meant for him to hear.
The drive, like the entire trip, was much too short. Too silent. They sat at opposite ends of the plush seat; him on one side, her on the other. Only a few scant feet separated them, yet it might as well have been an ocean.
She was shutting down, piece by piece, locking herself away behind that impenetrable mask. It was wrong, wrong on so many levels. Ellie was an extraordinary woman. She had blossomed in Greece, right before his eyes, like a rare hothouse flower. And now, back in this dull, colorless, monotonous existence, she was wilting.
Nikolaos felt an unwelcome twinge when the car pulled up in front of Ellie’s small house and he saw the single bulb porch light, the only indication she was expected. As welcome homes went, Nik thought it was pathetic.
“Thank you again, Mr. Deimos,” she said without meeting his eyes as the driver opened her door and retrieved her luggage from the trunk.
“You are very welcome, Ellie.”
Forcing himself not to jump out of the limo and drag her back in with him, he watched as she stood on the small, covered stoop and searched for her keys, then disappeared into the house without a backward glance.
What kind of worthless idiot is her husband, anyway? he seethed as the driver pulled smoothly away. If Ellie had been his, he would have been flinging the door open and gathering her into his arms. Hells, he would have been waiting at the airport with a dozen roses.
Nik gave himself a mental shake. No, he wouldn’t have done any of that, because he never would have let her go with a man like him in the first place.
He sighed, feeling strangely bereft as he looked at his watch. Barely ten hours before he would see her again. For a man who had lived millennia, it seemed far too long to wait.
* * *
“Cal? I’m home,” Ellie softly called out into the silence.
It didn’t take long to find Cal in the kitchen, fixing himself his nightly bowl of oatmeal. Ever since a health screening at work several years earlier revealed a potential risk for high cholesterol, he had been eating it religiously every night.
“Hi.” He remained on the far side of the room, taking a long look at her. “You look different.”
She blushed and smiled, turning around for him. “Do you like it?”
“It’s nice,” he said without inflection, though his brows drew together as if confused. “You look ... good.”
Good. Not beautiful. Not pretty. Not breathtaking. His eyes didn’t light up at the sight of her, nor did he look at her with the blatant male appreciation she had become somewhat accustomed to.
While in Greece, she had felt pretty. Sometimes even desired. Not once had she felt ... like this.
But the men who had smiled at her and held doors for her and stood when she entered a room had been strangers, Ellie reminded herself. Wealthy, successful businessmen who were skilled at reading people and identifying their vulnerabilities. Men who knew exactly what to say and do to maximize potential.
Those kinds of things—the seductive smiles, the subtle glances, the occasional comments meant to flatter a woman—were not skills mid-level CPAs like her husband needed, not when they spent their days crunching numbers and decoding tax exemptions in tiny gray cubicles on gray floors within tall, gray buildings. The lackluster reception was an important reminder that she was no longer in the land of ancient myths and dreams, but a small, lower- to middle-class suburb in North Jersey.
Cal’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not wearing your contacts.”
“No,” she said, feeling strangely naked and exposed in her own home. “I was afraid to, in case I fell asleep on the long plane ride.” Ellie felt herself deflating, the remnants of her newfound confidence slipping away rapidly.
Her smile faltered as he continued to stare. Suddenly, she felt awkward, embarrassed by her little twirl and her freakish eyes. She smoothed the lines of her blouse self-consciously.
Unwilling to see his disappointment any longer, Ellie looked around the small kitchen instead. Everything was neat, clean, and exactly as she had left it, except for small changes here and there. The canister set her mother had given them for a wedding present had been pushed toward the back of the counter. An ergonomic mat had been placed on the floor in front of the sink. And new towels adorned with gaudy designs Ellie never would have chosen hung from the handle of the oven door.
Cal was obsessively neat by nature, but she would bet his mother had been by several times to tidy up, clean “properly,” and leave her mark behind in the process. It was not quite as blatant as a sign that said “Bernice was here,” but it was clear enough.
“Did you manage oka
y?”
“Mom came by a few times. She went to the grocery store and got my prescriptions refilled so I wouldn’t have to.” Ellie heard the accusation as clearly as if he had spoken them. Because you had other, more important things to do.
Inwardly, Ellie chastised herself for the wave of despair that rolled over her. She should be glad Cal was not a slob like so many husbands she had heard other women complain about. At least she hadn’t come home to a sink full of dirty dishes and rancid takeout containers.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up at the airport.” He made no move to cross the room, to hug her, to kiss her, or to sweep her into his arms and tell her that he missed her.
Inside, her heart fell further. Outwardly, she blinked away the hint of moisture that began to well, feeling foolish for even daring to hope he might be moved to offer some small physical gesture of welcome. It just wasn’t his way. Cal had never been a romantic, even when they were first dating. He had been solid. Dependable. Honest. Faithful.
Important characteristics of a good husband and potential father someday.
“That’s okay.” In those ridiculous, romantic daydreams she’d had of Cal sweeping her off her feet the moment she disembarked, she had forgotten the doctor had told him long car rides could be uncomfortable, but she had hoped that once, just once, he might not have considered that and come anyway.
Or, even better, that he had considered it, then decided she was worth a little discomfort, maybe even use it to his advantage to coax a backrub out of it. That after being apart for more than a week, he wanted his face to be the one she saw among the crowds of people awaiting their loved ones when their plane arrived.
It was selfish, she knew, but she had become rather selfish over the past ten days. She found she liked wearing nice clothes and having men smile at her and stand when she entered a room.
Then again, riding home in their cramped Accord wouldn’t have been nearly as comfortable as in the back of the private limousine filled with scents of supple leather and Nikolaos Deimos.
Immortal Dreams: A Mythological Romance Page 7