Without waiting for Savas’s answer, Nikos closed the door behind him. Fear-fueled anticipation flew hot in his veins. He couldn’t wait to see her, couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms.
Because this time, he didn’t feel resentment at the thought of the woman who had been through so much and yet had such a capacity to love. This time, he wanted that love. This time, he wanted to love her as she deserved to be loved.
* * *
Lexi was opening a can of mushroom soup when a knock sounded on the door. She knew it wasn’t Faith, because Faith was playing the adult, much-less-fun version of hide-and-seek with her. Tired of putting up an elaborate pretense when she was already feeling fragile, Lexi had given it to her straight—everything she had learned about her and Tyler, all the lies that Faith had told her.
And then burst into tears like a raving lunatic the moment Faith had asked about Nikos. To give her credit, Faith had stayed back a full day, looking after Lexi before splitting.
Lexi knew she wasn’t gone forever, and with Tyler staying back in Greece for the time being, Faith was the only friend Lexi had. But she had told Faith in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t put up with any kind of nonsense.
But rattling around in the apartment that she had shared with both Tyler and Faith all by herself wasn’t helping her already-vulnerable state. More than once, Lexi had indulged the thought of calling Nikos, had wondered how he was. But the next moment her thoughts turned to his engagement, and the vicious cycle circled back to fury at him.
That fury, it was the one thing that was holding her together. She couldn’t bear to think about what would be left when it was gone, too.
The knock sounded again.
With a sigh, she took a peek through the peephole and jerked back as though bitten.
Clad in a long coat, his mouth set into a tight line, Nikos stood on the other side of the door.
Her heart, if possible, might have jumped out of her chest. For a few seconds, she forgot to breathe as panic flooded her muscles. Tears hit the back of her eyes with the force of a thunderstorm.
“Open the door, Lexi. I know you’re in there.”
The nerve of the man to think she was hiding from him! Sucking in a sharp breath, she undid the dead bolt and opened the door.
And felt the impact of his presence like a pealing pulse everywhere in her body. His tie dangled from his throat, his dress shirt unbuttoned and crinkled. He already had stubble—which meant he had shaved only once today—the very sight of which gave her tingles in the strangest places.
She had complained once that it rasped her skin, and he had begun shaving twice. Then she had complained that she missed it. He had grown it in the next day and tickled the inside of her thighs with it.
Dear God, the man could turn her inside out.
Fighting the upsurge of color, she stood in front of the door and eyed him nervously. “If this is about me taking that laptop, I’m sorry, but I’m not returning it. Put it under damages that were due to me.” She had to keep this light, self-deprecating, or she would collapse into tears right there.
“That’s what you think I came over for? Because you took a laptop?” He threw her a narrowed look before striding through the small gap and entering the apartment. The quiet brush of his body against hers made her tense.
With a sigh, she closed the door and leaned against it.
Cursing, she ran a nervous hand over her abdomen. Even with clothes mussed from the flight, he looked breathtakingly gorgeous and effortlessly sexy. It was not fair that one man had everything—looks, sexuality and the arrogant confidence to carry it off so easily.
She couldn’t think like this about him. He was engaged to another woman. There were a few lines she wouldn’t cross, even in thought. But the sight of his sunken eyes, and the protruding cheekbones, the tired look, gave her immense satisfaction.
Really, she needed to channel Ms. Havisham more.
“Where is your fiancée?”
“In Athens, I assume, with her lover.”
“If this is a pitch about sophisticated open marriages and New York sex stops—” she wasn’t going to break down again, at least not until he left “—then get out. I have work to do.”
He shrugged his coat off and threw it on the couch behind him. Pushing the sleeves of his shirt back, he picked up a sketch from the couch. And casually rolled the grenade onto the floor. “The engagement is off.”
Her mouth fell open. For a few seconds, she wondered if she had imagined the words, if she was, once again, lapsing into an alternate reality in which he came back to her and professed undying love.
“Lexi? Are you all right?”