‘Dark? Dimitri, it’s eleven in the morning!’
‘No, Anna, did you not hear that? It was the nightingale, not the lark.’
Anna let out a gasp. ‘How dare you corrupt Shakespeare to your own ends?’
Dimitri shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. ‘If it would help my cause I’d—’
Anna cut him off with a kiss. His megawatt charm was more devastating than any of his previous anger or righteous indignation. The look in his eyes made her hope, dared her to believe that this was how things could be. And for the first time in three years Anna desperately wanted to throw caution to the wind, to seize this day, this moment, this feeling for herself.
Dimitri’s phone pinged twice, alerting him to new emails, and he swept it up quickly and checked. If there was something secretive about it, the look of surprise, then of satisfaction, that flashed in his eyes smoothed over any misgivings. He looked...happy. That was what it was. For the first time since she’d met him...he seemed happy. And she couldn’t help but feel that she had contributed somehow, she had helped him reach that state.
‘Something important?’
‘Two somethings, but I’ll explain later,’ he assured her, his eyes sparkling. ‘Now, we have to get going,’ he said, whisking Anna and Amalia up in a whirlwind of excitement and happiness.
* * *
Five hours later and Dimitri was worried. It had been an almost perfect day. They’d taken the boat into Piraeus and his car had picked them up and whisked them off to Athens, to galleries and the Parthenon. He’d laughed at Anna’s sheer delight at a simple lunch of souvlaki, washed down with an ice-cold beer. The easy way she had with both Amalia and him was touching him deeply after the past few months fraught with tension and pent-up frustration. But his plans for his surprise for Anna were now complete, and for the first time he was beginning to doubt his decisions.
He’d wanted to give her something, anything, to help show her that she had given him such a gift. Just before they’d left for Athens, David had emailed to say that Manos had agreed to his visit request. He’d shared that information with Anna in the restaurant, and the smile she had greeted the news with had only inflamed the hope in his heart. It had felt right that he should receive that news today—when his plans for Anna had been underway in his home.
It had been a big project, and Dimitri had paid handsomely to have the changes to his home made and completed in just a few hours. He worried that he’d missed something, forgotten something that Anna might need. But he knew that wasn’t what really concerned him. The greatest worry was that he’d got it horribly wrong. That the surprise might not quite be something that Anna would welcome. And that fear? It was almost as great as the one he’d felt about her not agreeing to their marriage.
‘Are you okay?’ Anna asked as the boat docked at the jetty. The sun was readily setting and Amalia was tired, wriggling in her arms, after such an exciting day.
‘Nai. Let’s...let’s put Amalia to bed, and then...then we can...’
Why was he finding it so hard to get out a simple sentence?
‘Then we can...?’
‘Have the rest of the evening to ourselves,’ he concluded, not having to fake the desire he felt at the idea of having Anna all to himself. Spending time with Amalia was incredible, but he’d missed three years of Anna too and now he just couldn’t get enough of her.
Instead of leading them into the living room, Dimitri led Anna, still carrying Amalia, straight up to the bedroom. If she went anywhere else, if she even turned on the lights, then the surprise would be blown.
When Anna went towards her room
he nearly shouted for her to stop. She turned back at him, laughing.
‘Really, Dimitri. What on earth is going on?’
‘I...’
How had she made him so tongue-tied? Was it her or was it what he so desperately wanted to show her? he wondered.
‘Come with me?’ he asked, the uncertainty in his voice making him cringe inwardly. He wanted so badly to do something for her. To show her all the things that he seemed incapable of saying.
He took her by the hand and led her back downstairs. The sunset bled through the windows, lighting the living room and door to the study in orange hues. He paused outside the room that was once his study, marvelling at how easy the decision had been to give up his space in his home, once he’d given it up in his heart.
His hand paused on the door handle. For just a moment he took a breath. Looking back to Anna, he could see the beginnings of concern in her gaze. He shook his head; he didn’t want her to be worried. He pushed open the door and stepped back for her to see.
For a moment Anna was too distracted by Dimitri, by the hesitancy written across his powerful features, to look into the room. But, following his gaze, she turned to look at what had once been an office and was now...
Speechless, she took a tentative step into what was now, from just a glance, an incredible art studio. The desk and computer had been removed and in their place were long wooden benches lining two walls. On the third wall was a stack of shelves full of huge, plastic-wrapped slabs of clay, and so many different-coloured glazes she didn’t know where to begin. Her fingers reached out to touch the spindle of chicken wire she could use as a frame, rasps and rifflers, wire-end modelling tools, cutting tools and some she didn’t even know the names of.
She stepped further in and saw the pottery wheel in the middle of the room, cast in shadow from the setting sun, through the huge French windows leading out to the patio, where she saw...
‘Is that a kiln?’ she nearly cried. ‘You installed a kiln?’