Anne McAllister - The Santorini Bride

But he had thought to give Martha a bit of a breather. She’d been a trooper, feeding them all with some sort of seafood stew she’d miraculously concocted from the staples in the cupboards and the vegetables and fish he’d fetched from the market, chatting cheerfully and firmly declining all help with the dishes.

Not that the other two women’s offer to dry had been all that sincere. Cassie had been itching to get down into the center part of town where there were bars and clubs and men. And Agnetta had said she would love to see the view from the roof—if Theo didn’t mind.

He figured if he left her to dry dishes she’d spend the time doing more mischief, telling Martha stories about their so-called affair that she had no need to hear. Taking Agnetta to the roof—and imparting a few home truths—seemed preferable.

So he’d dutifully led her up the stairs and pointed out the sights, which were indeed memorable, all the while keeping his own carefully calculated space between them.

“Martha?” he responded to Agnetta’s question now with a smile that he didn’t even have to force. He’d actually enjoyed her during dinner. She hadn’t been silly like Cassie or sultry and demanding like Agnetta. She’d been bright and funny and charming, reminding him a bit of his kid sister, Tallie, or the proverbial girl next door.

Definitely not his usual style.

“No, she’s not,” he agreed readily, then slanted a slightly mocking glance Agnetta’s way. “That’s why I like her.”

Agnetta’s beautiful mouth formed a pout, and she gave his arm a playful shove. “Ah, you are just playing, then.”

“Don’t I always?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line at memories best left untouched. “Does she know that?”

“Yep.” The absolute unvarnished truth. And Martha’s idea to boot.

Agnetta’s brows lifted in surprise. “She does? And she agreed?”

“Of course. We understand each other.”

Agnetta gave him a long narrow-eyed gaze. “Do you? I wonder.”

Theo frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You need to be careful,” she told him. “She is not like me.”

“There’s a blessing.”

Agnetta made a face at him. “You’re not still holding a grudge because of my little mistake.”

He didn’t say he knew it hadn’t been a mistake. “I’m not holding a grudge. I don’t give a damn.”

She looked nettled, but shrugged. “Well, I’m only warning you. You could hurt her.”

Theo shook his head. “Nope.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, you know that, Theo?”

“No. I’m a realist. And so is Martha. You don’t need to worry about her. Now—” he shoved away from the wall he had been leaning against “—if you’ve seen all you want to see, we should be getting downstairs. It’s getting late.” He glanced pointedly at his watch.

“Late?” Agnetta blinked, then waved a hand at the twilit city below. “It’s not even completely dark yet. The guidebooks say life doesn’t begin on Santorini until midnight!”

“I wouldn’t know,” Theo said.

Agnetta stared at him in disbelief. Then she laughed. “You are playing with me. Come. We will see how much life there is.” She smiled and moved to hook her arm through his.

But Theo stepped away before she could. “No, thanks. But you go right ahead. Enjoy it.” He turned his back and headed for the stairs. Martha had had enough of a breather. It was time to call out the reinforcements. “I’ll give you a key.”

“A key?” Agnetta hurried after him. “But you are coming, too, surely. I mean, you and Martha, too, if you must, but—”

“We won’t be coming, too. We have other plans for this evening.” He reached the bottom of the stairs, then turned and smiled at her.

“What sort of plans?” Agnetta looked distinctly annoyed.

Theo lifted a brow and gave her his best wolfish grin. “I’m sure you can guess.”

What were they doing on the roof?

Not that she cared, really, Martha thought as she banged the last clean pan down on the stove and hung the dish towel on the hook by the stove. But you’d have thought, if Mr. Sexiest Sailor really wanted to avoid the Stunning Swedish Pursuer, he wouldn’t have agreed quite so readily to her very obvious ploy for a rooftop rendevous.

But he had.

Agnetta had flirted for Sweden all during dinner, and while Theo had not responded in kind, as soon as the meal was over and Cassie had dashed off to get a head start on the night life, Agnetta had batted her lashes and asked him to show her the view from the roof.

And stupid fool that he was, Theo had agreed.

He could have suggested she help with clearing the table or doing the dishes. He could have not dismissed Agnetta’s vague offer to help. He could have helped himself! Martha thought, banging the cupboard shut.

But he hadn’t.

He’d said, “Sure we can go up to the roof. We’ll just get out of your way, then,” he’d added with a mere glance in Martha’s direction.

So were they getting it on up there? Martha banged the cupboard shut again for good measure. Jerk!

Well, the hell with him. Let him have his way with Agnetta—or let her have her way with him. There was no way she was going up on the roof and defending his honor!

If he ended up in bed with Agnetta, that was his problem! Although he needn’t think he was going to bring Agnetta to bed as long as Martha was there, too!

And he needn’t think if he succumbed to temptation he was going to be able to throw her out on her ear because he didn’t need her anymore, either. Martha was damned if she was leaving. So there.

Now she yawned widely and flexed her shoulders, still feeling the kinks of her trans-Atlantic flight. She wanted a shower and a good night’s sleep. The nap she’d had while Theo was out sailing had been interrupted far too soon by Agnetta and Cassie turning up on the doorstep.

For a few seconds she looked longingly up the stairs toward her former bedroom. But that was where Theo had deliberately put Cassie and Agnetta’s suitcases. At the same time Martha’s own duffel bag had disappeared. It was in Theo’s bedroom where he had put it while she’d been making dinner.

There was a bathroom in that suite of rooms. She could take a shower there. Chances were she would be sound asleep by the time he came down with Agnetta. If he came down.

Maybe they’d spend the night on the roof, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Martha shot a disparaging glance toward the stairs that went to the roof, then stalked into Theo’s bedroom. “Have fun,” she muttered under her breath.

Like Theo’s bedroom, the bathroom held no trace of her parents’ former occupancy, either. The tiles on the vanity were still the small obsidian squares she remembered, but the pink walls her mother had favored were long gone. The rest of the room was stark white and unadorned, except for the towels, which looked new and were a deep sea blue. Martha rubbed an approving hand over one of them, looking forward to wrapping her body in it after her shower, then turned on the water to warm while she stripped off her clothes and let them fall on the floor.

The naked body she saw in the mirror was nowhere near as toned and polished as the one she was sure that Agnetta was flaunting for Theo’s enjoyment at this very moment. Martha’s hips were wider, her breasts were fuller. She didn’t wear a size four like Agnetta and Cassie. Or even a size six. Or eight, which was probably about the size of the woman who had been sharing the shower with Julian.

And damn it, she didn’t want to think about that.

Abruptly she turned away from contemplating her shortcomings in the mirror and drew back the shower curtain and stepped in.