CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS a long, lazy weekend, spent in and out of bed.
Demetrios plied her with cool drinks and concern. Was the elastic bandage too loose? Too tight? Did she want an ice pack? Aspirin?
Sam assured him she was fine. Arid when, in early evening, they began to dress for dinner and, instead, made love yet again, he stopped and said he should have thought of asking, but he’d assumed.. .was she protected? She said yes, she was, and drew him back into her arms.
She’d always preferred being responsible for herself in all possible ways. That was why she took birth control pills, even when she wasn’t involved with anybody. She’d for gotten to take one last night but that wasn’t a problem. Taking a double dose, once she’d realized it, made up for the lapse.
Late Saturday evening, they took the helicopter into Athens and drove to a small café for dinner.
“You will like this place,” Demetrios said, as they sped along a winding road high above the sea.
“I will like this place,” Sam echoed, and rolled her eyes. “It’s nice to see that little touch of uncertainty.”
He flashed her a quick grin. “You’ll see, kalóz mou. I’m right.”
He was. The café was small, the view incredible, the food wonderful. And their entrance stopped conversation.
“I’ll bet it isn’t every night a man carries his dinner date through the door,” Sam said, after they were seated.
Demetrios laughed. “We may have started a new trend.”
“Well, we’re going to end that trend. I want a cane.”
“You prefer a cane to the very personalized service
you’re getting from me?” He slapped his hand to his heart. “I’m devastated.”
“No,” Sam said, smiling across the small table, “you’re not. I’m serious, Demetrios. I want a cane. I need to be able to get around on my own.”
It turned out the gardener still had a cane he’d used a few years ago. Demetrios claimed he hadn’t thought of mentioning it and besides, it would be useless on stairs because it no longer had a rubber tip, which was why she had to let him carry her through the house and out to the pool on Sunday morning.
She clung to his neck and tried to work up some anger or at least some irritation but the truth was that it was nice to feel so cherished. Still, she protested when he put her down gently on a chaise longue and told her she could get some sun while he did his laps.
“Do you really expect me to lie here like a potato, baking in the sun?”
“I like your swimsuit,” he said. “What there is of it.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“A woman who wears three small triangles and calls it a swimsuit runs that risk.”
Sam sighed. “It’s a bikini”
“It’s a risk to a man’s health.”
She gave up. How could she quarrel with a man who was looking at her as he was? She smiled and looped her arms around his neck.
“I’m glad you like it. I tossed it into my luggage at the last minute.”
“Ah. So you planned on basking on the beach, even as you accepted my job offer?”
“Of course.”
“Did you think of me when you packed it?”
He grinned. Sam grinned back.
“I thought of Saint Tropez. That’s where I bought it.”
He touched a finger lightly to one slender strap. “Most of the good beaches in Saint Tropez are nude.”
“1 know. I couldn’t bring myself to go nude, so I bought this instead.”
Demetrios slid a finger under the strap and drew it down her shoulder. “And? Did it help?”
“Oh, definitely.” She laughed. “But not in the way I expected. I felt totally self-conscious. I was the only woman wearing a Suit. So, after a few minutes, I took it off.”
“You took it off,” he said solemnly, and told himself it was ridiculous to feel jealous of any man who had seen her that day. “How?”
“What do you mean, how? I just—Demetrios?” She caught his hand as he undid the clasp and slipped the top of the bikini from her shoulders.
“Yes?”
His voice had roughened. She could see a muscle ticking in his cheek, see the darkness in his eyes, a darkness she had learned could sweep her away.
“Someone might see us,” she whispered as he cupped her breasts in his hands.
“No one will see us.” He bent his head and she moaned as he put his mouth to her flesh. “The cypresses that ring the pool are thick, kalóz mou. We are as alone here as we would be in bed.”
She lay back, lifted her hips as he freed her of the thong bottom, watched through narrowed eyes as he skimmed off his trunks. He had done it again, ignored what she said, but as he gathered her to him all that mattered was the feel of him in her arms while the warm Aegean breeze sighed through the trees.
Monday morning, Sam opened her eyes and saw the cane leaning against the nightstand, complete with rubber tip.
She saw Demetrios, too. He was standing before the mirror, fully dressed, adjusting his tie.
She sat up, holding the covers to her breasts. “Did I over sleep?”
He turned around. She felt a chill whip through her blood.
He was smiling, but there was something removed in the way he looked at her.
