CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
S TELLA DIDN ’ T KNOW what to make of the fierce light in Atlas’s expression so she held up her arm, speaking to both of them.
“They said the fracture was small enough a splint would be enough support while it heals.”
“That’s good,” Carmel said. “Your sister has gone with her friend and I’m off to Milan for some research and development. That’s what I call shopping.” Carmel wrinkled her nose. “Now I’ll go talk to the press so you two don’t have to. Don’t worry. I’ll make it all about me,” she added toward Atlas.
It must have worked because only a few photographers lingered when Stella had dressed and was finally discharged.
By then, she was utterly done in, even though it was only late afternoon.
“Where are we going?” she asked with confusion as his driver took them to a private airfield.
“You said you wanted to go to Zermatt.”
“Oh.” She had thought he would insist on Athens or London. She had hoped he would insist she come home with him.
“No?” he prodded.
“Yes,” she decided, even though it took all her effort to hold on to her composure. She needed to know that when her world fell apart and she was left to fend for herself, she could . But she was going to struggle to say goodbye to him again.
He came aboard the helicopter with her.
“You’re coming with me?”
“Yes.” He frowned, but didn’t hesitate to take the seat next to hers.
She nearly wept with relief. She was so tired from her sleepless night on the train and distressful morning, she didn’t fight the drop of her head onto his shoulder as they lifted off.
She snapped awake when she felt something soft touch her brow.
He lifted his mouth away from the kiss against her forehead. “We’re here.”
“Oh.” She was completely disoriented.
This had been the longest day of her life, but the sun was only sinking against the mountain peaks, not yet fully down. It had only been two months since they’d left, but the snow was gone from the valley bottom and the meadows were bright green.
“This is my favorite time of year,” she told him as they left the helicopter and walked toward a waiting e-taxi. “Do you mind if we walk?”
Neither of them had luggage and he was still in the suit he’d put on for his board meeting. She wore the yoga pants and the loose top she’d been wearing when her father had arrived. When she crossed her arms against the breeze, Atlas took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“This is where I walked when I arrived the first time,” she said as she led him to the bridge that crossed the river. “I didn’t know the city so I came all this way from the train station before I realized I should have gone the other way. I was so frightened and angry. I didn’t have any sort of plan. I only knew I was going to show him.” She laughed at her vague, juvenile goal.
Atlas didn’t, but he was watching her, listening intently.
“It was autumn and so pretty, all golden. I fell in love with the mountains and the freedom to make a mistake and go the wrong way. Everything was hard—finding a place to live…cleaning up after drunks… But lots of young people were here, making it all seem doable.” Seasonaires arrived every winter to work and finance their ski habit. She’d felt like one of them. “At first, I thought everyone knew what they were doing except me. I felt like an ugly duckling among swans.”
He made a noise of disagreement.
“I did. I was tall and didn’t know what was trendy and wore awful clothes. But after a while I realized no one had anything figured out. That’s when I began to find my place here. To know who I was. People liked me. They valued me at work. I had friends who were in my same boat, broke and eating noodles in a cup and were behind on whatever classes they were taking.”
She waved at an acquaintance across the river who motioned Call me and Drinks . She nodded, but already knew she wouldn’t be staying long enough to do it.
She had outgrown her life here. Zermatt had been her chrysalis. It was time to break free and become something bigger. But what? A backpacking explorer? An innkeeper in Greece? A CEO in a global chain of hotels?
A divorcée?
“That’s good news about DVE,” she said, testing the waters. “Congratulations.”
“I don’t care about that.” His voice was hard. His expression altered into something softer as he met her surprised gaze. “I care about you , Stella.” He swore and ran his hand over his face. “Do you have any idea how sick I felt that I let you go home alone? Even before this happened?” He motioned at her arm.
“You ‘let’ me?” She paused on the bridge to watch the water travel under her feet. “I came here the first time because I was tired of asking permission to live my own life.”
“I let you go ,” he stressed. “I pushed you away and let you think I didn’t care. I hated myself the minute you were out of my sight, but I thought I was doing the right thing.” His tone turned contrite. “How could you love me if I hated myself? I was saving you.”
“I don’t need saving, Atlas. I know how to save myself.”
“I know.” He leaned his hip next to her and covered her hand, stroking her cool knuckles where they were exposed by the plaster of her splint. “It’s something I admire so deeply in you. I hope you know that?”
She swallowed, so moved she teared up.
“What I really wanted to say was no, you can’t go. Stay in London while I’m in that meeting because I need you. You, Stella. Not a wife. You . I thought if I told you I love you, it would be coercion. Emotional blackmail. I didn’t feel I deserved your love. I still don’t.” He scowled to the other side of the bridge. “Not when I’m hoping that telling you I love you will bring you back to me.”
“It’s not coercion if it’s true . Is it?” she asked with a streak of hope jolting her heart.
