Her Greek Doctor's Proposal (20 page)

L
AUREL FOUGHT DOWN
her rising fear as the three of them searched for Cassie and Petros. It was nearly impossible for Laurel to keep up with Andros as he strode down streets and narrow alleyways, shining his flashlight into garden plots and patches of forest, calling the children’s names in a voice loud enough to carry a long way through the inky night. Kastorini might be fairly small, but in the dark one house looked pretty much like another, so she tried to stick as close to him as she could. Last thing he needed was to worry about her being lost too.

“Let’s check the schoolyard,” Andros said in a controlled but obviously tense voice. “They both like to play there.”

“But they’ve never tried to go alone, even during the day,” Taryn said, sounding breathless and near tears. “I can’t believe they’d go that far at night.”

The terror in Taryn’s voice clutched at Lauren’s
heart and brought back the frightening memory of her sister being missing, just a few months after her mom and dad had died. Helen had ridden her bike to a friend’s house and hadn’t come home for dinner. Laurel still remembered the icy panic she’d felt when she’d called and found Helen had left the friend’s nearly an hour earlier.

She’d jumped into her car and driven up and down the streets Helen would have ridden on, but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Her chest had filled with an unbearable fear as questions swirled in her head. Had Helen been abducted? Had she done something crazy in her grief over their parents? How could she have gotten lost? Laurel remembered nearly weeping in relief when it had turned out her sweet baby sister had just gotten a flat tire on her bike and decided to take a shortcut when she walked it home.

It had been the first moment, one of many to come, that Laurel had doubted she was capable of taking on the care and guidance of her sisters full-time.

“We’ve looked close to home,” Andros said. “We need to think of where they like to go, what they might be thinking.”

A number of neighbors had joined the hunt, spreading out through the town. “Cassie was excited telling me about fishing with you and
Laurel,” Taryn said. “Surely they wouldn’t go to the boat.”

Andros swung around to look at his sister, a low curse on his breath. “Neither of them can really swim. Come on.”

They switched direction. Laurel thought they were heading to the stone steps down to the water and could hear the rising anxiety in both their voices. Could feel it in her own heart. An olive branch snagged her hair, and she had to stop to pull it loose. Then stared at the tree, an overwhelming conviction smacking straight between her eyes.

“The fairies!” she called out to Andros and Taryn as she hurried to catch up. “You know Cassie and Petros have been obsessed with fairies and monsters. Remember when I told her they liked olive wood, and she asked if I thought they lived in the olive groves? They both asked me about it again and if monsters might live there too.”

Andros stopped and stared at her, his eyes glittering through the blackness of the night. He yanked out his phone and dialed. “Georgo, check to see if they might have gone to my boat on the water. We’re going to the east olive groves.” He hung up the call. “This way, Laurel.” He grabbed her hand, and they backtracked up the steps and
onto a dirt path. “You just might be right, and I hope to God you are.”

After a five-minute near run to the grove, and another twenty minutes searching and calling, Laurel began to despair. She nearly blurted out the question she kept wondering, which was how long would it take to find them in the midst of thousands of trees? And how much time were they wasting if the kids weren’t here?

But she managed to bite her lip, nearly drawing blood. Last thing Andros and Taryn needed was for her to pile on more doubt and fear with a stupid and obvious comment.

Andros came to such an abrupt stop, she nearly bumped into his back.

“What?” Taryn asked with wide eyes. “Do you—?”

He held up his hand. “Shh. I thought I heard them answer.” He cupped his hands around his mouth, bellowing out to them, and Laurel’s heart nearly stopped when she heard what might have been an answering cry.

“Petros!” Taryn nearly screamed her son’s name and took off running through the trees, Andros moving in the same direction but veering more to the left. Laurel realized it made sense to spread out some and went in the other direction, trying to search for the kids with the flashlight,
somehow watching where she was going at the same time.

Her entire heart felt lodged inside her throat as she called to them. Her ears strained to hear something, anything, and suddenly the small voices were in front of her. “Cassie! Petros!”

