“Thanks, Nate.”
“Anytime. I’m just sorry that you won’t get to finish up your exchange year.”
“It’s okay. Study abroad has sort of lost its luster.” We both laugh at the understatement.
“But Mess?”
“Yeah?”
“Promise me you’ll be ready next time.”
I look at him quizzically.
“Next time some guy comes around—someone you could really be into. Don’t let this make you bitter or scared. You’ve never been scared of anything and I don’t want to see you change.”
I give him a small smile. My heart wants to protest, tell him that there won’t be a next time, that Niko is it for me, my one. I can’t possibly consider the possibility that I might meet someone who would take his place. But I don’t want to upset Nate, and I also know that at twenty-one years old I’d be a fool to discount the possibility. I also know that it will be a very long time before I can even consider that possibility. My heart belongs to Niko, and I have a feeling that a part of it will forever.
But that’s not what my big brother, who’s already worried about me, wants to hear.
“I’ll be ready,” I say. “But for now, I just want to go home.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see if Dad’s ready to call the taxi.”
“Thank you, Nate. You really are a good brother.”
“You’re welcome, Mess. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Tess
Six Months Later
I’m standing at the dock, the wind whipping my hair around my head. It’s spring in Chicago, and while the day is pretty warm, the wind isn’t. I huddle into my faux shearling jacket and wonder again why the hell Nate insisted I meet him here. It’s not like he takes a boat to get to town.
But he was very specific, he said I had to stand at this dock, at this time, and that he had a surprise for me. The only thing I can guess is he’s taken up with a girl at one of the tour companies or he bought a boat. Although why in the world he’d keep a boat here when he lives in D.C. I have no idea.
There are about six ships disembarking and boarding here right now. Tour boats, big ships that cruise the harbor with loads of tourists. I hope that Nate can find me, because at my height I can’t see jack around all these people. Some huge guy pushing a stroller with three kids hanging off of it knocks into me as he passes by, and before I know it I’m flying, feet off the ground, pitching forward, about to crash headlong into someone’s back, when I get jerked upright again, a pair of very strong hands grasping my shoulders.
“Are you okay?” a deep voice says in my ear. My entire body tenses, my heart kicking up to record-breaking levels.
I slowly turn, until I’m facing a broad chest covered in a tight blue t-shirt, pecs and abs peeking through the thin cotton. My eyes travel upward, and I’m having a hard time catching my breath, because deep down I know what I’m going to see when the journey’s done—the most beautiful pair of blue eyes God ever put on a man.
“Oh,” I gasp as I look at him.
Niko gives me a smile and I’m stunned, any coherent thoughts blown right out of my head.
“Tess,” he whispers, his gaze flicking from my eyes to my mouth and back again.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice ridiculously breathy.
His hands travel slowly down my arms and back up again. I wet my lips and I see his eyes go dark.
“I came for you,” he says.
“Uh.” I’m speechless.
“Can we talk? For a few minutes?”
“Okay,” I whisper. Apparently my voice has taken a hiatus.
He grasps my hand and we start to walk through the crowds back toward the boardwalk.
Suddenly I remember Nate. “Wait! My brother. I was supposed to meet my brother here,” I tell him, my heart plummeting inside my chest. What if Niko thinks I don’t want to talk to him and leaves now?
“He’s not coming, princess,” he says, grinning.
“What? How do you…it was you the whole time? You I was supposed to meet here today? You’re the surprise?”
He nods. “Nate and I have been talking for the last few months. I finally convinced him I was an okay guy so he did me a solid.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. Nate will be hearing from me about his meddling, but for now I want to hear what Niko has to tell me.
He pulls me behind him again and we continue along the waterfront passing boat slips until I see a familiar sight—Niko’s sailboat. “You brought your boat,” I say.
“Same model, but a different boat,” he tells me as we approach.
I look at it, trying to catalogue the differences. The deck is a different kind of wood, and there’s a stripe along the side. Then my eyes stop at the name written across the bow. Tess, it says in large dark blue and gold letters.
I stop, looking at the name and trying not to fall apart. He named his boat after me. I think I might die.
He stands behind me, his big body hot and far too close. “You see the name?” he whispers in my ear as he leans down, his lips brushing against my hair. I hear him make a small sound deep in his chest and everything inside of me collapses, a quivering pile of jello.
“Come aboard?” he asks.
I nod, nearly choking on the hope that’s swelling inside me.
Once we’re on board, Niko offers to make me a coffee to help warm up. I accept the offer and wait on deck while he goes below to the espresso maker. My mind is reeling from seeing him, touching him, having him here in my hometown, on a boat with my name painted on the side.
I look around the familiar structure of the boat, remembering each time we laid on the deck, made love, kissed, talked, dreamed. I’ve worked so hard not to have those memories, they’re almost as painful as if they happened yesterday.
That’s why when he comes back upstairs, carrying two demitasse cups of espresso, I’m standing in the middle of the deck crying like a snot-nosed freak.
