When I turned back, I offered a shaky smile. “Anyway. She’d been better. And I guess I forgot that wasn’t who she was most of the time.”
“That sounds terrible.” His tone was sincere and tender. “I’m sure you’re doing the best that you can with her. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Even after knowing him for only five minutes, I was positive this was the closest the man came to an apology.
It moved me.
I nodded, afraid to say anything else.
Reeve pushed his plate out of the way and stood. I hadn’t eaten much but was more than happy to stop. I stood as well, following him to the stone bench near the fire pit. We could sit right next to each other here, but I left a space between us when I sat, not sure if closer was necessary. It was completely dark now except for the few lights that hung around the patio and the blaze from the pit. The ambiance was beautiful, romantic even. Maybe a little eerie as well, but strangely, I was finally feeling at ease.
I pretended to be lost in watching the flames flicker and spurt until the waiters finished clearing our dinner plates. When they were gone again, I turned the tables on Reeve. “What about you? Were you close to your parents before they died?”
He hesitated, and I wondered if his reluctance was because of the subject matter or because he didn’t like to be in the hot seat. Finally he answered, “Yes. I was.”
“You were sixteen, right?”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who knows how to Google.”
I avoided the comment. “So you were a kid, basically, with a huge empire. That must have been overwhelming.”
He pinned me with his eyes. “Emily, I’m not someone who is easily overwhelmed.”
It was a warning. Yet I ignored it. “Even as a teenager? You don’t have to fake bravado for me. I’m impressed whether you were strong and stoic or sad and over-your-head.”
He held the silence for a moment then let out a sigh. “I was a little bit of all of it. But I’d been trained for the hotels. My father was a lot older than my mother and was a workaholic. He had already had one heart attack. I knew this would be my future, sooner rather than later. And it helped that I didn’t inherit everything right away. The board ran the company until I was twenty-one.”
“What did you do with the time in between?” These answers weren’t ones I needed. I’d asked mostly because I wanted him to feel comfortable telling me things. But also because I was shockingly genuinely interested.
“Lived with my grandparents in Greece.” He noticed my surprise. “I’m guessing your Internet searching didn’t tell you that.”
I shook my head.
“It’s not widely known. My mother’s family is… well, complicated. So I don’t speak about them often because the media will undoubtedly twist it and make of it what they will. And frankly, I don’t think it’s anyone’s business but my own.” He paused and I thought he might not say any more on the subject, including me in the people whose business it wasn’t.
He surprised me. “I lived there until I was eighteen and then came back to the States for college.”
“Stanford, right?” I waited for him to nod. “And your grandparents – are you close to them?”
“Nope. My grandfather died a few years back. And I haven’t seen my grandmother since I left. Though I do send her a card every year on her birthday.”
“A thin piece of mail is no substitute for a grandson’s love,” I teased, or challenged, rather.
Reeve glared, but a smirk played on his lips. “No, it’s not. But since her parting words to me were, ‘If you leave, don’t ever come back,’ I feel like a card is more than expected. Or deserved.”
I took that in. “It sounds like there’s more of a story there.”
“There is.” He stood and moved to lean on the concrete edging of the pit, facing me. “But I’m not willing to tell it.”
I sat back on my hands and studied him. I wondered if under different circumstances he would be the kind of guy I could like. The kind that I could truly care for. The kind of guy that would destroy me.
More importantly, was he the kind of guy Amber could like? Or had he really been just another one of her sugar daddies? And if so, what exactly had Reeve gotten out of the exchange?
“What are you thinking?”
I didn’t even blink. “That you certainly know how to be intriguing. I’m guessing you’re also intriguing in fluent Greek.”
“Intriguing in Greek,” he said, amusement lining his words. “I speak the language, yes.”
“Say something for me.”
“Another time.” He swept a heated gaze over me. “You know what’s intriguing?”
Yes. This. I liked this. Liked how his stare felt coarse and predatory.
I played coy. “What? Me?”
“Very.” There was the expression again, his eyes meeting mine, intruding into me, into places deep and sacred and delicate. Places I’d filled so compactly with secrets and memories and Amber that they felt crowded with him there too.
And when he looked at me like that, I had an unexplainable urge to make room for him. For only him.
My instinct was to look away, but I forced myself to bear it. And then I noticed he was struggling too. My breath grew fast and shallow. “No way. I’m boring, mostly.” But there was nothing boring about this. Nothing dull about the shine between us. It was strong and hot like a wire that only became live when we both held an end.