Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
“ W e do not have to rely on memories to recapture the spirit of those we have loved and lost—they live within our souls in some perfect sanctuary which even death cannot destroy.”
—Nan Witcomb
Dimitrios
Seeing Willow’s face as she explored a house that remained in her memories was both fascinating and disturbing. I hadn’t understood that bringing her into my home would dredge up so many memories that I’d fought to keep locked away. Her face still held the sense of innocence and wonder she’d had at a young age. I found that beautiful and refreshing.
And damning.
It had been far too long since I’d been to the house, mired in business activities and trips to Italy, Spain, and even New Zealand. At least half my clothes were now located in the walk-in closet at my parents’ estate, but this was home. This was the one place where my heart remained.
Although there were those who would swear I had no heart, no ability to grow a new one. Or that I’d lost it years before just outside that dance studio. In spending time with Willow, I’d wondered if they were right. Caring for her was possible; love was something else.
With the security cameras checked denoting there’d been no unauthorized entries, I closed the door behind us, placing the bags near the door.
Willow took her time stepping up into the main room, slowly scanning every inch as she walked closer to the bank of glass doors. It was easy to tell she was remembering the times before, much like I found myself doing. Fate was a prickly bitch and I was still reeling from accepting just how much I craved being in her company.
And driving my cock inside her sweet pussy.
“This is… amazing,” Willow said without looking at me. I’d sensed her surprise and immediate discomfort as soon as I’d given her another rule to follow.
At least I’d controlled my usual tendency to overblow the moment.
“I enjoy being here.”
“Just enjoy? This is where your heart is.” She wrinkled her nose as if trying to remember something. “ To spíti eínai to móno méros ópou boreíte na eíste o eaftós sas .”
The Greek saying flowed from her mouth, although with somewhat broken inflection, twisting the blade in my heart. “Home is the one place where you can be yourself. Where did you learn that?”
“Mother told me she learned it from your mother. Mama said it was a touching moment shared between them and something she would never forgot. She used to tell me that when I’d talk about getting my own place.” She laughed and shook her head as the memory continued. “Would you believe she made me learn and recite the quote over the years starting as soon as we returned from that last trip? God, I felt like I was in school, forced to memorize a Dickens poem, but as I got older, I realized how valuable the words truly were.” She unlocked the set of back doors, using all her arm muscles to push the all-glass doors along the tracks. Immediately, the ocean breeze wafted in, a scent I’d taken for granted all these years.
I walked closer, enjoying the way it took her three tries to wrangle her hair behind both ears. She looked so young, so fresh and alive that I was struck even more by her beauty. “How so?”
“Well,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder and backed out onto one of several decks. Of course, I followed her. “You can have all the money in the world, the finest houses and artwork that costs millions of dollars, but if you feel like you can’t relax then it’s not home. Home is where you can laugh at silly things, forget to pick up dishes from the coffee table, and where books remain on the nightstand for months at a time. It’s where you can simply tune out the rest of the world, all the horrors and concerns, lock your doors and refuse to answer your phone and emails.”
“My philosophical fiancée.” I joined her on the deck, taking a few seconds to scan the cliff. Coming here without guards was risky, but I needed time alone for myself.
And with the incredible woman.
Things had gotten out of control, so much so I couldn’t think or process. At least her reflective demeanor kept me sane.
“I think it’s something important to remember. I love this place, but if it doesn’t make you happy then you should get rid of it.”
“It’s been in the family for two generations.”
“But is the house a home for you, Dimitrios? Do you understand what I mean?”
Watching her nose as it scrunched up while she was trying to find words to get through to me was as entertaining as everything else about here. But she was real. Most individuals told me what they thought I wanted to hear. With her, it was exactly what she thought no matter the consequences.
In my mind, that was priceless.
“As much of one as I know, Willow.” I was being truthful with her. Maybe the pain of losing my brother had blocked out recent inspiring memories.
“No soldiers while we’re here?”
“No,” I told her. “Why would I need them? No one knows we’re here except for Nico and my brothers. By all appearances, I’m still handling business in Athens.”
“What if I try and escape?”
I removed my sunglasses, sliding one earpiece into my shirt and turned toward her. As I moved closer, her breathing became shallow. Using just a single finger, I traced down from her forehead to her nose, ending by running the tip across the seam of her pursed lips. “If you do, I’ll find you. No matter where you land or how long it takes. Enjoy the view while I get us both something to drink.”
She leaned into me, keeping her hands from touching any part of my body although I could sense she hungered to do so. When she backed away, taking purposeful steps, my cock twitched just like it had been doing for hours.
Willow was right in that with money and good looks, you could get just about anything you wanted in life. It helped when you had a dangerous persona to back the other two. However, what the attributes couldn’t do was buy happiness or contentment. I’d been taught by my father about entitlement. He’d tried to ensure his children didn’t act as if they were owed anything, but his business tactics had rubbed off on all four of us.