He sets the cups down on the bench along the edge of the deck and pulls me into his arms. “What’s wrong, princess? Should I not have come?”
I bury my face in his chest for a moment, smelling his familiar scent—the ocean, and soap and that special something that’s all him.
I shake my head, getting his t-shirt wet in the process. When I lift my head to look at him his lips are so close my breath catches in my chest.
“Tess,” he whispers. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” I answer, my voice hoarse with want.
“I have so much to tell you.”
“We should talk,” I agree.
“Can we do this first?” he asks, as he lowers his head and brushes his lips across mine. I can’t control the moan that falls from my chest. His lips make another pass over mine, and I press against him, desire flaring to life in an instant.
My tongue slips out to wet my lips and he growls, cupping the back of my head and crushing his mouth to mine. Our tongues intertwine, and we perform a choreography that’s familiar yet tantalizingly new.
Our breath comes fast, and our bodies arch against one another, both of us craving something so near yet so far. I stroke his stubbly cheek with my palm, my other hand finding the silky hair at the nape of his neck. It’s longer than it used to be, and I relish the soft curls.
“Tess,” he gasps, pulling away and giving me a series of small kisses along my jaw. “We need to talk.” When did he become the voice of reason?
I pull back, tucking my hands back into my jacket pockets. “Okay. You’re right.”
He smiles at me, but it’s strained, and I can’t help but notice that he adjusts his jeans surreptitiously as we walk to the bench and pick up our espressos.
“This is perfect,” I say as I take my first sip.
“I remember how you like it,” he says, shrugging.
We both pause and sip some more.
“So are you going to tell me what you’re doing here
?”
“Yeah, princess,” he says, a warm smile on his face. “I am.”
Niko
Tess is more beautiful than even my memory made her. Her blonde hair is floating around her face in the slight breeze that blows up off the lake, and her big blue eyes gaze at me, so open and genuine it’s like I can see into her soul.
“I’m not sure where to start,” I say, looking out over the water. “I guess from the beginning.”
She nods, encouraging me to spill some of the hardest months of my life.
I’m Greek, and I come from a culture known first and foremost for its great storytelling, so I decide to tell Tess a story—the story of me.
“After you left,” I begin, “I went and turned myself in, hoping to take the blame so that Christos wouldn’t go to prison.”
She looks at me and tears well up in her eyes. “I know,” she whispers.
I smile. “But some stubborn woman I know wouldn’t let that happen. How can I ever thank you for what you did for me and for Christos? I’ve spoken to your brother and your dad several times, but I didn’t want to approach you until my life was under control.”
She nods. She gets it. She’s always understood me, even when I wasn’t so sure about myself.
“After they released me and told me about the deal that your dad negotiated, they brought formal charges against Ari.” I still can’t bring myself to call him Dad. We talk when we can, and my mother pushes at me to be more forgiving, but the man destroyed everything that mattered to me in this world, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see him without seeing that too.
“There were a lot of times when I didn’t leave the office for days. My uncle and I had to be on site to assist the officials while they went through the company records. At the same time, agents were at my mother’s house going through papers and computers, confiscating assets. We had to cancel most of our standing shipments, and dock the ships in Athens and Miami.” Most of those ships have been auctioned off now, the proceeds used to pay fines in the US and Greece.
“What about Christos?” Tess asks. “Is he…is he okay?”
I sigh. There’s still not a day that goes by when I don’t miss him.
“He’s okay. I mean, he’s recovered almost entirely. He’ll always have some hearing loss in one ear, and his right hand has some loss of function, but you’d never know any of it by looking at him. He got so lucky, Tess.”
“I’m glad. I’m really glad. He never deserved any of that.”
I nod. “He can’t work at Stephanos anymore, the government wouldn’t allow it, so he had to come up with something else to do with his life. You’ll never believe this, but he wants to go to medical school.”
“Really?” she asks, sounding as surprised as I felt the first time I heard.
“Yeah. All that time in the hospital I guess.”
“Good for him though.”
“Yeah. I’m really proud of him. We talk every couple of weeks. He’s living at his family’s place in Athens and getting ready to apply to med school there.”
“Your mom and your sisters?” she asks.
“They’re fine. I—” I stop, realizing that I shouldn’t put Tess in the position of knowing that I hid funds to support my mom before the officials could freeze all of our accounts. “Let’s just say I made sure they’re taken care of—always. And my uncle is watching out for them.”
“Your dad’s still waiting for trial?”
“Yeah. It’ll be months. They’ve got him in a decent place though. He seems okay. Hasn’t lost too much weight. The other inmates are white collar too, so there isn’t any physical danger.” Talking about my father in prison might be one of my least favorite things in the world, but I’m getting used to it bit by bit.
“And you?” she finally asks. “Tell me about my favorite member of the Stephanos family.”
I smile. “After the company got settled and my uncle had everything under control, I knew it was time to figure out my own shit. I had two things I was good at,” I tell her. “Ships and business.”
