Page 194 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

He hadn’t had to deal with any of that, and yet he’d resented her—or acted as if he had—because she’d struggled with all the adjustments. How had he not realised any of that before? How had he not told her so?

‘What is it?’ Mia asked unsteadily. ‘You’re looking at me in a funny way.’

‘I’m just realising how incredible you are,’ Santos replied. ‘And how amazingly strong.’

‘What?’ Mia looked surprised as well as relieved, and Santos realised she must have been bracing herself for some sort of criticism. Why? Had he really been that negative before, that ungenerous?

‘I should have told you before,’ he said, ‘Back in Seville, at the estate. You took on a lot, Mia, coming home with me. Trying to work out a whole new way of life.’

‘I don’t think I did a very good job of it,’ Mia replied, biting her lip. ‘I suppose I could have tried harder.’

‘I could have tried harder too.’

She stared at him, her brow furrowed, as if she couldn’t quite believe or trust what he was saying, but she didn’t ask any more questions, and Santos was relieved. He still needed to untangle his own thoughts...as well as his own feelings. And just now he wanted simply to enjoy what they had.

Mia must have felt the same, because a smile entered her voice as her hand slipped tantalisingly down his chest. ‘We’ve talked enough for now, I think,’ she murmured. ‘This is our honeymoon, remember?’ She rolled on top of him, and now the smile was on her lips and in her eyes too, her hair brushing his bare chest as her body moved against his. ‘Let’s make the most of it,’ she whispered.

And that, Santos decided as his mind hazed with desire, seemed like a very good idea indeed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘ICANNOTBELIEVEyou haven’t done this before.’

They were standing on the dock, under the hard, hot light of the summer sun, as Santos loaded the snorkelling equipment into the sail-boat and Mia watched him, hands on her slender hips. She was wearing a white bikini top and a pair of cut-off denim shorts. Thanks to the sun, the freckles on her nose stood out in golden relief, making her look all the more enticing.

They’d been on Amorgos for three days, and those days had been just as wonderful as Barcelona, if not more so...or even the first heady days of their romance. They’d walked into the nearby village and bought feta swimming in brine, fresh olives, tomatoes and crusty bread for a picnic they’d had on the rocky shoreline, washed down with a bottle of Agiorgitiko as they’d basked and kissed in the sun.

They’d hiked up to the top of the nearby mountain, visited a beautiful old monastery clinging to the hillside and had drunk retsina and eaten rosewater jellies with the smiling monks who’d given their marriage a blessing, chanting prayers over them before they’d left. They’d wandered through ancient ruins, following the footsteps of those who lived long ago, imagining who might have once lived there and the experiences they might have had, while wild goats had daintily plucked their way through the strewn rocks.

Everything he did with Mia made him feel as if the volume had been turned up, the intensity and brightness too. He was experiencing life as he never had before, and he loved it.

And as for atnight... At night, they’d rediscovered each other’s bodies again and again, finding passion and joy in each other’s arms that Santos thought he would never, ever tire of. This was the life he wanted—not one of stultifying duty or relentless work, but one of love and laughter, light, life and joy, amidst all the necessary travails.

Chasing on the heels of such happiness, the thought gave him a sinking sense of guilt and despair that he struggled to shed. They might not have said as much to each other, but this week at Villa Paraiso was a step out of time, of reality. In a few days, maybe a week, he would have to return to Seville. They both would. And, silently, they’d agreed not to talk about it.

And they wouldn’t today, Santos told himself as he gave Mia a smiling shrug. ‘I haven’t snorkelled because I’ve barely been here. I only had the place built a few years ago.’

‘Years,’ Mia repeated, cocking one eyebrow. ‘That’s a long time, Santos.’

He shrugged again, the smile slipping from his face. ‘There have been many demands on my time.’

‘I know.’ Her face softened. ‘I’m amazed you’ve been able to take this much time off, frankly, with all the responsibilities you have.’

They were skirting dangerously close to what they weren’t supposed to talk about. Santos held up a mask. ‘Have you ever snorkelled before?’

‘Yes, a few times. Nowhere as amazing as here, though.’ The smile she gave him was easy and wide. ‘I’m looking forward to it. I bet the view under the water is amazing.’

‘The view from here is pretty good already,’ Santos replied, with a waggle of his eyebrows at her bikini top.

‘I’d have to agree,’ she replied, waggling her eyebrows back at him and making him laugh. He’d never laughed so much as when he was with Mia. How had he forgotten that, in the midst of all their troubles? Why had he not worked harder to recapture it?

‘All right, I think we’re ready,’ he told her as he loaded the last of the equipment into the boat and then reached one hand out to help her in.

‘So whydidyou build this place?’ Mia asked as she settled herself in the boat and Santos hoisted the sail. Soon they were skimming over the blue-green waters, the villa and the dock receding behind them. ‘That is, if you were never really going to have the time off to come here. Does your mother come here, or your sister?’

He didn’t miss the slightly diffident tone she took when she mentioned his family, which he suspected was without even realising it. His mother had been as welcoming as she knew how to be, considering the state of appalled shock she’d been in that her only son, the heir to the Aguila fortune, had married a no-name American after two weeks’ acquaintance. Santos had believed—and still did—that his mother would warm to Mia in time. And when his sister finally made it back to Seville—something she didn’t do all that often—Santos hoped Mia would find a kindred spirit in her.

‘No, my mother never did,’ he told Mia. ‘I’m not sure she’d be interested. My mother prefers shopping and skiing to lazing about in Greece. And my sister would probably love it, but she’s often busy with work...as I am.’ He acknowledged this with a rueful grimace. ‘But in any case, I built this place for me. For my family: the family I hoped to have one day, not so much for them.’

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