Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
W illow
Bastard.
Asshole.
Jerk.
How many more names could I allow to swell inside my weary brain? Commanding me to stay in my room. Who did he think he was, God?
Not just in stature either.
My temple still ached, no doubt from the level of anger that swirled within me.
Why was happiness fleeting?
Why was the world such a dangerous place?
And why was it that I couldn’t get Dimitrios out of my mind?
The questions would haunt me for days. Weeks. I sat curled up on the bed, the notepad Eleni had brought me untouched. I even had the pen in my hand, trying to find solace in creating something special for my parents. Nothing came to me. Nothing good at least.
I’d learned about the various stages of grief and I was quickly moving into the furious stage.
Angry with God.
Angry with Shane.
Angry with my parents for daring to leave me.
Angry with myself.
And most of all, furious with Dimitrios.
He was so fucking cavalier about what was going on, almost acting as if bloodshed and violence were nothing more than a typical part of the day. Meanwhile, I’d never been faced with anything so horrible in my life. Maybe I had rose-colored glasses on, refusing to acknowledge the reality of the ugly world.
I tossed the pen across the bed, dropping my head into my hands. What the hell was wrong with people?
Maybe it was good I didn’t have time to feel any sorrier for myself than I already was; the light knock on the door interrupted me from wallowing in my pain.
“Yes?” My stomach lurched, the butterflies inside swarming as excitement tore through me. Maybe it was Dimitrios. There I went again, fantasizing about a merciless man.
Eleni opened the door tentatively, peering inside as if I might toss a bomb in her direction. She had her hands loaded with a tray and something draped over her arm.
“I’m sorry to… bother you.” Her lovely face was furrowed with a frown.
“It’s fine. Not like I’m going anywhere.” My stomach flipped in a different way when I gathered a whiff of something that smelled delicious. While the thought of eating in these conditions riled me, my tummy had other ideas in mind. I was famished.
“I brought you something.”
On her tray was something steaming plus a carafe of red wine and a glass. She carefully walked inside, placing the tray on the end of the bed since there wasn’t a table and chairs meant for eating food.
“What did you do?”
She blushed and pulled open the domed lid. “I thought you might be… homesick. I had the chef make you an American pot pie. Chicken. And wine of course. The finest cabernet. Oh, I hope you like red wine.”
It was such a kind gesture, it brought tears to my eyes. She almost seemed as if she would panic from my reaction. “No, I’m fine. This is… amazing.”
Eleni was still clinging onto something. As she placed the items next to the tray of food, another blush formed on her already rosy cheeks. “You have no clothes. Yes?”
“No clothes.” There was no reason to go into why.
“I brought you a few things. Just for now.”
I didn’t think anything could touch me so much, but the effort she’d gone to allowed me to feel a touch of normalcy in a chaotic and disturbing world. “You are so sweet. Thank you so much. I won’t get them dirty.”
At least she laughed. “Play clothes.”
“ Sas efcharistó .” While I knew very little in Greek, I’d learned please and, more important, thank you.
Her eyes opened wide. “You are very welcome. I will leave you alone.”
I watched her walk out and when she turned slightly, studying me in a way I knew she had something to say, I forced my face to brighten.
“Mr. Nomikos is a good man. He will never hurt you.”
No, Mr. Nomikos is a certifiable asshole.
I wanted to tell her that he already had by destroying the tiny bubble I’d placed around myself regarding him.
But I chose not to.
“I hope so.”
She walked out, closing the door behind her and I realized immediately she hadn’t locked it. A mistake or a mandate? While I couldn’t be certain, I wasn’t going to forgo the slight freedom.
Plus, I was starving. After pouring some wine, I held the glass in the air. A gourmet meal for a girl who might be on death row.
The thought was revolting but also cathartic. I had no one in my corner, no safety mechanism. For all I knew, if I dared contact Athena again or made it to her house, Dimitrios would kill her. I couldn’t risk losing anyone else.
