Broken Together (53 page)

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Authors: K. S. Ruff

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Inspirational, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Broken Together
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Rafael
scoured the gardens. “How? Surely, someone would have seen him. Could someone
else have delivered these for him?”

My
thumb grazed the groom’s face. “I don’t know. Konstantin and Oni aren’t here. I
suppose he could have given these to the pastry chef or the caterer. If Maxim were
here, he would have stayed and spoken with us.”

Rafael
drew me close. “He may have felt uncomfortable.”

“Maybe,”
I murmured.

For
some reason, that thought weighed heavy on my heart.

*
* * * *

I
pushed up from Rafael’s chest. “Greece? Did Kari just say Greece?”

Rafael
smiled without opening his eyes. “Yes. I’ve rented a villa on Santorini
Island.”

I
opened both of his eyes with my thumbs. “Santorini… as in the Greek Island with
white washed houses; an active volcano; a crater filled with water; and beaches
filled with red, black, and white lava pebbles?” I had just read about this
island in one of the travel magazines at the spa!

Rafael
chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

“Yes!”
I dove for the suitcase Rafael had stashed inside the closet. “That’s awesome.
No. That’s more than awesome. That’s perfect. I’ve always wanted to visit
Greece.”

Rafael
kissed my neck when he joined me. “You should pick a sun dress or shorts. It’s
very warm there.” Thankfully, he had encouraged me to buy a swimsuit and a
couple of summer dresses for our honeymoon. Eva helped me shop for loose
fitting clothes since I wasn’t quite ready for maternity wear.

Another
“ding” sounded over the intercom. “
Kalispera
. This is your pilot,
Captain Anderson. A brilliant blue Aegean Sea and a balmy seventy-four degrees
await us in Santorini. The local time is six-ten p.m. We’ll be landing in
thirty minutes.”

I
pulled a light blue halter dress from the suitcase. The empire waist was
comfortable and helped hide my tummy.

Rafael
tugged on a loose-fitting pair of faded blue jeans before pulling a white t-shirt
over his head.

My
jaw dropped. “You look really sexy.” I’d never seen him in such light colors
before. The tousled hair and the mischievous spark in his eyes didn’t help. We
hadn’t had sex since our tryst in the stables. We were both so exhausted when
we boarded the jet that we went straight to bed and slept, a fact I was now
regretting.

“That
dress matches your eyes perfectly.” He traced the deep V between my breasts.
His fingers dipped beneath the material as he began kissing my neck. “The villa
is less than eight miles from the airport.”

“Thank
God,” I breathed. My body was already pinging with need.

Rafael
kissed my jaw, my chin, and lips before releasing me. He zipped the suitcase
and set it back inside the closet.

I
stepped inside the bathroom to brush my teeth. I freed my hair from the bobby
pins and finger combed the curls before joining Rafael in the main cabin.

Kari
handed me a bottled water. “Please fasten your seatbelt. We’ll be landing
shortly.”

The
wheels touched down twenty minutes later. I remained glued to the window. “How
can the water be so blue? And all those white washed buildings... Oh my God. It’s
so beautiful.”

Rafael
laughed. “We could jump in the water and touch the buildings if only you were
willing to step off the plane.”

A
silver Mercedes convertible sat idling in front of the airport. A man with a
clipboard was leaning against the car. Rafael signed the documents attached to
the clipboard. The man examined Rafael’s driver’s license before handing him an
envelope. He waved politely, then sauntered away.

Rafael
set our luggage in the back seat while I climbed into the car. He slid behind
the wheel, pulled a piece of paper from the envelope, and typed an address into
the GPS. “Ready?”

I
was too busy gawking at everything to reply.

“Mrs.
Garcia,” he murmured silkily.

“Yes?”
My cheeks heated when my nipples pebbled beneath the dress.

“I
really like this dress.” His fingers dipped beneath the hem.

My
legs clenched. “How long does it take to drive eight miles in Santorini?”

