Page 13 of Promised to the Satyr

The house requires updates. Would you like to be involved in the renovations? Of course, this is entirely up to you.

Though I have not cooked in my restaurants for many years, I still design the menus and enjoy cooking very much. I would happily cook for you. What type of food do you enjoy?

I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours,

Niko

I hug the letter to my chest and close my eyes. Why does he have to be so nice? I imagined a brutish and bullying goat more like my father. Niko is modern-minded and kind. It’s possible hewas going to refuse my offer of sex earlier today had Father not interrupted.

There’s a soft knock on my door. Niko says, “I have a tray with food for you, Astra. I know today was difficult.”

I sit up, staring at the closed door. My heart has lodged in my throat. I want to open the door but if I do, what will it cost me to trust him?

“I will be downstairs if you need to talk.” He clomps away.

When I’m certain he’s made it to the bottom of the steps, I go to the door and pull the tray inside before locking myself inside again. It’s silly really. First, it’s unlikely Niko would barge in without an invitation. Second, the door’s lock is not likely an obstacle to a very large satyr. Still, I like the idea that I can lock the door. This space feels as safe as being inside one of the trees.

There’s a little desk in the corner and I place the tray there before removing the cloche. The scent of Greek oregano, tomatoes, and cheese fills my senses. A perfect slice of pastitsio with mushrooms rather than the traditional beef. The lasagna-like dish is comfort food. I suspect that’s why Niko prepared it for me.

How he can know I need comfort is a mystery. I have no idea what he needs. I’ve spent no time trying to understand him in the last two days.

Recovering the dish, I pull on jeans and a blue shirt adorned with small pink roses. Carefully, I carry the tray downstairs, and when I find Niko eating at the long dining table, I join him, sitting to his right. “Thank you. This is one of my favorites, though I usually have to eat around most of the meat.”

A hint of a smile plays on his beautiful lips. “The mushrooms make a good substitute.”

I eat and relish the rich flavors of an old country that I’ve never seen, but know is part of my ancestry. “This is delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it and I’m happy you decided to come down for dinner. I would have understood if you wished to stay in your room.” His soft voice sends a thrill through me.

After eating half of the large portion, I put my fork down. “I find my father’s machinations exhausting and they make me sad.”

Niko rises and takes a bottle of wine from a small refrigerator in the island. Gathering two glasses, he returns, opens the bottle, and pours. “I imagine you would prefer him to show some affection. May I suggest that securing your future is his way of doing that?

“Are you taking his side?” I put the wine down. “He would marry me to a stranger without a second thought. What if you were abusive? What if you dragged me back to Canada without my permission? He couldn’t have known your character before he chose you.”

“How do you know that?” His smile hasn’t wavered in the face of my rage. He’s calm and his voice is soothing.

“Father wouldn’t have chosen someone so agreeable to me. He thought you would dominate me the same way he has always tried to control my life.” Yet, Niko has done neither of those things.

“Would you prefer that I drag you to the altar and force a life on you?” He sips the wine.

It’s a stupid question, so I reclaim my glass and let the fruity Italian blend come to life on my palate. I close my eyes as the wine slides down my throat. When I open them, I look into Niko’s almost black irises and the caring there boosts my courage. “I would have liked to have met you at a party without any intervention from Father. Maybe we would have shared a drink and talked about the weather at first. You would have told me that you make a far better brochette than what was being served. I would have laughed and said that you would need toprove that. Maybe at the end of the night, we would have agreed to a date.”

Sorrow pulls the smile from those lips I have not stopped admiring since first seeing them. “That is not our story thus far, Astra. Does it follow that we must have a tragic or unsatisfying end?”

I put the wine down. “I don’t know.”

“I hope not.” The way he looks at me sets my heart throbbing in my chest and other parts also take note. “I like your letters.” It’s dim in the dining room with only a small lamp on the buffet at one end, but I think he’s blushing.

“I’m glad. Shall I give you the last two?”

I nod. “I would like to read them.”

“I think I would have written more than four had you been allowed the opportunity to respond. Your father did us both a disservice. If he believed me the right man for you, he should have trusted you to see it.” He reaches across the corner of the table and takes my hand. He massages my palm, then the knuckles of each finger. “I am happy you agreed to stay here for the week.”

That couldn’t have been easy to admit with all I have said and done, trying to escape him, and telling father I wouldn’t do as he told me. “I’m glad I did too.” Tears clog my throat and I have no idea why I’m filled with emotions.

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