The fork in hand, I plunged the tines deep into the center, allowing steam to rise. There was no reason for me to be upset that delicious food was being served to me, but tears slipped past my lashes again. How had everything in my life vanished?
As I took a tentative bite, bitter sobs almost derailed my chance to enjoy such a fabulous dinner. I choked them back, taking tiny bites to keep my stomach from rejecting the fabulous food. The chef had done an amazing job of bringing me a slice of home.
Just thinking about the house we’d left, every room messy given our hurry to make it to the airport in time, I knew going back would be one of the toughest things I’d be forced to do. Then there were the funerals to plan and the people to call, bills to sort out and…
And…
I reached again for the carafe of wine, pouring the glass full. At least the taste, a sweet combination of blackberries and a slight hint of basil, was welcoming. Maybe I’d be able to keep everything down.
As I continued digging into the pie, I was shocked how hungry I really was. When I looked down again, I realized I’d eaten almost three quarters of it. And the pot pie was huge, big pieces of tender chicken the main ingredient. Guilt tore through me finally and I pushed the tray away. How could I eat when my parents were lying in a cold morgue somewhere?
I hadn’t been able to say goodbye.
What if their bodies weren’t released to the United States?
No, I couldn’t do this to myself. Not now.
My stomach lurched and I was fearful I’d vomit. I rushed into the bathroom, gripping the edge of the counter as I tried to keep that from happening. There was a girl staring back at me in the mirror I didn’t recognize. She seemed helpless where the one I remembered had been brought up strong and resilient. Her eyes were dead, almost as if they’d never had any life in them at all.
Even her hair was stringy, several locks caked to her neck.
“What happened to you?”
Maybe the better question was what had happened to my sanity. There was no good answer.
I suddenly felt dirty, more than I had in a long time.
With nothing but time on my hands, I decided to take a long, hot shower. Maybe if I scrubbed my skin hard enough, I’d lose all sense of feeling. That would keep grief away. Right?
As an added benefit, I could wash off Dimitrios’ odor as well. His aftershave continued to linger, filling my system with toxicity. I hated the man and all he stood for. The last thing I wanted to do was to smell like him.
Eleni had brought a dress and a pair of pants that were drawstring along with another shirt. Why she’d think I’d put on something sexy was beyond me. I hadn’t gone to sleep only to wake up in every girl’s fantasy.
I’d awakened to a nightmare.
I grabbed the pants and shirt, realizing I’d have no clean underwear. Whatever. At this point I didn’t care. I’d go without. After closing the door and ripping off my clothes, I made a face at the girl from before. It was time for her to suck it up and return to the woman she’d become. I couldn’t allow this to destroy me.
Needing to brush my teeth, I opened every drawer on the vanity, slamming them closed when they held nothing of value. Hopefully, the jerk who lived here heard my tantrum.
With the water turned on, I waited until it was exceptionally hot before I stepped inside. As much as I’d told myself I couldn’t stand Dimitrios and would never help or trust him, I found myself drinking in his scent before washing it away.
I leaned against the back wall and closed my eyes, concentrating on the sound the water was making as it flowed down the drain. Maybe, like my life, the water was going straight to hell. The sickness I felt was only overpowered by the sense of loneliness.
A horrible image of the blood in the sunroom attempted to shatter my resolve but I refused to allow it, shaking my head to try to eliminate the stark imagery.
My mind was fuzzy, yet another series of mental pictures became scattered, vivid and full of detail.
Him.
The brutal Greek with the body made for filth, and imploring eyes that held the ability to see right through you. I touched my lips, envisioning kissing his. It was so real, so pronounced that my pussy throbbed all over again. If there was one truth, it was an answer to my insanity.
I needed him. Now.
His arms.
His warmth.
His touch.
Oh, God. What was I thinking? Was it wrong, forbidden? Would I be committing a sin?
At this point in my life, what did it matter? I was lost in a sea of violence that I wasn’t certain I’d be rescued from.
Both nipples were swollen as I made my way under the showerhead. I had to exorcise my dark desires before they got the better of me.
