Page 22 of Her Greek Protector

There were links to several past students’ work and she scrolled through the images, frowning at how poor some of the pictures were. The lighting was off and the angles seemed wrong in several of the photographs. And yet, these people were being paid to take pictures! There was a link to a local freelance website and she clicked on it, wondering what kind of money a photographer could make.

“Geez! I take better pictures than that. I can’t believe these people are getting paid several hundred dollars for an hour’s worth of photography. I barely make that pounding the pavement and making phone calls ten hours a day.” The red button in the bottom right hand corner drew her eye and she bit her lip. “I don’t have any formal training, but I could do this. I could put myself out there and take pictures of people for money. I certainly couldn’t do any worse than these other people.”

She tapped her fingers on the edge of the computer for a moment. “Why not? The worst that could happen is people don’t like my pictures and I’m out a little bit of my time. But if they like my work…” Without giving herself time to think of reasons not to do this, she clicked the button and started submitting her information. Thirty minutes later she was finished and received a congratulatory message saying her services would be up and ready for the viewing public within the next hour.

Her hands were shaking slightly when she realized what a big step she’d just taken. She started to close out the various screens on her Internet browser, and then she came to the page advertising the photography school.If I’m going to do this right, I should get some sort of formal training. I might learn a thing or two.

She clicked on the button to submit an application, filled in the pertinent information, and then clicked submit. A new page opened, outlining the next steps for becoming part of the school, including an entire page devoted to the fees and tuition.

Aimee read the numbers several times. “There is no way I can come up with that kind of money in the next six-weeks!” Six thousand dollars probably wasn’t a lot of money for this type of specialized education, but it was six thousand dollars she didn’t have. Disheartened, she closed her computer down and then turned to check on Damien. He was still sleeping soundly and she grabbed the bedside monitor and carried it with her out of the room.

Each suite of rooms on the second floor of the large estate had a private entrance to a large balcony that extended the length of each side of the structure. Large columns supported the balcony from below, and Aimee found herself opening the doors and stepping out into the sun. She walked to the railing and closed her eyes, trying to dispel the sadness that wanted to crush her excitement of the last half hour.

“It figures. Just when I finally decide to step out on a limb, it breaks and I’m left dangling in mid-air.”

“That sounds very dangerous, indeed,” a rough masculine voice said from the shadows to her left.

Aimee spun around and squinted in the glare from the sun. “Alexi?” He was the only other person living on this side of the house with access to the balcony.

“Nai.”

Aimee moved towards his voice. “What are you doing out here? Kassi said you went into work…”

“I came home, as you can plainly see.” There was a slight edge to his voice.

Aimee felt her hackles rise. She turned without a word.

Before she’d taken two steps back towards her own door, his voice stopped her. “Lígo machití,do not go away mad. I’m sorry. Stay and talk with me.”

She stopped immediately, angry when she realized what she’d done.The new Aimee doesn’t let any man tell her what to do!Aimee took a deep breath and then turned around. “Fine.” She returned to where he was still sitting in the shadows. “Why are you hiding there? You should come sit in the sunshine.”

“Okhi.”

“Hey! I know that word now. Your mother taught it to me not very long ago.” She stepped closer to him. “Do you not like the sun?”

“Not when my head feels as if it’s going to split into a million pieces.”

“Oh! You have another headache.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did you take anything for it?”

“I do not like feeling drugged up.”

“I’ll take that as a negative. Maybe you should go lie down and try to sleep. That might help.”

“I am not tired, just tired of hurting. You could help.”

“I could?” She stopped right beside his chair and squatted down so that she could see his face. “How?”

“That thing you did with my hands…it really did help.”

“I just used the pressure points in your palm to help relieve some of the pressure on the nerves in your head.”

Without a word, Alexi extended his hand to her.

She reached for it, losing her balance in the process and falling against his thighs. Breaking her fall with her free hand, she found it placed precariously close to his groin. Her heart was beating so quickly, she wondered if he could hear it.

She stammered out an apology—“Sygnómi”—and tried to move away from him, but he refused to let go of her.

“What are you sorry for?” He took the hand placed so close to his groin and moved it up to the middle of his chest.