Two nights later,he was waiting out the front of the restaurant when she finished her shift, watching her with eyes that were impossible to read. Her heart kicked up a notch, desire dwarfed by the force of her love, which had only grown since his confession the other evening.
“Have you eaten?”
She eyed him suspiciously, her heart in her throat. She couldn’t let him back in but, oh, how she wanted to! “I had some bread at the start of my shift.”
“Would you consider having dinner with me?” The words rang with intensity.
She shook her head, but he was moving closer to her, pressing his thumb to her chin, lifting it.
“Dinner. Nothing more. I won’t even tell you how completely you are my moon and stars.”
On cue, her tummy grumbled, and he arched a brow.
“Fine. Dinner,” she surrendered, her insides tightening with myriad feelings. “But it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Perhaps not to you, but to me,agape mou, it means the world.”
Rather than takingher to a restaurant, he’d chosen somewhere far more meaningful—he wanted to show her how well he knew her, how completely he understood her. He wanted to make her happy. “A storage facility?” She asked, frowning. “Are you planning to feed me, or kill me?”
He grinned, and the spark between them burned brightly, so she sobered immediately, pushing him away with every fiber of her being. The pain from that morning on the yacht whipped her back, reminding her of why she couldn’t do this again.
They drove through two gates and then, he typed in a pin code to access a secure garage. “Come on.”
He came around to her door, opening it for her, and when she stepped out, their bodies brushed. The world tilted wildly off its axis, but all he did was reach down and take her hand, weaving their fingers together.
She bit back a sigh.
He typed in a long numeric code and a door swung open, heavy and metallic, so she honestly wondered what would happen if they got trapped in here.
“It’s monitored,” he said, leading her deeper into the dark room. The smell of delicious food assailed her nostrils, but when he flicked on a light, food was the last thing she could think of.
“Ohmygod.” This was no ordinary storage facility. “Have you robbed The National Gallery?” She muttered, staring at the paintings lining the walls, some hanging, some resting against the wall. There were Van Goghs, Rembrandts, Degas, Da Vincis, Picassos, and so many, many more, from the best artists of all time. “I can’t believe this,” she said, walking from one to the other, tingling all over at the idea of being in the same room as these masterpieces. “My God, Anastasios, what is this?”
“Our family vault.”
“Your family vault,” she repeated. “You have these beautiful pieces in a vault?”
He shrugged, but his eyes clung to her with an intensity that made her stomach roll. “They are investments.”
“They should be on display,” she whispered, spellbound. “These are masterpieces. I’ve never even seen this one before.”
“It was privately owned, by one family, up until the nineties, when my father bought it.”
It took Phoebe over an hour to appreciate the pieces, and that was just a first glance. They sat in the middle of the floor, and ate picnic style, surrounded by the incredible art, so Phoebe could barely think straight.
“Do we have to go already?” She asked, when he cleared the food and moved to stand.
“I have to fly back to Greece,” he said with obvious regret. “But I’ll be back next week. Will you have dinner with me again?”
She wanted to agree, if only to see the paintings again, but already she could feel herself softening towards him, could feel her love leaking out of every pore of her body, overtaking her whenever she glanced at him or he spoke. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said with a shake of her head.
His lips pressed tight. “Just dinner.”
“But it’s not just dinner,” she said. “Is it?”
His expression showed guilt.
“I know you think you love me, or perhaps you just feel guilty for what happened between us, but I’ve already told you, I can’t get involved with you. It doesn’t matter how many world class paintings you own, that doesn’t change the fact that I need to guard my heart. I’m sorry.”