They left the hotel and walked to a nearby restaurant. It was quite early still, and the restaurant was deserted.
“They will think we are American tourists,” he grumbled as they were seated by the window overlooking the town square.
“Well, I am an American tourist, and you can pretend to be a Greek tourist.”
“No.”
She grinned. “You don’t want to be a tourist?”
“No.”
Georgia couldn’t stop smiling.
Nikos noticed. “What’s happened to you? You are all giggles and laughs today.”
“I’m having a good time.” She reached across the table and captured his hand. “And I hope you are, too.”
He attempted a scowl. “You’ve become overly affectionate, as well.”
“I think somewhere in your hard little heart, you like it.”
His jaw shifted, expression easing, and his dark eyes glinted. “Maybe just a little bit.”
She squeezed his hand. “I thought so.”
Over dinner of grilled lamb and fish and flavorful salads they talked about what they’d seen that day and the austere but mystical monastery. Georgia shared that she loved all the bright blue accents—the doors, the windows, the church cupolas—that turned simple Spartan villages into charming postcards.
“We know I’ve had a great time,” Georgia said. “But have you?”
“I have, actually. I enjoyed the day.”
“And you don’t resent me for forcing you to have an adventure? I know how much you cherish your time on Kamari.”
“And now I think you’re trying to provoke me.”
“Keeping it exciting,” she said.
“Mmm. A rebel, aren’t you?”
She mulled this over, then nodded. “I guess I am. No, I know I am. But in the end, it’s what saved my life. Leaving my family, leaving Africa. If I hadn’t insisted on returning to the States, I would have died with them. Savannah, too.”
“You weren’t worried about going to a big university in America?”
She shook her head. “I wanted a big American school and wanted to do all the things I’d only read about. College football games, parties, movies, dates, fun.”
“And was it fun?”
She nodded. “I loved it. So much. And I pushed Savannah to do the same. I told her she could always go back to Africa, but she owed herself the chance to be just a normal American girl for four years. Take four years, experience what everyone else your age experiences, and then decide what you want to do for the rest of your life.” Georgia looked away and exhaled slowly, remembering the day she’d heard about the attack that took place at the church, at the end of a Sunday service. She’d heard it on the news, not even realizing that the missionaries killed were her own family until hours later when Savannah got ahold of her.
The day everything changed.
She changed.
Her inner rebel, that wild, free spirit, died the day her family did, and she matured overnight, becoming the person Savannah needed. Someone strong and fearless. Someone confident and focused. Georgia promised Savannah that everything would be okay. She promised her sister that they’d make it through, assuring the eighteen-year-old that there was no reason to worry about anything but graduating from high school, because Georgia would take care of the rest...and Georgia had.
She’d found an apartment for both of them to live in near the high school Savannah would attend. Georgia paid bills—which often meant using her credit card for everything, putting them deeper into debt—but she wouldn’t tell Savannah or deny Savannah what was left of her adolescence.
“I became a donor because I thought it was the right thing to do,” she said quietly, filling the silence. “I knew it would be hard, but it seemed to be the most practical way to provide. It’d pay the bills, and there were a lot. But surrogacy...that’s something else.”
“Tell me.”
She shook her head. “Let’s talk about something else. I’m getting sad. I don’t want to be sad. This is supposed to be a holiday. Let’s focus on happy things, okay?”
CHAPTER NINE
NIKOS PAID THE BILL, and they left the restaurant just as it began to fill up. The night was cool but not cold, and they wandered through Chora’s narrow streets, getting glimpses of families relaxing at the end of the day. Men stood outside smoking together. Boys kicked a ball despite the shadows spilling into corners. Loud voices came from one house. A dog barked in another.
As they returned to the town center, heading for their hotel, they passed a couple with a stroller. Georgia and Nikos both looked down at the toddler, who was sitting up, taking in the world with wide, dark eyes as he contentedly sucked his thumb.
“I told you why I became a donor and a surrogate,” Georgia said to Nikos as they stepped back to let the couple with the baby pass. “But why did you decide that this was the right way to start a family?”
For a moment she didn’t think he was going to answer her, and then he leaned over and picked up a small coin he spotted next to the curb. He rubbed it between his fingers, cleaning it. “An American penny,” he said, handing it to her.
She looked down at the penny he’d placed in her palm. Smiling, she chanted the rhyme, “Find a penny, pick it up and all day you’ll have good luck.”
He smiled faintly. “Should we call it a night?”
Georgia nodded, hiding her disappointment. She wasn’t ready to go to bed, and she wanted to hear more about his marriage and why he’d chosen a surrogate, but she knew better than to push. He’d tell her if and when he was ready to talk. And if he didn’t, well, she had to respect that, too.
Upstairs on the second floor, Georgia started to unlock her door. She was aware of Nikos behind her, and she kept hoping he’d invite himself in or suggest they have an after-dinner drink, even if her drink was just the bottle of mineral water next to the side of the bed.
“It wasn’t a good relationship,” Nikos said abruptly. “My marriage was strained from the start. Elsa was unhappy most of our marriage, and she thought a baby would fix things. I thought a baby would only make things worse.”
Georgia slowly turned around, key forgotten. “So you refused to have a baby with her?”
“No.” He folded his arms over his powerful chest. “But you have to sleep together to conceive. Elsa wouldn’t let me come near her.”
“Why not?” And then she shook her head. “You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry that I ask so many questions.”
“I’m happy to talk, but I think somewhere more private would be better. We’ll go to my room. It has that little balcony. We can open the doors and get fresh air.”
But once inside his room there was no getting past the bed without noticing there was a bed. Georgia suddenly felt shy, which was odd considering she was pregnant with this Greek tycoon’s baby.
Nikos opened his bottle of water and filled the two glasses on the dresser. “Cheers,” he said.
She lightly clinked the rim of her glass to his. “To a great day with my new friend, Nikos Panos.”
He flashed her a lazy smile, a smile that didn’t strike her as particularly platonic. “Sit here. It looks like the more comfortable chair.” He in turn sprawled on the bed.
It wasn’t a huge bed, either. It reminded her of a bed in children’s rooms in America. She’d read that many of the European hotels were small, and so beds were small, too, but it didn’t seem like a proper size for a man Nikos’s size.
“Are we really friends?” Nikos said, studying her from beneath heavy lids with long black lashes.
“I think we should be. It’d make this attraction seem more logical.”
“You feel it now, then?”
“The chemistry between us?”
He nodded.
“I felt it all day,” she answered honestly. “I don’t even have to look at you and I can feel you. And we can be laughing about something, but I know that if you touched me, or kissed me, I’d be done for. I
’d just want more kisses.”
“Hmm.” He dragged his nails across the plain white coverlet on the bed. “You are nothing like her.”
The words were spoken so softly Georgia wasn’t even sure they were meant for her. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to explain, but then he looked at her, dark eyes piercing, and said, “She didn’t like it when I touched her. She didn’t want me to touch her. Elsa was uncomfortable making love...or at least, with the way I made love.”
Carnal. Aggressive.
Georgia was beginning to understand. “She was the one who made you question yourself.”
“It was no longer making love, but sex, and then the sex no longer felt consensual.”
“What happened then?”
“We stopped sleeping together. She moved into her own room. I had mine. We lived like that for almost a year.”
“Was it that way before you married?”
“We married very fast. I was respectful. We kissed and did things, but she wanted to wait until we married to have sexual intercourse, so we did.”
“And then you married and she didn’t want to do it?”
“I thought she needed time. I thought it was because it was all so new. But she said no—it was me. I was always angry and yelling and scaring her.”