“Twenty
minutes according to the GPS.” His hand lingered on my thigh when he pulled
away from the curb.

I
cursed all those needy little hormones wreaking havoc on my girlie parts. “I’ll
never make it that long.”

“Michaela
Residence is not far.” Rafael chuckled. “While there are houses nearby, the
villa is positioned on the hillside in a way that ensures privacy. You can
sunbathe naked if you like.”

I
wondered whether I was capable of such a thing.

“The
villa has a spectacular view of Akrotiri, the volcano, and the Aegean Sea,”
Rafael continued. “I’ve arranged for a personal chef to visit the villa once a
day. He’s already prepared our evening meal and stocked the refrigerator with
items for breakfast and lunch tomorrow. He should be gone by the time we
arrive.”

My
stomach growled at the thought of food. “That sounds wonderful.”

“I’m
a little worried about the volcano,” Rafael admitted. “Santorini experienced a
few small earthquakes recently. The volcano hasn’t erupted since 1950, but
there is some concern it could become active again.”

“I
would have preferred to remain oblivious about that.” I pulled my wind whipped
hair away from my face and tied it into a knot at the base of my neck.

“We’ll
leave if they experience any tremors this week,” Rafael assured me. He shifted
into a lower gear before turning onto a steep, narrow road.

“How?”
I wondered aloud. Brent and Kari were flying back to Portugal so they could
take our friends and family back to the United States. We weren’t expecting
them to return until the end of the week.

Rafael
turned right. The Mercedes hugged the hillside. “I’ve located a helicopter and
a pilot who can fly us to Athens if need be.”

I
breathed a small sigh of relief. “I swear, you think of everything.”

He
flashed a quick smile before studying the GPS.

All
thoughts of earthquakes and volcanoes disappeared when he pulled alongside the
white washed villa that would serve as our home for the next eight days. The
house was sandwiched between a scenic lookout and another white washed house,
but a white privacy fence framed the courtyard on either side.

Rafael
retrieved our luggage before opening my door. “Mrs. Garcia.” He bowed while
offering me his hand.

“Mr.
Garcia.” I placed my hand in his, infinitely more enamored with the man holding
my hand than the villa behind him.

We
walked toward the house hand in hand. Rafael unlocked the door and set the
luggage inside before whisking my legs out from under me. “Technically, this
isn’t our home, but I’m still carrying you over the threshold.”

I
kissed him affectionately while wrapping my arms around his neck. My eyes
widened when I saw the stark white walls, the white washed open beam ceiling,
white couches with thick white throw pillows, and filmy white curtains tied in
knots against the windows and the sliding glass doors. Massive white lanterns
held thick white candles on either side of the sliding glass doors. The blond
wood coffee table and beige floor tile offered the only hint of color, aside
from the artwork. “I’ve never seen so much white in my entire life.”

Rafael
stopped in front of the sliding glass doors. The courtyard held a pool and a
pergola which sat between the pool and a stone wall. Filmy white curtains were tied
at all four corners against stone columns. Three white couches and a white coffee
table sat beneath the pergola. The sapphire blue Aegean Sea sparkled beneath
the evening sun. “Let’s eat outside.” Slowly, he allowed my feet to touch the tile.

“Dinner
smells delicious.” I followed him past a large dining room table. Blond wood
formed the tabletop, but the legs were painted with white milk paint like the
chairs. A large chandelier with white lanterns and clear crystals hung above
the table. A white framed mirror and a massive bouquet of flowers adorned a matching
buffet. The dining room was three parts dreamy, seven parts shabby chic.

A
large galley style kitchen opened into a second, more casual dining room. White
washed cupboards, sandy brown countertops, and modern appliances defined the
kitchen. Rafael reached for the oven mitts.

I
read the slip of paper sitting next to the wine. “Dinner: corn flour bread; a
variety of olives; fresh tomato, onion, and herb salad; grilled
Barbounia
;
fried potatoes; and
Loukoumades
for dessert. For breakfast tomorrow
morning: croissants, ham, salami, cheese, fresh melon, yogurt, and honey. For
lunch tomorrow:
Horiatiki Salata
, hearty wheat bread, and tahini.
Kalí
óreksi
, Chef Loukas.”