“It’s as real inside me as air and blood and bone,” he said with quiet heat. “It’s so all-encompassing, saying the words isn’t enough. But if loving you means giving you your independence…” He swallowed. His gaze filled with agony. “I’ll find a way to do that.”
As she looked into eyes that wanted to hand her the world even when it would cost his soul, she saw the bigger sky and the broader universe she could fly into. The love in his eyes filled her with a sense of expansion, one that made her turn and set her good hand on his jaw.
“What if knowing you love me makes me feel free to be exactly who I am? What if I believe you’ll support me no matter what, and that makes me feel so big and powerful, I can do anything?”
His features relaxed into tenderness. Admiration. Intense joy. He cupped her face.
“What if holding you up makes me feel stronger? What if all that light inside you chases my shadows away?”
“What if we’re better together?”
“More than we would be on our own.” He nodded. “I believe we could be. Do you?”
“I do.” She said it with as much solemn conviction as the first time she’d said those words to him.
She didn’t know what their future looked like, but she already knew it would be wide and wonderful.
They kissed softly, keeping it chaste because they were in public, but it still had the impact of a thousand volts of wildly pulsing electricity. It still made her eyes sting and her heart feel too big for her chest.
“Do you want to go to my flat?” she asked.
“I’ll go anywhere with you. I thought I just made that clear.”
She’d never seen such a lighthearted gleam in his eye. They both smiled all the way to her building and held hands up the stairs.
“I like to claim I live in the penthouse,” she said of her studio apartment, since it was tucked into the rafters at the peak of the block, with only one neighbor across the landing.
“Should we keep it as a love nest?” He moved around the tiny space, taking in the childish art that the twins had made at different times, the photo of her and Beate, the framed diploma that proved she had a degree and— He frowned. “Why is there a man’s bicycle on your balcony?”
“Because I’m too tall for the ones that are marketed to women. Elijah thinks it sends a message that I don’t live alone.”
“You don’t.” Atlas closed the drapes. “Not anymore.”
She tried to pull her shirt over her head and quickly ran into a struggle thanks to the splint.
Atlas stilled her hands. “I want to hold you, but we don’t have to make love if you’re not up to it.”
“I want to,” she insisted with a pang. “I want to feel close to you.”
He kissed her, first with tender reassurance, then with the passion they had kept bottled while they’d stood on the bridge. Within moments, he was helping her undress and throwing off his own clothes.
Then he sat on the bed and drew her to straddle his lap, guiding her legs behind him once they were joined.
“I didn’t know I could love anyone this much,” she confessed as she folded her arms behind his neck and set damp kisses in his throat. “I don’t know how to make you feel it.”
“I do, though. It hurts. In a good way.” He pulled her hips tighter to his. “Like I’m using muscles I didn’t know I had.”
“Maybe you are,” she teased, smiling against his mouth, then arching to brush her breasts against his chest while clinging to his neck.
With a low groan, he gathered her and rolled so she was on her back. Now he had all the leverage, but she didn’t mind that he was taking charge. She trusted him to give her what she needed. He always did.
Afterward, they lay tangled under the covers, nude and replete, not speaking, only caressing and enjoying the closeness.
“I have to be in London tomorrow,” he said eventually. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
“I’m going to tell them I’ll work out of Athens.”
She nodded. “I’d like that.”
He rolled onto his elbow and set his hand on her stomach. His lips parted, then he seemed to think better of what he wanted to say.
“What?” she prompted.
His gaze was rueful. “I was looking for you when I came here with Iris. Not actively. I genuinely believed you would have moved on by now, but I couldn’t help keeping an eye out. Then I nearly walked right into you and I knew I couldn’t marry her. I didn’t want to admit it, not in the moment, but I knew. You’re laughing at me.”
“No,” she said, but she was smiling. “I’m laughing at us.”
She rose and walked naked to the wardrobe where she pulled a boot box from the shelf. She set it on the bed so he could open it.
“I thought so many times about sending this to you with a note. It felt too desperate.”
When he shook off the lid and found his own clothes, he chuckled.
“This is convenient. I thought I was going to have to wear one of your dresses when I run out to collect dinner.” He rose and pulled on the pants. “They still look better on you. Although…” He drew her into his arms. “Naked will always be my favorite color on you.”
She looped her arms behind his neck, liking the brush of his chest hair against her breasts.
“You were a dream for me. A fantasy. One I didn’t think could come true.” She hugged him and looked around at the home she’d made for herself. “I’ll miss this place, but I’m looking forward to dreaming new dreams with you and seeing them come true.”
“Me, too. But if one of your fantasies includes dinner tonight, I suggest you put on some clothes or I’m taking mine off and we won’t leave that bed until morning.”
“I have cans of soup.”
“Decision made.” He tumbled her onto the bed.