by Lucy Monroe
“Watch out, someone is going to think you are a closet romantic, Ariston.” Someone like his wife.
“I am sure my reputation can handle it.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. The carpet you purchased for me on our first honeymoon—”
“With a lot less haggling,” she interjected. “You paid too much, but I did not mind.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
“What about it?” she asked when he said nothing further as they meandered back toward the cruise dock.
“Hmm?”
“The carpet in your office—you were saying something about it when I interrupted you.”
“Oh, yes. Only that it has brought a smile to my face on many occasions.”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“Because you think I paid too much?” And he found that amusing?
“Because it reminds me of your very generous nature. Do you remember how you asked the merchant, who happened to be father and uncle to the women who made it, if you could give him money to pass directly onto the weavers in thanks for their skill and efforts?”
Honestly, she’d forgotten. “He was really pleased,” she remembered.
“Yes. As I’m sure the women were as well to receive the money.”
“So? That makes you smile, to think of that?” she clarified.
“Yes. Thoughts of you often make me smile.”
“If you don’t watch it, I’m going to think you’ve fallen for me.”
He didn’t look the least worried by the idea. “It is only natural that I should enjoy thoughts of my wife.”
“Way to sidestep the issue.”
He stopped in the street and looked down at her, his azure eyes probing. “Is there an issue?”
“No.”
“You are happy?”
“Very much so.” He made her feel like the most important woman in the world and how could she be anything less than thrilled with that?
Maybe words weren’t as important as actions. She’d still like them—those three very important words that said so much—but wasn’t about to live the rest of her life pining for something she might never have.
Enjoying what she did have sounded so much smarter.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“WOULD you like to go swimming tonight?” Ariston asked as they entered their suite later to get ready for dinner. “We can take advantage of the privacy after the spa pool has been closed to the rest of the ship.”
“Yes …” Chloe’s voice trailed off, her eyes going wide at the changes in their room.
The table had been set elegantly for dinner, complete with white linens, LED candlelight and roses. Champagne chilled in a standing ice bucket beside it and a flat gift box rested on top of one of the place settings.
The bed had been turned down, rose petals strewn across its expanse, and chocolate truffles placed in the center of each of their pillows.
“What’s going on? We’re dining in tonight?”
“I hope you do not mind. It is our last night onboard. I wanted to spend it with you alone.”
“You really are a closet romantic,” she said with awe and just a touch of amusement.
He shrugged, but color burnished his cheekbones. “I ordered the honeymoon package. It is always good to check the quality of our services.”
Right. Likely story. “So, it’s all your ship’s staff’s fault?”
“You don’t like it?”
“Don’t be a jerk. I love it.”
He moved to stand near her, reaching out to brush at the hair that had escaped the clip she’d put it in that morning. “First an idiot, now a jerk … I am worried what will come next.”
“Man, you don’t forget anything, do you?”
“No.”
“I’ll have to make sure I remember that.”
“So, you are okay with having our last dinner onboard in our suite?”
“More than.” She loved the idea of having him all to herself.
They would be returning to real life fast enough where his company demanded most of his waking hours.
“Good.” He pulled her into his arms, his hands sliding down to press her body into his. “I enjoy having you to myself.”
“Me too,” she had no problem admitting.
They kissed, but he kept things from getting too intense. She didn’t mind. There were a thousand different ways to kiss her husband and she enjoyed them all. This warm affirmation of affection was wonderful and she let herself melt into him, trusting that he would take care of them both.
After too short of the blissful interval, he pulled back. “Appetizers will be arriving momentarily.”
“I’m going to be halfway to my weight goal for being able to get pregnant by the end of this cruise. You realize that, don’t you?”
“I would like nothing better.”
Only he didn’t sound as if he was thinking about her weight at all. And for once, she didn’t think the worst—like to wonder if the whole point of the honeymoon had been to get her ready for carrying his child. He’d been too attentive and consistent for her to think his motives for this trip had been mercenary.
She had a hard time attributing ulterior motives to anything he did when he made her feel so cherished.
She grinned. “Okay. Shall I dress for dinner?”
“It would be my preference that you undress, but since the wait staff will be delivering our food, I will be content if you stay as you are until then.”
“I’m not eating in the nude, Ariston.”
“Perhaps you would wear that lovely gown you bought in the gift shop?” he asked with a very hopeful expression.
“I didn’t think you saw me buying that.” It was a mint-green silk negligee complete with peignoir that she’d thought to surprise him with upon returning home.
And so she told him.
“You can surprise me again. Rest assured, my enthusiasm will not be dimmed for the repeated experience.”
She nodded, thinking that maybe, like with the rug, having a nightgown that reminded him of the closeness and intimacy they’d shared on this trip would be a good thing.
“If I’m going to wear lingerie to dinner, I think I’ll bathe beforehand. You can knock on the en suite after our food has been delivered.” With that, she disappeared into the luxurious bathroom.
