by Jackie Braun
He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, pushed her inside and shut the door himself.
“Engage the security chain,” she heard him order from the hallway.
With their talk about flings and expectations swirling in her head, it was well after two before Darcie finally fell asleep.
* * *
The next day, as promised, she and Nick visited the Temple of Zeus and then Hadrian’s Arch. It was a small consolation that he appeared as ill-rested as she was. She had her guidebook out and was reading about how the arch, which was built in 131 AD, had marked the boundary between ancient Athens and the new Roman city of Hadrian, when her cell phone rang.
Thinking it might be Tad, she considered ignoring it, but when she saw that it was Stavros, she flashed Nick an apologetic smile.
“I need to take this.”
“I will be just there.” He pointed to a nearby street vendor’s cart and headed off. Darcie unabashedly enjoyed the view as he walked away. She was smiling when she answered. By the time the call ended five minutes later, however, she was fuming and feeling dejected. It didn’t come as a surprise that Stavros would not refund her money. Still, she’d hoped.... She went to join Nick.
“I took a chance that you would like chocolate.” He handed her an ice cream cone.
“Gee, big risk,” she teased. “Where’s yours?”
“Ice cream will melt quickly in this heat. I thought we could share.” With that, he ran his tongue over the top scoop, all while keeping his gaze on her.
When Nick said things like that, when he looked at Darcie the way he was looking at her right now... She’d never felt like this. Ever. So wound up. So wanted. Wouldn’t it just figure that she would be leaving soon?
“It is your turn now.” Nick nodded to the ice cream.
Unfortunately, when she went to lick the ice cream, the top scoop fell off the cone. It plopped on the pavement between their feet.
“The story of my life,” she muttered, closing her eyes. She wanted to scream, cry. She settled for sighing.
“It is only ice cream. There is no need to be so upset.”
She opened her eyes. “It’s not just the ice cream.”
His expression sobered. “The phone call, has something happened? Your family?”
“All fine as far as I know. That was Stavros. He finally got around to returning my call.”
“And?”
“Well, he was very apologetic when I asked for a refund, but...” Her shoulders lifted. “He did offer to personally drive me to several of the locations on my itinerary, but I declined. He didn’t exactly sound sober.”
Nick threw the empty ice cream cone into a nearby waste container and plucked his cell phone from his back pocket. “I will call him. I will make him see reason.”
“Thank you, but no.” She placed a hand over his. “You’ve already left messages on my behalf. Besides, you said it yourself that first day. He doesn’t have the money to refund.”
“What will you do now?”
“I can’t stay the full two weeks.” Even if she wanted to—and oh, yeah, she really wanted to—she couldn’t afford it. As it was, her three nights in Athens were going to set her back half a week’s pay.
“How long?”
“Another couple of days.” And even that was going to stretch her financial limit. It would be worth eating mac and cheese for a month, though, if it meant spending more time with Nick.
“But you cannot leave so soon. You have barely seen any of the sights. You have barely been outside of Athens.”
“Believe me, I wish I could afford to continue my vacation, but I can’t.”
“If you had a place to stay, one that would cost you nothing, would you postpone your return to the States?” he asked slowly.
“What do you mean if I had a place to stay that would not cost me anything?”
“I know of such a place, a house that is not far from where we had dinner last night.”
“A house?” He had to be joking. A house near the harbor that would not cost her a dime? Her tone light, she asked, “Does it boast the same spectacular view as the restaurant?”
“The view is even better.”
“You’re serious.”
“I am. Do you want to see it?”
“I...”
He took her hand and started toward where he had parked the car. “I will take that as a yes.”
* * *
Darcie expected the house to be nice. Nick didn’t strike her as the sort of man who would recommend anything even remotely substandard. Nor had he exaggerated about the view. The house was farther up the hillside than the restaurant and its windows were placed to make the most of the stunning scenery.
The foyer opened into what she assumed was the main living space. It was spacious, well-appointed.
“Is this really a rental property?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed toward an arched doorway across the room.
“The kitchen is through here,” he said.
The home’s kitchen was bigger than the one Darcie had glimpsed at Nick’s grandmother’s house. Even though it was equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, it appeared less used. The stainless steel pots and pans that dangled from the rack over the butcher-block island showed little sign of wear, and there was not so much as a grease splatter on the tiles on the wall behind the cook top. That seemed odd and she said as much to Nick.
He shrugged. “Some people prefer to eat out.”
They returned to the living room. She glanced around again. The furnishings were modern and leaned toward masculine with their no-frill lines and muted colors. The massive plasma-screen television would appeal to a man, too. And all of the magazines spread out over the coffee table were geared toward sports and the automobile enthusiast.
“The bedrooms are upstairs,” Nick said.
He was three treads up when Darcie’s words stopped him. “That’s all right. I think I’ve seen enough.”
He turned on a frown. “It is not to your liking.”
