The Greek's Tiny Miracle. Rebecca Winters

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      “Yes.”

      Stephanie’s pulse raced. “Do you know the Vassalos family?”

      “Who doesn’t! That’s one of their boats.” She pointed to a beautiful white boat, probably forty-five to fifty feet long, docked in the marina. “Why do you ask?”

      “It’s their son I came to see.”

      “They have two sons. One works here. The other I never see. He’s always away.”

      Did that mean he was always doing family business elsewhere?

      Unable to sit there after that news, Stephanie got to her feet. Maybe all wasn’t lost yet. “It’s been very nice talking to you. Keep the grapes. I think I’ll take a walk until the boat gets here.”

      Without wasting another second, she headed in the direction of the moored craft. Maybe one of the crew would tell her where she could reach Dev. She’d come this far....

      Closer now, she realized it was a small state-of-the-art recreational yacht, the luxurious kind she occasionally spotted in Florida waters, but she saw no one around. After walking alongside, she called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?” But there was no answer.

      Upon further inspection she took in the outdoor lounge with recliners and a sun bed. Beyond it was the transom, with water skis, a rope and scuba gear. The sight of the equipment brought back piercingly sweet pain.

      She stepped closer and called out again. Still no answer. Since the boat that would take her back to Chios wasn’t in sight yet, she decided to wait a few more minutes for someone to come.

      Praying she wouldn’t get caught, she sat down facing the open sea and hooked her arms around her upraised knees. Before long she spotted the boat in the distance, headed toward the harbor.

      Time to go.

      Her spirits reached rock bottom because she’d come to the end of her journey. With her head down, she retraced her steps along the pier. “Oh—” Stephanie cried out in surprise as a hard male body collided with hers. She felt a strong pair of hands catch her by the upper arms to prevent her from falling.

      Through the wispy cotton of her white blouson top the grip felt familiar. But when she lifted her head, nothing was familiar about the narrowed pair of glittering black eyes staring into hers as if she were an alien being.

      “Dev—”

      It was him, but he was so changed and forbidding, she couldn’t comprehend it. He released her as if she’d scorched him, and kept walking.

      “Dev!” she called in utter bewilderment. “Why won’t you even say hello? What’s happened to you?”

      He continued walking, not fast or slow, never turning around.

      She thought she’d been in pain when she’d opened the box of gardenias to discover he’d gone, but this pain reached the marrow of her bones.

      Let him go, Stephanie. Let it all go.

      Turning away from him, she kept walking, and had almost reached the beach area when he called to her in his deep voice. “Stephanie? Come back.”

      She looked over her shoulder at him. “When you left the Caribbean so fast, I worried you were ill or even dying, but obviously you’re fine. Don’t worry. I’m leaving and won’t venture near again.”

      “Come back, or I’ll be forced to come after you.”

      She heard the authority in his voice that left her in no doubt he’d do exactly that. With her heart thudding, she started toward him. By the time she reached him, her khaki-clad legs would have buckled if he hadn’t helped her onto the nearest padded bench aboard the yacht.

      The last time she’d seen him he’d been in his bathing suit after their dive. His eyes had smoldered with desire as he’d kissed her passionately, before they’d parted to get ready for dinner. He’d told her to hurry, then had pressed another long, hot kiss to her mouth. Neither of them could bear to be separated.

      Or so she’d thought.

      This brooding version of Dev looked formidably gorgeous. He was wearing white cargo pants and a gray crew-necked T-shirt. His black wavy hair had grown longer, setting off the deep bronze of his complexion. With his height and fit physique, he bore the aura of a man in command, just as she and the girls had supposed. But he’d lost weight.

      He lounged against the side of the boat, his hands curled around the edge, his long legs extended. Legs he’d wrapped possessively around hers, whether under the water or in bed. But there was a gauntness to his handsome, chiseled features that suggested great sorrow or illness. She’d been right about two things: he’d left the Caribbean on some kind of emergency, and was a native Greek down to every black hair on his head.

      “I heard you showed up at the shipping office, but I never dreamed I’d find you outside the Diomedes. What are you doing here?”

      Stephanie could hardly fathom the frigidity of his words. “I told you. After what we shared, you left so fast without an explanation I could live with, I feared something terrible must have happened to you. I—I needed to see for myself,” she stammered.

      “I thought the card I left with the flowers summed things up.”

      “It did, but I guess I’m a hard case.”

      She heard his sharp intake of breath. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”

      “I came to Greece to find you, and was told you were away on business indefinitely. The man at the desk didn’t give me any additional information, so I was trying to find someone on this yacht who might tell me where you were. But no one was about.”

      “Evidently that didn’t stop you from waiting around.” He spoke in a low wintry tone so unlike him she shivered in fresh pain. “In your desperation, I’m surprised you didn’t come to Egnoussa much sooner.”

      Her desperation? What on earth was wrong? How could he have changed into a completely different person? He might not like seeing her again, but his demeanor bordered on loathing.

      Though terrified at the thought he might be seriously ill, and stung by his hostile behavior, Stephanie still held her ground. “I would have been here the next day if I’d known where you lived. But the note you put with the gardenias didn’t tell me where I could find you.”

      “How remiss of me.” Coupled with his sarcasm was an icy smile, devastating her further. “Still, with the help you were given, you managed to track me down easily enough.”

      “If you’re talking about God’s help, you’re right.”

      Evidently he didn’t like her response, because he straightened to his full height. “Even knowing you as I thought I did, I have to admit I’m surprised you’d use that excuse to cover who you really are.”

      “Who I really am?” Despite being stymied, she lifted her chin proudly. “Then we’re on even footing, because I don’t know who you are either. The man I met in the Caribbean was named Dev Harris, an international exporter from New York СКАЧАТЬ