Elle settled back in the seat and tried to concentrate on the view as the limousine moved through the city.
“I’ve been curious about something,” he said, somewhere around Bloomingdale’s.
“Yeah? What’s that?” Her lips still tingled from his kiss. She resisted the urge to trace her lips with her tongue.
“Chip.”
She tried very hard to keep any trace of guilt from her features. “What about him?”
“You’re not involved with him.”
She thought about lying again, but it seemed ridiculously juvenile now. “No.”
“And you never were,” he exclaimed triumphantly, his relief palpable.
“I was.” She enjoyed the surprise on his features. “But we’ve just been friends for a long time.”
Christos leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “When?”
“When what?” She asked with assumed confusion.
“When were you with him?”
“I told you. A long time ago.”
He pulled a face. “Which could mean six months ago or six years ago.”
“When I was just fifteen. We were just kids,” she said. “Why does it matter?”
“Because I’ve been plotting devious ways to get him out of the picture,” he said with a slow laugh.
“There’s no need.” She swallowed convulsively. “But that doesn’t mean I’m available. For you.”
He nodded, but his lips were twitching. “Good. I’m glad we’ve got that straightened out.” And at her look of indignation, he reached further forward and padded his thumb across her lip. “Don’t be frightened, agape mou. I’m going to look after you.”
She stared at him. “Until when? Until you bore of me, as you’ve threatened again and again that you will?”
He cursed his own stupid anger then. The threats he’d thrown at her were his worst enemy.
“I miss you.” She said the words so quietly they were hardly audible. “I miss you so much that I can hardly sleep. But there’s something worse than missing you.”
He made a sound of impatient frustration. “What is worse than this hell?”
“Having you. Being with you. And always waiting. Waiting for the next time you speak to me like you did. For the next time you tell me to leave.” She turned her face towards the window, and appeared to stare with concentration at the passing buildings. “I can’t live like that.”
Her grief was real.
So too was her mistrust.
And she was showing excellent instincts to be regarding him with such pessimism. He’d had her trust, and he’d thrown it away as though it meant nothing. If only he’d known then that her good-regard was the most important thing in his world.
“I will be what you need,” he said, talking to her blank profile. “I will show you you can trust me.”
She didn’t react. In fact, she didn’t speak or move until the car drew to a halt. Then, as if waking from a dream, she blinked, boxing away the tangled, knotty thoughts that had been running through her mind and peered closer towards the window.
It was obviously an excellent address. The street was lined with neat awnings, potted plants and liveried doorman. It lacked the eclectic comfort of The Village though. The door opened and she stepped out, her eyes skidding past the driver’s form.
“Which one?” The question was grim and she didn’t care.
“Here.” He nodded at the green awning right in front of them.
“Mr Rakanti,” one of the doormen greeted as they approached. “Miss Bradley.” He held the door and Christos nodded.
“After you, Elle.”
Her back was stiff as she walked into the foyer. She bit back a curse word. “This place is the definition of opulent.”
He shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“Maybe you do.” She shook her head. “But I can’t see Filip here.”
He put a hand in the small of her back. “Just wait.”
He slipped a card into the lifts and pressed the button for thirty four. “The whole floor would be Filip’s. There are no other apartments.”
“That’s insane.”
“It’s the sub-penthouse. What did you expect?”
Not this, she thought, as the doors swung open to reveal a wide, tiled corridor. “He’s a teenage boy. You really think he needs to live like this?”
“Just wait,” he said again, propelling her further down the hallway. The apartment was furnished, and she scanned the assortment of items with curiosity.
“Is this your stuff?”
“No. It’s Filip’s.” When she sent him a sceptical look he pointed towards the lounges. “Everything here is modified for disability access. He will be comfortable here, Elle. He’ll be able to move around easily, enjoying his surroundings without worrying that his wheel’s going to snag on carpet or that he’s going to knock books out of the shelf.”
“Like in my poky little place?”
He held back the exasperated sigh. “I’m not trying to offend you, but yes. Like your apartment. Which is fine. It’s lovely. But it’s small. And it’s cluttered. And Filip feels like he’s rolling over eggshells when he’s there.”
“Don’t,” she said stiffly. “Don’t say that. My whole life for the last four years has revolved around making a home for him.”
“I know that. And so does he.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. “But look around here and tell me that this isn’t best for him? Push aside your own ego and picture Filip here. Imagine the life he would have.” He nodded towards the balcony. “He would have his own plunge pool.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No.” And as they neared the glass doors she saw that he was right. Furthermore, a device had been built which she could only presume was to make it easier for him to get in and out of the pool and back to his chair.
“With a view of Manhattan to die for.”
“You sound miserable. Why don’t you want this for him?”
“You’re turning my brother into your little clone! I don’t want him to be like you.” She spun around to face him. “I don’t want him to think money doesn’t matter. I don’t want him to treat women like dirt.”