Every child within the Nomikos household had learned most people were sheep, following anyone who gave them direction. We’d been raised as wolves and we were damn good at it. However, that didn’t mean we couldn’t succumb to the horrors that life seemed to drop on you when you least expected. That’s why our parents had kept this home, lovingly restoring every room to its original glory. My mother had called it a sanctuary and for a long time, that’s exactly what the place had become to all of us.
I did love this house. I’d spent more time here than anywhere, even healing here when most people would have stayed away. Memories were funny things. They could either bring joy and satisfaction or sadness. When the images and thoughts parading in your head brought both, the best thing to do was to confront the emotions.
The unlucky locked them down.
That was exactly what I’d done in order to get through every day.
I backed away, still enjoying the picturesque view captured by the bright blue sky illuminating her soft hair.
The kitchen was spotless, yet fresh flowers and fruit had been brought in at my direction. I’d wanted to make certain Willow felt comfortable here.
My parents had hired an excellent household staff, most of which remained in the Nomikos employ. While there was a bar in the living room, another in the media room upstairs, and one located in the outdoor kitchen, I’d always preferred keeping a stash of gin in the kitchen. I’d snuck drinks before I was legally able to do so, only caught once. Or so I believed.
I grabbed the bottle and a glass, opening the freezer door to check on the ice maker. Everything appeared in order. Sadly, my instinct wouldn’t rest. Neither would the ugliness from what the house represented.
The place was quiet, too much so for my tastes. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed hearing music of any kind. As I headed into the kitchen, harsh memories brought me to a halt.
“You do know I love you. Right?” I asked as I leaned against the doorframe of the room.
She didn’t respond at first, twirling several times, her long legs even longer in her toe shoes. The music flowed and she danced to the rhythm, her arms flowing to the beat. As she danced around me, she stopped her routine to blow me a kiss, taking a grand leap almost immediately.
While I had no idea what her ballet moves were called, the beauty and grace she represented with her routine took my breath away. Remaining mesmerized was easy around her. Every move she made pulled at my heartstrings. Every whisper from her soft lips ignited the passion, the hunger that never left.
When I was with her.
I snapped a picture, hoping it would keep my mind off the anger I felt. I loathed her father. The man was a pig.
Unfortunately, our beautiful trip alone had to come to an end. I glanced at my watch before walking further into the room. “Baby, we need to go.”
“Pfft. I never want to leave.”
Even when she pouted, she was adorable. “Yeah, but I’m expected back.”
“Just play hooky.”
“If only I could.” The meeting was mandated, several recent difficulties creating issues for both our family and the business operations. My father was livid.
My lovely Delphina was hiding, only she didn’t want to tell me why. I knew. I had plans on ensuring our lives and the love we shared wouldn’t be destroyed. Damn it. Why were families complicated?
She twirled around the room one last time before stopping, glaring at me in a way no other woman had. “Fine.” With a snap of her wrist, she grabbed the towel she’d brought up to the room, rubbing her face. “You get to turn off the music.” Her expression was still one of mischief, not fury.
We couldn’t stay angry with each other for long.
She could make me laugh more than anyone, her love of life keeping my heart racing. I was laughing as I moved to the stereo, taking a few seconds longer to enjoy whatever classical piece she’d chosen. I hated the crap she so adored at first, but was beginning to learn why classical music was so important.
I stopped the CD, turning off the stereo and taking another look at the room. I’d created it for her, learning the art of construction along the way. The place had been nothing but a storage area before, only half finished. I headed to the door, taking an additional few seconds before turning off the light.
The moment I started down the stairs, I heard a strange sound.
Then I heard her scream.
“Dimitrios.”
The strangled sound I heard I finally recognized as coming from my throat. “What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Perfectly fine,” I told her. “Why?”
“Because the freezer door is open and you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I barely looked at the freezer door before slamming it shut. “Nothing is wrong.”
“You might not like this, but I’m calling you a liar. Why don’t you go outside and I’ll make drinks.” She held out her hand, slowly taking the bottle still in my hand.
My grip around the neck was tight, white knuckled and she lifted her eyebrows when I didn’t comply immediately. Finally, she pried it from my hand.
Memories were like light switches. People had no control over them, images and thoughts flipping on often when least expected. Some lost their minds completely because their brains were wired to force them to remember tragedies over and over again like some broken record. Others were blessed with forgetting altogether.
My mind was a dangerous muscle, working without my direction. I’d gone for years without remembering. A few days with Willow and the memories were intensifying in clarity and length. I jerked the bottle away from her, not gentle when I placed it on the counter. As I backed her against the edge of the kitchen island, her eyes slowly took on a slight haze.
This time, I couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or something else entirely.
I planted my hands on either side of her, pressing the full weight of my body against hers. “You don’t need to worry about me, little dove. I am perfectly capable of handling my own issues.”
“Apparently not.”
“It’s been a long and grueling week. Nothing more. Just leave it alone.”
“That’s true for both of us. How easily you seem to forget that. Such an asshole.” Her entire demeanor had changed and as soon as she shoved me aside, another demanding need to possess her took over. I grabbed her arm, tossing her back into the same position. I’d used too much force. I could tell by the pained look on her face.