“No. Not at all. I just thought it would be easier if I showered and dressed first.”
“Yes. Of course.” She looked at the cane. “I see you found the tip for the cane.”
He shrugged. “The gardener found it.”
“Ah.Well—well, I’ll have to thank him.”
“I already did. We couldn’t very well start the morning’s meeting with me carrying you into the conference room, could we?” He smiled again, then turned back to the mirror. “I’m going to get some coffee. Phone down when you’re ready and I’ll come help you down the stairs.” His eyes met hers in the mirror. He looked at her for a long moment, his expression impossible to read. “That is, if I’m right and you intend to go to work today...?”
“Certainly.” Sam felt her throat constrict. Still holding the covers, she swung her feet to the floor. “Why would you even ask?”
“Why, indeed?” He smiled, made one last adjustment to his tie and left the room.
The door swung shut. Sam stared after it, then took a deep breath. Was it all over? Just one weekend, and he’d had enough of her? She leaned on the nightstand, reached for the cane and hobbled to the bathroom. It didn’t seem possible, not after last night. They’d made love for hours.
But just before they fell asleep, she’d remembered that the next day was Monday. And she’d known, with a little start of surprise, that she didn’t want to go to the office. She wanted to be alone with Demetrios. She’d started to tell him that.. .and then she’d thought, what if he didn’t feel the same way? So she’d said, lightly, “Don’t forget to set the alarm clock,” and held her breath, waiting for him to say he didn’t give a damn about the clock, or work, or anything except her.
But hadn’t. He’d reached for the clock, shot her a quick smile and said he was just going to do that.
It was foolish, that such a thing should have bothered her. They were business colleagues first, lovers second. They weren’t even supposed to be lovers... And yet, she hadn’t wanted him to set the damned clock. And she certainly hadn’t wanted to wake up and find him dressed. She’d wanted to awaken in his arms, to hear him say he didn’t give a damn about time or work or anything but her...
What kind of idiocy was that? She had a job to do and she would do it. And if Demetrios had changed his mind about wanting her in his life, he was going to have to look her in the eye and say so. She’d be perfectly ******* to go back to the guest house and to her normal life.
If the great Demetrios Karas thought she was going to plead with him to want her, he was wrong.
Demetrios stood in the kitchen, sipping his coffee.
If Samantha thought he was going to plead with her to ask him to cancel today’s meeting, she was wrong.
He’d thought of doing it the instant he woke, then dismissed the idea as nonsense. He’d never done such a thing in his life. These were important meetings, and he had always born his responsibilities well. He was the son of a father who’d started as a deckhand on a tramp steamer and ended up owning that ship and a fleet of others, a man who knew that hard work and risk came first.
It was an admirable heritage, one to live up to, and Demetrios always had.
Still, one more canceled meeting more would not ruin anything.
He’d looked at Sam’s face, only a breath from his. Would she think that it would be far more important to spend an other day alone than to Sit in a room filled with other people and pretend to keep her mind on business? She was so serious about her work. Not that he didn’t admire her. It was an admirable quality in a woman—but other things suddenly seemed to matter more.
He’d gazed at her for a long time, watching her as she
slept curled on her side next to him. How beautiful she was. Such long lashes. Such a sweet mouth. Carefully, he drew down the covers, saw the gentle fullness of her breast, the curve of her hip...
And ached to touch her. Just one touch. One kiss, and he knew what would happen, that she would awaken, smile, go into his arms...
And tell him today was a business day.
Why had he even imagined she’d want to forget the world and stay here, with him? Last night, after they’d made love and he was about to turn out the light, she’d asked him if he’d set the alarm clock. The question had caught him by surprise, and he hadn’t been sure how it made him feel. Part of him had loved the way she’d said it, aS if they’d been sleeping together forever. Part of him tensed at the realization that she’d think of business after the weekend they’d spent.
“I was just going to do that,” he’d said, even though it wasn’t true. All he’d been thinking of was taking her in his arms and going to sleep, holding her close.
He’d remembered all that early this morning and he’d lost the desire to kiss her awake. He’d forgotten the alarm, just as he’d been the one who’d thought to cancel Saturday’s breakfast meeting.
If Sam wanted to spend today with him, she was going to have to suggest it.
That’s stupid .Karas.
