A Scent of Greek

by Tina Folsom

  “I don’t know. I just want to make sure he’ll learn how to treat a woman right.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.” Sarcasm fairly dripped off her friend.

  “You think I can’t do it?” Anger rose in Ari. Not even her friend had enough confidence in her. It was bad enough that she doubted herself. How had she even come up with that idea? All she really wanted was to get a second chance with Dio.

  “It’s going to blow up in your face.”

  “You’re such a pessimist.”

  “I’m just a realist. One day, he’ll gain his memory back and then he’ll be hopping mad at you. And what have you gained then?”

  “By that time he will have changed.” And he will have fallen in love with her by then and forgive her for her deception.

  “Let me tell you something about men: they don’t change. They are who they are, so you’ll either love them the way they are or not at all. Don’t think you can take the greatest cad and turn him into a pussy cat.”

  No, Ari knew she couldn’t turn him into a pussy cat, but could she at least turn him into the man who loved her? Could she get that moment back when Dio had called her his love?

  Chapter Eleven

  Dio left the cottage and made a mental note of the address, making sure he would find his way back. He’d found a driver’s license in his wallet together with several credit cards, all in the name of Dionysus Theos. Great, so not only did he have a totally unusual first name, his last name didn’t sound any better either. And his driver’s license had disturbed him too—a California license, with a Napa address. Did this mean he was merely visiting? Was Charleston not his permanent residence?

  For some reason, he didn’t want to mention it to Ariadne. It was better if he found out more about his life from her first before he started divulging things he’d discovered himself. He had an odd sense of needing to hide certain aspects of his life, and the thought made him feel uneasy. Why would he have to hide something from his fiancée?

  After fifteen minutes, he reached the first place he’d noted down on a piece of paper. He’d gone through the drawers of his desk and decided to visit all local addresses he’d found on business cards, notes, and invoices. Maybe if he visited those places, he’d notice something familiar to trigger his memory. It was worth a try. Besides, it was better than sitting around thinking about what he wanted to do with Ariadne: each and every idea involved them both in various states of undress. It was hot enough in the apartment; he didn’t need the added internal heat his thoughts about her produced.

  Dio looked up from his list of addresses and stared at the building he was facing. It was a flower shop, but the sign on the door indicated that the shop was closed due to a family emergency. He peered through the window, but there was nothing extraordinary about the place. Had he frequented the place and bought flowers for Ariadne here? The thought pleased him. He was a thoughtful fiancé.

  He stood there for a full five minutes, letting the impressions of the location flow through him. He inhaled the scent and perused the lettering on the large windows, the awning above, and the shops and residences across from it. But nothing seemed familiar.

  With a sigh, Dio consulted his map and started walking to the next place on his list. There were over a dozen places he’d written down, and if he made haste, he could probably hit six of them today. And if he was lucky, one of those places would trigger his memory. He just had to be patient.

  By the time evening rolled around, he had to admit defeat. None of the places he’d visited had given any indication that he’d ever been there before. No sense of déjà vu, not even the ghost of a memory. But he wasn’t giving up yet. Ariadne would answer some of his questions tonight when she came to see him.

  Trying to rid himself of the tension in his body, he pulled out a bottle of red wine from his wine fridge. As he uncorked it and poured himself a glass, he wondered how much of a wine aficionado he was, considering he had a wine fridge fully stocked with several dozens of bottles. As he took the first sip and let the wine swirl in his mouth, mixing with air, the aroma of the grapes exploded on his tongue: dark cherry and chocolate flavors with a hint of spice rolled down his throat. He liked it; he liked it a lot. And there was something else: pictures flicked on in his mind, very faint at first, but maybe if he took another sip, a memory would return.

  He set his lips to the glass again and took in the rich, red liquid. He allowed it to reach every corner of his mouth before he swallowed. Dio closed his eyes and let the impressions that came with the wine engulf him. A faint shimmer of a hilltop appeared before him. Clouds hung low in the sky. His gaze traveled over the picture, taking in olive trees and low bushes. Then his inner eye compelled him to look further up and search for something in the clouds. Shock made him jolt back. He gripped the counter and opened his eyes with a start. There on the cloud, he’d seen a man dressed in a short white tunic, a bow and arrow slung across his shoulder. He’d waved at Dio.

  Was he having hallucinations? Maybe a side effect of the amnesia? Dio shook his head. No, the picture had been clear and the man very familiar. It couldn’t be a hallucination. Maybe a dream?

  Dio emptied the glass and poured himself another one. He’d have to experiment with this. Maybe he just needed more wine as a trigger. It was evident that the memory of the taste of wine connected him to something in his past. It was a start at least.

  By the time the bottle was nearly empty, he’d conjured up the strange vision several times, each time with more clarity and details. But he could still not remember who the man on the cloud was, even though he was now sure that he was one of his friends.

  Dio was about to pour the rest of the bottle into his glass when the doorbell chimed. He instantly remembered that Ariadne had said she was coming by, so he buzzed her in and opened the apartment door. Her light footsteps echoed through the stairway, and a moment later she came into view as she walked up the remaining steps to his door.