With my hair wet, I grabbed the scrubby ball and soap, dousing the thing with enough soap to clean a horse. As I scrubbed my skin, starting with my face, I rubbed hard enough almost immediately my skin tingled. I was vigorous with my actions, ignoring the discomfort, washing my arms and chest, concentrating on my breasts. Maybe I could make them ache for another reason than thoughts of him.
Him.
I couldn’t think his name for fear I’d lose all sense of self control.
For all the washing I did, cleaning my entire body twice, I couldn’t rid myself of the intense longing. We were connected in a way that most couldn’t understand since I barely knew him. But the strong sense of urgency, the electric shock that tore through me when he was anywhere close had awakened something deep within me. It was like a fire that could never be doused with anything but gasoline.
Even though the water was close to scalding, I was shivering all over from the astounding need for him. Just a single touch would never be enough. I was suddenly filled with adrenaline, allowing my fingers to slide off bubbles as I returned to the water. As I’d done before, I envisioned his dark eyes claiming my body even before he undressed me.
Just the thought of him basking in my nakedness forced my pussy muscles to clamp and release several times. I rubbed the flat of my hand down my stomach, hesitating before allowing my index finger to rub my clit. Still shaking, I continued for a few seconds until I became disgusted with myself.
How could I be thinking about sex when my parents were dead and my brother missing? Presumed a murderer, no less. Disgust rolled through me and I turned off the water, immediately grabbing a towel from the gold-plated towel bar.
This was a rich man’s house, but what little I’d seen told me there was no longer the same love carried within the walls as when I’d been here before. Another tragedy just of another type. Maybe Dimitrios wasn’t capable of loving anyone.
I dressed quickly, finding a comb and brush so I could detangle my hair. With no makeup in my purse other than lipstick, I had no choice but to confront him again without any on. The all-natural look. My guess was I wasn’t his type anyway. I bet he went for the dazzling princesses of the world.
There was no reason to be nervous, but as soon as I tried the door and realized it was unlocked, I was suddenly extremely anxious. The way I felt about the man, the chaotic dichotomy of hatred and desire had become even more difficult to handle. My hands were clammy and I sucked down the entire rest of the glass of wine before I felt courageous enough to venture out of the room.
I left the wine in my room but grabbed the tray, eager to thank the chef. Or at least I could use bringing the dirty dishes to the kitchen as an excuse for leaving my room.
My mind wandered to the thought if he would punish me again for my terrible infractions.
The entire house was quiet. That I hadn’t remembered either. But as I walked down the hall toward the stairs, certain details started to come back to me. The pictures on the hallway walls, some of family, and some of fabulous art were exactly as I remembered. Even the stair runner was the same.
With every step, I could see more of the house. When I’d raced away before I’d had tunnel vision. Now I allowed myself to remember.
And regret.
What exactly for I wasn’t certain, but I had a feeling it would come to me the more time I spent with the man. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was certain no one else was in the house. I walked in bare feet, not making a sound, hoping my mind would remember the direction of the kitchen.
I found it easily enough, the setting of the room exactly as I remembered, but the appliances had been replaced with a dark granite shade, the cabinets refaced and even the granite countertop was a brighter color than before. The space was beautiful, but there were no flowers on the table or pictures on the walls. I didn’t see a single kitchen towel or a bowl of fruit anywhere.
Everything was in its place, the fragrance of vanilla and apple, not a pot pie that couldn’t have come out of the oven more than forty-five minutes ago.
Maybe there was a second kitchen meant for staff. I placed the tray on the counter, searching for a trashcan and a dishwasher. I’d never felt so awkward in a space. Even the dishwasher was empty, but I placed the plate and fork inside anyway.
“I have staff to do that.” His deep, velvet voice sent a shower of tingles through me, my core heated to the point of eruption. I was suddenly breathless, clenching my fists together to avoid saying anything that would set him off.
“Staff? I’m perfectly capable of cleaning up after myself.” I slowly turned around and was struck by the clothes he was now wearing. He was barefoot, something I only remembered seeing when we’d gone snorkeling right off the beach by his house. With a thinner, half sleeve sapphire shirt, the color bringing out his eyes, I was momentarily mesmerized.
