by Jackie Braun
After taking a sip, she gravitated to the window of a nearby shop. She couldn’t help herself. Shoes were on display and all but calling her name.
“Would you like to go inside?” Nick asked. He was smiling, the first real smile she’d seen all day.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she warned with mock sternness.
“Pardon?”
“No man in his right mind encourages a woman to shop.”
He took her drink and sipped it straight from the straw. All the while his gaze was on her. “I have a condition.”
The simple statement managed to raise gooseflesh on her skin despite the day’s heat.
“And that is?”
“Everything that you try on you must model for me.”
She glanced back at the shoes. “I’m game.”
It was an easy enough deal to keep in a shoe store, but then Nick steered her into a shop two doors down.
“Remember our deal,” he said, pointing to a display of lingerie.
“I am not trying that on,” she said resolutely of the bustier. “But I will try on these.” She selected a pair of stone-colored capri pants from one of the racks. “And this.”
Nick fingered the soft fabric of the turquoise tunic-style blouse in her hands. “The color will complement your complexion and bring out your eyes.”
Darcie tried not to glance at the price tag, which she knew would not complement her bank account. For kicks, she added to the growing selection a white halter dress that made her think of Marilyn Monroe.
“I would really like to see you in this.”
Clipped to the hanger he held was a tiny bikini that would leave even more of Darcie exposed than the lingerie.
“Right.” She snorted indelicately. “I haven’t worn a two-piece swimsuit since I was six years old.”
He thrust the hanger into her hands. “Then I would say you are overdue.”
“Nick.”
“Ah, ah, ah. We had a deal.” He nudged her toward the changing room in the back of the store. “Keep in mind that on many European beaches it is perfectly acceptable to go topless.”
Laughing, she ducked into the small room. She lined up the hangers, leaving the bikini for last and far from certain she would honor their bargain. The first thing she stepped out in was the white halter dress.
“Ta-da!” In her bare feet, she executed a twirl for him and then posed with one hand on her hip. With the other she primped her hair. “I’m channeling Marilyn Monroe.”
“Very sexy. Perhaps the store has an air-conditioning duct you can stand over top of. I would not mind seeing a little more of your legs.”
Darcie hiked up the hem of the dress’s skirt by a couple of inches to accommodate his wish, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Make no mistake, you have very nice knees. However, I was thinking about your thighs.” His smile held a dare.
She glanced around. The shop was busy, but the dressing rooms were at the back. A couple of sale racks helped to shield her from view.
She inched up the dress more slowly this time.
“I will tell you when to stop,” Nick said quietly.
“I bet.”
The hem was not quite to the middle of her thigh when Nick uttered a gruff, “Enough!”
“You don’t want to see any more?”
“Not out in public.”
Darcie didn’t smile, but she wanted to. The same went for pumping her fists in the air. Eat your heart out, Marilyn, she thought, feeling every bit as desired as the famous sex symbol.
Nick stood. “I’m going to buy another Kliafa.”
“Right now? I was going to model the bikini next,” she teased ruthlessly.
After muttering something she couldn’t quite catch, he said, “I will wait for you outside.”
So it was that Nick never got the chance to see Darcie wearing a clingy wine-colored dress that an ambitious saleswoman slipped into the changing room along with some sexy satin undergarments that the young woman claimed were essential to ensuring the dress’s proper fit.
Darcie had to admit, they definitely smoothed out certain areas while lifting others, which was why she purchased them. As for the bikini, she wasn’t sure why she bought it. She didn’t need it. Wasn’t sure she had the guts to wear it out in public. But she looked good in it. Damned good. A little voice that sounded suspiciously like her friend Becky told her she should buy it.
At the cash register, she wound up charging enough to her credit card to leave her feeling guilty and a little giddy.
“You are flushed,” Nick noted as they made their way to the restaurant.
“Yes, well, spending more than I earn in a week has been known to have that effect on me.” She chuckled weakly.
* * *
Despite their shopping trip, the man they were to meet had not yet arrived when they reached the restaurant. Nick requested a table in a shady part of the patio that offered a lovely view of the Litheos River.
“While we’re waiting, why don’t you tell me a little about Ari Galanos,” Darcie said.
“Ah, Ari.” Nick chuckled fondly. “I should warn you, he will flirt shamelessly with you. The man goes through cars almost as quickly as he goes through wives.”
“Thanks for the warning.” The waiter came by for their beverage order.
“A glass of wine?” Nick asked.
“Why not? I’m not driving.”
“You could, you know. If you wished.”
“No, no.” She shook her head. “With or without a glass of wine, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“The roads can be a little treacherous if one is not familiar with them,” he agreed.
“Yes, not to mention the fact that it’s been a decade since I last drove a manual transmission.” She tilted her head to one side and asked, “Are you familiar with the expression, ‘If you can’t find ’em, grind ’em’?”
“I am not.”
“Well, suffice it to say, that was my motto whenever I was trying to shift from one gear to the next.”
