Chapter 17
Emma bailed off the bike the instant it stopped. She ripped her helmet off and left teetering on the seat in her wake. She was through the door before Nikos even got the kickstand down. Practically running, she made a beeline for her room, and for the first time since she had gotten to the villa, locked the door behind her. She pulled her backpack out of the closet and had it halfway stuffed before she forced herself to stop. What am I doing, she thought. Am I really going to leave all of this, leave Nikos, because two guys on the street resembled some monsters in my past?
In the end, Emma put the pack back in her closet but left it stuffed. The urge to run coursed through her. It made her edgy and restless. She avoided the family, pleading a stomachache. After walking laps around her room all evening, she slipped on her bikini and headed out her French doors to the pool.
Nikos prowled around the library. He alternated between worry and anger and impatience as he paced and thought about Emma and her behavior. His bad temper had spilled over on Gretchen and Abigail. Before he could make it worse, he apologized and excused himself for the evening. Fuck this, he thought and wrenched open the door. She is going to talk to me, like it or not.
His knock went unanswered, and he frowned when he found her bedroom door locked. Quickly, he went to his room and used his nightly route from patio to patio. The French doors to her room stood open, and Nikos’ stomach sank. She’s gone, he thought, like a thief in the night.
Nikos walked into the empty room. His gut tied itself in knots worrying, and anger burned in his heart at her for just leaving without a word of explanation. Half hoping for a note, he glanced around. The closet door stood ajar. He pulled it open, and his heart squeezed with relief and confusion. Her backpack stood, fully packed in the corner. She’s still here, but ready to run, he thought. A bigger question followed that- where is she now?
He considered as he closed the closet door back to how it had been. The library was obviously out, and that would have been the first place he looked. He decided that she wasn’t inside the house and set out to explore the grounds. He checked the gazebo and patios. Finally, he saw her floating in the pool.
Nikos’ heart raced with dread. She wasn’t moving. “Emma,” he shouted as he ran toward the pool. He skidded to a stop as he got closer, seeing she was actually floating peacefully on her back, eyes closed, arms and legs outstretched. Her hair floated out around her head, and Nikos could see that her ears were underwater. He tried to slow his racing heart and control his breathing. He cursed quietly in Greek, beginning to appreciate the beauty of the moment.
Emma floated in dark stillness. She loved the sensory deprivation of no sound, no light, just peace. She had learned meditation traveling with a group of hikers on the Camino de Santiago trail in Spain. Among predominantly Catholic pilgrims, many faiths, cultures, and spiritual paths were also represented among the dusty travelers. She had gained a new perspective on faith and repaired part of a ragged hole in her psyche on the journey thanks to the teachings of a patient, kind man who shared his knowledge and part of his soul with her.
Floating in the pool, Emma pulled back to that small, still place deep inside her that she had discovered on that journey. The events of the day had unleashed a maelstrom of emotions. The fractured parts of her heart and soul had started to fly apart, reminding her how fragile her peace really was. She focused on finding her center and let her body and mind drift.
Nikos sat in a deck chair and silently watched her. The urge to hold her close to him and protect her from whatever it was that haunted her was almost overpowering. He didn’t want to disturb her, though, and forced himself to just sit and watch over her.
She was perfect floating still in the water. Her skin had lost some of its tans since she had been staying at the villa. Her white bikini revealed her flat stomach that Nikos knew felt soft and smooth under his touch. Her skin was baby soft, and his hands flexed with the thought of touching it. He saw her nipples tight and firm under the white fabric. Her breasts stood like two peaks above the water. He tormented himself with the thought of how they felt in his hand and how she gasped when his lips clamped around her taut nipple.
His body responded to his thoughts. His dick throbbed and thickened as he thought of how it felt to slide inside her. His hands clenched the arms of the chair while he wrestled with his thoughts and desires. He wanted her, now. He should respect her peace and quiet. But he needed to feel her, to hold her, to make her his.