“I don’t do that.” He gripped her cheeks, holding her face close to his. His voice was hoarse. “I will never forgive myself for what I said to you. For the things I did. I have never hurt a woman like I hurt you.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” She shrugged away from him and stepped back into the lounge, pulling a shroud of cool unconcern around her heart. “But you’re right. This place will be perfect for Filip. He’ll love it.”
He exhaled a slow sigh of relief. “Good. And you will have to live here too. For your own security.”
She nodded, numb. “I wouldn’t want him here without me. I’m his sister.”
His eyes were glued to her face, searching the features for any sign of understanding. “Haven’t you ever done something that was out of character?”
She spun to face him, her heart racing. “You know I have. The night I met you.”
He arched a brow questioningly.
Nervously, she moved away from him, down the hallway. It was easier to speak if he wasn’t staring at her. “When I was a teenager, I went through a phase.” She cleared her throat. “I guess I saw the way my mom lived and I thought it was pretty cool. For a time. I got caught up in,” she waved a hand in the air. “You know. All that stuff.”
“No.” He caught up with her but didn’t touch her. He didn’t want to do anything that might destroy the spirit of conversation. She paused at the door of a room. There were handles by the bed and she eyed them curiously. “For Filip,” he said, impatient that she continue.
She moved onwards, to the next bedroom. It was beautiful, with a spectacular view. “Yours. If you want it.” He studied her face. It gave little away. “You were saying?”
“Oh, right.” She
furrowed her brow. “I learned my lesson. That sort of behaviour … it’s just not for me.”
“What sort of behaviour, exactly?”
“You know. One night stands.”
“Because of your own experiences?” He prompted, guiding her further down the hallway.
She nodded distractedly and the jealousy was a firm knife in his gut.
“Chip?” He prompted.
She sent him a side-long glance. “We were kids.” She shook her head. “And very drunk on cheap Estonian wine.”
“So the night we met?” He prompted, honing back to the original point.
“Right. I mean, I didn’t need to sleep with you.” Her cheeks flushed. “The plan was to get a photo of you and me together. Hannah said it would be better if we … if we …”
“Had sex,” he prompted.
“Right,” she nodded awkwardly. “But I would never do that. With someone I’d just met.” She shook her head. “Then I met you. And I just … I just knew I had to go with it.”
“I’m glad you did.”
She stopped walking. “I don’t need to see anything else. It’s fine. Better than fine. Filip will be happy here.”
“Actually, there’s one more thing you need to see.”
“What is it?”
“It’s upstairs.”
She frowned. “I didn’t see any stairs.”
He laughed and walked back towards the lift. She followed.
“Christos?”
He lifted a finger to her lips. “Be patient.”
He swiped the key once more and the lift ascended one more floor. “What is this?” She stepped into another apartment. The floor plan was similar, though this was clearly even more grand. “Who lives here.”
“I do.”
She spun around to face him, her expression showing her surprise.
“You live in Athens.”
“No. Now I live here.”
Elle felt hot and cold; stars were sparkling before her eyes. “No,” she said slowly. “Your home is in Athens. I’ve been there.”
“And it’s still there. You can go there again. But if you’re here, in New York, then I am too.”
She ground her teeth together. “I told you I can’t be with you.”
“That night we met, something weird happened to me too.”
“Yeah?” She was mocking. Her disbelief was obvious.
“I fell in love. I mean literally, I think I fell in love with you the second I saw you. Definitely by the next morning, when I saw that text from Hannah.” He linked his fingers through hers. “I have never known anything like that sense of betrayal and terror. The power you had over me made me feel raw and exposed. When you hurt, I hurt.”
“I would never hurt you,” she said darkly, stepping away from him. “Not the way you did me.”
“I know that. Because you, my beautiful, sweet Ellie, are a far, far better person than I.” He cupped her hands. “But if you just give me a second chance, you’ll see that I want this. That I will spend every day wanting you. Trying to deserve you.” He brought his nose to brush against hers. “That I would die before I would ever risk hurting you again.”
Her breath was shaky. Trust was always an unquantifiable emotion. How could one explain the way they became willing to take that leap of faith? To look into someone’s eyes and agree that they were worth the risk? That they would risk all the pain and heartbreak in the world for the chance that just maybe everything would work out?
Elle stared at him, her heart racing, her mind spinning. “Why? Why me?”
His smile was fatalistic. “Because I love you.” He shrugged.
“But why?”
He kissed her lips and she felt everything in her body fire back to life. “Because of that.” He put his arm around her and gently led her deeper into his penthouse. “Because I touch you and feel like I can do anything. I kiss you and know I don’t want to be anywhere else. Because waking up beside you is like waking up in a different universe. Because I look at you and I see perfection and potential. I see a person I want to do anything and everything for, just for a single smile.” He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her to his chest. “But if you say that you truly want me to leave you alone, that your life is better and happier and complete without me, then I will go. Because your happiness, this is what I want most of all.”