She’d thought cruise ship accommodations would be tighter, and no doubt they were in the rest of the ship, but Ariston’s personal suite was spacious and had all the finer appointments, like leather furniture, a king-size bed that gave an absolutely fabulous night’s rest and marble in the bathroom that came complete with a Jacuzzi tub.
She imagined all his top-of-the-line suites shared some things in common, but doubted any of them were quite as posh.
Chloe heard voices in the room after she’d been soaking only a few minutes. No wonder Ariston had been so careful to keep their kisses from going incendiary.
As much as she might have liked to relax in the tub longer, she made quick work of washing before letting the tub drain. It would have been more fun with Ariston anyway, and she didn’t want to make dinner cold waiting on her.
She took only a few moments to lotion her face before brushing out her hair and donning the gorgeous nightgown and peignoir. The green silk was too thin to be completely opaque, but the lace-accented peignoir lent another layer of modesty … or titillation, depending on how one looked at it.
Her guess was that Ariston would lean toward the latter.
When she came out of the en suite, his expression was everything she could have wanted it to be upon seeing her. He looked as if he wanted to eat her up.
Perhaps she should have bought the matching set in white, only she’d thought it was too virginal and having been married twice now—if to the same man—she felt anything but.
“You’ll have to wait until after dinner.” She smiled, doing nothing to hide her own desire.
He crossed the room in a few long strides and pulled her against him. “Perhaps we should have dessert first.”
“Anticipation will only improve the experience, or so you used to tell me.” He hadn’t made any such claims on this trip.
“I am less patient than I used to be, I find.”
“Isn’t it supposed to go the other way round? You’re supposed to be more patient as you get older?” she teased.
“So Pappous says, but at least in this, I will have to believe he is wrong.”
She shook her head, laughing softly as she pulled from Ariston’s arms and went over to the table. “Dinner first. I didn’t put this on just for you to take it right back off.”
“But didn’t the saleslady tell you that was exactly the destiny of such nightwear?”
She had actually and Chloe had blushed crimson. Now she just felt warm inside.
When she simply stood by the table expectantly, Ariston finally sighed, doing his best to look put-upon, but not succeeding with any real potency.
“Come, this is your seat.” He pulled out the chair in front of the place setting with the gift.
“I thought maybe it was.”
“Smart aleck.”
“I like yineka mou better.”
“I do too,” he said in a strangely husky tone as he saw her seated.
She looked up, only to be caught by an intense azure gaze. No words passed between them for long moments as they maintained the electric eye contact.
Finally, he brushed his hand down her cheek. “Mine.”
“For a lifetime, or so the paper says.”
He nodded, not even cracking part of a smile at her attempt at humor. “So the paper says and this time, I will not let you go.”
She couldn’t help but believe him and that belief sent warmth unfurling through her heart.
“I’m not letting you go either,” she promised.
“Good.”
Once he’d found his own chair, she lifted the gift. “Am I to wait to open it?”
“I could say anticipation will make it all the better.”
“You could.” She tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but they both knew she had a weakness for presents.
Always had.
“But I will not. Please, open it now.”
She did so with alacrity, tearing at the heavyweight embossed paper, but wasn’t sure she understood what she found in the nicely wrapped box.
“This gallery is in New York, isn’t it?” She held up a set of glossy photos of a nice-looking small gallery that seemed to display an eclectic assortment of artwork. “Are we going to an opening?”
She grinned before he could answer. “I would love that. You know how much I enjoy galleries that don’t limit their pieces to one artistic genre.”
“I am sure we will attend many openings at this particular gallery. Look at the papers below the pictures.”
She lifted them out and unfolded what turned out to be an official-looking set of documents. “This is a deed,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“In my name.”
“It is.”
“You bought me an art gallery?” She couldn’t quite believe that’s what all this meant. “In New York?”
“The first time you married me, you gave up your schooling. I cannot change that, though if you would like to enroll in the Art Institute of New York, I’ve had Jean confirm that your credits will transfer from the art institute you attended previously.”
“Really? I…. That’s great.” She didn’t know what else to say. She had no intention of going back to school, but she sensed that right now wasn’t the time to get into that.
“This time, you had to give up personally running your gallery and shop in Oregon, the life you had built for yourself there. If I said I was sorry, I would be lying, because I want you with me, but I prefer you be happy in your new life. Not merely content.”
“I see.” Well, she didn’t, not really, but it was amazing and wonderful and she would take it. She would so take it.
“You enjoyed running your gallery and shop on the coast. It is important you have something to occupy your passion for the arts in New York as well. You will have to have a proficient assistant manager as our life is not static and you will spend significant time away from New York though.”
He sounded almost apologetic for that fact, but she didn’t want him to be. This was amazing.
“That’s fabulous!” She jumped up and was around the table in record time.
