Yes, he committed to the idea, as he turned the corner towards his home, five miles later. He would hire a detective, he would find out more about what he was dealing with and then, if necessary, he’d explain the situation to Philomena and ask if she’d be willing to be his wife of convenience.
Jane would be, by then, a moot point, because she would have to be. Unlike his father, Zeus intended to take his marriage vows seriously, even if that meant turning his back on a woman who had very quickly become the sum total of what he wanted in his day.
Though she felt exhausted, Jane woke early the next morning. There was a restlessness inside her, a sense of impatience, and despite the way Zeus had worshipped her body the night before, Jane had woken up in the early hours wantingmore.So. Much. More.
Snatches of memories filtered through her mind as she showered, lathering her still-too-sensitive body with a loofah and soap, revelling in the feeling of the water cascading over her head. Afterwards, she contemplated ordering room service—she was also famished—but decided instead to set out on foot and explore more of this city.
To walk.
To burn off her abundance of energy and try to put Zeus out of her mind.
She dressed in a pair of shorts and a singlet top, in preparation for a day that promised to be hot and grabbed a cap on her way out of the hotel room—she had no idea how long she’d be gone for, and her skin had a tendency to fry.
Not two blocks from the hotel, she stopped at a quaint littlekafenio, with white chairs spilling out onto the street. She ordered her usual oat latte and added a toasted flatbread with saganaki, spinach and eggplant. It arrived steaming hot, and she sat down to enjoy it, content to watch the world pass her by.
It was a sense of contentment that didn’t last long.
Last night, in a fog of sensual need, of white-hot lust, she’d thrown herself headlong into the maddening rush of desire. She hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on the consequences nor the complications of what they were doing. But as the sun rose and bathed Athens in a glorious golden hue—a colour that somehow seemed to echo the vagaries of time, imprinting this city’s ancient presence on Jane—she was forced to see what had happened with all the shock that broad daylight could bring.
She bit into the flatbread, the gooey, melted cheese perfectly salty and dribbling a little from the edge. She wiped it absent-mindedly with her finger, focusing on a man across the street who was stacking newspapers into a vending machine.
After that night with Steven, she’d awoken groggy, hungover and sore all over. Muscles she’d never used before had screamed their complaint as she’d pushed out of the unfamiliar bed and looked around, trying desperately to get her bearings. Bruises across her torso, hickeys on her thigh, only very briefly preceded the onslaught of memories. Awful, awful memories. A feeling of having been totally out of control, unable to properly express what she was feeling and what she wanted—for it to stop.
This was different.
This morning Jane had woken with clarity and recollection. She didn’t regret what had happened between her and Zeus, and she wantedmoreof it, and him. But she also needed a clear path forward. A way to do this without betraying her own sense of right and wrong, with regards to her promise to Lottie.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the fragrance of her coffee, wishing that it could somehow, magically, give her the guidance she sought.
Three days ago, she would have sworn that nothing and nobody would ever change what she owed Lottie and what Lottie meant to her. And the same was true this morning, she swore. But entering into an intentionally manipulative flirtation with Zeus Papandreo was so much more complicated now she knew him.
And liked him.
She dropped her head in shame, and her heart began to trot in a rhythm all its own.
Yes, she liked him.
He was nothing like she’d expected. At least, not in the ways that mattered. While he was confident, he wasn’t arrogant. He was proud, but not unreasonably so, and he was so much more courteous and considerate than his reputation foreshadowed.
She took another bite of the sandwich, her features a study in misery.
If she told Lottie what was happening, would Lottie understand and perhaps tell her to come home? And then what? Would she just fly away from Zeus without giving him an explanation? And could she even bear to do that? Did shewantto leave him?
No.
She wanted to stay and explore this to its fullest.
Last night she’d told herself this would be like killing two birds with one stone, only so much happier than killing. She could explore this with Zeus and get Lottie what Lottie wanted, and no one ever had to know how disastrously conflicted she’d felt about it all.
But what about Zeus? What about the business he obviously loved? Could she really live with being an instrument in his losing that? And if not, what did that mean for Lottie? She knew what this meant to her best friend—what it was supposed to mean to both of them.
She groaned, placing the sandwich back on the cardboard tray and gingerly wiping her fingertips together. There was no way to extricate herself from this situation without hurting someone. Lottie or Zeus. Lottie, her best friend of more than a decade, a woman who was more like a sister to her than anything else, clearly should have the biggest stake on her heart. And on her heart, she did. But her obligations? Her conscience?
She picked up her takeaway coffee cup and began to walk, frowning deeply, so she missed the hue of peach and pink that lit the sky as the sun grew higher, missed the purples, too, that reached out like long, magical fingers, directly across the horizon. She walked a long way, down a wide, straight street lined with large, verdant trees. She walked until her body was sheened in perspiration and then pulled her phone out to check the time, only to see several text messages on the front screen.
Lottie’s required her attention first. I miss you! X
Guilt brightened the flush in her cheeks. The next message was from her mother.