“Then let’s not stay.” He took her hand. “Let me show you the island.”
He drew her out of the enormous, luxurious villa, past the gate and out onto unpaved road. Looking around, she saw the rural rolling hills were covered with olive and pomegranate trees, dotted with small whitewashed houses beneath the sun. But there was one thing she didn’t see.
“Where are all the cars? The paved roads?”
“We don’t have cars. Heraklios is too small and mountainous, and there are only a few hundred residents. There are a few cobblestoned streets by the waterfront, but they’re too winding and tight for any car.”
“So how do you get around?”
“Donkey.”
She almost tripped on her own feet. She looked at him incredulously. “You’re joking.”
He grinned. “I managed to put in a helicopter pad, and also a landing strip, at great expense, and it isn’t even usable if the wind is too strong. Here we transport most things by sea.” As they walked closer to an actual village clinging to a rocky cliff, he pointed to a small building on a hill. “That was my school.”
“It looks like one room.”
“It is. After primary school, kids have to take a ferry to a bigger school the next island over.” As they continued walking, he pointed to a small taverna. “That’s where I tasted my first sip of retsina.” His nose wrinkled. “I spit it out. I still don’t like it.”
“And you call yourself a Greek,” she teased. His eyebrow quirked at her challenge.
“I’d take you in and let you taste it, except—” he looked more closely at the closed door “—it looks like old Mr. Papadakis is already up at the villa. Probably setting up drinks.”
“The whole town’s closing—just for our wedding reception?”
“It’s a small island. I don’t think you realize how much pull I have around here.”
Letty slowed when she saw a ruined, lonely-looking villa at the top of the hill, above the village. “What’s that?”
His lips tightened, curled up at the edges. “That was my mother’s house.”
“Oh,” she breathed. She knew his mother had abandoned him at birth. He’d never talked much about her, not even when they were young. “No one lives there anymore?”
“My mother left the island right after I was born, her parents soon after. It seems they couldn’t stand the shame of my existence,” he added lightly.
She flinched, her heart aching. “Oh, Darius.”
“My mother moved to Paris. She died in a car crash when I was around four.” He shrugged. “I heard her parents died a few years ago. I can’t remember where or how.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Why? I didn’t love them. I don’t mourn them.”
“But your mother. Your grandparents…”
“Calla Halkias died in a limousine, married to an aristocrat.” His voice was cold as he looked back to the ghostly ruin on the hill. “Just as I’m sure she would have wanted. The prestigious life her parents expected for her.”
A lump rose in her throat as she thought of Darius as a child on this island, looking up at the imposing villa of the people who’d tossed him out like garbage. She didn’t know what to say, so she held his hand tightly. “Did you ever forgive them?”
“For what?”
“They were your family, and they abandoned you.”
His lips pressed down. “My mother gave birth to me. I’m glad about that. But I wouldn’t call them family. From everything I’ve heard, they were a total disaster. Like…” He hesitated. But she knew.
“Like my family?” she said quietly.
He paused. “Your mother was a great lady. She was always kind. To everyone.”
“Yes,” she said over the lump in her throat.
“My yiayiá raised me. Our house didn’t have electricity or plumbing, but I always knew she loved me. When I finally made my fortune, I had the old shack razed and built a villa in its place. The biggest villa this island has ever seen.” Looking up at the ruin, he gave a grim smile. “When I was young, the Halkias family was the most powerful here. Now I am.”
She noticed he’d never said if he forgave them. She bit her lip. “But, Darius…”
“It’s in the past. I want to live in the present. And shape the future.” Taking both her hands in his own, Darius looked down at her seriously on the dusty road beneath the hot Greek sun. “Promise me, Letty. You’ll always do what’s best for our family.”
“I promise,” she said, meaning it with all her heart.
Lowering his head, he whispered, “And I promise the same.”
He softly kissed her, as if sealing the vow. Drawing back, he searched her gaze. Then he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her in another way entirely.
Feeling the heat of his lips against hers, the rough scrape of the bristles on his chin, she clung to him, lost in her own desire. He was her husband now. Her husband.
He finally pulled away. “Come with me.”
He led her to the end of the dusty road, through the winding cobblestones of the small village of whitewashed houses. On the other side, they went through a scrub brush thicket of olive trees. She held his hand tightly as the branches scraped her arms, and they went down a sharp rocky hill. Then suddenly, they were in a hidden cove on a deserted white sand beach.
Letty’s eyes went wide in amazement. The popular beaches of the Hamptons and even around Fairholme would have been packed on a gloriously warm September day. But this beach was empty. “Where is everyone?”
“I told you. They’re at the villa, getting ready for the party.”
“But—” she gestured helplessly “—there must be tourists, at least?”
He shook his head. “We don’t have a hotel. The tourists are at the resorts up in Corfu. So we all know each other here. Everyone is a friend or relative, or at least a friend of a relative. It’s a community. One big family.”
No wonder this island felt like a world out of time. She felt her heart twist. Turning away, she looked around at the hidden cove with the white sand beach against the blue Ionian Sea and tried to smile. “It’s wonderful.”
“You’re missing Fairholme,” he said quietly.
She looked down at the white sand. “It’s been ten years. It’s stupid. Any psychiatrist would tell me it’s time to let it go.”
“I miss it, too.” He grinned. “Do you remember the beach at Fairholme? Nothing but rocks.”
“Yes, and the flower meadow where you taught me to dance.”
“What about the pond where I tried to catch frogs and you always wanted to give them names and take them home—?”
Suddenly their words were tumbling over each other.
“The brilliant color of the trees in autumn—”
“Roller-skating down the hallways—”
“The secret passageway behind the library where you’d always hide when you were upset—”
“Your mother’s rose garden,” Darius said with a sudden laugh, “where she caught me that time I tried a cigarette.