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“Your pen.” Elpida pointed absentmindedly at the fountain pen the young doctor put in his breast pocket. It was about to leak ink and stain his white robe, which she knew because she’d seen it in her head.
Dr. Athanasiou patted his breast pocket without looking down, and the ink spilled through the fabric to spread blue all over his fingertips. Sometimes her premonitions didn’t work out the way she wanted them to, but at least this damage was minimal.
What about dying in Epimetheus’ arms?
No, that wasn’t a premonition. The good doctor would tell her she had a concussion, and she could go home and not sleep it off.
“I hate when this happens.” He stood to wash his hands, though it didn’t do much good. He returned and sat in front of her, light pen in hand. He flashed the narrow beam into her left eye, then the right. “Pupils react to the light.” He put the light pen in his stained pocket, cursed softly, and took it out to toss it on the examination bed beside her. “Follow my finger without moving your head?” He moved his index finger slowly in a semicircle, a few centimeters from her face, and Elpida tracked its arch with her gaze.
“Good. Hold out both hands, palms up.” He rolled his stool back a little, to give her room, and pressed down on her hands with his. Finally he asked her to relax and tapped her knees with his reflex hammer. Both legs jerked as they should.
“Everything seems fine.” He returned to his desk and gave her a look that said he’d seen her type before and didn’t like it.
“What about”—she couldn’t bring herself to tell this baby doctor about her hallucinations, when he was determined to dismiss her—“my headaches?”
He rolled his eyes. “If those are chronic, you need to schedule an appointment with a neurologist. It’s not a case for the ER.”
“Because you’re so swamped.” She didn’t bother covering the sarcasm in her tone as she stood and grabbed her bag. “Thanks a lot.”
“No problem. Enjoy the rest of your night.” His pleasantness sounded fake, and she didn’t return it.
She flung the door open and strode out of there. Epimetheus might not be done with his examination yet. She’d wait to make sure he was all right, and then go on with her life, tonight being no more than a memory. The thought squeezed around her chest, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Why was the possibility of never seeing him again affecting her so much?
She didn’t get to ponder it longer, because Epimetheus stood leaning against the peeling wall by the information desk. Nobody should look as good as he did in a pair of gray sweatpants and a matching shirt, but the fabric hugged his muscles like it was made for him.
And how come a cop a head shorter and much leaner than Epimetheus had these clothes lying around in his car?
Epimetheus smiled and held up the tablecloth she’d used as a makeshift skirt for him, folded into a neat square. “Thank you for this. Everything all right?”
She was not all right. She was being paranoid. “I should be asking you that.” She accepted the cloth with a forced smile and looked around, but there was no sign of the cop. “What did the doctor say?”
Epimetheus waved away her concern. “I’m fine. Just a bump.”
“Do you know how you ended up buried there?”
His mouth tightened when he said, “No. Must have been hit from behind.”
But what was he doing in the middle of nowhere? “Where were you attacked?”
“I don’t want to go over this again.” The man gave puppy eyes better than her brother’s actual puppy did. “Do you mind?”
“No. I understand.” But she didn’t—not really. He was a mystery, and she wanted to peel away all of his layers and cradle his heart in her palms. Only that made him sound like an onion, and her like a serial killer.
They stared at each other, neither speaking, for longer than she felt comfortable. “So what do you do now?” she finally asked.
His smile could have melted off her panties if the two of them were someplace more private. “That depends on you. I have no papers, no money, and no place to stay for the next two nights, until my brothers come for me.”
Huh. She could take him home. No, he wasn’t a stray. “I can loan you money for a hotel room. Where are they meeting you?”
Was it her, or did his smile falter? “That would be incredibly kind. Thank you. Do you think you can also give me a ride to Athens?” he said.
Elpida’s heart slammed behind her ribs. She could spend more time with him. “I’d love— Shit. The bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s... I have to pick up my boss first. She’s in Pelion. Do you mind if we take a detour?”
Smile at full wattage again, he made a sweeping gesture toward the door. “Not at all. It’ll give us more time to get to know each other.”
And maybe give her time to fall for him.
Nope. Wasn’t gonna do that. Because she’d never see him again once they were back in Athens. And in the meantime, she could enjoy his company. She hooked her arm around his and let him lead her to her car. This time, instead of looking at the thing like it was about to bite him, he even got her door for her. She sat behind the wheel, staring at the folded tablecloth in her hand. This was real. Tangible. Soothing.
Epimetheus took it from her with a chuckle, returned it to the trunk, and then swaggered around the car and glided into the passenger seat.
Elpida buckled her seat and started the car, and—
She was crawling on top of him, clawing at his button-down shirt until she could press her hands to hot, bare flesh. His hands skated up her thighs, lifting her skirt. He cupped her ass and kneaded, pressing her into his hardness. Her thong was soaked. The windows’ being fogged by their panted breaths wasn’t enough to hide them from any onlookers. She was too old for this. She should be over making out with men in cars. But she couldn’t wait till they were home. She needed him inside her. Needed him to fill and stretch her.
Epimetheus let go long enough to adjust the chair so she had more wiggle room, and she undid his belt and popped the buttons of his fly. He was free and hard and thick, throbbing in her palm.
“I want you,” he purred. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything, I want you.” The words seeped inside her as he claimed her lips again. He tasted like alcohol and dark chocolate, and his urgency amplified her hunger.
Wow, that was intense. And she kind of regretted being thrown back to the present so soon. She pretended to look back over her shoulder, to catch a glimpse of Epimetheus. He was watching her, his eyes liquid gold.
