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Was he in some alternate reality?
In her time on this island, she’d felt nothing but joy. Emmie wasn’t sure why. Was it because, for the first time in her life, she was on vacation? With no responsibilities, no family to cook and clean for, no number-crunching in a basement cubicle or billionaire-wrangling over business schedules?
She didn’t have to serve anyone or rush anywhere. She’d just been able to do whatever she pleased. She’d wandered the village on a whim, exclaiming with delight over everything, from the sweet cat curled up on a sunny windowsill, to the children dragging a kite, to the housewife sweeping her doorway and the old man leading a herd of black-faced sheep down the cobblestones. Emmie was in heaven.
And she’d assumed Theo felt the same. But now, looking back, she realized he’d simply followed her, encouraging her happiness without taking part in it. If anything, Theo seemed to go out of his way to be a stranger in Lyra, never introducing himself, avoiding people’s eyes, as if deliberately acting the part of the rich, arrogant American tourist.
The truth was, though he’d tried to hide it, he’d been tense since they’d arrived here. She should have realized it earlier, when she saw he’d gone for a long run at dawn. It was how he dealt with stress. Exercise—or sex. Which obviously he wasn’t getting.
She swallowed. What was the mysterious errand? “Why don’t you like Lyra?”
His jaw tightened again as he looked away. “It’s unfortunate the yacht-engine repair took longer than expected. A part had to be flown in from Rotterdam. But we’ll be sleeping onboard tonight, I assure you.”
Emmie looked past the small fishing boats to the enormous, modern yacht approaching the harbor and felt strangely let down. “Is that it?”
“Yes. Finally.” Theo hesitated. “As I told you, I have an errand to run later today. It’ll take me a few hours...”
“I’ll come.”
“No.” Then added more gently, “If you’re truly enjoying Lyra, I’m sure you’d prefer to spend your last hours shopping and relaxing, rather than dealing with some dreary errand.”
“But what is it? Does it have to do with your new property in Greece? The one you mentioned at the wedding?”
Theo carefully ate a bite of dry toast then tossed the rest back on the plate. He gave her a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “You’ll be all right for a few hours without me? You won’t be lonely on your own?”
Of course she wouldn’t be all right. What bride would appreciate being abandoned on the second day of her honeymoon, so the groom could disappear on a mysterious errand he refused to discuss?
But friendship went both ways. She wanted to be supportive, not clingy. So she forced herself to smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” His handsome face held no expression as he tossed down his linen napkin. Looking at her downcast face, he relented. “But we have a few hours to enjoy ourselves first. What do you say we go to the beach?”
She brightened. “I’d love that.”
Smiling, Theo tossed a pile of euros on the table, leaving an enormous tip. As they went upstairs to get changed, Emmie hummed a happy song to herself as they climbed the stairs, thrilled at the thought of spending time on the famous white sand beach of a bona fide Greek island.
“This is going to be so fun—” But as she turned back to her husband on the rickety stairs, his handsome face was twisted with so much grief and rage, she caught her breath.
The darkness in his expression was quickly masked as their eyes met. He smoothed his face into a smile. “I certainly hope so.”
And Emmie couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible that this quaint Greek island, which to her seemed so sunny and bright, was a hellhole that Theo couldn’t wait to leave.
From the moment Theo saw the small rocky island of Lyra, he’d known bringing Emmie here was a mistake.
He’d brought the small, wrapped package from the safe of his Manhattan office to do what he’d been delayed from doing last week: watching from a distance as the charred ruin of his past was finally completely destroyed. Then he’d meant to drop the package into the sea, as Sofia had asked.
But there had been complications. The yacht’s faulty engine leaving it docked in Athens. Sofia coming to Lyra after he’d specifically told her to stay in Paris. His wife starting to ask questions.
This wasn’t how Theo had imagined his revenge would be.
Just climbing out of the speedboat onto the dock in Lyra’s small harbor, returning to this place he’d sworn he’d never set foot on again, had caused a physical reaction. Even now, everywhere he looked made his skin crawl with memory, spiders and centipedes of repressed tragedy, little feet of horror whispering up and down his spine.
Walking through the tiny village which Emmie proclaimedcharming, all he could see were the ghosts of the past. He’d seen her startled eyes when he’d called it ahellhole, and he’d known he’d revealed too much, been too honest about his feelings. But anytime he wasn’t in her arms, focused on the long game of his slow seduction, he was on edge.
So far, no one had recognized him. He’d had a different surname then. He’d had so many names as a child. His father’s. Then his mother’s. He’d had three different stepfathers, none of whom had legally adopted him, but his mother always insisted on calling him by each new surname, as if that could bind her new husband to her son, to make them a family. Hopeless. Stupid.
Then it all ended in flames...
The torture of his own memories caused an overlay of pain over every pretty whitewashed building with blue shutters, an invisible shroud suffocating the rocky shoreline and clear blue water.