The voice inside him had spoken with amusement that bordered on contempt but he’d ignored it, eased his arm from beneath Sam’s head, risen from the bed and turned off the alarm clock. And, just as he’d known she would, when she awoke her first thought had been of her job and not of him
Hell. Demetrios frowned into his coffee cup. He was not only being stupid, he was being childish. If he wanted them to skip today’s meeting, all he had to do was say so. He was her employer. Maybe she was waiting for him to make
the decision. For all he knew she’d smile, open her arms and say she’d been hoping he’d say something like that.
He smiled, dumped his cup in the sink, tugged at his tie, started for the stairs.. .and saw Sam, coming down them, clutching the banister with one hand and the cane in the other.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
It was a foolish question. He knew the answer. She wasn’t just disdaining his assistance, she was hell-bent on going to work. So much for telling her he’d decided they should stay home, and for her greeting the news with a smile.
Anger raged through him.
“You are impossible,” he snapped. “Didn’t I tell you to call me? You can’t be trusted to use your head!”
“You mean, I can’t be trusted to let you take over my life,” she retorted.
He stared at her. She stared at him. Then he cursed, ran up the stairs, took her in his arms and they shared a kiss that almost turned him inside out.
“We don’t have to go to the office today,” he whispered.
“I thought that was what you wanted to do.”
“You’re the one who reminded me to Set the alarm.”
“Only so you could tell me that you didn’t want to set it.”
He smiled. She smiled, too.
“We’re all dressed,” he said softly. “I suppose we could go to the office for a while.”
“We could take a long lunch.”
“We could work only half a day.”
“Agreed. But until then, we’ll be models of decorum.”
He smiled. “Of course.”
It surprised her when he kept his word. Though he carried her to the helicopter and then to his car, turning aside his driver’s offer of help, he stood by politely when they pulled up at Karas Lines, only offering his hand to her for support. But she saw his jaw tighten when they reached the steps that led to the conference room.
“Sam,” he said in a low, warning voice.
Her grim look was all the caution he needed. Step by step, she made her way to the top. She was panting a little when she got there but she flashed him a quick, triumphant grin.
“You see, Mr. Karas?” she said. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
She was, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He loved her spirit but he loved taking care of her. His feelings for her were complex. She was complex. He watched as she hobbled into the conference room and thought that he could spend the rest of his life being fascinated by her and then he thought, the rest of my life?
What kind of idea was that?
The damned Frenchman and the impossible Italian shot to their feet as Sam made her way through the door, both of them demanding to know what had happened and what they could do to help.
“I had a little accident,” Sam said pleasantly. “Thank you both, but I’m fine.”
“Nonsense,” the Frenchman said. “You will require assistance.”
“If she does,” Demetrios said abruptly, “I will provide it.” Everyone looked at him and he saw Sam’s eyes narrow. “I am her employer,” he said, as if that explained every thing.
The meeting began. She was back to addressing him formally. He’d expected it, knew it was actually a good idea not to let the others know they’d become involved. Still, it grated on him whenever she called him Mr. Karas, although not as badly as it did whenever the Frenchman or the Italian stopped the discussion to ask if she wanted water or coffee or anything at all.
But he kept his temper. In fact, he was congratulating himself on it when suddenly the Italian translator said she was sorry, but if they could just take a five minute break while she checked something?
“Of course,” Demetrios said; He took a quick look at his watch. It was almost noon. Almost time to tell everyone that they were done for the day. Then he could get out of this place with Sam. Maybe she’d like to fly to Kythira. He knew a wonderful little inn with a great restaurant and a private white sand beach, so private she wouldn’t need that bikini.
The little group pushed back their chairs. He watched Sam clutch the armrest as she worked out the easiest way to get to her feet. He knew the easiest way would be to let him lift her into his arms but he also knew she would go crazy if he did.. .and then the Frenchman rushed to her side.
“Let me assist you, mademoiselle,” he said, and slid an arm around her shoulders.
Demetrios moved before he thought. “I am all the assistance she needs,” he growled, jostling the other man aside and doing what he’d promised himself he would not do, putting his arm around Sam in a gesture so protective and obvious that he knew he’d given the game away to everyone in that room...
And knew, as well, that he’d fallen in love with her.
They flew to Kythira, lay on the beach, ate shrimp and drank white wine and made love in the sun.
Demetrios tried not to think about that sudden revelation he’d had in the office, but he couldn’t get it out of his head. Maybe that was why it took him a while to realize some thing was wrong.
