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For an instant, she’d dared hope he meant forever. But then he said, “It’s only three. We’ve got time.”
But Natalie knew that time had run out. “I need some sleep,” she’d said, marveling at how matter-of-fact she sounded. “And you do, too, so you can get things all shipshape before you leave.”
It was the single time in the last couple of days that she’d mentioned anything to do with their lives beyond the bed. It was an acknowledgment of reality. Nothing more.
Christo hadn’t argued. He’d seen the logic of it, the reason. Christo was all about logic and reason, after all. He’d let her go, had watched her dress. But before she left, he’d climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts.
“I’ll see you home.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, not at all sure she could stand the civility of this last gesture.
But Christo insisted. “I’ll see you to Laura’s door.”
They went in silence. He didn’t touch her now. But she could feel his presence right behind her. Could hear him breathing. Their arms brushed as he opened the door for her and let her go past him.
Natalie held her head high. Refused to allow herself the tears she knew would have come by now if she’d walked home alone. She got to the top of Laura’s stairs with her dignity intact, and put the key in the lock before Christo could do it for her. Then, with the door open, she turned and held out her hand, even managed a smile.
“Good night.”
He didn’t reply, just stood looking down at her in the darkness. Then he took her hand, held it, squeezed it for just a moment, then let it go. She heard him swallow.
“Sleep well,” he said. Then abruptly he turned and was gone.
Natalie stood there in the stillness, waiting for the sound of his back door to open and close. It never did. She heard the gate instead.
She went inside quickly and went to the window in time to see him disappearing down the walk toward The Strand, then hopping over the wall to hit the sand and take off running.
She headed straight for the bedroom, for all the good it would do her.
“Sleep well,” she echoed his words out loud as she lay down and stared at the ceiling.
Yeah, right.
“Are you all right, dear?” Laura stopped mid-sentence in her description of how well Grandma’s recovery was going to study Natalie closely.
Natalie, who had invited her mother over for meat loaf because she truly did want to hear about her grandmother while at the same time she did not want to run into Christo, smiled brightly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re very quiet.”
“I’m generally quiet,” Natalie reminded her. “Dan was the noisy one.”
“Yes, but you’ve barely said two words since I got home last week. Every time I ask you how things went—even when you worked with Christo—you just say, fine.” Laura was regarding her suspiciously over a glass of wine.
Natalie shrugged negligently. “Because they were fine. No problems at all. Why? Did he say there were?” She frowned now as she put a helping of green beans on her plate.
“No. He hasn’t said anything, either. He works all the time. Never even stops by for dinner now. He stays at the office until nearly bedtime.”
“Maybe he has a lot to catch up on.”
Laura nodded. “He works very hard.”
“Have you talked to Grandma today?” Natalie changed the subject as soon as she could.
There was no point in talking about Christo. There was nothing she could tell her mother—and nothing her mother could say about Christo that she wanted to hear.
She’d got through the last week and a half in zombie-like fashion, putting in time, taking things one at a time, trying to focus on the matter at hand, and ruthlessly dragging her thoughts away from Christo every time they ventured in that direction all day long.
And she had survived.
But the nights nearly did her in. She couldn’t sleep. She could only lie there and remember. It was all there to replay endlessly, to make her smile and cringe and laugh and ache.
It would get better, she told herself. She would move on, find new preoccupations.
“Get a life,” Sophy had suggested more than once in the past ten days. “Or better yet, take a vacation. You look like death,” she’d said this morning when Natalie had been working at the office.
“I do not,” Natalie retorted. “I’m fine.”
“You have big dark circles under your eyes.”
“I’m not sleeping well. I’m…allergic.”
“Sure you are,” Sophy said. “And I’m the tooth fairy. I told you Savas men can break your heart.”
Natalie just looked at her.
Sophy sighed. “I know. It doesn’t help being told. You can’t help yourself. But honestly, Nat, you should take a few days off. Go away. Get some perspective.”
What good perspective would do, Natalie didn’t know.
But she said, “I’ll think about it.” She even considered asking her mother about good places to go. Laura had taken some trips by herself and with friends after Clayton had walked out.
She’d picked up the pieces of her life and made a new one.
She was a perfect role model. Natalie knew she could do worse than emulate her mother.
She would emulate her mother.
She just needed a little more time.
She was glad she’d invited her mother to dinner, though she hedged a bit when Laura suggested they do it again next week at her apartment.
“You come over here,” Natalie said, not wanting to risk any chance of seeing Christo. “You almost never come here.”
“I’m here now,” Laura pointed out. “And if you come to me we can walk on The Strand afterwards. I’m trying to walk at least two miles a day. Part of my keeping-fit regimen.”
“Maybe,” Natalie said. “I’ll see.”
But when her mother mentioned it again as she was leaving, Natalie didn’t commit herself. “We’ll talk about it next week,” she said as she walked her mother out to her car.