“Ah.” He grimaced as understanding dawned. And they both wound up chuckling.
“This is nice,” Darcie said on a sigh a few minutes later, as she sipped her wine and gazed at the river. “I feel very relaxed.”
“That is the point of a vacation, yes? To relax, rejuvenate one’s spirit.”
She nodded. But they both knew this wasn’t a normal vacation for Darcie. The trip had been booked as her honeymoon. After calling off her wedding, she had intended to use it as a getaway, a timeout from her post-breakup reality. Now, it was turning into a job opportunity and so much more.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked, surprised.
“For helping me get my life back in order.”
“Your gratitude is not necessary. You have done that all on your own.”
But she persisted. “No, you had a hand in it, Nick. If not for you, I would be on a plane headed home right now, and going back to a job that I’d talked myself into believing was good enough since it pays the bills.”
He reached across the table for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You sell yourself short, Darcie. You would have reached for your dream again, with or without my help. I gave you a gentle push in the right direction. That is all.”
Her smile told Nick she didn’t quite believe him. Her gratitude made him uncomfortable. Another man might have used it, exploited it even, to maneuver her into his bed. Nick was too scrupulous for that. He wanted Darcie there, and the waiting was taking its toll, but he did not want her to say yes because she felt she owed him something. He meant it when he told her she would have sought out her dream again on her own, even without his prodding. If her passion for writing was anything like his pa
ssion for cars, it wouldn’t be denied.
Ari arrived as they were finishing their wine. He ordered a second round of drinks, although this time Nick switched to sparkling water. Not only would he be driving later, but he also preferred to keep a clear head in business. Ari was shrewd and he was used to getting his way.
As predicted, the older man’s eyes lit with appreciation when Nick introduced him to Darcie.
Still holding her hand, he said in Greek, “Nick did not mention hiring an assistant. Or is your relationship more personal in nature?”
Smiling, Darcie glanced helplessly at Nick.
“Darcie does not speak Greek,” he said. “She is an American.”
“I apologize,” Ari replied in heavily accented English. “I was asking about your relationship with Nick.”
“My re—”
“Darcie is a writer,” Nick explained. “I have hired her to prepare feature articles on some of the automobiles that will appear in my next auction brochure. Already she has done some research on your Austin-Healey.”
Ari didn’t appear convinced. His tone was just shy of condescending when he asked, “What have you managed to learn about my automobile, my dear?”
“Let’s see, I know the 1956 model is worth more than other 100M Roadsters.” She ran a fingertip around the top of her wineglass as she spoke. “That was the only year they manufactured the performance-enhanced model, which tops out at a speed of one hundred and fifteen miles per hour. The car was marketed to customers who wanted to compete or who just plain liked to go fast, which is why it has a tighter front suspension, added louvers to keep the hood in place at high speeds and a fold-down windshield.”
Ari’s bushy brows shot up. “Beautiful and smart. I apologize.”
“Darcie is not to be underestimated,” Nick agreed with no small amount of pride. And he knew a moment of panic as he wondered if he had underestimated the impact she was having on his life.
Earlier, she had thanked him for helping her to get her life back in order. For helping her find passion again where it long had been missing. It dawned on Nick that she had returned the favor. He always had enjoyed business. It was his personal life that had been lacking. Oh, he’d dated plenty of women, one or two of them for several months before breaking off the relationship and moving on.
None of those women had affected him the way Darcie was. None had made him envision a future with a family that he’d taken for granted when he was a young man.
* * *
The drive from Trikala to their hotel in Meteora would have taken less than half an hour, but Nick wanted to put his newly acquired Austin-Healey through its paces.
“Satisfied with the car?” Darcie asked when traffic finally forced him to slow down.
“I am, yes. Ari has taken good care of her. She runs like a dream.” He rubbed the leather seat. “And other than this one small tear in the upholstery, her body is in mint condition, as well.”
“Why do men refer to cars with female pronouns? I’ve never understood that.”
“It seems more natural to be riding in a female than a male.” Nick grinned. “Maybe it is simply the way we are wired.”
“So, you’re saying it’s in your genes?” Darcie rolled her eyes. “Please.”
His grin turned wicked. “A different kind of jeans then.”
Darcie crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes a second time, but she looked more amused than exasperated. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed it, but over the course of the day, she’d drawn him out of his foul mood. Indeed, Nick was actually enjoying himself, whereas he often found buying trips tedious.
He reached for her hand, forcing her to unfold her arms, and then gave her fingers an affectionate squeeze. He was still holding her hand when they reached their destination.
* * *
The hotel where Nick had booked their rooms was nicer than anything Darcie would have chosen had she been picking up the tab herself. It went without saying that it was nicer than anything Stavros would have provided as part of the all-inclusive tour.
Their rooms were on the third floor, which like all of the floors, was open to the atrium on the main level. They made plans to meet for a late dinner, which would give them both a chance to unpack and unwind.