Sam was quiet. Too quiet
She was quiet that night, too, when they dined on the patio. The cook had outdone herself. Tall white tapers burned in silver holders; flowers spilled from a silver basket in the center of the table and a bottle of white wine stood chilling near at hand.
But something was wrong. Demetrios knew it. It had nothing to do with what had happened at the office. Yes, people had shuffled their feet, stammered flimsy excuses and left after his little outburst, but he and Sam had dealt with
it. Alone in the conference room, she’d told him precisely what she thought of the way he’d made their relationship public. He’d apologized and she’d sighed, gone into his arms and kissed him even though anyone could have walked In.
He’d taken that as a good sign but now she was so silent...
Yes, something was wrong. What was it? And what was he doing, sitting and watching her for signs? He was afraid to ask her what was going on. He, Demetrios Karas, afraid to ask a woman why she was so quiet, why she’d stopped smiling and had taken, instead, to shooting him little looks he could not read.
The maid wheeled a serving cart out the door and left it beside the table. Sam ignored it, so he fixed a plate for her, then for himself. The food looked appetizing, but he had no desire to eat. He pushed things from one side of the plate to the other. Sam didn’t even make the attempt. Just those little looks...
“Dammit,” he roared, tossing his napkin on the table, “what’s the matter?”
He hadn’t intended to say that. He’d planned on keeping still, or perhaps asking, gently, if something was troubling her. But he couldn’t handle this. He was still trying to come to grips with the shock of falling in love with Sam and she was treating him like a leper.
“I’m sorry,” he said, far more calmly. “But you must tell me what’s going on, Sam. I’m not good at reading tea leaves.”
Sam looked up from her glass of wine. It was a delicious wine but she’d had hardly any of it. She was filled with despair.
This long, lovely, wonderful day had made her see just how much trouble she was in.
The simple truth was that she’d never actually been in a relationship before. She hadn’t know that, until now, but dating a man, liking him, sleeping with him didn’t really
constitute a relationship, even if it lasted for weeks or months.
This—this quagmire she’d stumbled into with Demetrios was a relationship with a capital R, the sort of thing that made her want to weep and laugh at the same time. He walked into a room, and she grew dizzy with pleasure. He all but announced to the world that she belonged to him, and she had to pretend she was angry because in her heart— in her heart, she wanted to shout it from the rooftops, that she was his and he was hers...
And she loved him.
And what a time to realize it, standing in a conference room, addressing Demetrios as Mr. Karas, watching him glower.. .but then, she had never done anything in the conventional way. Why would she fall in love like anybody else, with violins and moonlight—and a man who would love her in return?
Demetrios never would.
She’d known all that in a heartbeat this morning, puzzled over what to do about it for the remainder of the day, and she still had no answer. It didn’t help that he was glaring at her, his eyes snapping with anger despite his stilted apology. As if he had anything to be angry about, the unfeeling idiot.
“Did you hear me?” he said. “I’m sorry I yelled.”
“I heard you.”
“Sam, dammit...” He took a breath. “Are you angry? That thing this morning...”
“I’m not angry,” she said softly. “But—but I have to say somethings that—that aren’t easy.” -
“What things?” he said, while a chasm opened at his feet.
She swallowed dryly, moistened her lips, looked any where but at him. “I’ve been wondering if—if maybe we went into this too quickly.”
“Into what?”
His voice was soft. She had come to know that softness. It hid a rock-hard determination but she was determined,
too. It was time to decide how to progress, if to progress, whether to stay with Demetrios until the inevitable end or walk away now.
She didn’t know which way would be the best, even after spending most of the day thinking about it. Pain now, or pain later? It was an impossible decision. She’d always found relationships so easy to handle. Amanda had talked a little about how tortured she’d been, trying to figure out what she felt for Nick; Carin had sworn how much she despised Rafe to anyone who’d listen, and Sam had just taken it all in and wondered how a woman could possibly become so confused in her dealings with a man.
She owed her sisters an apology.
“You wonder if we went into what too quickly?” Demetrios said, and she looked at him.
If sleeping with your boss was a mistake, falling in love with him was sheer disaster. Of course, she wouldn’t tell him that. She’d say that she’d decided she realized she couldn’t give up the loss of independence that would go with being intimately involved with him, that it had been a mistake to let the relationship become personal.
“into this—this——”
“We are lovers.” He spoke curtly. “Is that so difficult to acknowledge?”