Rafael
pulled a platter from the oven. He set it on top of the stove. The platter was
loaded with small red fish and seasoned potatoes. “The oven is still warm, so
we’ll leave dessert in there for now.” He retrieved the bread.

I
peeked inside the oven. “I assume the
Barbounia
is fish, but what kind
of dessert is
Loukoumades
?”

“You
have always been a dessert first kind of girl,” he teased. “
Loukomades
are doughnuts served with cinnamon and honey.”

“Ah.
So that’s why the honey is sitting on the counter.” I retrieved two bottled
waters, the olives, and tomato salad from the refrigerator. “This fresh tomato
salad looks really good.” I wasn’t sure about the fish. I was creeped out by
the fact their heads and eyes were still intact.

Rafael
grabbed the plates, silverware, and cloth napkins from the counter.

I
followed him through the living room and out into the courtyard so we could eat
beneath the pergola. “Look! The sun is starting to set.” The white washed
buildings of Santorini were bathed in orange and pink, but the Aegean Sea
remained a soft blue color, which contrasted nicely against the orange and pink
sky.

He
set the dishes on the coffee table. “That view is breathtaking.”

I
placed the olives and drinks beside the plates so I could wrap my arms around
him. “Thank you for choosing this place.”

Rafael
released the knot from my hair. He lifted my chin and pressed his lips to mine.
He took his time, savoring me like a fine wine. With kiss swollen lips and dreamy
eyes we gazed at one another, husband and wife.

“I
love you so much it hurts.” Tears pricked at my eyes.

“I
know,” he whispered. “I’m afraid my heart will stop beating if you wander too
far.”

We
fell into a timeless embrace. The pain in my chest eased when I felt his heart
beat against mine. Eventually, we retrieved the remaining food. A soft breeze tugged
at the bound curtains. The curtains were so romantic, I released them.

Rafael
lit the candles on the coffee table while I dished food onto our plates. “I
cannot imagine a more peaceful place.”

“This
view reminds me of Saint-Tropez.” I sighed contentedly.

He
sampled the olives while pondering the sea. “We should visit Saint-Tropez
before we return to the United States.”

“I
agree.” A small moan played on my lips when I tried the cherry tomatoes. “You
have to taste the tomato salad. I swear, these are the best tomatoes I’ve ever
eaten.” I speared a tomato and offered him my fork.

He
chewed, thoughtfully. “You’re right. That’s the best tomato I’ve ever eaten.”

I
popped another one inside my mouth. The deep red tomatoes tasted earthy and
sweet. “Would you like some wine?”

“I’d
rather wait and share the wine with you.” He piled a few more tomatoes onto his
plate.

I
nabbed an olive. “Are we taking wine back to Portugal with us?”

Rafael
nodded. “We’ll take the wine the chef selects for us and purchase a few more
bottles before returning to Portugal. That way, we can experience Santorini’s
wines together, after the baby is born.”

I
nestled closer. “That sounds wonderful.”

Quietly,
we enjoyed the main course. The fish was buttery and sweet, although neither of
us could bring himself to eat the head or the tail. By the time we finished eating
the warm cinnamon and honey laced doughnuts, the moon and the stars had
replaced the sun.

The
breeze tugged at the filmy white curtains until they hid the sea. Still, the
moon and the stars shone through the pergola, casting striped shadows across
our bodies.

Rafael
pulled me onto his lap. His fingers clenched my hips when I straddled his
waist. We both groaned when the telltale bulge in his jeans pressed between my
legs. “Wife,” he growled.

His
possessive tone shot through my very core. Desire pooled deep and low while
goose bumps pricked my skin. “Husband,” I answered in an equally possessive
tone.

His
eyes heated when I moved my hips. The muscles in his shoulders bunched while he
removed his shirt. “I need to feel your skin.”

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