Even the light-colored denim pants he wore seemed an odd choice for him.
But extremely sexy.
His scent was intoxicating, dark embers of smoky wood and spices, with a hint of the forest as well as the ocean. The combination was powerful, just like the man who’d interrupted my life.
Or he would say keeping me alive.
I backed all the way against the counter, holding my breath while he scrutinized me. I was certain I looked a mess to a man such as him. Well, tough. It wasn’t every day that… No, I couldn’t go down that road again.
“I have no doubt you can do anything you put your mind to, Willow.” When he used my name this time, I didn’t need to feel any level of emotion for him to know he was hurting inside. He made certain everyone else saw him as the powerhouse he was required to be, but this was his house.
Although I wondered why he was here and not the house in the islands. “I like to think I can.”
The awkwardness we shared seemed more pronounced. “You should get some sleep.”
“Did my brother call?”
“No.”
“He’s not going to. Is he?”
Dimitrios moved closer. “I don’t know, but I’m beginning to believe he can’t.”
“You mean he won’t.”
“One or the other.”
I looked away, tamping down another wave of anger. While I might not have the different stages of grief correct, I felt myself inching closer to total terror. Not just fear of the unknown or what I would do without them but utter, blinding terror.
“Why are you in this house? The beach house seemed more like you.”
He laughed given my question was so out of the blue. “My parents want me to move into the house. They plan on spending their retired years on a yacht they recently purchased.”
“A yacht. Of course. People who retire with your kind of money do so on a yacht. This just doesn’t seem like you. I really liked the other place much better. There were more… sensuous vibes. Maybe that sounds crazy.”
His chuckle stopped, but I could tell he was using those piercing eyes of his again to search my soul. If I dared look at him, I knew in my heart he could tell what I was thinking.
And what I hungered for.
“Not at all. Perhaps I’ll take you there in the next few days. Good memories are important.”
There was no reason to feel even more anxiety, but I did, instantly driven into a slight panic attack.
“What’s wrong?” He had a sense of urgency in his voice.
“Nothing. Not really. No, everything. Everything is wrong. Can’t you see that?” I was a damn chicken, immediately trying to skirt around him so I could bolt from the room.
Dimitrios had no intention of allowing me to go, grabbing my arm and yanking me against his chest. As he loomed over me, seemingly even larger in his life than I’d experienced before, I planted my hands on his chest. I was trying to push him away, thinking that if I did everything could go back to normal.
But nothing could.
Ever.
He stiffened, every muscle in his carved body tensing, and I could feel the raggedness of his beating heart as well as sense the burning need that we’d both experienced since first meeting. It was a shocking bolt of electricity, his touch searing every nerve ending.
And I felt how much he wanted me, his cock thick and hard, throbbing as it pressed into my stomach.
I tilted my head, trying my best to control my breathing, but around him, everything seemed surreal. But so natural to be in his arms.
There was something telling about his labored breathing. The heavy rise and fall of his chest illuminating his thoughts. The same desires that could damn us both to hell. The arc of electricity refused to be denied. I was lost in him and still hated myself for it.
As he rolled his fingers down my arm, trailing his actions with his eyes, my lower lip quivered. When he raked the backs along the outside of my breast, I licked my lips.
“This can’t happen,” I finally said. “It’s wrong.”
“Yes.” But neither one of us moved.
Neither one of us wanted to break the connection.
“Go back to your room.” His command wasn’t as strong as before because he didn’t want to lose the moment we were sharing any more than I did.
“Okay.” I tried to back away, certain he was going to allow that to happen.
Yet it seemed fate or maybe the devil himself interfered with our committed decisions.
The world came crashing down, the walls shattered between us as he crushed his mouth over mine. There was no gentleness about his need, no tender moment leading up to the passion we’d both felt, the rush of longing that could destroy us both.
But it was worth the risk.
No, being with him was worth everything.