“Oh, I like it. How can I not? This home is gorgeous.” She folded her arms. “It’s also no rental. It’s yours, Nick.”
At least he didn’t insult her intelligence by trying to deny it. “I am so rarely here that I could rent it out. In fact, my accountant has suggested I do just that.”
Oh, she didn’t doubt that. The location was prime, the view stunning, its amenities and furnishings were top-of-the-line. He could lease it by the week or even by the month. It would fetch an outrageous sum.
“You could, but you don’t. You’re making an exception for me. And my stay would be complimentary.”
He dipped his chin. “Yes.”
“But there’s a price, right?”
She wanted to be irate, maybe even insulted. She was having a hard time getting past flattered and turned on. And that was before he smiled. Heat shimmied up her spine like a brush fire out of control.
“I assure you, it is not what you are thinking.”
Arms still crossed, for self-preservation more so than out of pique, she asked, “And what is it that I’m thinking, Nick?”
“That I am trying to take advantage of both you and your current situation.”
“Are you?”
“As tempting as I find that, I am a man with scruples, remember? You said so yourself.”
“So, what you are saying then, is that if I agree to stay here you would be sleeping on the couch.”
His laughter was sharp. “I have scruples, Darcie. But I will not claim to be a saint. If I were to spend the night under the same roof as you, sleeping on the couch would not be an option for either of us.”
A disturbingly erotic image of the pair of them—sweaty, sated and tangled
up in bedsheets—swirled through her mind. She swallowed hard and managed to say, “Then what do you have in mind?”
He took a step toward her, and even though he was still more than arm’s length away, her body began to hum like the plucked strings of a harp.
“I will stay with my family. My mother will be glad for the intrusion. She complains that she does not see me enough when I am in Athens.” He took another step forward. “You would have this entire place to yourself. How does that sound?”
Lonely. “Lovely.”
“Is that yes, then?”
Darcie gave herself a mental shake. “Nick, your offer is very generous, a little too generous for me to accept.”
“I am only repaying your kindness. You did me a favor,” he persisted.
“Repayment wasn’t necessary. I enjoyed dinner with your family. Besides, you have taken me sightseeing and out to dinner last night. You have more than repaid any debt you feel you owe me.”
“Perhaps you will consider staying here in lieu of payment for a job?”
That caught her interest. “What sort of job?”
“You are a trained journalist, yes?”
“I’m a fact-checker.”
“You were a fact-checker. Regardless, you are a journalist and, most importantly, you know an astonishing amount about vintage automobiles.”
“I do,” she agreed, still unable to figure out where this was heading.
“In exchange for writing background information for my auction catalog, a service for which I currently pay someone in New York, you can stay in my home for the remainder of your vacation and I will continue to act as your tour guide. We may not be able to hit all of the sites on your original itinerary, but we should be able to manage many of them.”
Darcie ran her tongue around her teeth. What he was proposing sounded reasonable. It sounded fair. And, God knew, she didn’t want to cut her trip short and fly home to the mess that awaited her. There was so much more she wanted to see and experience in Greece.
And then there was Nick...
“Um, the person who usually does this sort of thing for you, will they be out of work if I agree?”
Nick shook his head. “I have no one on my payroll, if that is what you mean. I contract with a couple of freelance writers in Manhattan whenever the need arises. In this case, I simply would be contracting with you instead.”
“And my payment would be free lodgings here.”
“And sightseeing. You will have a car at your disposal, should you need one. And I am happy to accompany you.”
The smile that spread across his face caused heat to curl in her belly. As much as she wanted to agree right then and there, Darcie hesitated. “That seems like such an imposition. I can’t help but feel like I’m getting the better end of the deal.”
“Hmm,” Nick murmured thoughtfully as he closed the distance between them. His hands found Darcie’s waist and he said, “Then perhaps I should apply conditions.”
“Oh? What might those be?” she asked, and gave herself a mental high five for not hyperventilating on the spot. Indeed, for someone who had already confessed to being unsophisticated when it came to matters such as this, Darcie thought she sounded downright blasé.
“You will have to accompany me on my business trips. I have four lined up between now and the day you are to return home.” He leaned in after saying so. She felt his lips brush the curve of her neck. “We can combine my business with your pleasure.”
“I—I suppose I could fit those into my schedule.” She tipped her head to the side, giving him greater access to her neck. While he took advantage of that, she closed her eyes and murmured, “Anything else?”
“You will help me research the vehicles in question. I usually do this on my own, but I would appreciate your insight.” His breath tickled her ear.
“Mmm. ’Kay. I have no problem with that.”
“No?” He kissed her cheek.
“None whatsoever.”
“Good.”
“It is good.” Bordering on incredible, she decided, as his hands moved up her sides and his thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts.
“So, that is yes?” His voice was low, strained. “You will stay?”
Darcie wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I’ll stay, Nick.”