“No. It’s not. What I mean is... Don’t look at me like that!”
“Like what?” he said, and told himself that if he’d been required to pay a Drachma for every time he’d wanted to shake this woman since he’d met her, he’d be well on his way to the poorhouse by now.
Sam shoved back her chair and got to her feet. “Don’t!” she said, as he sprang up, too. “I am perfectly capable of moving around on my own. I sprained my ankle, Demetrios, I didn’t break it.”
‘ Ah ‘
“Ah, what? Must you always sound so smug?”
“I was right,” he said calmly. He could be calm, now
that he knew the problem. For a few seconds, he’d thought she was about to tell him she’d decided against their affair. Their relationship. Whatever in hell you called it when a man fell in love with a woman who didn’t love him, a woman he didn’t want to be in love with.
But that was ridiculous. Samantha enjoyed being with him. She enjoyed what happened in bed. All she needed was a little reassurance that he would respect her independence. Well, he could manage that. He just had to back off a little, convince her that all he wanted from her was what they already had.
It wasn’t even a lie.
Try as he might, he had no idea exactly what he did want. Marriage? Children? From what he knew of such things, he wasn’t exactly desirous of them. He would tell her that, let her see that she risked nothing by continuing their affair.
And, over the weeks and months that came next, if he changed his mind, well, then he would set out to change hers. If he didn’t.. .if he didn’t, that would be that.
It was a logical solution. He felt better for having reached it, and he smiled as he walked towards her.
“Sam, kalóz mou...” To his surprise, she slapped at his hands when be tried to clasp her shoulders.
“I just don’t...” Her throat tightened. What was wrong with her? Was she going to cry because he called her his beloved without meaning it? “I want to say what I need to say, all right? Without you stopping me.”
“But it isn’t necessary.”
“God give me strength! You’re impossible, Demetrios! You always think you know what’s necessary. Well, I have news for you. You don’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he said with total sincerity, “I understand what’s troubling you.”
Sam folded her arms. “In that case, tell me. Go ahead. Read my mind.”
“You are concerned that I’m taking over your life.”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”
“Mostly, you are afraid I may want too much from you.” How could a man be so wrong? “Really,” she said dryly. “But I don’t. I won’t.” He put his arm around her. She didn’t melt into him, as she would have last night, even this afternoon, but she let him do it. He took that as a good omen. “I understand how difficult it is for a woman like you to have an affair with a man like me.”
“Of course you do. You know everything.”
He decided to let that pass. “My mother was American. Did you know that?”
“Maybe. Amanda might have said...” Sam puffed out a breath. “You’re not going to divert me by talking about your mother.”
“She was a singer. A coloratura. Do you know what...?”
“Yes,” she said impatiently, “of course I do. It’s a soprano with an exceptionally light, clear voice.”
“That’s right.” He tugged her down beside him on a wicker love seat. “She was a good woman, but she and my father should never have gotten married.”
Sam stared at him. “What?”
“She was like you,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “Beautiful. Fiercely independent. Argumentative. Difficult.”
“I am neither argumentative nor difficult.”
He smiled. “And my father.. .well, I suppose I am very much like him.”
“Conceited. Impossible. Authoritative.”
“I am Greek,” he said, as if that explained everything. “Well, half-Greek, but it is the same thing. He was the one who raised me.”
Sam had promised herself she wouldn’t let him drag her down this detour but not asking the inevitable question was impossible.
“Why? What happened to your mother?”
His smile dimmed. “She’d become restless. She missed her country, her friends, her career...” He caught himself in mid sentence. This was not what he’d wanted to tell her.
His father had explained what had driven his parents apart, but that was not the point. “They quarreled often. She would leave, fly to New York. He would go after her and bring her back. And then, one day, he didn’t go after her. She stayed in America and he stayed here.”
“I don’t understand. Didn’t you grow up in Greece?”
“Yes.”
“But you just said your mother went back to the States.”
“I didn’t go with her. My father would not permit it.”
“He would not...?” Sam stared at him, at that imperious face that no longer bore a smile but had, instead, taken on the stoniness of marble. “She let him get away with that?”
“Sam. You must try and understand. This is Greece. The rules are different here. A man is still the head of his house hold in my country.”
“What you mean is, your father could keep you despite your mother’s wishes.”
