Bound to the Greek (20 page)

Yet after dinner, when Jace led her upstairs, she didn’t have the strength or even the desire to protest. Eleanor’s heart bumped against her ribs and her fingers tingled where he’d laced them through his, pulling her along gently.

‘Jace—’

‘Is something wrong?’ he murmured, lifting his free hand to brush it against her cheek. Eleanor leaned her face into the cup of his palm as a matter of instinct, a decision of need. She didn’t just want him any more; she needed him. She couldn’t fight this, and she didn’t even want to, not for something so nebulous as a few haunted memories. Didn’t she have those too?

You told them to Jace. He’s keeping them from you.

She pushed the thoughts?and the fears?away and, smiling softly, followed him into the bedroom.

T
HE
next week followed the same pattern. When they weren’t working—Jace on his business and Eleanor on the party—they were enjoying each other’s company, in bed as well as out of it, but Jace still seemed distant to Eleanor, withdrawing more each day. His heart felt hidden, and she didn’t know how to find the true him, the man she thought she loved.

Every question she asked that would make him talk about himself he deflected with a joke or a question back at her, and Eleanor realised how, in all the time she’d known him, he’d never really talked about himself. He’d never been vulnerable, or emotional, or even real, the way she had.

The inequality of it made her feel even more exposed, and terribly uncertain. Perhaps, when these two weeks were over, she would go back to New York and Jace would return to Athens. Perhaps these two weeks were all they were ever meant to have. What had Jace said?
And whatever
this
is, maybe it will go somewhere, and maybe it won’t.
It was so little, Eleanor thought now. So very little, and yet she’d accepted it, fallen into his hand with the ease of a ripe peach. And that was what she felt like: something to be plucked, enjoyed, and then discarded.

With the party only a week away, Eleanor was forced to push aside her own personal concerns for the far more pressing one of the upcoming event. She’d made preliminary orders for food, and booked a band from Naxos, but she
still felt she lacked the key idea that would bring this party together, that would give it both a theme and a heart.

And Jace wasn’t helping at all.

‘Does your father have any favourite foods?’ she asked one afternoon. She’d sought Jace out in his office, and now he barely looked up from his laptop as she waited for his answer. Last night they’d made love?at least it had felt like love?but now Eleanor thought they seemed like strangers.

‘I really don’t know.’

Eleanor sighed impatiently. ‘What about music? Games? Activities? Help me out here, Jace. This is your father’s party.’

Jace looked up, his lips pressed together, his eyes flashing. ‘And, as you can probably see for yourself, I never knew my father very well. We’ve barely talked in fifteen years.’

Eleanor’s mouth dropped open as shock raced icily through her. She’d guessed their relationship was strained, but this? Utterly estranged?

‘Why, Jace? And why on earth are you having the party here if that’s—’

He shrugged, the gesture one of dismissal. ‘If you need details, you can ring my sister Alecia. The party was her idea—she can tell you what you need to know.’

Eleanor bit back the retort that he might have volunteered this information several days ago; she didn’t want to argue. And even though they hadn’t had an argument, precisely, she left the room feeling disgruntled and unhappy and heartsore.

Up in her room she reached for the phone and dialled the number Jace had given her. After a few rings a bright, cheerful voice answered.

‘Kalomesimeri.’

Eleanor scrambled for the basic Greek phrases she’d learned in the last week. Fortunately, most people she’d dealt with had spoken English. She hoped Jace’s sister was the same.
‘Kalomesimeri… Mi la te Anglika?’

‘Yes, I certainly do,’ Alecia replied, her voice warm with laughter. ‘And you sound American.’

‘Yes. My name is Eleanor Langley, and I’m planning your father’s birthday party.’

‘An American planning the party! How original of Jace. And I suppose he’s not being helpful at all, and sent you to me?’

‘That’s it exactly,’ Eleanor said in relief, and Alecia gave a gurgle of laughter.

‘Typical Jace. So busy with his precious work. He wasn’t always like this, you know.’

‘No,’ Eleanor agreed, then realised Alecia would have no idea she had a history with Jace. She didn’t particularly want to share that information, either. ‘No?’ she said again, this time a question.

‘No, he was quite fun in his youth,’ Alecia replied dryly. ‘But I suppose everyone must grow up. What is it you want to know?’