“Wear the white dress to dinner,” he suggested as he handed her a key card.
“I didn’t buy the white dress.”
“What is in there then?” He pointed to two bags she carried that were printed with the shop’s logo.
She smiled benignly. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
When Darcie said it, she was referring to the sexy wine-colored dress. But that changed when she slipped into her room and realized that it joined with Nick’s via an interior door. Because she could quite vividly picture him on the other side of it, undressing, she decided to go for a swim. The hotel had a nice pool in a courtyard outdoors. A quick dip and a little lounging on one of the chaises might be the perfect distraction.
She eyed the tank-style one-piece in a bland shade of blue that she’d brought with her from Athens before deciding to slip into the red bikini. She wouldn’t wear it downstairs. Probably. But...
She had just finished tying the top’s knot behind her neck when a tapping sounded on the interior door. She grabbed her robe, hastily pulled it on before going to answer it. Her mouth went dry at the sight that greeted her. Nick’s shirt was open, the buckle of his belt hung to one side of his unbuttoned trousers. The man was built like a god, with ripped abs and the kind of chest that it seemed a sin to cover with a shirt. This was why she’d decided to go for a swim. This was exactly how she’d pictured him looking.
“I interrupted you,” she said.
“I believe I am the one who knocked.” He sounded amused, but his expression was intense, aroused.
“R-right. I knew that.”
“Is this what you plan to wear to dinner?”
She shook her head and managed to drag some air into her lungs. She had one hand on the doorjamb and plunked the other one on her hip. “Terry cloth is a little too casual, I think.”
“You will not hear me complain.”
She laughed softly.
“But I am disappointed.”
“Oh?”
“I see red.” He reached out and plucked at the bow that peeked from the collar of the robe. “You promised to model everything for me.”
“I offered. You left.”
“Because we were in public,” he reminded her. “Will you keep your promise now?”
She swallowed. Nodded. And nearly forgot how to breathe when he loosened the robe’s belt.
“Do you like it?” she found the courage to ask.
“Take off the robe.”
She did as instructed. The robe slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet.
“Well?” She tilted her head to one side and managed a smile.
Nick, however, did not smile. Nor did he say anything. He acted, swiftly and decisively. One minute Darcie was on her side of the door, posing provocatively in the itty-bitty red two-piece. The next she was in his room, pinned between his hard body and the wall while his mouth devoured hers.
“I’m taking this to mean you like what you see,” she told him on a breathy laugh when the kiss finally ended.
“I do indeed.”
“I was thinking about going swimming. You know, in the hotel pool. Um, that’s why I’m wearing my bathing suit.”
“Is that why?” he asked. He had maneuvered her away from the wall and was now slowly walking her backward toward the bed.
“Why else?” she asked innocently, even as the edge of the mattress pressed into the back of her thighs.
“I think you put on your bikini to torture me.” He stepp
ed back far enough so that he could do a slow inspection of her body. A groan of approval vibrated from his throat.
“I didn’t know you were going to knock on my door,” she pointed out. “So, that’s merely a bonus.”
Darcie was amazed at her boldness. Not only did she feel comfortable standing nearly naked before him, but she also felt sexy and confident. She planted her hands on her hips and turned slowly side to side before presenting him with her back and glancing flirtatiously over one shoulder.
“So, you like my suit, hmm?”
His gaze skimmed down a second time and he let out a low whistle. “The suit, what little of it there is, is nice. I like the way you look in it, Darcie. You are beautiful.”
Better yet, she felt that way. Smiling in earnest, she asked, “So, are we going?”
“Wh-where?” he stammered.
In addition to looking turned on, Nick looked off balance. Darcie’s confidence shot up another notch.
“Swimming.” She grinned. “You remembered to pack a pair of trunks, right?”
“I did.”
“Good. Put them on.”
She slipped around him and started for the door, but only managed two steps before his hands clamped on her waist and she was hauled back against his rock-hard chest, abs and...
In the mirror that hung on the opposite wall, their gazes met. Neither one of them was smiling now. The time for humor and teasing had passed. Nick brushed her hair aside and nuzzled her neck a moment, then his hand came up, his fingers fiddled at the nape of her neck. The knot in the bikini’s halter went slack.
“It appears that your top has come loose,” he murmured huskily.
He gathered both sides in his hands, holding them at her collarbone. If he were to let go...
“So I see, although I believe it had a little help.”
“I can retie it,” he offered.
She met his gaze without blinking. She thought she might have stopped breathing, too. “Have you got any other suggestions?”
His hands moved lower, slowly exposing more of her skin inch by inch. They both watched his progress in the mirror.
“I can stop. I should stop.” His eyes pinched closed a moment and he uttered an oath before pulling the straps taut and retying them. At her questioning gaze in the mirror, he said, “My grandmother thinks I am chivalrous. This is a moment that calls for such old-fashioned thinking.”