“So you’re doing something with both I’m guessing,” she says, a big smile breaking out across her beautiful face.
“I am. I started a company in Miami, sailing tours and lessons. I’ve got two ships there—the boat I brought from Greece that we give lessons on, and a schooner for tours. You should see her, she’s beautiful.”
I’ve been nervous to tell Tess this. When she met me I was a billionaire, the CFO of an international corporation. Now I’ve got a nice sized trust fund that the government agreed to leave alone, and a great start to a business, but my situation in the world is very different than it once was.
But when I look at her now, as I explain my business to her, all I see in her eyes is pride, and it lights a fire inside of me that makes me want to work more hours, try harder, do bigger and better things every day. If she were with me, I’d work my ass off seven days a week to put that look on her face.
“Why Miami?” she asks.
“I needed a fresh start, you know? Everyone at home—they were good to us. I know my mom and sisters will be well taken care of on the island, but I needed to be somewhere I could be me, not Ari’s son.
“I went to Miami first because I knew it, I’d lived there before, had some old contacts, and I wanted to get my feet on solid ground before I expanded to phase two of my plan.”
Her eyes get bigger and her tongue darts out of her mouth for a moment, wetting her lips. It distracts me, but I force myself to get back on track.
“I’m hoping to open a second location…here in Chicago.” I wait, my heart about to burst out of my chest.
“Here?” she asks, breathless.
“Yeah. See, there’s this woman in Chicago, and I’m in love with her. I want to be where she is, and as long as she’s somewhere with water I can have a business there, so I’m ready to follow her anywhere she goes.”
I’m not expecting it when she launches herself at me. I topple back onto the bench, her weight on me in all the right places.
She kisses me over and over until we’ve melted into one another, our lips, tongues, hands and legs meshed together in a vortex of heat and need.
“Princess,” I finally say, tearing my lips from hers. “I think it’s time to go below.”
“Definitely,” she says, a wicked smile on her face. I sit up, taking her with me until she’s straddling my lap, pressing against the hard on I’ve been sporting for the last ten minutes.
“So, I take it that was a ‘yes, please move to Chicago for me’?”
She giggles, rubbing her nose against mine. “Yes, please move to Chicago for me.”
“You don’t mind that I’m not a billionaire CFO anymore?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“All I’ve ever wanted is you,” she says. “When Niko was a billionaire I wanted him. Now that Niko is a small business owner I want him too. I’ll always want you, Niko. No matter what. You’re my one, and I love you.”
My heart soars and I warm everywhere, as if the sun decided to shine on me alone.
“You’re mine too, Princess. I can’t wait to make a whole new set of rules with you.”
We kiss once more before we go below to start on the rest of our lives.
The End.
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The Czar
Mick<
br />
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer's voice booms through the arena. "In your starting lineup tonight for the Chicago Norsemen, last year's MVP in the MidNation Conference, and All-Star Center, our very own native son, number 12, Mikhail Petrovich, The Czaaaar!"
The crowd goes nuts, and I take a couple of steps on the rubber matting that lines the entry to the rink before I hop onto the ice, brandishing my stick above my head as I take a lightning fast turn around the perimeter. When I reach my teammates I twist my outside hip around and tip my skate to the inner blade edge so that a huge cloud of ice spray lifts from the floor as I grind to a stop. I'm better at this than any skater I know, and I manage to send the crystals as high as my teammates’ faces.
"Asshole," my best friend, Deke, mutters, running the back of one arm across his face to wipe away the moisture.
I chuckle as we settle in and wait for the rest of the team to be introduced.
Fifteen minutes later the game is underway and I'm up at the boards, fighting for the puck against Andre Romero, one of the toughest defenders in the league. He's also an asshole who's known for cheap shots and a penalty record that rivals the worst in our conference.
I shove him off of me and manage to hook the puck as I do it. I charge down the ice, eyes on the opening I see between two of Romero's teammates. My D-men have them tied up, and I'm closing the gap fast, I know I can thread this little black disk through the tangle of bodies and into that pretty net waiting for it. But suddenly, it’s like a boulder fell from the sky. I'm slammed hard on my left side, I twist, bringing my stick up to protect myself, but my skate edge must catch a divot in the ice and I feel myself falling as the boulder, which is actually Romero, seems to fall right along with me.
On the way down I think about the irony that it really does seem to be happening in slow motion, yet, it's at the speed of light. I hear the ligament snap as my knee twists up under me, and the pain is so sharp and sudden that the wind leaves my lungs in a paralyzing rush. I've got my lips open a bit like a fish, desperately trying to grasp a mouthful of oxygen, when things go from bad to worse. The impact with the ice is hard, but the weight of two hundred and fifty pounds of Andre Romero crushing me is worse, and the shattering pain that spreads through my hip as bone meets bone is the worst of all.
The Heir: A Standalone Greek Billionaire Romance Page 21