‘I’d love some details about his?your?father. I found some photographs, but—’

‘Oh, yes, I dropped those off ages ago.’

‘Well, what is your father like?’ Eleanor asked. ‘And what kind of party would he like? I’ve been trying and—’

‘Oh, you don’t need anything fancy,’ Alecia assured her. ‘My father grew up on the docks of Piraeus. He was a street rat, and he worked his way up to what he is now. He can’t stand anything ostentatious or ornate… he likes things plain. And he speaks plainly too. He can be a grumpy old bear sometimes, to tell the truth, but I know he loves us all.’

Silently Eleanor wondered if Jace knew that as well. From everything she’d witnessed so far, she doubted it. ‘All right,’ she said slowly, still wondering just what kind of party she could put together.

‘He loves old rembetika music,’ Alecia told her. ‘You know the street music with guitars? He grew up on it, and he’s not ashamed of his past.’

‘Rembetika,’ Eleanor repeated. She reached for her notebook.

‘But, you know, the main reason for the party is for us to be all together as a family,’ Alecia continued, her voice turning serious. ‘We haven’t been together properly in years? one of my sisters is usually off having a baby, or Jace can’t make it because of work. Having everyone together will be the most important thing about the party?that’s what really matters.’

‘I see,’ Eleanor said. She wondered how Alecia could speak about her father in such a warm, loving way when Jace’s experience was obviously so different.

‘Of course, you must have tarama salata?fish-roe salad?and loukomia, a kind of jellied sweet. They are his favourites.’

‘Tarama, loukomia,’ Eleanor repeated, scribbling madly. ‘Thank you.’

Armed with this new information, she set about arranging orders, finding a provider of the aforementioned food, and ringing up the band in Naxos to ask if they played rembetika. She still felt utterly out of her depth, and, combined with the sudden alienation she felt from Jace, it made her feel more like a lonely stranger than ever.

‘How’s it going?’ Jace asked that evening as Eleanor pored over her notes spread across the kitchen table. Jace had skipped dinner, claiming work, and Eleanor had eaten with Agathe. She’d barely seen him all day, and now the moon was high in the sky, casting its lambent light across the smooth surface of the sea.

‘Fine,’ Eleanor replied a bit shortly. ‘Your sister had some good information.’

‘Good.’ They both fell silent, the tension tautening between them. Eleanor turned back to her notes. ‘Come to bed,’ Jace said finally, his voice a lazy murmur.

She looked up, saw Jace’s sleepy smile, and knew he wanted to solve everything with sex. And it would be so
easy to say yes; God only knew, her body wanted to. She felt longing uncoil sinuously within her as Jace stretched out his hand.

‘No, Jace.’ He stilled, wary, and Eleanor shook her head. ‘I… I need to work for a little while longer. The party is in just a few days.’

‘Fine.’ He dropped his hand, and Eleanor saw a new coolness creep into his eyes, harden the planes and angles of his face. Without another word he turned and left the room.

An hour later she came to her own bed, not Jace’s, and crept into it alone. Half of her wanted to find Jace, or have him find her, yet she knew neither would solve what was—and wasn’t?between them. She needed more than what they found together in bed, good as that was. She needed honesty, yet she was too much of a coward to ask for it.

The next morning when Eleanor came into the kitchen Jace was already there. In a business suit. His briefcase rested against the leg of his chair. Eleanor’s stomach plunged icily, right down to her toes. Jace looked up from the newspaper he’d been scanning.

‘Good morning.’

‘Are you leaving?’ Eleanor blurted, hating how afraid she sounded.

‘I need to go to Athens for a short business trip,’ Jace replied smoothly. ‘I’ll be back for the party.’

‘For the
party?
You’re leaving me here until the party?’ She hadn’t expected
that.
She hadn’t expected Jace to run away again.

‘I’ll be back before the party,’ Jace explained, and Eleanor heard a bite of impatience in his voice. ‘Surely you don’t need me to help plan it? I wasn’t being much help, as far as I could tell.’

‘No, you weren’t,’ Eleanor agreed, sitting opposite him. She reached for the coffee pot, then pulled her hand back. Her fingers were trembling, and she didn’t trust herself to hold it. She didn’t trust herself at all. ‘But I didn’t expect you
to
leave
?’ Her voice caught, and she swallowed. ‘What’s going on, Jace?’

