Indigo- The Complete Series, page 48
part #1 of Indigo Series
Stefanos didn’t want to reveal the details of his plan, but he wanted Hugh to know his apprehension. “I’m concerned about the Crusaders.”
Hugh raised his brows.
“The weather has been harsh, but it’s improving. There are even more crusaders gathered at the city gates than there have been in months. I think something is about to happen.”
“The generals—” Hugh interrupted.
Lowering his voice, Stefanos leaned in closer. “The generals are lazy and blissfully ignorant. It’s going to happen sooner rather than later.”
“That’s impossible,” Hugh said in a low growl. “The Crusaders are no match for the Varangians.”
“I hope you’re right.” Stefanos gulped his wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But there are more of them than us.”
They were quiet for a few moments, drinking their wine.
Stefanos got to his feet. “I’ve got to go.”
“Are you sure you can’t join me tonight? If not, I’ll take Helena for myself.” Hugh laughed into his goblet.
Stefanos leaned in and whispered, “Be well, my friend.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Stephen,” Hugh said cheerfully, raising his goblet in a toast.
Stefanos gave his friend a final nod and took his leave. There was no going back now. His plan had to work. If he failed, he would spend the rest of his life without her. And that was an unimaginable option.
Before meeting Francesca, Stefanos went to the palace garden and spoke with one of the gardeners, who was more than happy to oblige his romantic request, purportedly for a lover that Stefanos had invented. He walked quickly through the palace and up a flight of stairs, taking two at a time, to reach the attic room. Sunset was fast approaching, and he wanted to be there before Francesca arrived. Stefanos opened the door with an old key and walked in. No one had disturbed the two chairs and cushions he had managed to gather since he planned this clandestine meeting. To freshen the air, he opened a small door that led to a private area on the roof.
That morning he brought some food up for supper. It was not fine dining, but he did collect some dishes of olives, cheeses, nuts, and a loaf of rustic bread which he set on a small, cloth-covered table. He also placed a flagon of wine with two glasses and found an old pitcher, which would function as a vase for the flowers.
When he was satisfied, he walked out onto the rooftop and ensured their privacy. He was told this was a space created for the admiral’s late wife when she desired solitude for prayer and contemplation. Stefanos believed it was designed for a woman who craved privacy because she had a lover. He doubted if Francesca knew the truth about her mother, who, due to her fiery Italian background, was believed to have kept a stable of lovers. Maybe it was barracks gossip, but some of the older soldiers still talked about how insatiable she was. He could feel himself get hard as he thought about Francesca. She was innocent, and she probably had little idea about those things.
He returned to the room just as there was a soft knock on the door.
“Stefanos,” Francesca whispered as soon as he opened the door. She wore a deep blue gown with a gold brocade belt around her hips. Even though the neckline was respectably high, he could still make out the outline of her breasts. Her head was covered with the thin veil that most women wore in public.
“Come in,” he said with a smile, holding the door open for her to enter.
She entered the room and gasped when she walked to the table and admired the small bouquet of irises he placed there earlier. “You remembered,” she said, turning to give him a radiant smile.
“I remember everything about you. You love to read and roses make you sneeze,” Stefanos said, moving closer to her. “So how could I forget your favorite flower?”
“This is so thoughtful,” she said, her eyes darting around as she made sure they were alone.
“It’s safe,” Stefanos said in a reassuring voice. Reaching for Francesca’s hand, he said, “Come with me.”
Francesca placed her hand in his and gazed up into his eyes.
Without taking his eyes off her, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I want to show you something.”
Once outside, he took her to the lookout point. She leaned over the low wall, her eyes wide with excitement. The city below bustled with activity, and seemed so much louder from up high. “I used to hide in the attic as a child, but I’ve never looked out at the view.”
He took her by the shoulders and pointed her to the east. “There is the Golden Horn.” He then turned her to the west and said, “And in that direction is Greece. If you keep heading that way, you will eventually arrive on English soil.”
“Your home,” she said softly.
“It’s where I was born, but it’s not my home anymore,” he said, moving a strand of hair out of her face.
“Where is home, then?” she asked.
“Wherever you are.”
Francesca said in a hushed voice, “If someone sees us—”
“We won’t get caught; I promise you.”
She remained quiet, searching his eyes.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve looked forward to this night. I’ve wanted to be alone with you for a long time. Longer than you’ll ever know,” she said, turning away, her cheeks blushing. “It’s my last chance.”
“I feel the same way,” he said, lifting the veil away from her face and looking deeply into her eyes. He took her hand in his. “I love you, Francesca.”
Francesca looked up at him. “And I love you.”
He gathered her in his arms, kissing her tenderly at first, delighted when her lips parted for him and allowed his tongue to gently enter her mouth. Her passion for him was apparent in her kiss. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
In the background, the monks sang at prayer. The coldness this morning had disappeared and the evening was warm and the sky clear.
