Free Greek's Last Redemption by Caitlin Crews

reaction to Theo to the time change and the wine she’d drunk while waiting for him to appear.
    Tomorrow will feel better
, she told herself fiercely, the way she had when she was a kid and she’d worked so hard to help her father save their battered old ranch, as little as it had been worth saving. The way she had when she’d been a teenager and had finally realized that her mother, who’d taken off with a minor rodeo star when Holly was six, had no intention of ever coming back or making things right. The way she had when she was older still and her father had been in the hospital, so frail and yet still so stubborn, and he’d refused to take the money she’d made.
    The way she had in those early days after she’d left Greece and her marriage and Theo behind and had thought it might actually kill her, how much it hurt.
    And if the next day hadn’t actually been any better, well, eventually a day dawned that had been slightly more bearable. As far as Holly could tell so far, life was all about holding on until that next, nonterrible day, and sometimes that took a while.
    Why should this be any different?
    She ate the exquisite food they whisked up to her, seated out on her small balcony, in the midst of all the magic of a Barcelona night. The lights, the energy, which she could almost taste in the air around her. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back and let it all flow into her. Then, when she’d finished gorging herself on the local cuisine, she drew herself a bath in the luxurious, claw-footed tub and soaked herself until she was calm and shriveled in equal measure.
    It was after midnight when Holly brushed out her hair, rubbed cream into her skin and then crawled into her bed, confident she’d drift off at once and sleep like a log until morning.
    But instead she lay there, wide awake and scowling at her ceiling.
    Theo was here. In this same city, right now.
    Right now.
    Out in one of the clubs, dripping with all of those beautiful Spanish women, and still as furious with her as he’d been four years ago.
    She couldn’t stand it.
    Holly was up and out of the bed before she knew she meant to move. She ransacked the wardrobe she’d brought with her, pulling on a short skirt and pairing it with a pair of dramatic wedges that laced up around her calves and made her legs look edibly long, and then tossing on a filmy, slithery top she usually only wore to the beach. She raked her hands through her hair and let it turn into thick waves, added some drama and mystery to her eyes, and when she was done, she looked a great deal more like the half-gypsy traveler she’d been four and a half years ago than the elegant member of elite society she’d been pretending she was since.
    She told herself that was merely a coincidence.
    But deep inside, down low in her belly and lower still, where she was still nothing but a wild heat and all of it for Theo the way it always had been and always would be, she knew better.
    She always knew better.
    * * *
    Holly found him in the third club she visited and, by then, it was well after two in the morning and Barcelona was only just getting started. This particular club was on a little stretch with several others down near the water. She’d peered into several of its scattered VIP rooms before she heard the unmistakable sound of his laughter from behind a group of scantily clad young girls, all dancing suggestively.
    Or maybe she’d imagined it, she thought after a moment, looking around the moodily lit room and not seeing anything. Not seeing Theo. There were only beautiful people dancing another endless Spanish night away, carefree and heedless, and there was a part of her that didn’t want to find Theo at all. A part of her that wanted nothing more than to melt into the driving, soaring music and let it carry her off to whatever place all these people inhabited with such apparent ease. Somewhere that hurt less. Somewhere