“You’re wonderful!” Throwing herself into his lap, she kissed every inch of his face and neck that she could reach. “Thank you, Ariston. Thank you so much. I love it! This is the best gift anyone has ever given me. No one in my life has ever been so thoughtful.”
“I could hardly get you a rug to put in your studio. It would be covered in paint splatters in no time,” he said, sounding almost humble.
She knew better and she loved him for it. “You are the best husband ever.”
And light-years ahead of her father, who had been happy enough for her mother to paint, but who had always made it clear that her mother’s responsibilities as the wife to the owner of Dioletis Industries came first.
Ariston preened and grinned and then kissed her to within an inch of her life.
They didn’t get to dinner until later after all.
When the ship docked the next morning, Ariston and Chloe disembarked and took one of the Spiridakou limousines to his grandfather’s home outside Piraeus.
Takis had decided to make the most of his first trip to New York and had spent the first week of their trip allowing Chloe’s father to show him around the Big Apple. He’d been home a couple of days now and had evinced excitement at their coming visit, when they’d called from the ship a couple of days before.
He made them sit on the terrace that overlooked the harbor and eat breakfast, sure they couldn’t have had anything substantial before their early disembarkation. He was right, but not because breakfast wasn’t available.
Chloe and Ariston had indeed gone swimming in the pool after hours and then he’d taken her back to their suite and made love to her until the wee hours of the morning. For the first time ever that Chloe knew about, Ariston had slept through his usual waking hour.
He and Chloe had barely woken in time to disembark the ship on schedule. Not that the staff wouldn’t have made exceptions for the owner of the cruise line, but Ariston wasn’t that kind of boss. He might be a billionaire tycoon and arrogant as all get-out, but he was a decent man.
And Chloe just loved him to death.
“What has you smiling?” Takis asked with his own grin.
She slid a glance at Ariston, who seemed preoccupied with the view, and just shook her head. “Nothing in particular. I’m just happy.”
That had Ariston looking at her, his own expression softened.
Chloe told Takis about the gallery then, gushing over how wonderful a gift it was.
“I was surprised to hear you had decided to open a business rather than go back to school,” Takis observed.
“It just worked out that way.”
“Why? Surely with your divorce settlement …” Takis gave his grandson a look of definite censure. “You could have gone back to school and gotten your degree in fine arts.”
“I thought about it, but I realized I had no desire to go back to that world. I’d changed too much, I think. And while I truly love art, I don’t have the passion as an artist to pursue that career. Nor do I have the talent,” she admitted with self-deprecating honesty.
Both Ariston and Takis made noises as if to disagree and she smiled, but shook her head. “Don’t. You two hung my paintings because I was family, not because of their artistic merit.”
And it had shocked her to discover the watercolors she’d done for the breakfast room still hanging in the house in New York.
“That is not true,” Takis said staunchly.
Ariston gave h
er a look probably meant to intimidate. “Even for family, I would not hang dreck on my walls.”
She just smiled. “I didn’t say they were dreck, just that I don’t have the kind of brilliant talent it takes to be an artist of note. And I don’t mind.” She really, really didn’t. “Accepting that I didn’t mind is when I realized that I’d make a lousy artist. It’s a career that takes deep and abiding passion. Mine was tied up elsewhere.”
“Helping others pursue their dreams of sharing their art with the world,” Ariston guessed.
He was half-right, so she nodded. “Yes. I’m not even sure now that I didn’t attend art school in great part just to get as far away from business as I could. As it turned out, I really enjoyed running my art supply store and gallery.”
It was her turn to look out over the harbor, the Colossus looking like a tiny white speck in the distance. “Providing the means and encouragement for budding artists to pursue their passion and established ones to display it for the world turned out to be more fulfilling than I would have thought possible. I didn’t even mind doing the paperwork.”
“That is a very laudable reason to run a business.” No looks of reproof from Takis toward her.
“Thank you.” She grimaced. “It’s ironic that I ended up exactly where I’d been so determined not to though.”
“Maybe not so much. You refused to be part of Dioletis Industries and that’s what was of real importance to you,” Takis suggested.
Ariston frowned and admitted, “I had thought you would take the divorce settlement and pour it back into the company.”
“I’m sure my father would have been happier if I had.” But Ariston knew now that would not have happened.
Ever.
“Perhaps. Perhaps he has learned his lesson.” Takis’s eyes glowed with a certain satisfaction.
Ariston glared at his grandfather. “You did not tell me you intended anything against Eber’s company.”
“I’m not a doddering old man. Just because I relinquished control of the company to you does not mean I need you approving my actions.”
“I did not say it did.” Affront radiated from Ariston.
Takis looked quite pleased with himself. “I may not run our company any longer, but I still have connections.”
“I know you do.” Now Ariston was sounding as if he wished he’d left the topic alone.