He broke their kiss and pointed at the approaching sunset, “Look, it’s the first sunset we’ll share together. It won’t be the last. I promise you,” he said, his hand cradling her cheek.
She said with tears in her eyes, “I don’t know how that’s possible.”
“I’ll explain later.” He wiped away her tears with his thumbs. He continued to listen to the beautiful hymn. “Do you know the name of this hymn?” he asked as a way of lightening the mood.
“No. The monks sing it every evening at Vespers. Why do you ask?”
“Because I want us to remember everything about the precise moment when I told you I loved you,” he said, kissing her cheek.
Francesca smiled at him and stroked his beard. “I’ve always wondered how your beard would feel, and now I know.” Her expression shifted to a frown. She was nervous again, as if she was uncertain about what happened next.
“I want to serve you tonight. I want to show you what it means to be loved by one who has adored you for so long.”
Francesca removed a small leather pouch from her pocket. Handing it to him, she said, “And I want you to have this. Please open it and tell me that you’ll always keep it with you.”
He opened the drawstring and removed a chain that held a gold cross inlaid with a vibrant blue stone.
Stefanos gazed at the cross and then lifted his eyes to hers. “This is too fine. I’m a soldier, Francesca, not a courtier.”
“Nonsense. It’s a gift, and you can’t give it back. Turn it over,” she said with excitement.
He turned it over and ran a finger over the engraved Greek letters. Shaking his head, he handed it back to her. “I can speak Greek, but I never learned to read. Tell me what it says.”
“It says, ‘May my cross provide courage and protection for Stefanos Varangopoulos Sebastos,’” she said as she took it from his hand and slipped the chain over his head. “Please wear this for me. I know you’re a fierce warrior, but I want to be sure you’re safe.”
Stefanos placed his hand over the cross. “You honor me.”
“I chose the blue stone because it reminds me of the eye color we share,” she said shyly.
He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. “I love you, Francesca. You are in all my dreams and all my waking thoughts.” He took her in his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. Her lips parted, as her tongue explored his. He groaned and nipped her lip. “I’m desperate for you. So many nights I’ve dreamed of kissing you like this.”
Francesca moaned as she pulled away. “We must stop. I can’t be gone too long. I told Anna I was attending evening Mass and then taking a walk in the garden before retiring,” she said with sadness.
“Anna trusts you because you’ve never given her any reason to doubt you. Besides, I’m your personal guard, and I promise to respect your virtue,” he said with a smile.
She seemed hesitant, saying with a nod, “Just for a little while longer.”
They spent their time together like the friends they were, talking freely as they always wanted to do. After they ate, Stefanos took some large cushions and lay them down outside on the rooftop. “Come,” he said, gesturing for her to join him as he sat down.
Francesca joined him on the cushions, laying down on her back and gazing up at the clear night sky. “So beautiful.”
Stefanos pointed to all the major constellations. When they were quiet, he gathered her into his arms and sang an old song.
“That’s lovely,” Francesca said, turning her face to his.
“My mother used to sing it to me when I was a child,” he said with a shrug.
When it got chilly, Stefanos got up and returned with a blanket, but Francesca got to her feet, ready to leave.
“Stay,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“I can’t. Tonight has been a wonderful respite, but there’s no point.”
“Please,” he held out his hand again, and she ran into his arms. They kissed, and this time it was more urgent as Francesca held him tightly, mewling between kisses. Stefanos guided her to the cushions again, and they lay down together. “I want to touch you,” he said, holding her close.
Francesca pulled away and nodded. “I want to touch you, too,” she said shyly, as her hands explored his body through his clothes. Her hands traveled down his torso to his thighs, and she gasped when she brushed against his arousal.
Without a word, Stefanos placed his hand over hers. “This is how a man feels when he wants to be with a woman he loves.” He thought he would spill his seed from the passion in her eyes. “Do you understand?”
Francesca licked her full bottom lip. “Yes, I’ve heard of such things,” she whispered and tentatively touched his cock through his trousers. Up and down her hand moved, until she stroked him more boldly.
“Francesca,” he moaned, nudging her hand away.
“I want you to touch me,” she said in a low voice. “Tell me where you have thought about touching me.”
Stefanos smiled, placing a hand gently over her breast. “Here first, but there are so many other places of your body I want to explore. I’ll be pleased to touch you here,” he said as his thumb found her nipple through the layers of clothes. “You like that,” he chuckled.
“Yes,” she said with a moan.
She might be a virgin, but she was filled with a passion that had yet to be revealed. She would be an exceptional partner in bed. He would have to force himself to stop because her virtue was important to him, and they had already gone too far.
Stefanos kissed her deeply and took her face in his hands. “My sweet Francesca. I can’t express how much I want you, but not here, not like this,” he said with a soft kiss.
She turned away.
“Francesca,” he said, taking her chin, and turning her face to his. “We have lots of time for love.”
