At least I was no longer thinking about my fear of heights.

“We met at an extreme beard and mustache competition,” Yiayia continued, heedless of the mound of mental floss I was adding to my shopping list. “Fergus beat me. The first time I’ve faced a worthy opponent since puberty.”

Yiayia!”

“What? I can say puberty. There, I said it again. Puberty, puberty, puberty. Speaking of which, where’s your young man?”

I didn’t even want to think how those two things—Armani and puberty—connected up in her brain.

“He went to freshen up. I’d, ah, better check on him,” I said, retreating like the hounds of Hades were nipping at my heels.

I hurried back through the restaurant and to the elevator, using the time it took to arrive to collect myself.

Yiayia dating.

Hermes and Christie dating.

Apollo and Serena…dating?

My brother on the prowl.

What was it about weddings?

As I stepped into the elevator and contemplated which number to press, I realized I had no idea what room I was going to and no way to call Nick. Yes, finally, finally, it was Nick. With my whole family gone crazy…er than usual, he was the most familiar and least insane thing in my world. Unfortunately, we’d only arranged for one of our phones to work in Greece, figuring we’d be together the whole time and didn’t need the extra expense. I rode the elevator to the lobby, calling Jesus on the way down, knowing he had an international calling plan already.

“Hey, where’s Nick,” I asked, burning to get to him and a semblance of normalcy.

“In your room, I’d guess,” he answered.

“Right, which would be?”

“Oh, number 501.”

“Thanks.”

I disconnected, rode the elevator back up to floor five and knocked on the first door to the left—501. Right next to the elevators. Oh joy. I hoped they were quieter on the outside than on the inside. Nick opened the door at my knock and stood in the entrance in a white dress shirt open down the front, exposing an incredibly nice chest with equally nice abs. I stepped right up to that chest and wrapped my arms around him. Nick eased back into the room, pulling me with him and closing the door behind us.

“You okay?” he asked. He stroked my hair and held me to him, resting his chin on the top of my head, because while I was not diminutive, Nick was tall enough to make me look semi-petite. Or maybe it was being overwhelmed that made me feel small. I listened to his heartbeat and let his breath stir my hair, so content for a moment that I forgot he’d asked a question that required an answer.

“I am now,” I said.

I felt him smile against the top of my head. It made me smile back.

“But—” he said for me.

“But…you know that part in a story summary where it pretty much boils down to and wackiness ensues?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s ensuing.”

He pushed me back from him gently and smoothed the hair away from my face—pushed it aside, anyway. Actually smoothing or taming my vipers’ nest of hair would probably take years of training, not to mention a bullwhip. If Nick could truly accomplish that, he’d fit right in with my family of circus folk. Thank gods he didn’t.

He looked straight into my eyes, his own deep blue lit with amusement and, possibly, a four-letter word I wasn’t yet ready to contemplate. It began with an “l” and ended with commitment.

“Let me just button up, and I’ll help you face the insanity. I’m looking forward to it, actually.”

I smiled back at him, all gorgeous and refreshed as he was, and realized that as little as I usually cared about appearances, I was going to have to step up my game. “Give me a minute to regroup,” I told him.

I dragged my suitcase into the bathroom and did the best I could to make myself presentable, including the world’s fastest shower. At least Christie’s spa day had given me a head start. Even my eyebrows were more or less under control.

When I stepped out twenty minutes later, I was wearing a dress the color of a tawny port that made my amber eyes seem almost gold, low wedge sandals Christie had made me buy, and some smoky eyeshadow. I looked as good as I was going to get, which, even I had to admit, wasn’t half bad. I was no Serena Banks, but I would do.

Nick whistled, and I forced myself not to look around for the cause.

“Thank you,” I said, flushing. Not blushing. “Shall we go?”

Nick got to the door of the room before me and reached for it. “Anything I should know?” he asked.

“I think I’m going to let it be a surprise,” I said mischievously. “Jesus coming with us?”

“He’s right across the hall. He says to knock when we’re ready.”

We knocked and, for a wonder, Jesus was ready. He wore a shirt the color of which I didn’t know how to describe—as if lavender had a pinker twin sister—and a diagonally striped tie the same shade, but deeper and darker, together with bands of deep blue and white. He looked like an Easter egg, but then, what did I know? No doubt it was all designer. Certainly, it fit him like a glove, the shirt like it was tailored for him, showing off the many hours he spent in the gym doing Zumba or hot yoga or whatever the cool kids were doing this week.

“Oh wait, my cuff links!” he said when he was halfway to the door. He was back a second later with a pair of silver and blue cufflinks that…

“Is that lapis?” I asked him. Because the swirl in the Greek key pattern of the cuffs was the exact blue of the stripe in his tie, the color of Armani’s eyes, and the gorgeous lapis lazuli Greece was famous for. “Did you buy those just for the trip?”

Jesus looked away, and I had a sudden suspicion. “It was a bribe, wasn’t it? To work for Apollo.”

He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Maybe.”

I rolled my eyes, since staring him down wasn’t doing any good.

“Jesus.”

“Bosslady,” he said with the same amount of exasperation. “You don’t pay me enough to afford nice things. And anyway, he didn’t have to bribe me. Who could resist a free trip to Greece? I just didn’t want him to think I was easy.”

Nick snorted, and I shot him a look. “You’re not helping.”

He held up his hands as if to say that I should leave him out of it, but his amusement didn’t ebb.

I threw my own hands up into the air, an expression that always made me think about having to catch them on the way back down.

Then I grabbed each man by the crook of the arm and escorted them to the terrace—until the narrowness of the stairs forced me to let them go. When we got to the top I regained Nick’s arm and let Jesus fend for himself.

Nick didn’t slow as we hit the terrace and saw Yiayia with her young man, but he did mumble an, “Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” under his breath.

I smiled. As I’d known it would, having him there, even more disconcerted than I was, relaxed me. I could enjoy his reactions instead of focusing on my own. Meeting my family was definitely a spectator sport.

“You’re enjoying this,” he accused me.

“Yup.”

Madre de dios,” Jesus said behind us, and I turned, already anticipating the reaction I’d see on his face.

And…it wasn’t what I’d expected.

He looked gobsmacked, all right, but he wasn’t looking in the right place. I followed his gaze across the

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