“Yes. No.” Demetrios frowned and got to his feet. The conversation was not going at all as he’d planned. “She didn’t mind. She loved me, in her way, but she was not a woman whose maternal instincts ran deep. Do you understand?”
“No. I don’t. If I had a child, I could never let anything keep me from it.”
“The law was on my father’s side. Would you expect a man to give up his own flesh and blood?”
“There’s such a thing as joint custody. In America—”
“I tell you again, this is Greece. Besides, why would anyone wish a child to be batted back and forth across the Atlantic, like a ball at a tennis match?” He hadn’t intended to say that, either. What did such things matter, after all these years? “This is all beside the point, Samantha. What you should understand is—”
“What happened?” Sam asked softly. “To your parents’ marriage?”
“They were divorced.”
“And where is your mother now? I know your father died
a few years ago but I don’t think I ever heard anything about your mother.”
“She is still alive,” he said stiffly. “She lives in Argentina with a man who raises horses.”
“She moved there after the divorce?”
“She moved there,” he said coldly, “when I was thirteen. By then, she’d been living in New York for five years. And, before you ask, until she left the States I saw her for two weeks each July, when my father permitted her—”
“Permitted her?” Sam said, incredulously.
“That’s right. He allowed her to come to Athens and stay in an apartment he owned, and spend whatever time she wished with me.”
Sam stood up and put her hand on his arm. The muscles were taut beneath her fingers.
“That’s terrible,” she said softly. “Demetrios, I’m so sorry...”
“Don’t be.” He shook off her hand and looked at her, his eyes cold. “It was all she was entitled to. She was the wrong woman for my father, not the kind a man should take as a wife or wish to be the mother of his child.”
Sam drew back. “You don’t know that. You don’t know the whole story. Maybe there’s more to it.”
“People marry for the wrong reasons, Samantha. For passion. For sex. They call it love, but it isn’t.” He reached out for her, his hands cruel on her shoulders. Why had it seemed so confusing, just a little while ago? He knew what he wanted and it wasn’t love or marriage or fatherhood. “And that is why you have nothing to fear from me. I won’t demand anything but what you can give because it’s all I want.”
Nothing to fear? She wanted to laugh. He thought he knew her. The worst of it was, she’d thought she knew herself but in the blink of an eye, she’d gone from wanting to go through life without leaving footprints to wanting to build a safe, warm nest where she could do all the mundane things other women did, like wake up in the morning in the
arms of the man she loved and, some day, soothe the bruised knees of little boys who were tiny replicas of their father.
How could she have fallen so hard, so fast?
“Sam?” He slid his hands from her shoulders to her face, lifted it to his. “You mean more to me than a woman ever has. You’re beautiful. You’re exciting. You make me happy. And I please you. I know that I do.”
She wanted to tear free and run. Her heart was pounding. But she stood still, even managed to choke out a laugh.
“Such modesty, Demetrios.”
“I’m being honest. You must do the same. We aren’t dreamers in need of fairy tale endings.”
“No.” Her voice shook. “No, we’re not.”
“I will give you everything, matyd mou. Not only honesty but respect. I will pledge you my fidelity for as long as we are together, but I won’t tell you lies—and I will not expect any from you. Do you understand?”
He fell silent, hearing only the sound of his own hammering pulse. He had not planned to say any of this, had not even known it was inside him, but he was glad it had come out. It was all the truth and whatever he’d imagined about falling in love with Samantha had been sentimental self-deceit.
He was his father’s son but he would not be the fool his father had been, and certainly she could understand that. He would not ask for what she could not give. He would never expect her to love him to the exclusion of anything else, or to take vows she would not keep, or to bear his child.
He could see her mouth trembling. Had he hurt her? For a second, he almost pulled her into his arms to say it wasn’t true, that he loved her, would always love her, that she had only to say that she loved him...
“I was going to tell you that I was leaving you,” she said in a low voice.
“But now you won’t.”
Sam stared up into the face of this man she loved, this man she’d been determined to leave, and saw not the man
but the child he had once been, abandoned by a mother who had not loved him.
“Sam.” He took her face in his hands. “Stay with me.” He kissed her, and she put her arms around him and
kissed him back, trying not to weep, weeping anyway—and not knowing if the tears were for him or for herself. All she knew was that the anguish she felt now was nothing corn- pared to what she would feel when he tired of her.
Then she would pay for this night’s decision with a broken heart
.
16-11-07, 10:53 AM
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