“How?” she said in a whisper, her eyes spilling over with tears. “Tomorrow I’m marrying a man I hate, who has promised to hurt me if I disobey him.”
“Shh.” Stefanos gathered her in his arms. “What would you say if I told you I have a plan to leave Constantinople and never return?”
Francesca’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“I’m leaving in the morning, and you’re coming with me,” he said, scrutinizing her face for a reaction.
“How is that possible?”
“I’ve arranged to join a group of traders headed overland for Greece. I’ve been hired to protect them. We can marry when we get to Greece. We can either live there or keep traveling wherever you want to go. I’ve saved gold coins for years, so I can provide for you. I don’t care where we live as long as I’m with you.” He paused, waiting for her answer.
Francesca reached up and stroked his beard, surprising him by asking, “Did you know your left eye blinks slower than the right? Why is that?”
Stefanos laughed loudly and said, “I have no idea. My mother always told me it made me special, and right now I’m feeling very special.”
She joined him in laughter and leaned in to kiss him. Her kiss was bold as she took control of what she wanted from him. “Yes, I’ll go with you. Let’s get married in Greece. I want to be your wife, and I want you to make love to me every night.”
“Just at night?” he said, with a chuckle.
“I want to give you many sons,” she said, and then gave him a small frown. “Will I be able to have books?”
“Of course,” he answered with a wide grin. “I can teach our sons how to fight, but I also want our sons to read and speak many languages like their mother.”
“And will you keep inventing little songs to sing to me?”
“Francesca,” he moaned, taking her in his arms again and holding her tight. “I promise to sing to you every day if it makes you happy. We will begin a new life in Greece and have many sons, and daughters, too. I will be the happiest of men.”
“And I will be the happiest of women,” she said as she rested her head against his chest.
CHAPTER 1
Lucy
Justin found the key to Phil’s red Porsche Boxster and tossed their bags into the back. Lucy input Cassie’s grandmother’s address in Oia into her phone’s map app.
“So, tell me what you said to Granny.” Justin said, starting the car.
“Grandmother,” Lucy corrected. “She was friendly and eager to meet with us. Her name is Sophia Karras. Cassie calls her Yaya.”
“Yaya?” he asked, backing out of the garage.
“Yaya is Greek for ‘grandmother.’”
“So, tell me about Yaya.” Justin took a look at the map and turned onto the road.
“According to Cassie and Melina, Sophia is a powerful psychic. She lives alone and rarely gives readings. I think we’re lucky she’s agreed to see us.”
As he drove, Lucy shuffled through the satellite radio stations, stopping when “Into the Mystic” came on the acoustic channel. It was one of the songs Justin performed at Rocky’s in Santa Monica. She leaned back into her seat, her thoughts drifting to that night. They had left together and walked down the beach to her cottage. It was the first time they kissed. She didn’t realize it at the time, but the song was a perfect metaphor for what they were doing by going to see Sophia.
“I remember that night, too.” Justin lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss. He let it go to keep both hands on the wheel.
Lucy returned her attention to the music. She closed her eyes and let the poetry of the lyrics wash over her. She had always been someone who valued control and planned every aspect of her life. She was taking an enormous leap of faith to follow her instincts. She and Justin had a shared history of violent nightmares, and since they had met those dreams had occasionally intensified. In other ways, they felt a sense of contentment just by being near each other.
As they approached Oia, the empty landscape shifted to clusters of homes—almost on top of each other—on the side of a cliff. It was so different from the sprawling estates she was used to in California.
Lucy’s pulse increased at the thought of meeting Sophia Karras. Would this meeting change anything about their future? Or, was the past better left in the past?
“We're here,” Justin said as he parked, and shut off the engine. He looked calm, but Lucy noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch. He was as nervous as she was.
She looked carefully at him, tracing his lips gently with her fingertips and smiling.
Justin held her gaze as if he was trying to figure out what she was thinking.
“I’m ready,” Lucy said in a soft voice. “Let's go meet our past.”
It was getting late, but the evening was still warm. Justin held Lucy's hand as they climbed a series of stairs that led up to Sophia’s home. The street was narrow, and each home was whitewashed with brightly colored doors and flowers in planter boxes. They lived close together, but there was likely a strong sense of community between neighbors.
Lucy listened to the sound of their footsteps on the cobblestones that was lit by soft halogen lights. As they walked together, the scent of exotic foods and the sound of laughter, music, and babies crying from the homes they passed declared the abundance of life in this cliffside village.
Justin stopped in front of one of the whitewashed homes, this one with a sky-blue door. “This is it.”
She looked up at him as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Leaning in to kiss Lucy’s cheek, Justin whispered, “I love you, and nothing we learn here tonight will ever change that. I want us to build a future together, not solve the problems of the past.”
“I feel the same way,” she replied, her eyes searching his in the dim light.