SEVEN
“We had better go.”
Nick made that pronouncement with no small amount of regret. But if he and Darcie stayed in his home much longer, the sparks he was experiencing were bound to ignite into an all-out blaze. And he had just convinced her that he was not, in fact, offering her a place to stay in exchange for a bedmate. He still had no doubt that Darcie and he would move beyond the hypothetical when it came to having a fling, but he’d meant what he said last night—he wanted both of them going into it with open eyes and clear expectations.
That and he couldn’t explain exactly why, but he didn’t want the flash and burn of spontaneous sex. With Darcie, when it happened, he wanted to take his time. He wanted to make it last, make it count. Something told him she deserved that. So, he collected his keys from the kitchen counter and steered her out the door as quickly as possible. She didn’t object.
On the drive back to her hotel, he said, “I will be by tomorrow morning at nine to collect you. We can move your belongings to the house and then spend the afternoon wandering near the seaside, if you would like.”
“That sounds fine, but what about work? Do you have a car you need to go see or one that you want me to start researching online?”
Nick shook his head. “I think tomorrow will be a day off for both of us. Work can start the following day.”
* * *
“Oh, my God! You’re moving in with Nick!”
Becky didn’t sound as scandalized as she did jealous. And no wonder. After Darcie had sent her friend a photograph she’d snapped of Nick at the Parthenon, Becky had emailed back that she would be on the next flight to Athens if Nick had a friend she could meet who was even half as good-looking.
No friend. Only a brother and he’s getting married, Darcie had emailed back. She’d left out all of the nuances to that particular story, not sure what to make of them herself.
Now, she told Becky, “I’m not moving in with Nick. I’m moving into his house.”
“You say potato.... Is there really a distinction?”
Darcie couldn’t help but laugh. Nor could she help but be grateful that she’d called Becky before calling her family. She could only imagine what her parents were going to make of the latest twist in her trip itinerary. They hadn’t exactly been thrilled about her going on her honeymoon solo. Even though she was a grown woman, she knew they worried. She’d promised to check in a few times during her trip. Her conversation with Becky qualified as a test run, so Darcie strove to clear up any misconceptions. She needed to have her story down pat before relaying it to her mom and dad.
“There’s a big distinction. Nick will not be there. He is going to stay with his parents.”
She went on to explain the rest of the arrangement to Becky—the work she would be doing for Nick in exchange for the free lodgings. By the time she finished, it sounded like a perfectly platonic business deal, especially since she didn’t mention the skill with which Nick kissed or the way she responded to those kisses. No sense pouring kerosene on a fire that was already burning cheerfully all on its own.
“So, it’s a business arrangement,” Becky said slowly.
“Exactly. Who knows? Nick says he uses freelancers to put together his auction booklets. Maybe I’ll be able to snag some of that work when I get home, too. It’s not exactly full-length feature writing, but it’s a start. I can get my feet wet, begin collecting clips.”
“You want to write again?”
Darcie had never stopped wanting to write, but as a practical matter, while working full-time as a fact-checker, she hadn’t had the wherewithal to seek out freelance opportunities. Besides, Tad had not been encouraging. A journalism career, especially one that eventually might take her to New York, wasn’t in the cards for his future wife.
“My life is in chaos anyway. Why not try new things? You know, take some chances.”
“Oh, you won’t get any argument from me. I always felt you gave up on your dream job much too easily. That’s another reason I never liked Tad. He wasn’t supportive when it came to your goals. It was all about him. His happiness. His career. His mother,” she added drolly. “I’m glad to see your backbone returning.”
“Greece has been good for me,” Darcie replied. “A new start.”
“Yes, and a hot man who treats you like a goddess doesn’t hurt, either.”
They both laughed, but Darcie knew there was some truth to her friend’s words. In the short time she’d known Nick, she had started to feel more confident, more desirable, more in control of her future. Maybe those changes would have occurred regardless once she’d called off her engagement. Still, she credited Nick for accelerating the process.
But did that mean she could handle a no-emotional-strings-attached fling with him? Darcie didn’t know. Sure, she flirted a good game, but she’d also confessed her unworldliness to Nick. She was pretty sure that was what had him holding back.
After Darcie hung up, she called her mom and dad.
Neither of her parents had a problem with her new living arrangements, especially since Darcie left off the part that Nick owned the house where she would be staying. In fact, she left out a lot of details where Nick was concerned, only mentioning that he’d offered her a freelance opportunity.
Like Becky, her father was thrilled that Darcie was returning to writing.
“That’s the best news I’ve had in a long, long time,” he told her. The pride she heard in his voice made her eyes sting. He’d never stopped believing in her.
“Thanks, Dad.” Since her mother was on the extension, Darcie asked, “And you, Mom? What do you think?”
“I’m happy if you’re happy.” But her voice didn’t hold pride as much as trepidation.