Home to Hellas (The Challenge Series) (3 page)

“Journalism is tight in the US, too, with things going digital.”

“Again, I am wishing for aspects of the past.” He sighed. “You’ll find the suit in the bathhouse, along with towels. I will change and meet you in the water.”

She took the other crutch back and headed to the enclave. He went all out, preparing for the athletes who stayed at the estate. Instead of art or windows, industrial gray lockers lined the inside of the hut. They took away from the Mediterranean tone, but would work better for team practices. A row of black courtesy swimming suits made her wish for the giggling fun of splashing with her team.

A pile of yellow, red, and orange caught her attention, and she snickered as she held it up. Putting modesty aside while in Europe marked one of her favorite lessons learned. She frowned at the relatively conservative cut. She’d pictured three tiny triangles with a nice Brazilian butt cut.

Jenn stripped away her clothes, relieved to have her jeans away from her sore leg. Her knee had swollen to gross proportion after her fall, but it had gone down some since London. She shimmied on the suit. It covered her to her collarbones. Only when she glanced in the mirror did she realize what it didn’t cover. The back cutout started at the halter neck and left her back uncovered, barely covered her ass, giving a sleek, modern line. The tag still hung from the side seam. The tall, blonde in the mirror needed some sun and an attitude adjustment.

She wondered if it was the one he’d originally bought or if her signals earlier in the day had prompted a purchase of something more modest. He’d dropped hints on the drive from the airport, but she hadn’t shared the details of her terrible year.

Jenn wished that girl would show a little courage and get past the last month and embrace Greece…and Dorian.

She started toward the pool, but backtracked for her towel. When she emerged, he strode from the second changing room in the sort of tiny brief most American men would run from. He wore something similar every year, this one in crimson. He sported muscle, dark tanned skin, and…hair. He grinned, looking up her body. How his improved every year she had no clue, but she appreciated his authenticity and confidence.

“You like the piece?” he asked with a critical eye.

“It’s very pretty.” She spun so he could see the back. “Even covers my bum, which was unexpected but appreciated.”

He threw his head back and laughed, the deep chuckle her favorite sound in the whole world. “Yes, I thought you might like that. If you don’t mind, I will help you in, so you don’t jar your knee.”

Unable to argue good sense, she waited until he dove in. When he emerged, his dark hair slicked back, she hobbled to him.

He held out his arms. “It’s deep enough to slide in.”

She set aside her crutch and crouched, trying to keep her knee semi-straight. As she shifted toward the edge, Dorian approached and put his hands around her waist. Instant desire to snap at him rose, but she tamped it down and allowed him to steer her in. He stepped back, giving her breathing room but not much privacy. She quickly adjusted to the warmth, letting her body relax and soak in the perfection.

“What a good idea. I can’t get over how much work you’ve done.”

He gazed around, his expression matching her feeling of contentment. “Thank you. I tried to tell my daughter the sea is so close, but a heated pool is better for you and other athletes who may have injuries. It is Olympic size, so do a few laps if you wish. Or not. I can get a…you say…floater, so you can relax.”

He pointed to a fancy box filled with neon-colored noodles, very out of place in the upscale environment. She floated on her back. “I think I’ll relax a while. You go ahead and swim. I bet you could use it.”

“You have no idea,” he murmured, but before she could press for details, he pushed off the wall.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one with a lot dogging her. Dorian discussing money, even in the abstract, didn’t happen. He kept business separate from his personal matters, and for him to share meant it had infiltrated life…a life he wanted her to know a bit more about. She dipped her head under the water enough to cover her ears. Her jaw ached from how hard she’d clenched at his touch, and she worked it to ease the ache.

So many nurses, doctors, and technicians had examined her body in the last two months. She’d gone in for a routine Pap smear, an unpleasant enough task, and they’d found a few odd cells. So she’d had a second. And a third. At first she’d tried to use humor to defray the invasive procedures. She’d never been open with her sexual side and had allowed access to her body to a select few. Even though they were doctors, the point came when she began hating them for being near her. She began hating her cervix and vagina for causing problems.

