The Tycoon's Pregnant Mistress(48)
She smiled and murmured her agreement. They rang off, and she handed the phone back to Stavros. “You and I need to have a conversation about tattling.”
He didn’t bat an eyelash. “I assure you, Miss Jameson, we’ve had such conversations in the past.”
She grinned and then watched as Stavros put a hand to the small earpiece he wore and barked out several orders in Greek.
Within moments a car rolled around the front, and yet another security man got out to open the door for her. Stavros ushered her out of the building and settled her comfortably in the vehicle before he and the other man took seats in the front.
The privacy glass between the front and backseats lowered, and Stavros turned to look at her over his shoulder.
“Where would you like to go, Miss Jameson?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a laugh. “Can you give me a tour of some of the places I used to go?”
He nodded, and they drove onto the busy New York streets.
Their first stop was a small coffee shop a few blocks away from the apartment. It was clear that Stavros hadn’t expected her to want to get out, because when she made the intention known, his lips drew into a disapproving line. Still, he and the other man with him escorted her inside the small café.
It was cozy and brimming with conversation and laughter. It felt inviting, and she could well see herself in a place like this. But it didn’t spark any memories. With a sigh, she turned and told Stavros she was ready to leave.
Next they pulled up to a small market, and she looked at Stavros in surprise.
“You liked to cook for Mr. Anetakis, particularly when he’d been out of the country for an extended period of time. We would come here to shop for the necessary ingredients. Then you’d make me carry back all the sacks,” he added with a small smile.
“Was I so very trying?” she teased.
“It was my pleasure to accompany you on your outings,” Stavros said.
“Why, it sounds like you like me.” She grinned up at the burly man, trying to gain any sort of recognition, some flicker that maybe they’d bantered like this in the past. “Where to next?”
They visited a library and a small art shop, and while she could see herself in those places, she recalled nothing. When the car rolled to a stop in front of a park, for a moment panic quivered in her stomach.
“Are you all right?” Stavros demanded.
She looked up to see him standing at the open door, waiting for her to climb out.
“Maybe we should return now. It’s nearly time for your lunch with Mr. Anetakis.”
“No,” she said as she hastened out of the car. No, she wanted to be here. Needed to be here. Something about this place had caused a tremor in her mind even if it was uncomfortable.
She walked down the pathway and gathered her coat tighter around her. In truth, it wasn’t that cold. The afternoon sun shone warmly, but she felt a chill, one that reached far inside her.
Behind her, Stavros and his second flanked her, and she had the brief thought that she appeared far more important than she was. Her gaze locked on to a stone bench that overlooked a statue, and she moved toward it, not sure why she was so drawn by it.
Marley sat down and spread her hands over the cool stone. She stared ahead and felt a glimmer of sadness. It made no sense, but she knew she had sat here before, and she knew that she had felt fear. Uncertainty.
She raised her hands to cup her face and leaned over, huddled on the bench. It was there, just out of reach, so close she could feel the heavy weight of sadness, of indecision.
A hand touched her shoulder, and Stavros’s concerned voice reached her. “Are you all right? Do I need to call Mr. Anetakis? Perhaps I should take you to the hospital.”
She shook her head and looked up. “No. I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve been here before. I can feel it.”
Stavros nodded, though the concern didn’t leave his eyes. “You often said this was your thinking spot.”
“It would appear I had a lot to think about,” she murmured.
He checked his watch. “Let me call Mr. Anetakis and tell him to meet us at the restaurant. By the time we return to the apartment, you could already be eating.”
She didn’t object when he gently helped her up, and instead of walking just behind her, he held her elbow as they walked back to the car.
“Stavros, please don’t concern Chrysander,” she said as he put her into the car. “He’ll have me back at the apartment in bed.”
“Which is perhaps where you should be,” Stavros said.
She made a face. “You’re seriously no fun. I’m supposed to go shopping. For a wedding dress no less. I can’t very well do that if I’m in bed.”