She sobbed and for a moment he felt the cement pour inside his chest. The fear of losing her anew was the risk he’d known he would have to face. “Well?”
“I don’t know,” she said unsteadily, though her heart was singing. “The things you said…”
“I was a stupid ass,” he said angrily. “A total fool.”
“No,” she shook her head, and now it was her turn to kiss him. She pressed her lips lightly to his and felt him relax. “A better answer would be this: I was a fool, but I did it because my mom had just buried her husband. Because I’m a good person and I love my mother, and I was terrified that she’d be hurt by the truth about Filip. And so I lashed out, even though I knew you would never do such a thing, in my heart of hearts.”
He nodded, filled with hope but barely allowing himself to believe. “Yes. Let’s go with that.”
She laughed, but slowly, the importance of that night was fading. The pain was going too, ebbing away into the tide of emotion that formed the ocean of their relationship. She pressed her head to his chest and then stepped away. “What is that?” Though it was a question that didn’t require an answer.
“You seemed to like it,” he shrugged.
“You brought your piano over?”
He nodded. “Of course. I thought that if I had it here it would at least be a reason for you to visit me.”
She laughed. “You’re not enough?”
“Insurance never hurts,” he said with a grin. “I would have put it downstairs except you’ve been so adamant that you’d never accept anything from me … I thought you might take offence and push it off the balcony.”
“Never!” She said with mock outrage. “Not an instrument like this.”
“Then it’s yours.”
She smiled. “I like the idea of it being yours. It is an excellent reason to come and see you. After all, I’d need to practice twice a day, at least.”
“Twice a day?” His frown was a mask. “Then I guess it might even make sense for you to move in.”
Her heart thrilled in her chest.
“To move in? Here? With you?”
He nodded with mock severity. “Better than us wearing out the elevator cables going back and forth.” He caught her blonde hair in his hand and angled her face towards his. “Do you really want to be anywhere else?”
She bit down on her lip. “No. I really don’t.”
He tilted his head back. “So you’ll stay?”
She laughed. “Yeah. I guess so.” She nodded. “That’s what I’m saying.” She sobered, arranging her features into an expression of consideration with effort. “But Christos? What I said still stands. I’m happy to move in here, but I don’t want you to go crazy with lavish gifts. Just … let me be who I am, and get used to all this.”
His love for her, already a force that was threatening to overwhelm him, swelled tidally. It had never occurred to him that his money, his legacy, his fortune and power, wouldn’t be pieces of the puzzle when a woman fell in love with him. Not the entire reason, but surely they would hold some sway. That Elle almost viewed them as disincentives was the highest recommendation that he had found someone worthy of his love.
“Done.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Except for one tiny, teeny thing.”
“What’s that?”
“One day, when I think you’ve settled in to all this, I might surprise you with some jewellery. Just something small. Something you can wear.” He lifted her hand and kissed her ring finger. “Right here.”
The surprise at what he was suggesting quickly gave way to an overwhelming sense of perfection. “One day,” she agr
eed softly, “I would probably be happy to let you give me that.”
Epilogue
Three years later.
Every single seat in the main hall of Carnegie was filled. Anticipation and expensive fragrance filled the air. Elle looked out but could hardly see anything for all the butterflies assaulting her stomach.
“Hey.” Andre scanned her face. “You’re not going to pass out are you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He grinned. “Good. This is your debut, Ellie, and you’ve worked damned hard to get here.”
She lifted her eyes to his. “Is Christos out there yet?”
“Front row,” Andre nodded. “Along with Xanthe, Filip and Caroline, Hannah and Chip. The whole Team Elle.”
She laughed. “God, I’m so nervous.”
“That’s good. Everyone is before they perform.”
“Even you?” She prompted sceptically.
“Are you kidding me?” He twitched the curtain aside for her to peer out. “Look at this. You’re about to play for a packed Carnegie Hall. There hasn’t been as much interest in a classical pianist since I came on the scene.” He winked, earning a tight laugh from her. “Use your nerves, Ellie. Use them to your advantage.”
She nodded.
“You’ve got this.”
“I know.” And the second she walked on stage, she did. It was just her, the piano, and the music. The audience ceased to matter. The press. The guy who’d come from SONY and was hounding her to sign up to their classical label and release an album. That was just flotsam in the ether.
A single spotlight flooded the stage.
Elle was radiant.
Christos could barely contain his love and pride as he watched her play. He always loved her. For three years he’d woken up every morning and made good on his promise to cherish and adore her. Of course they argued from time to time, but Christos never allowed them to sleep without resolving whatever issue had been troubling them. Elle was his match. In every way.
And with every day that passed he grew more and more convinced that he’d won the lottery the night he’d met her.
But in that moment, while she weaved magic through song, he could only watch, transfixed, like every other member of the two thousand strong audience. She wasn’t his lover in that moment. She was everyone’s. She was an entity of force, a spirit of nature and culture, humming amongst them.
Pairs VIII Page 32