“Laurel!” The little girl sounded terrified.

“Oh, my God, Cassie, where are you?” She swung the flashlight through the trees, the light picking up eerie shadows she kept thinking were the children, and suddenly they were there. They rushed into the beam of light, both children grabbing her legs and crying.

“I thought I heard my mommy,” Petros sobbed. “I thought I heard her and Uncle Andros.”

“They’re here. They’re both here. You’re fine. You’re safe.” She crouched down and hugged them against her, tears clogging her throat. She swallowed them down so she could let Andros and Taryn know she had them.

“Here! Over here!”

A dark shaped loomed out of the darkness. Andros. He swung both children into his arms, kissing their cheeks, then pressed his face against Cassie’s hair. “You both scared us to death. Don’t ever, ever leave the house without telling us. You hear me?”

Both nodded, and Cassie snaked her arms around his neck in what looked like a stranglehold.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. Laurel told us there were fairies in the olive trees. But then it got dark and we didn’t know how to get home.”

The little sob in her voice stabbed straight into Laurel’s heart and she took a step back, her hands clutching at her chest as Taryn ran up to hold Petros.

This was all her fault. Why hadn’t she realized she shouldn’t say something like that to a small child? She’d always known she hadn’t truly been up to the task of raising her sisters. So how could she have just been thinking there might be a time she’d like to come back to Kastorini? To see if this something between her and Andros could blossom into something more? To mother this beautiful child?

“I have to leave,” she said as she turned away, her heart feeling shredded from the anxiety of the past hour. From guilt and misery at her own inadequacy. She wasn’t sure if she’d said it to herself or Andros or the fairies in the olive grove, but she now knew without a doubt she had to go.

* * *

Laurel rested her hand on the windowsill in Andros’s living room, staring out at the night. Wishing she could see the charming homes with their terracotta roofs and tumble of vibrant flowers, the crooked little streets, the cats sitting grooming themselves by doors so colorful and
intriguing they could have been from a story, making her want to walk through and read the next chapter.

But it was probably just as well the darkness shrouded it all. She’d be leaving in the morning, and the look and feel of this town was etched forever in her mind and heart anyway.

She heard the stairs creak but didn’t turn. Sensed rather than heard Andros coming to stand behind her. His hands resting on her shoulders were warm and heavy. Adding to the weight she already felt there.

“She’s sound asleep. I guess an adventure and scare like that takes it out of a little girl.”

And big ones, too. “I’m willing to bet she and Petros stick close to home from now on.” She turned, swallowing down the tears that formed in her throat again. “I’m so sorry I thoughtlessly talked about the fairies living in the olive groves. This was all my fault.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “You couldn’t have known they’d get it in their heads to go there.”

“I have three sisters. I watched them a lot when they were little. And after I took on their care full-time, I learned the hard way to be careful what I said. To think before I spoke when they talked about boyfriend crises and school dramas
and plans to move to the Amazon jungle alone to study indigenous peoples.”

“Laurel. Every parent does or says things they later wish they hadn’t.”

“I’m not a parent. Not anymore. And I can’t be. I just finished that role, and I wasn’t very good at it. I…I have a plan for my life, and I need to get started on that plan.” A plan that, just hours earlier, she hadn’t been 100 percent certain she wanted so very much anymore.

His gaze seemed to search her face for a long time before he finally nodded, tugging her closer to press the gentlest of kisses on each of her cheeks before fully pulling her into his arms and simply holding her. She wrapped her arms around his back and breathed him in, wanting to imprint his scent and the feel of his body on hers one last time.

She tilted her head up to look at him, touching his face, wanting to also imprint every beautiful feature of his face in her memories. Though she didn’t really need to do that, as she’d committed it to memory weeks ago. It seemed perhaps he was doing the same, as he looked at her for long moments before he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

Soft and sweet, the kiss was also filled with a melancholy, then with a growing heat until Andros pulled back and set her away from him.
His chest lifted with a deep breath before he spoke. “You need me to do anything for you before you leave?”

