CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
A TLAS BARELY SLEPT .
After leaving Stella’s bag outside her door, and knocking briefly to tell her it was there, he worked himself into exhaustion in the fitness room, then went to bed in the primary bedroom on the top floor.
He felt her two floors beneath him, though. He felt every roll of her body between the sheets, heard every sigh. He held the scent of her skin in his nostrils and imagined the brush of her hair against his cheek.
Had he pushed her too far, too fast? She’d had her legs around his waist and had bucked beneath him. She had pulled her shirt up herself and said “yes.”
Her climax had been so sweet, her aftermath so buttery soft, he’d wanted to eat her up.
Then he’d said something that made her freeze up. Was it the condoms? He was always careful to protect himself and his partner. He was diligent about consent and always conscious of the power dynamics between himself and his lovers.
Taking advantage of the help was too much like his father, but this entire scandal was too much like one of Oliver’s sordid affairs. No matter what happened between him and Stella, it would have repercussions around Atlas taking over DVE. He really should pick the option of sending her back to Zermatt with whatever protection she needed and get on with his life.
He might have seriously considered it if he hadn’t been so immersed in their kiss that he’d nearly joined her when she climaxed.
With a frustrated curse, he threw off the covers and decided to swim off his frustration, remembering as he pulled on a robe that he didn’t have a swimsuit, which was par for the course right now.
To hell with it. He’d swim naked. It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe he’d get lucky and Stella would join him.
He half expected she had snowshoed out of here in the dead of night, but he glanced into the ski room on his way to the pool and saw her boots and jacket were still there.
An hour later, he showered off the salt water and took the elevator to the main floor, where he entered an aroma of coffee and pastries.
Stella was in a robe, sitting at the island eating fruit with yogurt and muesli.
“Good morning,” he said, testing the waters.
“Good morning.” She sounded subdued, but her eyes were bruised with sleeplessness. “I can make eggs if you want a bigger breakfast.”
“My staff should be here soon.” He moved to the espresso maker, set his cup and selected cappuccino.
As he waited for it to whir and pour, he felt his phone vibrate in his robe pocket.
Zamos. Atlas had remembered to text him last night to cancel the heli-ski and let him know he was staying here in Cervinia. He had invited Zamos and his wife to lunch. It was a long shot, since the other couple would have seen the headlines by now, but he was loath to pass up a chance to connect with the man.
Atlas wouldn’t have been surprised if Zamos ghosted him, but the reply had been:
Our son is teething. We’re staying in today. You’re welcome to join us here for lunch.
Huh. Zamos and his wife were an extraordinarily popular power couple. His wife was known especially for her shrewd recon skills gleaned through gossip and other social connections. Was she trying to get an early scoop on Atlas’s personal life?
Atlas replied, then pushed his phone back into his pocket and picked up the filled coffee cup. When he turned, Stella was watching him with a somber expression.
He started to say, “About last night—”
“I need to tell you something.” She spoke over him, looking and sounding so grave, he tensed.
“About your father?”
“What? No.” Her brows came together in confusion. Then she tilted her head. “Because I said he might become a problem, publicity-wise? No. Um. No, I don’t think he knows yet. We’ll circle back to that. No, this is about, um, last night. I’m really embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.” It was an erotic memory he would cherish for the rest of his life.
“Not just about…” She blushed and looked into her bowl.
“You don’t owe me any explanations. No means no. I’m fine with it.” He reached out to set his cup on the place mat next to hers and picked up a plate, helping himself to a croissant she must have warmed in the oven.
“No, that’s not—I didn’t mean to cry. It was a very weird day and you’re… you . You’re a lot, Atlas.”
“That sounds like an accusation,” he said drily. “I’m not sure what my crime is.”
“I don’t do this.” She closed her eyes, face bright red. “I didn’t know what to say. How to tell you that I’m new to this.”
“Because I mentioned ground rules? I’m not into anything kinky.” Although he definitely could be, if she had something in mind. “I only meant we should be clear about our expectations. Don’t you usually talk things out beforehand?”
“No. I mean, yes. I’ve definitely had that conversation.” She kept stirring her yogurt without taking any. “It’s always been a very quick no. Which usually puts an end to the conversation. Kind of like last night.”
He paused with his croissant halfway to his mouth, plate at the ready to catch the crumbs, thinking he understood, but also thinking he couldn’t possibly be hearing her correctly.
“Always?” he clarified.
