BRIGIT SLIPPED ON HER SUNGLASSES and ran down the stone steps of the villa. She remembered when she first saw Nathaniel and Robbie in the garden and shuddered.
Instead of hiding in the rosebushes she should have confronted him and sent him away. She should have told Blake she didn’t care if they had to pay HELLO! two million dollars, Nathaniel wasn’t going to spoil their wedding weekend.
She smoothed her skirt and knew she was being silly. Nathaniel wasn’t the reason Blake had invested in the foundation without telling her. He had nothing to do with her father getting into financial trouble and having to sell Summerhill.
But if Nathaniel hadn’t shown up with his short blond hair and backpack she wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. She would be sitting at her dressing table deciding which diamond earrings to wear.
She had made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to calm her nerves. But then Daisy had appeared and she wasn’t ready to tell her they might lose Summerhill. She remembered Daisy’s expression when she said Robbie was in love with her and smiled. Maybe the one good thing that came out of Nathaniel’s arrival was the young British photographer.
She opened the gate and walked up the narrow path to Imerovigli. She just needed to sit by herself and think about everything Blake had said.
She suddenly remembered when she was at Dartmouth and had a Shakespeare exam. Nathaniel insisted they study together, even though it was impossible to concentrate when he kept asking for a bite of her Subway sandwich.
She’d crept back to the library after Nathaniel went to bed. She reread the whole textbook until she memorized the names and dates of Shakespeare’s tragedies. She remembered Nathaniel pouting when she got a hundred on the exam and he managed a B-plus.
* * *
Now she perched on a stone bench and gazed at silver cruise ships. It was late afternoon and in a couple of hours their friends and family would gather at the restaurant on Amoudi Bay. She imagined platters of grilled octopus and tomato keftedes. There would be strings of yellow lights and a harpsichord.
She thought about the article in the Los Angeles Times and knew her mother was right. Journalists had to create a story. What could be better than a small-town boy from Ohio craving to be accepted into the elite drawing rooms of New York?
But then she thought of the guests he’d invited to the wedding and his donation to the foundation and her shoulders tensed. Why did Blake keep secrets unless he wasn’t sure of his intentions? Maybe he did see her as the key to memberships into private clubs and friendships with the most important families in America.
She remembered all the wonderful moments of the last few months: being caught in a spring rain shower and running back to her apartment. Undressing in the living room and ending up in bed. Gazing at Blake’s wide shoulders after they made love and wondering how she could be so happy.
They attended cocktail parties and movie premieres but they also ate at cafés on the Upper East Side. She remembered Blake stepping into the kitchen of an Italian bistro and donning a checkered apron. He’d ladled spaghetti onto wide plates and served them to the patrons. The owner kissed Blake on the cheek and exclaimed he was the greatest movie star.
She pictured the check dated the day after he proposed and felt like a pawn in a nineteenth-century marriage contract. How could her father accept Blake’s donation without telling her? Then she imagined Summerhill’s vast kitchen and sloping lawn and knew he would do anything to protect it.
She heard footsteps and turned around.
“I’ve had more exercise in the last few days than when I was preparing for the sequel to The Hunt for Red October.” Blake appeared beside her. He wore leather loafers and his sunglasses were propped on his forehead.
“What are you doing here?” Brigit asked. “I thought you were visiting the hot springs.”
“I told my groomsmen to go without me.” Blake shrugged. “I stopped by the villa and Daisy said you went out. I need to talk to you.”
“It’s not a good time.” Brigit hesitated.
“Ever since I was in my early twenties and arrived in Hollywood everything was simple. I bought shiny cars and dated pretty girls and won bigger roles,” he began. “But I realized I wanted to do more than entertain teenagers eating buttered popcorn. Then I met you and it all made sense. You are beautiful and intelligent and want to change the world.
“But I went about it all wrong. I don’t need the CFO of Sotheby’s or the curator at the Guggenheim to see us recite our vows. Let’s elope and not tell anyone we’re married. Or run off to Portugal and live on a sailboat. I don’t care where we are, as long as I wake up beside you.”
“We can’t elope, all our friends flew to Santorini.” Brigit gulped.
“I want to show you something.” Blake pulled her up.
“I don’t need any more jewelry and you already bought a catamaran.” Brigit tried to smile.
“Come with me,” Blake insisted. “It will only take a minute.”
He led her to a yellow taxi and opened the doors. He handed the driver a wad of euros and climbed into the backseat.
“Where are we going?” Brigit asked, sliding in beside him.