This time, I cupped both sides of her face, crushing her body with mine. “You don’t walk away from me. You never walk away from me.”
“Maybe that’s what you want and deserve.”
“Remember what I told you. I will find you.” I’d captured her mouth several times before, but the sense of urgency was stronger. More pronounced. I wanted her as if my life’s blood depended on tasting her.
She mewed into the kiss, struggling in my hold out of contempt and the need to keep a distance. I wasn’t in the mood to allow her to go anywhere. My cravings were more intense, the insanity of needing her something that could no longer be denied.
As the kiss became a furious standoff between us, she yanked at my hair, doing her best to draw blood on my back with her nails. I kept her pinned against the hard surface, savoring her sweet essence. She was food for my soul, fulfilling the darkest cravings anyone could have.
But I still wanted more.
I kept one hand on her face while I rubbed the other down her arm. At first, she relaxed, melting into me as she’d done two days before. But soon after, her body tensed all over again. I backed away, breaking the connection, even turning away.
This time as she moved around me, I didn’t stop her. The taste of her lingered like the scent of her perfume on my skin. I was thrown by the effect she had on me.
“Gin and tonic?” she asked quite casually, acting as if I hadn’t come close to taking her right here on the kitchen island.
“Yeah. There should be some limes. I’m certain Maria picked up a few like I asked.”
“Asked or demanded? You do seem to get everything you want. You know. Hired help and all.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning I’m not certain you do anything yourself. You have people to do that,” she spat out.
Why was she picking a fight? “Yes, I do and they’re paid very well, but I’m perfectly capable of handling whatever is necessary in my life.”
“Grocery shopping? Laundry? How about changing oil in one of your fabulous cars? Or ironing your clothes. I’d like to see you do that.” She laughed and the sound was so bitter I was torn about how to react. “Maybe my favorite would be to see you vacuum. That would be loads of fun.”
“Push and pull, Willow. Maybe we could learn not to do that.”
She snickered and located another glass, dumping ice into both. “Maybe. But you’ll need to accept I’m not your enemy.” Her statement was spiteful.
“And I’m not yours.”
I took a step toward her.
She stepped back, fury her main emotion.
I took another step and stopped. Heat poured off every inch of her body and for a few seconds, the awakening of my senses caught me off guard. I’d experienced every emotion over the last few days and it was slowly crushing what was left of my soul.
She was defying me on purpose, pushing me to see what I would do.
Taking the bait right now wasn’t in my best interest. It didn’t matter the cravings or the dark thoughts swirling around in my head.
What I didn’t need was an emotional attachment to continue derailing the man I’d finally been able to turn into. I turned around, shaking my head. “I’ll be outside.”
“Sure. I’ll bring your drinks, sir. Right away.” She jerked a sharp blade from the cutting block, holding it up into the light. Everything she did held some nefarious meaning, but I wasn’t playing her game. What I wanted to do was tie her down and fuck her senseless.
Yeah, way to go, caveman.
I’d been concentrating on seeking revenge instead of listening to her, including about her brother. That had to stop.
Sadly, her light switch had flipped and I had no clue why. She wanted to continue hating me. That was easy to see. Doing so would be easier on her even as her body betrayed her. I left the room, resisting pounding my fist on the wall. But I leaned against it, listening to her subtle curses and breathless sounds.
She was hurting inside and I wasn’t the kind of man to understand let alone provide compassion. I’d abandoned all aspects of humanity on a bright, beautiful day similar to this one long before.
Who had been the single person to spark something inside of me even then, bringing me out of the darkest period of my life? A girl with a lilting laugh, a beguiling smile, and endless questions. Willow had refused to stay alone in a room for too long, including during business.
I pressed my head against the wall, determined to remain hidden while I listened in on her private session of frustration.
We might not be a good match, but she was perfect in every way.
And I had no intention of letting her go. Not for business. Not because common sense screamed it was the right thing to do. Not because keeping her would place her in further danger.
I wouldn’t let her go because she was already mine.
Her sharp cry brought an instant reaction from me. I flew into the kitchen to find Willow wincing in pain, holding up her hand, the knife remaining in the other. Her fingers were bloody and her facial muscles were twisted.
As soon as I wrapped my fingers around the ones holding the blade, she jumped. “It’s okay. Let me have the knife, Willow. Okay? You cut yourself.” I turned on the water, testing to ensure it was cool.
She stared at me unblinking for a few seconds. Seeing the blood had taken her back to the crimson-stained walls inside the villa.
“Willow. Look at me. Don’t look at the wound. Okay?” Very gently I eased her hand under the faucet.
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why in God’s name would you believe that?” The cut wasn’t deep, just located on the side of her finger near the crease. She’d continue to bleed for a little while. I pulled off a paper towel, watching her eyes fog over.
She tilted her head, fury no longer enshrouding her lovely face. “Because I’m the reason your brother was murdered.”