“Every single time,” she said with a firm nod, gaze fixed on her spoon.
He set the pastry back on the plate and rubbed his fingertips against his thumb. The whisper of noise was the only sound until he cleared his throat.
“You’re…”
“Don’t call me that,” she warned. “Talk about a crime. People virgin-shame as much as they slut-shame.”
“You’re twenty-three,” he finished. “And very sensual.”
“You don’t know that,” she muttered.
“You smelled everything as you were cooking last night. It looked and tasted delicious. You wear cashmere and keep petting your robe. You blush every time I look at you as though you feel it.”
“I’m blushing because I was raised to believe that wanting sex is a sin!” she cried. “Especially outside marriage. Which doesn’t mean I’m holding out for that. That’s not what I’m saying.” She put out a stalling hand. “I’m saying that, until recently, I hadn’t met anyone who seemed, you know, worth risking going to hell for.”
He supposed that was a joke, but had to ask, “Recently? Or five years ago?”
“Both,” she threw at him with annoyance. “Getting fired for something that wasn’t my fault was awful, but what you did was worse. You set the bar up here.” She marked a spot in the air above her head. “Everyone who came after you was bland in comparison. I was waiting to feel something again and of course it had to be you .”
Atlas set aside his plate, equally frustrated. “Why the hell do you think I never slept with Iris?”
“You have not gone five years without sex.”
“No.” He felt inexplicably chagrined as he made that admission. “But I thought the way I felt with you that night must have been a secondhand high from those lunatics in the tub. I’ve looked for chemistry like it ever since and never found it. Not until I saw you again.”
“Don’t say things like that,” she said crossly. “I’m gullible enough to buy it. If you want to talk ground rules, I insist on honesty. Don’t play on my lack of experience.”
“Honesty is rule number one for me, too,” he shot back. “Tied with monogamy.”
“I think I’ve established that other men are not a problem,” she grumbled.
“Good.” Was he smug? Hell, yes. “I had this week booked as vacation. We can go anywhere you like, but seeing as I have a party in London on the weekend, I suggest Paris or Milan, to find you something to wear. You’ll need cocktail dresses, too. You’ll have a little time for shopping when we’re in Athens, but we can order them now for Australia.”
“What? No. I can’t.” Her eyes flared with shock.
“Why the hell not?” If she had yanked a leash tied around his neck, he couldn’t have been more irritated or thwarted.
* * *
“Because I have to be back at work next week and gadding about with you would only make things worse.” Stella’s body was aching from a restless night. Her eyes were dry and her mind still in turmoil. “I put in a request for personal time this week.” To deal with her father, but she kept that to herself. “Hopefully, things will die down again by Monday, but I help my stepmother with expenses so I can’t risk losing my job.”
“Screw your job. I’ll cover whatever you need as long as we’re together.”
“I’m not taking money for sex! That’s not the kind of relationship I want with you.” She had friends who went into Sugar Daddy situations and good for them. She didn’t care how other adults conducted themselves, but relying financially on a man was not for her. “I thought about this a lot last night and I’ve realized…” She drew a breath and let it out with the decision she’d made in the predawn hours. “Sex needs to happen or I’ll never get over you.”
Stella wasn’t sure how she had expected Atlas to react. Invite her to his bedroom, perhaps? He seemed like a man of action, but he only stared at her, expression inscrutable.
As the potent silence grew, the rat-a-tat of an approaching helicopter intensified.
“That’s my staff.” He looked toward a window that faced the helipad.
She slid off the stool and moved to where she could see it.
“That’s huge!” A helicopter three times the size of the one they’d arrived in descended onto the pad. It had a row of four windows and she saw silhouettes in every one of them. “How many people is that? I’ll get dressed.”
“Don’t bother. They brought fresh clothes for you.”
She wasn’t about to meet a dozen strangers in a bathrobe.
She went to shower and emerged to find bags of Davenwear on her bed: yoga pants and velour joggers and smart hiking trousers. There were sports bras with more cross straps than a spider’s web, fitted T-shirts and snuggle-soft pullovers.
She tried on the black yoga pants with the flared pant leg. The V-neck T-shirt plunged to make the most of her cleavage and the pink chenille jacket was like pulling on a hug. She instantly felt relaxed yet able to run a marathon.
When she came upstairs, she found a half dozen strangers busily working off laptops and scribbling on pads, preparing snacks and wiping down tables. They all treated her the way she treated guests at the hotel, pausing to acknowledge her with cheerful eagerness to please.
