Page 67 of The Senator's Wife

Her eyes opened halfway and closed again. “Sloane,” he repeated.

“Hmm. What?” Her eyes were open now.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uh…I…I don’t know. Okay, I guess.”

She looked like hell, he thought. “The doctor is worried. Do you remember what he said?”

“The doctor? What?”

“What he told you today. About your condition.”

Her eyes were clouded with confusion. “The doctor was here today?”

Whit gave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, Sloane. We went to his office this morning. Remember when he called back last night, he insisted on seeing you today? He prescribed a new medication to reduce the inflammation. You don’t remember?”

A tear ran down her cheek, and she turned her head away from him.

“Never mind, sweetheart. We can talk about this later.” He rose from the edge of the bed. “You rest again. I’ll bring your dinner up later.”

He went back downstairs to have a drink before dinner, and saw that Athena was sitting outside on the back terrace. Putting downthe bourbon, he went to the wine rack to pull out a Cabernet and walked outside.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, sitting before she could answer, holding the bottle and two glasses.

“Please do,” she said.

He poured wine into both glasses and handed her one. She closed the folder in her lap and placed it beside her on the bench before accepting the long-stemmed glass.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Work from the foundation?” he asked, looking at the folder.

“Yes. Just a little. Everything seems well under control. There are a few things for you to look at. Nothing urgent.”

“Good.” He held up his glass to hers. “Cheers. To fall evenings.”

Their glasses touched, and he watched her take a small sip.

“Soon it will be too cold to be outside without a heavy coat. We used to live most of our lives outdoors in Greece,” she said, pulling her sweater more tightly around her.

“You must miss it. This is beautiful, but nothing compared to the scenery there.”

She sighed. “Yes, I do. There’s really no place quite like it.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hmm,” she said. “You might be sorry. I could talk all night about Greece.”

“I love hearing you talk. Go on. Talk all night.”

She laughed and took another sip of wine. “Most people on the islands live rather simply. A lot of the houses are modest and unpretentious. From May until October, everyone spends most oftheir time outdoors. I barely ever watched television when I was there. Everything was lived in the moment. Lots of company, what the Greeks callparea.”

“What doespareamean?” Whit asked.

“A group of friends who share life experiences. You’re never lonely there. Everyone is very social. It’s so different from life here.”

“Sounds wonderful. Will you ever return?”

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