There was only one thing that came to mind. “Yes.” She stepped close again and wrapped her arms around his neck, but he grasped her forearms before she could kiss him.

“Laurel. We shouldn’t. You mean more to me than a night of sex before you’re out of my life forever. That’s not who I am anymore, and it will just make saying goodbye even harder.”

“Maybe it will. But you mean more to me too.” She stroked his cheek, cupped it in her hand. “I don’t think it would be wrong for two people who care about one another to make love before they say goodbye, do you?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t.” He pressed his lips to her palm, lingered there. “Maybe the truth is I’m just trying to keep my heart intact here. But one thing I do know is that being with you one more time would be worth a few more bruises tomorrow.”

The small smile he gave her added to the pain and pleasure swirling around her heart. “I agree.” She tugged his head down to her and kissed him. Long and slow and with a building passion that weakened her knees.

He drew back. “Cassie almost never gets out of bed, but in case she has a nightmare or something we should go to my room. Come on.”

He grasped her hand and led her to his bedroom. A comfortable-looking masculine space she’d peeked into but hadn’t been inside. He shut and locked the door behind them. Holding her gaze, he gently tugged her hair loose from her ponytail. His fingers slowly stroked down the length of it, then he touched her forehead, her cheekbones, and chin with his fingertips as well. Much the same way she’d touched the Artemis statue, with a reverence on his face that made her ache. He finally reached for the buttons of her blouse, and with each one he flicked open, her breath grew shallower, her anticipation ratcheted higher.

“You are so beautiful, Laurel.” He slipped the blouse from her shoulders, ran his fingertips across the lace of her bra until she shivered.

“As are you.” She tunneled her hands beneath his shirt, loving the way his muscles tightened at her touch. Stroked her palms through the soft hair on his chest until impatience got the better of her and, with his help, she yanked it over his head and off. She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her lips to his warmth, and he seemed suddenly impatient as well, flicking off her bra and quickly undoing her pants, shoving them down and off, along with her panties, in one swift movement.

She wasn’t sure how he managed to kiss her
breathless, shuck his own pants and settle them onto the bed in a matter of moments, but it didn’t matter. His lips caressed her throat, her collarbone, her breasts. His fingers moved over her skin and teased her everywhere, and she closed her eyes to soak in the delicious sensations one last time. And when the pressure built until it was nearly unbearable, he finally joined her. Twined his fingers with hers, palms pressed together, eyes meeting in a deep connection that went far beyond the physical one they were sharing.

“Laurel. Laurel.” He whispered her name as he took her further, higher, and his name was on her lips when they fell.

L
AUREL SAT IN
the university’s office for the archaeology school and stared at the letter in her hand, waiting to feel the jubilation that should have her jumping up and down. The letter announcing that her grant application had been approved, and the dig she’d planned in Turkey could begin as soon as she had the equipment scheduled, accommodations booked and a crew pulled together.

Her gaze slid to the sturdy cardboard envelope lying on her desk that held her doctorate diploma, and while she was proud of it, she didn’t feel the elation she knew she should feel by having completed both those accomplishments in the past month.

And she knew why. Making love with Andros had felt so bittersweet, leaving her with even more memories of him that now filled her with more sadness than pleasure. He’d been right when he’d said it would just make it harder to say
goodbye.
Had
made saying goodbye harder, or would have if she’d stayed long enough to say it.

Hours of tender kisses and lying quietly together, arms and legs entwined, had left her with too many emotions tangled up as well. And when she’d finally slipped away to the guest room so Cassie wouldn’t wake up to them in bed together, she’d been unable to sleep. Thinking of leaving in a few hours, and saying goodbye to Kastorini. To everyone she’d become fond of. To Andros and Cassie, whom she’d become far more than fond of.

So she’d left, slipping out of the door and driving to the airport before dawn. Leaving a note had seemed like the best kind of closure, but now she realized it had been cowardly. She’d wanted to avoid the pain of those farewells, but the only thing that had accomplished was to leave her with a deep ache. Without a sense of closure after all.