Atlas was in a meeting in the den, she was told. She accepted a coffee and retreated to her room to browse for an apartment for her father. He had gone to the hotel under duress, mostly because Elijah had told him Grettina would use the room if he didn’t.
After an hour or so, heavy footsteps approached her open door. Atlas appeared. He had shaved and wore jeans with a collared shirt beneath a dark blue pullover. His expression was still remote enough to make her stomach sink. Why did he seem so angry with her? She had told him she would have sex with him. Wasn’t that what he wanted?
“We have a lunch date. We need to leave in fifteen minutes,” he informed her.
“Where are we going?” She looked down at her clothes and touched the plain braid she was wearing down the front of her shoulder.
“Rafael and Alexandra Zamos have invited us to their chalet. You don’t need to change. I want to keep it casual. I’ve been trying to connect with him for years and he’s finally giving me an opening, but this is a social visit. Were you given ski pants? We’re taking the snowmobile. They might be in the ski room.” He vanished from the doorway like smoke.
She quickly looked up the couple they were meeting. They were very rich, which was no surprise since they were contemporaries of Atlas. Rafael seemed self-made after getting his start in shipping. His wife was an American heiress who had attended boarding school in Europe.
“Do you think they’re expecting you to bring Iris?” she asked when she met Atlas in the ski room.
“When I canceled the heli-skiing, I told Rafael that Iris had gone back to London. His wife stays on top of gossip and instructed him to ask me if it would be four for lunch so I’m confident they know who I’m bringing. If you’re uncomfortable at any time, tell me. We’ll leave.”
And quash a relationship he’d been chasing for years?
“I’m surprised you haven’t run into them in Athens. They live there,” she said as she pulled on periwinkle-blue ski pants over her yoga pants, then adjusted the suspenders.
“After my mother died, I sold the taverna and didn’t go back to Greece for years. I only bought my home in Athens recently with a plan to be there more often. I haven’t had much chance to use it yet. I travel a lot.”
“I’m so sorry. When did you lose her?”
“About a year before I met you. Breast cancer.” He zipped his jacket.
“Is that when you went to live with your father?” The timing didn’t seem right.
“No.” He handed her a helmet so she could fit the straps.
He didn’t offer any context on his childhood, firmly keeping walls in place between them.
“Do you want your own machine?” he asked.
“Not unless you want me to have my own. I can get from A to B if the terrain isn’t too challenging, but I’m not very good.”
“Ride with me, then.” They finished bundling up.
Outside, he let her settle onto the seat first. It was fitted with a passenger seat behind his that was positioned a little higher and had a small backrest.
When she nodded, he straddled the seat in front of her. They checked that the headsets were connected and he started the engine, then told her, “Hold on.”
She snugged herself into his lower back and leaned forward to fold her gloves on the front of his chest.
He took it slowly across the unbroken snow, but the blanket was so powdery, it kicked up around them like bubbles of champagne, making her grin.
A moment later, he arrived on the packed track and opened the throttle.
It was a sunny day, turning up the contrast of white snow against blue sky. Their speed rippled her clothes and she had an excuse to hang on a little tighter. It felt glorious, even if there were thick, insulated layers between them.
He slowed a few times and stood to take them through some crests and dips, but within the half hour they were in the more populated outskirts of Cervinia. He followed a track upward toward a beautiful older chalet that backed onto a forest and had a view of the valley. It had the charm of a well-loved private home and the staff exuded an air of ownership as they took their helmets and outerwear.
A gorgeous couple stood as they were shown into a sumptuous living room. Rafael was tall and dark like Atlas and almost as handsome. Alexandra was the epitome of American beauty with a slender, elegant figure, shiny ash-blond hair and confidence that radiated like sunshine. She wore leggings with a tunic-style top and minimal makeup, which immediately put Stella at ease that she wasn’t underdressed.
Alexandra’s curious gaze skimmed her, seeming to note Atlas’s hand in her lower back.
The inspection made Stella brace for a judgy remark, but Alexandra only said, “We were so relieved when Rafael saw your text that you weren’t skiing. Atticus is teething and had us up half the night. I really didn’t want to leave him when he’s not feeling well so it was nice to have an excuse for a lazy day. Shall we have a drink in the sunroom before we eat?”