It was a cool night for early August. It never got especially cool as far inland as Natalie lived. But at the beach it might even be sweater weather. Her mother pulled one on before she got into her car, then turned to give Natalie a kiss.
“Thank you so much for dinner. And for taking care of Herbie—and Christo—while I was gone.”
Natalie smiled. “Glad to do it.”
“Hope they weren’t too much trouble.”
Natalie shook her head. “No trouble at all.”
Not the cat, anyway. Memories of the man were destroying her peace of mind. But Laura would never ever know that. She would simply believe that Christo had needed help and Natalie had stepped into the breach.
When her mother left, Natalie went back inside and wished she had the table to clear and the dishes to do.
But Laura had insisted on helping her with them. So the kitchen was now spic and span, and Natalie had yet another empty evening stretching in front of her.
If she sat down to read, her mind wandered in directions she didn’t want. And if she watched television, it was even worse. She caught up on all her paperwork from Rent-a-Wife, but it took her no time at all to fill out the online schedule for the rest of the week. She made all the phone calls to confirm tomorrow’s assignments, and even rang Sophy to make sure she’d covered everything.
“You need counseling,” Sophy told her severely. “Or a ticket to the far ends of the earth.”
Natalie didn’t reply to that, though there were times the far ends of the earth seemed damned appealing. She just said good-night and hung up, then glanced at her watch, wishing it were later, wishing she were more tired, wishing she would stop having every other thought be about Christo Savas.
The quick sharp rap on her front door came as a welcome surprise.
She didn’t know many of her neighbors, but occasionally one appeared needing to borrow sugar or an apple or a blender.
Now she opened the door, eager for the distraction—and stared.
It was Christo.
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_dda8f253-4e7b-5617-aa67-5c39300d73fa)
THE mere sight of him caused her heart to leap, proving that for all that she might have been telling herself that things were getting better and that she was getting over him, the truth was, she wasn’t over him in the least.
“Christo?” She gripped the door so hard her fingers hurt.
“I need to talk to you.” He didn’t smile. He looked, in fact, positively grim.
She didn’t want to let him in. It would only be harder when he left again. But she was supposed not to care, she reminded herself. So she stepped back and opened the door wider. “Come in. Sit down.”
He came in. He didn’t sit down. He cracked his knuckles, paced a bit.
Natalie didn’t say anything. He’d sit down if he wanted. He jammed his hands in his pockets and faced her.
“I have a favor to ask. A business proposition, I guess you’d say.”
Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Business?”
“Rent-a-Wife,” he said. “That’s what you do, right? Only I don’t need a wife. I need…a fiancée.” He met her gaze squarely. “You.”
Natalie gaped at him. “I don’t think so,” she managed before he cut her off.
“Hear me out. My father’s getting married.” He started to pace a bit again. “To make my grandmother happy.”
“What?”
“My grandmother is ill. Dying.” He seemed to force the word past his lips, and Natalie could see how shaken he looked as he said it. “She didn’t tell me. He did.” He sounded angry now. “Called me yesterday and dropped the whole thing on me. Her…illness. His wedding.” He raked fingers through his hair. “It’s to make her happy.”
“His wedding? I’m not sure weddings are supposed to make other people happy,” she ventured. “Except coincidentally, perhaps.”
“Well, it’ll make my grandmother happy. She thinks he needs to settle down. So he is.” Christo shook his head. “And I have to be there. I’m the ‘best man,’” he added, his tone twisting the words derisively.
She could see how much the prospect thrilled him. It was a mockery of everything he professed to believe. But then so was his “business proposal.”
“What’s the fiancée thing got to do with it?” Natalie asked.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Because she wants the same thing for me. Settling down. Marriage.” He looked positively hunted. “And if I don’t show up with someone in line for exactly that, she’ll feel like she has to throw every damn eligible woman in Brazil at me!”
“Let her,” Natalie suggested.
“No. She’ll want it too much…” His words trailed off, but Natalie thought she understood the implications.
“And you’re afraid you’ll marry someone to make her happy.”
He didn’t answer, but she had an inkling of how devoted he was to his grandmother. And if his father was marrying to please her, it wasn’t impossible to imagine Christo doing the same.
“If you come with me, I won’t have to,” he said now. As if it were up to her to prevent the disaster of matrimony.
“No,” Natalie said. “It would be wrong.”
“It isn’t wrong, damn it!” he countered, eyes blazing. “It’s not wrong to want her to have peace of mind.”
“It would be a lie.”
“We don’t have to lie.”
“You said you wanted to hire me to be your fiancée! That’s a lie.”
“Fine. I’ll propose. You say yes. And we can call it off when we get back!”
She stared at him, dumbstruck.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Just an…arrangement.” He took a breath. “We won’t lie, then. I’ll just bring you along. It will speak for itself.” His gaze entreated her.
Natalie hesitated.
“I won’t touch you again if that’s what you’re worried about.” His voice was harsh and he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Then she did stare. “What?”
