He could see a tiny bird dipping itself in the pool, playing innocently, blissfully unaware of the possibility of danger. It reminded him of Selene. Next to him, she stirred. With a moan, she flung her arm over her eyes. ‘Turn the light off. Ugh—how can you be so thoughtless? It’s giving me a headache.’ He turned his head to look at her, remembering how frank and open she’d been. He was starting to understand why her father was so overprotective. She was a sitting duck for any unscrupulous individual that happened to come along. And now she was lying in his bed. His bed. In his house, where no woman had stayed the night before. The house he’d built from nothing after Stavros Antaxos had ripped everything from his family. Now he lay in silk sheets, but he never forgot how it had felt to lie on the cold, hard ground with the smell of rotting food in his nostrils.