“This is a beautiful chalet,” Stella murmured as they walked through to the closed-in terrace. Overstuffed furniture was draped with colorful knit throws and tasseled cushions. A small gas fireplace kept it cozy while the windows overlooked snow-covered trees, village rooftops and the rugged mountainside.
“The decor is unique, isn’t it?” Rafael sent an amused glance to the chandelier made of deer antlers. “It belongs to our friend’s grandfather. He bought it when he married sixty-odd years ago. They only allow family to use it, so I guess that makes us family?” He directed the last to his wife with a tone of discovery.
Alexandra gave him a look that was filled with the sort of private joke amusement that only a couple perfectly attuned to each other’s thoughts could share.
Stella immediately felt a stab of envy, wondering if she would ever have that with anyone. Not with Atlas. She cut him a glance, unable to read him at all and feeling rebuffed. She’d told him she wanted him to be her first and he had been cool ever since. Was that the issue? Was he turned off by her lack of experience?
He caught her looking at him and a spearing sensation went into her chest, one that emanated painful heat through the rest of her body.
His expression altered, not softening exactly, but asking a question. She gave him a small smile. She was fine. They didn’t have to leave.
“I won’t ask why you decided to come to this side,” Alexandra said drily while looking between them as though she’d seen their byplay. “It sounds like you live in Zermatt, Stella?”
“I do. I grew up near Bern, but I moved to Zermatt when I was eighteen.”
“You’re lucky. This is a beautiful part of the world.” Alexandra leaned forward to pick up her Aperol spritz, adding in a self-deprecating tone, “I say that like I want it for myself. The truth is, our son is an excuse. I was already complaining it was too cold to ski. I always think snow sports are a fun idea until I arrive on the mountain and remember that snow does not fall in temperatures anywhere near seventy degrees.”
“Sasha is a delicate hothouse orchid,” Rafael teased, picking up her free hand and kissing her knuckles. “I’ll take everyone skiing when they arrive,” he promised her. “You can stay with Atticus if you want to.”
“That’s probably the only way I’ll get to hold my own baby,” she said ruefully.
Stella tried not to stare, but they epitomized what she wanted in a relationship—someone who knew her well and offered casual affection and had a nickname for her. Someone whose small shows of support demonstrated deep understanding and indulgence. Someone who loved her the way Rafael clearly loved his wife.
She caught Atlas studying her again and replaced whatever yearning was on her face with a helpful smile. “Please let me know if you decide to ski our side. I can connect you with anything you might need—passes, guides…”
It was something she did regularly as part of her job, but she thought she felt Atlas stiffen as she said it. Why couldn’t she do anything right around him?
“Good to know. Thank you.” Rafael nodded with appreciation.
The conversation meandered from ski conditions to the book on the table—a romance that Stella had been meaning to pick up for herself—to whether this or that person was reputed to be in town.
Stella didn’t feel too excluded by the name-dropping. She was familiar with the lofty families and celebrities who owned homes or made regular visits to the area. She even contributed snippets of intel on who was likely to make an appearance at which time of year.
Alexandra was an absolute queen as a hostess, guiding them to the dining room and keeping the conversation moving without being intrusive. They were finishing dessert when she abruptly rose.
“That’s Atticus.” She nodded to the maid, who had come in with a baby monitor. “We gave the nanny the day off so I’ll get him. He’s liable to give you a cold shoulder since he’s not feeling well, but would you like to meet him?” she asked Stella.
“I’d love to,” Stella said sincerely, even though she suspected an ulterior motive in being asked to come upstairs.
Alexandra asked the maid to prepare a bottle and led Stella to the nursery, where she gathered up the infant who was fussing in the crib. He wore fuzzy blue pants with a matching shirt and had lost a slipper during his nap. He rubbed his face into his mama’s shoulder as she cradled him there.
“Your bottle is coming, little man,” Alexandra soothed, petting his sweaty curls and straightening his clothes.
“He’s gorgeous.” Stella tilted her head to glimpse his flushed cheek and dark eyes and the pudgy fist he was gnawing. “How old is he?”
“Six months. He was premature, so more like four. His teeth are on the early side, if we count from his due date.” Alexandra patted his diaper to ensure it didn’t need changing. “The truth is, I’d always rather be home with him,” she confided. “Whether he’s happy or grumpy. He’s our little miracle. I only agreed to ski today because the men were doing the heli thing and Iris would have— Never mind. I’m speaking out of turn.”