  He smiled at her and noticed at once how tired she looked. He pulled her into his embrace, and she gave him no resistance. “Hey, baby. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day at the shop.”

  “Sit down before you collapse.” He pulled her inside and shut the door. When she let herself flop on the couch, he followed her and dropped down to her feet.

  “What are you doing?”

  He reached for her foot. “Making you relax.” He pulled both her shoes off and dropped them to the floor, then sat down next to her and pulled her sideways so her feet landed in his lap. Gently, he took one foot between his hands and massaged it.

  “Oh, that’s good,” Ariadne breathed.

  ***

  Ari let her head lean against the couch’s high armrest and closed her eyes. It was good to finally be off her feet. She’d debated whether to even visit Dio tonight, too tired and weary to want to face him, but the voice in her head hadn’t relented until she’d picked herself up and headed for his apartment.

  She felt as if she was driven by a foreign force stronger than herself. Maybe it was simply that her inner self was stronger than her shell after all. Hell, her mother had always accused her of having a will of iron, and she hadn’t meant it in a good way. However, perhaps her strong will would finally pay off.

  Dio’s hands felt like heaven as he rubbed her aching feet. They weren’t rough or calloused, rather his skin was soft and his touch firm. She’d felt those same hands on other—more intimate—parts of her body only two nights ago. The memory of their intimacies made her shudder.

  “Better?” His melodic voice reached her ears, sending a flutter right into her womb. She wanted to curse him for the way he made her feel, but pushing him off and forgoing this truly sensual pleasure was just too high a price to pay for her dignity right now. She would have to settle for treating him like her personal slave tonight.

  “I’ve been on my feet all day,” she evaded his husky one-word question. She lifted her lids and col
lided with his blue eyes gazing at her. Her heart stuttered. She’d barely looked at him when she’d arrived, trying to keep the temptation of touching him to a minimum, but now that he pinned her with his eyes, the obvious couldn’t escape her attention.

  “Your injuries are gone!”

  Ari shot up from the backrest and ran her eyes over every square inch of his skin, but there wasn’t a single bruise on his face, no cut, no blemish, and no swelling. How was that possible? Last night he’d looked like his entire face had been bashed in.

  Dio shrugged and grinned. “Guess I heal fast, huh?”

  Her mouth still gaped open. “That’s not medically possible.”

  “Told you I didn’t need a hospital. It was probably all blood from whoever attacked me and made me look worse than it was.”

  Sure, some of the blood could have been the other guy’s, but that didn’t explain why the swelling around his eye was gone and his formerly split lip was unmarred. “Did you put some ice on it last night?”

  “Like you told me to.”

  She nodded. “Maybe it wasn’t quite as bad as it seemed after all.” Yet she still couldn’t believe it. She had expected his face to be swollen for at least four or five days, considering the way he’d looked when she’d found him in the parking lot.

  “See, there was nothing to worry about.”

  She snorted. “Says the man without a memory. Any news on that?” Ari tensed instinctively. What if he’d already started to remember things? She eyed him from under her lashes, trying to read him.

  “Nothing whatsoever. That’s why I’m glad you’re here now. I figured you could tell me a little about me. Maybe it’ll make me remember things faster.”

  She swallowed. Did she really want to help him gain his memory back when her entire plan relied on him being clueless as to who he was—or more importantly, what kind of jerk he was?

  “I don’t really know where to start.”

  Dio’s hands stroked leisurely along her ankles. “How did we meet?”

  In order not to trip herself up in the future, she decided to stick with the truth, or at least a version of it. “At my shop. You came to buy wine. And then you asked me out.”

  “Just like that?”

  She smiled. “You’re very persuasive.” He hadn’t given up until she’d agreed to a date. And she’d loved that about him. He’d made her feel wanted.

  His fingers trailed higher up her calf, the touch still light. Nevertheless, it sent a wave of warmth rolling up her legs.

  “Am I?” He rewarded her with one of his devastating smiles and bent closer. “How persuasive?”

  She frowned. It figured that he’d turn the whole situation toward sex. She could feel it in her bones. The glint in his eyes was a clear sign of desire, and the way his hands now moved up to her knees mirrored what she read in them. She pulled back slightly. “Not that persuasive.” Then she took a deep breath, trying to block out his touch. “We started dating. And then we got engaged.”

  “That simple? How long were we dating?”

  “Seven months.” She hoped her answer was convincing. Did people get engaged that quickly?

  “Sounds fast.”

  Ari shrugged. “It’s all relative.”

  “I guess that means we’re very much in love?” His hand suddenly left her knees and moved higher up under the seam of her skirt.

  She had to stop him before it went any further and put her hand over his to halt his progress. “Very much. And we respect each other. That’s why we decided to wait.”

  Dio’s eyebrows drew together, and his mouth tightened into a thin line. “Yeah, you said that last night. But I don’t get it. If we’re that much in love why wait? I can’t imagine that I ever agreed to that.”

  “You did,” she said hastily, her mind scrambling for a convincing explanation. What had she said last night? Something about religion. “We’re both very religious.”