“You’ll see.” Blake grinned, clutching the vinyl headrest.
Brigit sat on the hard seat and watched the harbor fade into the distance. The car bumped along the gravel until they reached the village of Oia.
Brigit stepped into the main square and felt the warm sun on her shoulders. There was a white stone church with gold inlaid doors and stained-glass windows. Elegant restaurants had striped awnings and window boxes full of purple hibiscus.
“Oia is the highest village in Santorini,” Blake explained. “It isn’t as central as Fira but it has some of the loveliest architecture on the island.”
“I feel like Sophia Loren in Boy on a Dolphin.” Brigit smiled. “A waiter in a white dinner jacket will appear carrying frothy blue cocktails with sliced pineapple.”
Blake pulled her close and kissed her softly on the mouth. He tucked her hair behind her ear and grabbed her hand. “Follow me.”
They crossed the cobblestones and entered a whitewashed building perched on the cliff. The wide salon had gold-and-white marble floors and gold silk sofas. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceiling and ceramic vases were filled with white hibiscus.
“The hotel Katikies is the most exclusive hotel in Santorini,” Blake explained. “It has a rooftop swimming pool and a spa and a Michelin restaurant.”
“Why are we here?” Brigit gazed at the abstract paintings and marble statues.
“This weekend isn’t about cruising to Therasia or exploring the ruins at Akrotiri. I don’t care about the hot springs or the Pyrgos castle,” Blake began. “The most important thing is that we are in Santorini to begin our life together. Every night I lie in the king-sized bed and wish I was beside you.”
“You do?” Brigit looked up.
“I thought it would be wonderful to rent separate villas so you could enjoy your family and I could be with my groomsmen,” Blake continued. “I don’t care if we’re not supposed to see each other the day of the wedding. I have to sleep with you tonight.” His face broke into a smile. “So I rented out the whole hotel.”
“You did what?” Brigit gasped.
“I didn’t want to bump into families with screaming children or couples on their honeymoon the night before our wedding,” Blake continued. “We have our own masseuse and a choice of three restaurants. If you want to get ready at the villa, you can leave your dress there.” He took her hand. “Will you stay with me here tonight?”
Brigit flashed on the Los Angeles Times article and the foundation and flinched. But it could all be worked out if they spent time together. She pictured their legs entangled in cotton sheets and a shiver ran down her spine.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He took her hand and led her down a narrow hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He turned and grinned. “We have to decide if we want to sleep in the Captain’s Suite or the Katikies Suite.”
They explored the Captain’s Suite with its round white bed and blue-tiled bathroom. They peeked in the Master Suite and saw an orange wool rug and pastel-colored furniture.
Finally they climbed a flight of stairs and opened a lacquered blue door. The suite had a living room with turquoise silk sofas and a marble bar. The ceiling was mosaic tile and the walls were thick white plaster.
Brigit stepped onto the balcony and caught her breath. The sun was a yellow ball and the clouds were ribbons of beige satin. The Aegean glittered like a magic carpet and she could see the whole caldera.
“I like this one.” She turned to Blake.
“You can’t decide yet.” He took her hand. “You haven’t seen the bedroom.”
Blake led her up a few stairs and opened a wooden door. The bedroom had peach-colored walls and a white marble floor. A canopied bed was covered with a lace bedspread and littered with silk pillows.
Blake pulled her close and kissed her softly on the lips. She inhaled his scent of aftershave and cologne and felt almost dizzy.
He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped off his loafers. He leaned forward and slipped his hand under her dress.
“Come here,” he whispered. “God, you feel good, I want to stay like this forever.”
“I do too.” She felt his fingers against her skin and gasped.
His fingers slid in deeper and she pressed herself against his chest. The warmth became a hot wetness and she clasped his shoulders. Her body tipped and she cried out and shuddered.
She unzipped her dress and pulled him onto the bed. She opened her legs and drew him on top of her. Blake kissed her mouth and her breasts and her hair. He lowered himself into her and she felt the exquisite heat and sheer pleasure.
“I love you,” he murmured. “I never want to be apart.”
“I love you too,” she said, inhaling his cologne.
He moved faster and she wrapped her arms around his back. He paused and studied her blue eyes and slender cheekbones. Then he picked up speed until the ripples became endless waves and her whole body cracked open.
Brigit listened to Blake’s even breathing and tucked herself against his chest. She glanced out the window at the pale blue sky and turquoise ocean. In twenty-four hours they were getting married. She closed her eyes and thought she couldn’t wait.