The Bed You Make
Chapter 38, continued
It had been too long since he'd enjoyed the pleasure of being home. Over the past few years he'd traveled to Greece because of business or the occasional family event. But he hadn't just … come home.
“This was really nice,” Dara interrupted his musings. “I enjoyed it.”
“You are welcome. But today's outing constitutes only a tiny portion of the estate,” Stefan corrected her. “There is quite a bit more to be seen.”
Dara leaned against him. “Undoubtedly,” she acknowledged. “That doesn't negate the niceness of this afternoon.”
Stefan enjoyed the companionable silence that followed. He found himself sifting through the dusty vault of his childhood for memories to share with Dara. It was not an easy task, considering that the main criterion for selection was illumination without revelation. He wanted her to understand his love for Greece and all things Cassadine, but he did not want to grant his bride any insight into his psyche that might make manipulating her a more difficult task.
“How is it,” Dara marveled, “that just riding a horse builds up such an appetite?”
Stefan guided Semyon back onto the trail. The stallion had burned off his excess energy on the initial leg of the trip but still broke into an insolent canter every now and then just to test Stefan's control. While he'd been occupied talking to Dara, Semyon had taken the opportunity to move toward more challenging terrain.
“You may wish to have Mrs. Landsbury supply a small tray of fresh fruit when we return to the mansion. I would not suggest anything larger,” Stefan added. “Arrangements have been made for the two of us to dine at a local restaurant tonight.”
"Another of your favorite spots?" Dara asked.
"A family holding. The chef is a lesser cousin trained at La Roche in Switzerland. Though," Stefan smiled faintly, "he readily admits that his craft was honed to its current brilliance because of time spent serving in Mrs. Landsbury's kitchen."
"You sound fond of him." Stefan could hear the mild surprise in his wife's voice.
"We are nearly the same age. As boys we spent quite a bit of time in near proximity to one another."
Semyon chose that moment to kick up his heels a bit. They had just arrived within seeing distance of the stables. The big horse was taking the opportunity to make his riders aware that his generosity was coming to an end; he had grown tired of their presence upon his broad back. "I'm having a bit of trouble," Dara's arms tightened about Stefan's waist, "interpreting 'close proximity'. Is that your way of saying the two of you used to play together when you were little?"
"Because we were of the same age, my father Mikkos thought to have him groomed to be my personal servant as we grew older. Fortunately, Philip discovered his culinary talent and that plan was discarded."
"Well then," Dara replied, "I look forward to meeting him. Maybe I'll get lucky and hear some stories about little Stefan Cassadine," she teased.
Stefan deliberately turned his head and allowed his wife to see his raised brow. It was a gesture he knew both amused and infuriated Dara. "I would not, as you say, hold my breath."