  He moved closer to her. Her legs were now lying clear across his lap and his torso was bent toward her. His eyes sent her a look that whirled her insides up like a hurricane. “I don’t feel particularly religious right now.”

  Her breath caught in her chest. “It’s probably just a side effect of your memory loss.”

  Dio shook his head. “No. I doubt very much that a memory loss could change my feelings toward you. So, if I want you now, what makes you think that I didn’t want you then?”

  Her throat went dry. God help her if he kissed her now. She wouldn’t be able to hold back, not with the way he looked at her, as if wanting to devour her whole. “It’s not that you didn’t want …”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying that you didn’t want me?”

  Considering the dark storm she noticed looming in his eyes, she decided to play it safe. “Of course I want you. But there are other things to consider.”

  His face turned into a mask of confusion. “What things?”

  Ari looked away, frantically trying to find a plausible reason as to why they would have agreed not to have sex. Her eyes swept over the coffee table where an empty wine glass stood next to an almost empty bottle. She recognized the vintage. It was one of the wines he’d bought from her shop. Had he just emptied the entire bottle by himself tonight? A thought burst into her mind.

  “It’s about your drinking problem.”

  She felt him jolt back, his hands instantly leaving her thighs. It was a relief on one hand, but a loss on the other.

  “My what?” His voice was a notch louder than before.

  “Your problem with alcohol.”

  “You’re trying to tell me I’m an alcoholic?” His head snapped to the empty bottle. “I had a little wine. But I don’t have a drinking problem.”

  She sat up straight, lowering her legs to the floor, and motioned toward the bottle. “That’s not just a little wine. That’s an entire bottle.”

  “Let me get this straight,” he said calmly. “You’re refusing me sex because you think I have a drinking problem.”

  “That’s not how it was. We agreed—”

  “No, you decided. I doubt I ever had a say in it. Looks more like you gave me an ultimatum. Isn’t that what you did? I’ll get sex if I stop drinking?”

  The wheels in her brain kept turning. Maybe this was the solution to her problem. As long as she could convince him that she wouldn’t have sex with him if he didn’t stop drinking, she was safe from him—and her own desire. And from the little she knew about Dio, of what she’d seen on their dates, he really appreciated good wine. Yes, he drank more than other men did, but he seemed to be able to hold his liquor well, and she’d never seen him drunk.

  “We agreed that we’d get married when you’ve dealt with your drinking, and once we were married we’d have sex.”

  Ari noticed the anger that churned up in him. He shot up from the couch, suddenly towering over her.

  “Two conditions, I see. First I deal with my drinking, then you want the ring on your finger. And only then, you’ll go to bed with me. Why did you get engaged to me in the first place when you have so little respect for me and for what’s important to me?”

  Dio stormed toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  He turned his head but didn’t look at her. “I’m going out. Considering that you’re not willing to sleep with me, what else can I do but drink? Ever thought of that?”

  The door slammed a second later.

  Damn! This wasn’t going well.

  Don’t worry, he’s just a hothead. He’ll calm down, the voice in her head assured her.

  Chapter Twelve

  As he downed the first glass in the dingy bar he’d come across, Dio felt marginally better. But his anger over Ariadne’s accusation hadn’t subsided—nowhere close to it. How could she expect him to give up wine? Today he’d discovered that wine seemed to be the only thing that triggered any sort of memory in him. How could he let go of that? What if it was the only way for him to recover from his am
nesia?

  Dio shook his head and ordered another drink. What she demanded from him was unacceptable. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t the kind of man who would have agreed to her conditions in the first place. Only a pussy-whipped wimp would. And he didn’t think he belonged to that vile species. He might have lost his memory, but he knew how he felt.

  He desired Ariadne, he ached to touch her and bury himself in her to the hilt, but he wasn’t an idiot who’d allow a woman to push him around like that, not even one he loved.

  There had to be another reason why she didn’t want to sleep with him, because her claim that it was his drinking that held her back was too unbelievable. Hell, she owned a wine shop! She of all people should understand his love of wine, and appreciate that, as far as he could tell, he was not a drunk. No, she was mad at him for something else, and for Hades’ sake, he’d get behind it.

  Hades’ sake? Where on Olympus did he come up with these strange expressions?

  He kicked the next glass back just like the first and kept ordering. Closing time came too early for his liking, but maybe it was just as well. He stumbled back to his pad, his legs almost giving out underneath him as he walked up the stairs. He made it as far as the living room.

  The last thing he saw were a bunch of flowers on the kitchen counter. He’d bought them for Ariadne, wanting to surprise her but had never had the chance to give them to her.

  Maybe it was better that way. There was no need to give her any more reason to believe he was a besotted idiot who would give into everything she demanded.

  His head spun, the alcohol in his blood finally catching up with him. He collapsed face down on the couch and passed out.

  ***

  Something made his eye twitch. Still barely awake, Dio eased one eye open and was met with a bright ray of sunshine. “Helius, I hate you right now,” he mumbled under his breath.

  A moment later he shot up from his prone position. What kind of stupid garbage was he spouting? Who the fuck was Helius? A thought came and went just as fast, but didn’t stick. Could he be a chemistry teacher? Maybe he’d meant helium, but why?