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“Because Barnabas Georgas was their livelihood and she was an embarrassment to him.”
“That sucks.” But Kayla knew firsthand that parents didn’t always put their children’s interests first.
Andreas gave a bark of a laugh. “That is succinctly put, Miss Jones.”
She smiled, a blush warming her skin. She loved making this man laugh. It did not happen often.
Andreas’s brilliant green gaze sizzled across her skin. “You are so beautiful when you do that.”
“What?” she asked, feeling like somehow the oxygen had gone missing from the fresh sea air around them.
“Blush. It’s lovely against your café au lait skin.”
“That’s a pretty way of saying mutt.”
Andreas went rigid, his emerald eyes snapping with unexpected fire, his jaw hewn from granite. “What did you just call yourself?”
“I didn’t call myself anything.” She rolled her eyes. “Stop pretending you don’t know what I mean. I’m not all pure Greek like you. My mom was some kind of mix of white whatever and my dad was clearly at least part black, or where did these lovely kinky curls come from?”
“That makes you typically American. Not a mutt.” Oh, his voice was serious, each word pronounced with exaggerated care.
“Right. Whatever, Andreas.”
His hand came up to cup the back of her neck, his other landed on her thigh, warm and heavy. “Not whatever, you will never use such a derogatory term in reference to yourself again.”
“I bet it’s exactly how Genevieve would describe me.”
“If she ever made the mistake of doing so, not only would I fire her but I would make sure every businessman of my considerable acquaintance knew not to engage her services.”
“Yikes, dial it back a notch, Andreas. She didn’t say anything.” Despite how the other woman clearly looked down on her.
“You are my friend, Kayla.”
“The way you’re holding me feels like more than friendship, Andreas.” Kayla’s heart was running way too fast, her breath coming in short little bursts.
If he didn’t move away from her, she was going to make a fool of herself and do something spectacularly stupid. Like kiss him or something.
“It does, does it not?” Instead of moving away, he leaned closer.
The announcer said something about the statue and a flurry of photography went off around them, but Kayla could not make herself look away from Andreas. The expression in his eyes was one she’d seen many times before, but not for six years. She was afraid to trust her own eyes now. What if she was seeing what she had wanted to see for so long? What she’d absolutely given up on altogether not an hour past?
What if that look wasn’t what she thought it was at all?
But she was no virginal teenager. She knew this feeling well.
The tension surrounding them had nothing to do with being right in front of the Statue of Liberty for the first time. It had everything to do with his lips being mere inches from hers, his torso being so close, she could feel the heat of his body.
“What will this feel like, I wonder?” he asked.
Then his lips covered hers before she could ask what he meant. And for the first time in six years, Kayla felt at home. Safe. Connected. Andreas’s mouth moved against hers and Kayla kissed him back, shock giving way before the absolute rightness of the feeling of his lips against hers. Andreas kissed her deeply, his hand on the back of her neck holding her in her in place for his mouth to plunder hers, to stamp determined possession, the hand on her thigh moving up to her waist and around to her back until she was completely surrounded by her former lover.
The sound of clapping, wolf whistles and laughter finally broke them apart. Only then did Kayla realize what a spectacle they’d made of themselves and that the cruise boat was treading water in front of the statue for the tourists to take pictures. Many of whom were way more interested in her and Andreas.
The blush that burned her cheeks this time was hot and uncomfortable, prickling all over her body. Andreas, the jerk, just laughed, looking for all the world like he got caught kissing in public places like this all the time. Which she knew was not the case. Not even close.
She glared up at him. “Fix this.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Make them stop staring and saying those things.”
“It is okay, Kayla. We were doing nothing wrong.”
“We were kissing like a couple of teenagers.”
“I’d forgotten how much I enjoy kissing you.”
“I know.”
“You sound annoyed by that fact.”
“I’m not the one who decided we made better friends than lovers. Oh, darn it.” She looked around frantically, hoping no one had overheard what she’d just said.
No such hope. There were way too many people avidly interested in her and Andreas, hanging on their every word.
She bit her lip and stared up at him. “This is so embarrassing.”
“Being my lover is embarrassing?” he asked, sounding offended.
She was going to beat him, she really was. “We aren’t, not anymore.” She wasn’t saying that word again. Grown woman or not. Thank you very much.
His look was way too speculative for her liking, but all he said was “I think you’d better get your pictures if you plan to get any.”
“You expect me to take pictures after that?” Her hands were shaking.
He smiled that brilliant smile he shared so rarely with others and pulled his own smartphone out, then proceeded to take several snaps of the statue, making sure she was in the foreground of a couple of them. He even did a selfie shot with them both. It was surreal and Kayla wasn’t sure what was going on.
When the captain started the boat going forward again, Andreas put his arm around Kayla’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb brushed up and down her neck, sending shivers along her nerve endings.