At one point, they’d scheduled tests for more invasive testing. She’d spent a week researching the procedures, psyching herself up to make it through the planned day, losing sleep and coming to terms with what a cancer confirmation would mean. The apologetic call from the lab technician who mixed up the files should have made all well, but hadn’t.

She stood in the gentle waves and winced when her leg wobbled. As soon as she’d gotten around to accepting she didn’t have a horrible cancer, the ligaments in her knee gave out. More tests, more procedures, more…more.

“I have never seen you so still.” Dorian leaned on the side of the pool. “I am accustomed to you always busy, always moving.”

She winced, but remained as she was. The last year had taught her to sit still, something she couldn’t completely regret.

Dorian’s heart had stuck on Jenn the first time he saw her so many years earlier. She hadn’t been the fastest, tallest, or best on the court, but the joy she wore when she played—the pure mischief in her expression—hit him deep. Madelyn had once held such a playful spirit. He’d vowed to refrain from real intimacy and new love until he found someone who shared her zest for life. Jenn did. He’d held back in respect to her youth, wanting her to live without regret.

Seeing her in his pool, wearing the suit he’d had brought in at the last minute to replace the miniscule bikini he’d first bought, reaffirmed his desires. Yet, she was different. After each visit, he’d initiated more contact between summers. This time he’d emailed her several times and tried to call at work, finding basketball-related excuses. When his attempts went unreturned, he’d worried. Her aloof and sometimes fearful behavior now showed he’d been right to worry.

“Tell me the rest of your events this year.”

He maintained his distance but hated it. Her loveliness humbled him. Unlike many Americans who either lent themselves entirely to food or starved themselves thin, she curved and dipped, showing a strong beauty he respected and craved.

He stored his secrets within, had for years. In the last few months, he’d faced them and considered himself better for it.

She showed darkness on the surface, and he longed to reverse the pain. If she’d been hurt…his heart froze. If someone hurt her, he would find them and do as his ancestors did when someone wronged their family.

“Well, my mother died. I lost my job because I had to take so much time off, so that sucked. I lost my apartment—”

“You’re kidding.” He hadn’t imagined such extreme conditions. “I wish you had called me.”

“And said what?” She didn’t meet his gaze. “Anyway, I couldn’t do that to you, I never would. Mom had a modest life insurance policy, so I used that to get back on my feet. Natalie called me two weeks later and offered me a job at the college, so it was a stressful time but ended well.”

The stress could have caused some issues, but he wouldn’t think so many. The way she avoided his eyes told him she’d left something out.

“And the rest?”

Her green gaze became sharp. A little fire led to good things. She’d been distant and foggy since her arrival. If he didn’t know her so well, he would have chalked it up to jetlag, but she waved sticks and cocktails at jetlag for the hell of it.

“The rest is me being a wimp,” she replied and pushed off into the water. “I had some medical stuff come up. After Mom’s ordeal, I let the worst-case scenario scare me. I’m getting better about it, but please discount this quiet weirdness. I’ll get over it.”

“Why do you not like me touching you?”

She stopped short and her shoulders sank in something remarkably close to defeat. Yet, that didn’t fit. She might lose a game, but she always learned, always grew—experience made her a winner. She called it a win because living and trying meant she had the upper hand.

“I think somewhere between the third Pap smear and biopsy…yeah, I’m not quite sure, but I’m trying.”

He didn’t understand what she spoke of, but with the medical clue, he could find out. Dorian committed the words to memory. He swam near her, mindful of giving her space.

“You look tired again.” Compassion filled his heart. The last few hours had disturbed him, and he struggled to make sense of it all. “Let me help you out. You can ice your knee and get some rest.”

She bit her lip. “I’m getting old.”

He held back when he wanted to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Ah, not so much, darling. Come, you can tell me what you think of the ice bath.”

Chapter Four

Jenn’s knee didn’t pound as hard as it had the day before, which made her think the ice bath might have something going for it. That or the sleep she’d gotten had caught up to the nights she’d spent restless. No matter the reason, she felt good when she met the Greek dawn from bed.