Could he see what was on her mind?
That was stupid. Of course he couldn’t. Then again, he shouldn’t have color-changing eyes, either. She squirmed in her seat, slickness coating the apex of her thighs. In her premonition, they were in different clothes. If it came true, she would see him again. And then what? Climb him like a tree and never let go?
Die?
“Ready to meet the wicked witch?” she asked with faked cheer as she cracked her window. The belt of her bag dug into her stomach, but she couldn’t take the time to undo it. She needed to be on the open road, the wind cooling down the lust setting her skin on fire.
The gold disappeared from his irises. “What witch?” His voice, smooth as velvet before, now echoed harsh inside the cabin of the car.
“My boss. Not a witch, but definitely a bitch more often than not.” She pulled up the map on the car’s navigation system and reset their destination. “Let’s hope we make it there with no more surprises.” Though she really didn’t mind the tall, dark, and handsome surprise sitting beside her.
Especially when he covered her hand on the gear shift with his and whispered, “I won’t let her hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Odd promise, but it warmed her all the way to her heart. And scared her just as much.
The ride to Daphne’s boyfriend’s parents’ place—and wasn’t that a mouthful?—was unexpectedly short, now that Elpida knew where she was going.
Daphne was sitting on the stairs leading to the gate of the dark two-story stone house behind her, puffing on a cancer-stick, way too much luggage for a weekend getaway by her feet.
Elpida pulled over and lowered her window. “I’m really sorry I’m so late. Something was wrong with my GPS, and then—”
“Save your excuses for Monday, after coffee.” Daphne tossed her cigarette butt carelessly and stood on high heels that had no place on this dirt road. “Nikos is such an ass. His parents weren’t even here, and he expected me to cook. I said I don’t cook, so he made us an omelet and then said it was on me to do the dishes. He even asked me to make the bed, so we could sleep. Can you believe it?”
Elpida rolled her eyes. “Where is he now?” Daphne might be a bitch, but letting her wait in the cold, at this hour, was low, and Elpida didn’t think too highly of anyone who’d date her boss to begin with.
“Asleep, I guess. Get my bags.” Daphne waited for Elpida to get out of the car, but Epimetheus beat her to it, springing out and grabbing the two full-size suitcases before Elpida even opened her door.
“Well, hello there.” Daphne eyed him like he was made out of chocolate—or whatever her low-carb diet allowed for dessert. “I didn’t realize Elpida was on a date tonight.”
“He’s not... We just met.” Elpida pushed her door open, but Daphne shoved it shut again.
“You don’t need to come out.” Daphne didn’t even glance her way. “This tall stranger’s got it.”
Elpida felt her cheeks heating with a blush. Why did her stomach sour at the attention Daphne gave Epimetheus? She turned in her seat and glared, as Daphne watched Epimetheus’ ass while he loaded her bags in the trunk. When his hands were free, Daphne held out her palm. “I’d wait for Elpida to introduce us, but you know what a scatterbrain she is. I’m Daphne, and you’re definitely my hero.”
Of course. Because he was the one who drove for half a night to save Daphne’s ass from a perfectly normal weekend.
He smiled. “Epimetheus. Nice to meet you.”
He even got the back door for her, and Daphne let her fingers linger on his bulging bicep way too long for Elpida’s liking.
“You must tell me this guy’s story,” Daphne hissed before Epimetheus got back in his seat.
“Seat belts,” Elpida said, as she put the car into gear. “And why don’t you ask him?” She’d hate to admit that she knew little about Epimetheus herself. And yet she knew how he tasted and how he felt between her legs.
Epimetheus took his time securing his belt. “Not much to say, really. I picked up a hitchhiker. He wasn’t the friendly type. He took my car and money, and left me stranded in the middle of nowhere, until Elpida drove by.”
This didn’t explain why he’d been buried a kilometer away from the main road. And he’d told Elpida he hadn’t seen his attacker. Elpida gave him a questioning look, and he returned it with one she couldn’t decipher. It held apology, but also a hint of something darker. She was suddenly all too aware of the fact that she was in close confines with a man she barely knew. Should she feel threatened?
When he cupped her knee, her legs turned to Jell-O. Her mating instinct kicked into gear around him much more than her survival instinct did.
“Shall we?” He was asking if they’d be on their way, but she read so much more behind the two short words.
And she just knew he did too, when she replied, “We shall.”
“So are you from around here? Are we driving you home?” Daphne asked. In the mirror, Elpida saw her placing her hand on Epimetheus’ shoulder.
A small growl escaped Elpida’s throat. Apparently he set off her territorial instinct too.
Epimetheus saved her from gouging out her boss’s eyes, by shrugging off Daphne’s hold. “I’m from... the north. Elpida was kind enough to lend me money for a hotel room in Athens until my brother meets me there.”
He’d said brothers—plural—before.
“A hotel room? Nonsense. I have a huge condo, overlooking Lycabettus hill. I’ll gladly put you up for a couple nights, as long as you promise not to bite.” Daphne’s tone was throaty. “Unless I ask you to.”
Elpida was going to hurl. She stepped on the gas pedal hard, sending Daphne slamming back into her seat. “No reason for you to trouble yourself. He can stay with me,” Elpida said. The wolfish grin she saw on Epimetheus’ lips said it might not have been her brightest idea, but she was about to compound on it. “And I quit. Effective immediately.” She was owed two years’ worth of vacation time anyway.