“What the heck are you doing, Andreas?” she asked, not even embarrassed when her voice went pitchy.
This? This deserved pitchy!
He kissed her temple and pointed at something on the shoreline. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Where is all this affection coming from?” Kayla started to wonder if she was in one of those dreams. The ones where you thought you were awake, but really you were still sleeping.
She’d never had one, but she’d heard of them.
“I like touching you. I had forgotten how much.”
“Did you take seasickness pills or something this morning?”
His laughter was rich and warm and all hers. A sound he shared with so few people she couldn’t help reveling in it, even if this was a superelaborate, really vivid, overly detailed dream.
“Or something.”
She turned her head so their gazes met, knowing it was risky, but unable to have this conversation without eye contact. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve had a revelation.” His grin was all straight, white teeth and positively blinding.
“What kind of revelation?” she asked suspiciously.
How could she be anything else? He looked like the kid who’d gotten the last cookie in the jar and knew where the others were hidden besides.
“I’ll tell you when we return to our hotel. This is not a discussion we need to have in such a public place.”
“Says the man who kissed me in front of an entire shipload of people.”
“Only half the ship’s passengers are on this deck.”
“You’re being facetious.”
His smile was positively sinful and then he kissed her. Again. Not a passionate one, but certainly nothing platonic either.
Kayla gasped, floundering with feelings she’d barely held in check for years. Her mind fought with her heart and sadly her mind was not winning at the moment.
Still, she said, “You have to stop kissing me.”
“The taste and feel of your lips says otherwise.”
“Don’t be a jerk.”
“I assure you, I am not.”
“Andreas!”
He squeezed her neck, like he was comforting her. “Do not worry, Kayla. It is all going to be all right. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that. Everything is messed up.”
“Not anymore.”
“How can you say that?” Nothing had changed. Except maybe he’d lost his mind. “I’m dreaming, right? That’s what’s happening here.”
He kissed her again. Seriously. His lips against hers were firm and strong and possessive and real. Very real.
He broke the kiss only to kiss the corner of her lips like he always used to do. “There, does that feel like a dream?”
“I’m not answering that.”
He made a pained sound. “I too have had dreams, but I have done my best to forget them in the morning.”
“Andreas! There are children around.” And avidly interested adults.
“As I said, a conversation for later.”
“I’m not dreaming.”
“No, Kay-love, you are not.”
“I never understood why you used that endearment when you don’t believe in that feeling.” And he hadn’t used it in six years. Now all of a sudden they’d had a mind-blowing kiss and he was using it again.
He shrugged. “It is just a word.”
It wasn’t to her, but maybe that was why he used it. Love was just a word to him, like honey or sweetheart. It meant nothing more, but maybe it meant nothing less either and that was what she should be focused on. Something was happening here.
Something weird.
Something he wasn’t going to discuss around others, which made her think it involved sex. Andreas wanted sex with her. Did she want sex with him? Knowing he planned to marry some paragon of perfection for a business mogul’s wife somewhere down the road?
Kayla deliberately turned her focus back to the view outside the boat and listened to the history behind the bridge off in the distance. Its architectural significance wasn’t enough to get her mind off the idea of sex with Andreas, but she tried.
What was she supposed to do?
Could she have a final hurrah with Andreas without breaking her own heart? He’d broken it once, six years ago, and she’d never mended. It was still too cracked to even consider falling for someone else.
Would giving in to him give her that illusive thing called closure or do her irreparable harm?
How hard would it be to turn him down? The warmth of his arm around her shoulder, the way her body responded to that simple touch told her extremely hard. Leaning toward impossible.
But did she have a choice?
Would she survive a night of casual sex with Andreas Kostas and watching him walk away after like nothing important had happened?
If six years ago had taught her anything, it had been that watching Andreas walk away after intimacy was more painful than losing any foster family. Because he felt like family. He felt like he was supposed to be hers. Only he wasn’t. Not really. They were friends. And that was all Andreas would ever allow her to be.
For him that was clearly an important role. Important enough for him to drop everything to follow her and stay with her until she returned where he considered she belonged, but he didn’t want the kind of belonging that she’d always craved. He didn’t want to be her family.
“New York is a beautiful city. If it was not so full of people, I could live here, I think.” Andreas’s words broke into her musings.
She gathered her thoughts and pressed them back into the recesses of her mind and heart, where they had to stay, just like they had for six years. “It is. I never realized how beautiful. I think I’ll always fit with Portland best, but I could visit New York again and stay longer.”
“Perhaps we will.”
She didn’t reply. They’d traveled together before. Maybe they would again. Maybe his wife wouldn’t care who traveled with the couple on their trips. Maybe Kayla would get to the point that seeing Andreas and his wife didn’t rip through her insides with all the pain of a serrated knife.
Maybe never.