He didn’t answer for a moment. Eleanor looked up at him, saw his expression was guarded, wary. ‘Nothing,’ he finally said. ‘I told you, I have some business to attend to. I’ll try to wrap it up as quickly as I can.’ He turned back to his newspaper, conversation clearly over.

Frustration, disappointment, and fear all warred within her, bubbling up. ‘And when you come back?’ Eleanor asked evenly. ‘What’s going to happen then, Jace? Just what is between us?’

He looked up from his paper. ‘I know there are things that need explaining between us,’ he said slowly. ‘We’re both still figuring out what’s going on—and what we want.’

Eleanor nodded jerkily. It all sounded so nebulous, so nothing. ‘And?’

‘And I think we can have that conversation when I return,’ Jace finished. ‘When the party is over, and we’re both more relaxed.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I have an eleven o’clock meeting this morning. I should go.’ He rose from the table, and Eleanor just watched him numbly. She could hardly believe he was going, that he was leaving her here alone.

‘Eleanor,’ Jace said quietly. He reached out and gently—so gently?touched her cheek. ‘This isn’t the end.’ Before Eleanor could respond or even process that statement, he’d picked up his briefcase and was gone.

As she heard the front door open and then click softly but firmly shut she realised she didn’t believe what Jace had said. This certainly
felt
like the end.

There had been no real reason to go to Athens. Jace knew that, and the knowledge ate at him as he flew across the Aegean Sea, azure blue flooding his senses from both above and below. He was running away… again.

Yet he couldn’t stay with Eleanor, couldn’t bring himself
to give her what she needed?honesty, trust,
love
?until he had figured out what he was going to do. If anything was possible.

If
they
were possible.

Yet if he’d thought he might clear his head away from the island and Eleanor, he was completely mistaken. The doubts and fear seethed through his mind, tormenting him here just as they had at the villa.

I’ll disappoint her. I won’t be enough. She’ll hurt me.

Wasn’t that what he was afraid of? Hurt? Opening himself up to the pain and beauty of love? He was a coward, a frightened little boy.
Life
was pain. Life was hope.

And, burying himself in work, he’d avoided truly living for far too long.

His intercom buzzed, startling him from his thoughts.

‘Alecia is here,’ his assistant said, and Jace sighed wearily.

‘Send her up.’

‘I heard you were in Athens,’ Alecia said as she breezed into the room, airily trailing shopping bags. Jace stifled a groan. He loved his sister, but he didn’t particularly feel like seeing her now. Alecia was far too astute.

‘How did you hear that?’

‘I rang that American party planner of yours and she told me,’ Alecia said as she sprawled in the chair across from Jace’s desk. ‘She sounded terribly gloomy, Jace. Are you sure she can pull off this party?’

‘Absolutely.’

Alecia’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. ‘You have quite a lot of faith in her, don’t you? Where did you meet this paragon?’

‘She planned a party for me in New York,’ Jace replied, shuffling some papers on his desk. He could feel his cheeks warm, damn it.

‘New York…’ Alecia repeated thoughtfully. ‘And I
did
say you’ve been so grumpy since you came back from there…’

‘Whatever it is you’re thinking, Alecia—’

‘It is a woman, isn’t it? It’s this—Eleanor. Another American.’ She shook her head, even though she was smiling gleefully. ‘Well, I hope she treats you better than—’

‘Don’t.’

‘Oh, Jace.’ Alecia leaned forward. ‘You know we’re the last holdouts for marriage and babies and all that. I’d love to find Mr Right, of course I would, but sometimes I think I’d rather you found your Princess Charming.’

Jace’s mouth twitched. ‘I didn’t know there was such a person.’

‘You know what I mean. It’s not good to be alone. And I’d love to see you settled with a wife and babies?a little girl with your eyes—’

Pain pierced Jace’s shell, the armour he’d been building around his heart. He’d had a daughter. Maybe she’d had his eyes. He’d never know. ‘I don’t know if that’s in store for me, Alecia,’ he said quietly. Even if it was possible.

‘Why not? Why shouldn’t you have a family of your own, a family to love?’

A family. The word caught Jace by surprise, on the raw. He felt his thoughts tumble and slide, for ever shift. A family. Not a child, an heir, a dynasty. Not a thing to be obtained, a possession, a means to an end, the way his father had seen a son, a grandson.