Stella doubted Alexandra ever made a social misstep. She was providing an opening for Stella to spill some tea on Iris or Atlas or herself.
“Not at all.” Even before she had worked with the public, Stella had learned how to walk the thorny spaces around telling the truth without implicating herself or blaming anyone else. “I can’t speak for Iris or her reasons for leaving, but the photos completely skewed a very tame story. Atlas and I met when he came to Zermatt five years ago. We hadn’t seen each other until yesterday. The only reason I’m here with him today is wingman. I think he was hoping for exactly this—that I would chat with you and give him a chance to talk privately with your husband.”
“Yes, I know,” Alexandra said with a good-natured smirk. “That’s why I invited you up here. Ah. Thank you.” She gratefully took the bottle from the tray as it was delivered, then offered it to the baby, sinking into the rocking chair as he took it. “I’m not prying, Stella. People think I’m a gossip because I listen to it, but I don’t repeat it. Not to anyone but Rafael. He and I are a team. We protect each other by sharing what we learn about the players on the other teams.”
“That’s an overstatement of my relationship with Atlas,” Stella assured her. She absently plucked the rumpled blanket from the crib and folded it, leaving it across the rail. “I don’t actually know him very well at all. I don’t think that’s something he allows and I’m just as guilty of keeping to myself. Maybe we’re all like that.” She perched on the edge of the daybed and tucked her hands between her knees.
“Guarded? Life knocks us around and makes us that way, doesn’t it?” Alexandra was looking tenderly to her baby. Her smile held a poignant quality. “Sometimes letting your guard down pays off, though. It does with this little one. And Rafael, of course.”
“How did you know you’d be safe to do that with Rafael?” Stella asked curiously.
“I didn’t,” Alexandra said with a rueful shake of her head. “Not at first. Honestly, I don’t think you can know until you take that leap of faith and find out. It’s a gamble.”
Stella shook her head, already knowing she didn’t have the courage for high-risk stakes like that. She steered the conversation back to Atticus and his teeth.
* * *
As the women left, Rafael invited Atlas into the den.
He was reluctant to be out of earshot for Stella. Rafael’s wife seemed unfazed by his bringing her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a cat behind closed doors. His own sister could turn from syrup to strychnine in a heartbeat.
Despite her inner strength and determination, Stella was also sensitive and inexperienced. He was still processing that she’d never had sex. It made no difference to him beyond the fact that she needed a slower pace than she might have if she’d had other lovers.
No, he was far more disturbed that she wanted to end their affair within the week. His brain had nearly exploded at that. Hell no. There was no way a week would be long enough to burn out this chemistry between them.
She wouldn’t let him support her, either.
That’s not the kind of relationship I want with you .
She’d made his offer sound tawdry when he was only trying to facilitate her spending as much time as possible with him. He was in demand around the world. He wanted her with him and, if she had worries like a stepmother who struggled to make ends meet, he wanted to alleviate that for her.
“You went to considerable trouble to get this meeting. Let’s get to it.” Rafael closed the door, but didn’t sit or invite him to. He leaned his hips on the desk, comfortable, but no longer the amiable host. Now he was pure CEO.
“You’ve avoided me for years,” Atlas pointed out. “Are you now seeing there are several fronts where DVE could partner with Zamos International and benefit both?”
“I’ve always seen opportunities between our two companies,” Rafael said blithely. “I approached your father eight years ago with a proposal and he slammed the door in my face. It wasn’t a business decision. It was personal. He saw me as an upstart, which I was, but he wanted to keep me down. He wasn’t the only one who treated me that way. I don’t forget a single person that did.” Or forgive, was the heavier implication.
Typical Oliver. He believed himself better than everyone else and therefore entitled to the success he enjoyed. He didn’t even work for it. He succeeded in spite of his bloated sense of self-worth, not because of it. The reality was, Atlas had been responsible for most of the gains at DVE in the last five years. The board knew it, even if Oliver refused to admit it.
“I’m not my father,” Atlas said simply.
“No?” Rafael didn’t look to the ceiling where the murmur of the women’s voices could be heard, but Atlas recognized the comparison to Oliver’s serial philandering.
“No,” he asserted, but it felt less than true when he was jockeying for an affair with an innocent whose advantages were considerably fewer than his own. “I’d love to say yours is the only bridge Oliver has burned over the years. It’s not. I’m doing my best to rebuild them. We have very different approaches. Give me a chance to prove that and I will.”
