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and also to Athens, and the time began to drift by as if they were old friends. And at ten o'clock they both remembered that they hadn't eaten. Andreas insisted on taking her to a restaurant nearby, which turned out to be a beautiful little place with marvelous food. When he brought her back to the hotel at one o'clock in the morning, she was exhausted and happy, and felt like a different woman than when she'd arrived. She tried to share the feelings with him, but he only hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks. “Never mind, Vanessa. It is I who thank you. I shall see you tomorrow. Does that suit you? We'll go and take pictures on the Acropolis, if you'd like that.” She could think of nothing better. They said good night again, and she went back to her room.

She found herself musing over things he had said, as she undressed slowly, and she found her mind full of him as she fell asleep. The prospect of waiting two weeks to meet Charlotte still didn't thrill her, but at least for a few days she could spend some time with Andreas, and after that she'd have to see.

When she awoke the next morning, the maid was bringing in an enormous bouquet of flowers. They were fragrant and brilliantly hued in a big handsome white vase, and Vanessa looked stunned. The card said only WELCOME, ENJOY YOUR STAY, ANDREAS, but she was very touched and told him so when he picked her up. He was driving a large silver Mercedes, and in die backseat he had a whole basket of Greek goodies for her to eat. In addition he had brought along for her a picnic basket, in case they didn't want to go back to eat. She looked at him strangely for a moment, as though she didn't understand him, and he met her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Why are you so good to me, Andreas?” Perhaps he felt sorry for her, or he felt an obligation, but there was something very different in his eyes.

“For one thing, you are a very lovely young woman, possibly the loveliest I've ever seen. For another thing, I care about you, Vanessa. I did a long time ago when you were a child.” How blessed she had been then to have two men who had cared so much about her. Teddy, and perhaps even this man. “You were special to me even then.”

“But you don't know me now.” She was still puzzled, and she wanted to know what he saw.

But he looked at her very deeply. “I do know you, little one. I knew what was happening to you then, and I can see what has happened to you now.” It was almost like having a father, and yet it was not like that at all. He was unusual and special and terribly attractive, she felt herself being swept away on a current she didn't understand at all.

“How can you see what has happened?” She tried to look amused, but she was not.

“I can see it in your eyes.”

“What do you see, Andreas?” She spoke softly and he stopped the car and pulled off the road.

“I see how much you have been hurt, Vanessa. I see what Vasili must have done to you as a child. It is as though something in you has been beaten.” And then, in a matter-of-fact voice, “I can also see that you're afraid of men.” She started to deny it, and then, feeling defeated, she shook her head.

“Does it show so easily, then?”

“No.” He smiled at her and looked more handsome than ever. “I'm just a very wise man.”

“Be serious.” She began to laugh at him and he laughed too.

“I am serious.” And then he turned toward her and asked a question that shocked her. “Are you still a virgin, Vanessa?”

“I … no …” She blushed beet-red and looked away.

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not.” And then after a moment's pause, softly, “I am.”

“Is there someone you love?” It was odd to be answering all these questions he asked her, and yet she wanted to. It was as though she wanted to give herself to him.

“Maybe. I don't know. I haven't made up my mind.”

“But you haven't gone to bed with him?”

She sighed softly. “I can't.” And then as they drove into the hills around Athens she told him how it was with her and men —how she'd feel afraid when they got too close to her

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