The sound of Athena’s breakfast cart brought back wonderful memories. The housekeeper knew she and Dorian enjoyed time together. The spry grandmother of fifteen adored him and approved of Jenn. The light tap on the door wouldn’t have woken her, but since she was awake, she welcomed company.

“Come on in,” Jenn called.

Athena entered in another of her dark gray dresses, complete with lighter gray apron. She left the cart at the door and lifted a large tray with both hands. She often joked that Dorian changed the platters to silver after she grew too feeble to carry the much heavier porcelain ones—and that she wished she’d complained sooner.

“Good morning,” Athena called. “I have pie and the coffee you like. Dorian ordered it early so it would be here in time. The best for Jenn.”

“You’re too kind.” She stepped out of bed and slipped on her robe. “Can you join me for a cup?”

Athena set the full tray down and cleared the small table near the seaside window. “I suppose I could. I always love to hear your travels.”

“And I always love to hear about your grandchildren.”

Athena lit up. “Two more grandsons this year. Probably the last, as they are the fourth in their families. Large families for today, so small compared to my day.”

“Congratulations. How lovely. What are their names?”

Athena wrinkled her nose. “Todd and Tucker. Their mothers’ choices, but what can I say? Nobody listens to me. Dorian says you lost your mother this year. I am very sorry.”

“Thank you.” Though she’d gotten accustomed to the genial kindness people offered when they heard of her loss, she wished she could go without the reminder.

“Death is hard, but life can be much harder.” Athena sighed and cut the pie, putting a portion on each plate. “Which is one reason I’m so glad for your visit. Dorian…he needs more joy.”

“Oh?” She took a bite and thanked everything good she was in Greece. “He mentioned business and the government were trying.”

“Bah.” Athena poured the coffee. “Business and government are always trying. He does well enough. It’s his harridan mother. She nags—which is why I do not complain about Toby and Tucker—I learned from the badger to only want happiness in my family.”

“What does she fuss over?”

“Everything, but mostly money. ‘Work more,’ she says. ‘You must quadruple your wealth to double it for each of your children.’ She is a nag who doesn’t understand business. Instead of being happy Dorian does well and is loving life, she worries about the future. If I weren’t but a simple housekeeper, I would give her a piece of my mind.”

Jenn scoffed. “You could never be called a simple housekeeper, Athena. I’m sorry he has to deal with it. Mother pressure…not fun.”

“But now you are here and will stay.” Athena grinned. “Stay all summer and then stay longer. I say, forever.”

Jenn picked a thread on a linen napkin. “I don’t know about that, but I will be here for the next three weeks.”

“Think big picture.” The older woman held up her wrinkled hands. “A future with Dorian, maybe a little brother for the girls. Yes, I like it. And as his wife, you could stand up to his mother and tell her to—” Her run of Greek probably would have made Jenn blush if she’d understood. She finished with a flourish and winked before diving into her breakfast.

Jenn let the dear lady’s ramblings die without comment. She didn’t know what the future held; her focus was on learning to live for the moment again. If any of those things had entered Dorian’s mind, he’d never mentioned them. Athena’s wandering thoughts needed to stay fantasy.

“The doctor will be here later,” Athena said.

“Could you cancel for me? My knee is better today, and the fewer doctors I see, the better.”

She tsked. “Fine. I will schedule a massage instead.”

“I hope you enjoy it.”

“No, no, sassy girl. You will have a massage. I will run you a bath. And bring you pastry. You are jumpy, and I don’t like it. You sleep in here, and I don’t like it. You are haunted…and I don’t like it one bit.”

She saw too much. Jenn kept her gaze on the half-eaten pie. Despite the upset, she took another bite. She’d lost weight because she hadn’t been able to keep anything down under stress. She chewed, grateful for the good food and healthy appetite.

The rarely still housekeeper stood, her plate empty and coffee cup dry. “I need to get busy. Dorian wakes up much too early these days. You should help him with that. I will call in the masseuse for before lunch, and you will be ready.”

She used to love a good massage. It might be a safe, low-pressure way to re-acclimatize to touch.