“Is there any truth to the rumor you’re taking over DVE?” Rafael asked bluntly.
“Oliver’s retirement plans are confidential.” Judging by Oliver’s scathing email reacting to the photos of Atlas with Stella, those plans were postponed indefinitely.
“You’re aware that Zamos closed with Casella Corporation last year? We’re on the brink of a huge expansion.”
Atlas gave a curt nod. It was the reason he had pushed so hard to meet with Rafael. Zamos International would be looking for funds to support and sustain the growth he was projecting. “That’s why I wanted to meet with you.”
“Now is the time to hammer out a letter of understanding, so our companies can expand together,” Rafael said. “The most obvious is the volume of DVE products that Zamos can transport, but there are other areas where we can dovetail.”
“Agreed.” Triumph flared in Atlas. Closing a lucrative deal like this with Rafael would give him the leverage he needed with the board to support his takeover at DVE
“But I won’t negotiate anything with DVE as long as Oliver is at the top,” Rafael said flatly. “I don’t trust him.”
That punched the breath out of him.
If Atlas had been engaged to Iris rather than coming off this scandal with Stella, he might have had a shot at persuading the board to support him in replacing Oliver against his will, but right now he looked as impulsive and supercilious as Oliver.
There was a creak of floorboards above them.
“That’s the women coming down. If things on your end change within the next few months, you and I will have a lot to talk about. After that, I’ll be looking in other directions.” Rafael moved to the door. “You have my number.”
Atlas had come so far on his quest to claim his birthright. It was infuriating to have it set out of his reach again .
His frustration was blistering his insides as they walked out to the living room where Stella cradled a blanket-wrapped infant.
Atlas hadn’t consciously recognized the itch of absence that had invaded his chest until it dissipated when he saw her. She was fine. Glowing even.
“Where’s Sasha?” Rafael frowned with concern toward the stairs.
“Changing. He spit up on her.” Stella’s voice lilted with humor. “I offered to bring him down to you, but honestly, I want to keep him.” Her arms firmed in a gentle hug around the baby before she gave him up to his father. “He’s absolutely precious.”
Her expression of longing caused a near-audible click in Atlas’s head, one that was like the wheels of a combination lock aligning to open a vault. Inside, the solution sat as though it had been there all along, waiting for discovery.
The seeds of this idea had actually been sown when she had said she was raised to believe she should wait for marriage, then told him she would only give him the rest of the week. He’d balked, instinctually knowing that wasn’t enough time, but what would be? A month? A year?
And while he was indulging himself with her, he would only put off his search for the wife he was being pressured to take, to earn the board’s support of his leadership at DVE.
What if she was his wife, though?
His mind began to race so quickly, he barely heard them continue speaking.
“He’s on his best behavior now,” Rafael scoffed good-naturedly. He protectively cupped his son’s head as he dropped a kiss on his cheek, then tucked him against his shoulder. “You should have heard the names he was calling me last night.”
“Slander. He’s been a perfect gentleman as long as I’ve known him. But I gave Alexandra the name of a teething gel I always recommend to guests. If you have trouble finding it here, let me know. I know where to get it in Zermatt and can have it sent over.”
“We’d appreciate that.”
Alexandra returned and offered coffee.
“It sounds like you have busy days ahead, once your family arrives,” Atlas said. “We won’t take up any more of your time.” Besides, he had his own plans to leap on. “We’ll see you again soon, though. Athens, likely.” He used we deliberately. And soon .
Rafael’s eyes narrowed shrewdly as they shook hands and departed.
* * *
“How did your meeting with Rafael go?” Stella asked as she set her helmet on the shelf in the ski room back at their own chalet.
“Good.” Atlas set aside his boots and gave her a look she couldn’t interpret.
“I thought it must have gone very well.” He’d had a gleam of purpose in his eye when he and Rafael had joined her in the living room. A determined sort of energy had been coming off him as he’d sped them back here to the chalet. It was still there, practically shooting out in rays that wrapped around her to draw her in. “When you told Rafael that we would see them in Athens, I wondered if that meant you were getting lawyers or some other team together. It sounded promising.”
“I was referring to you.”
“Me?” She hung her jacket and slipped her suspenders off her shoulders, stripping down to the light jacket and yoga pants she wore beneath. “I can’t go to Athens. When? For how long? I only have a few days off and I may have to visit my family.”
“We’re going to deal with your family together, Stella, because I have a new proposal for you. A real one. Marriage .”