"I know, Anthony," Jasmine whispered softly, her dark eyes looking up into his. "I love how much you care about me. But I'm strong enough to handle a flight of stairs. You don't have to carry the weight of the world—or my stamina—all by yourself."
Anthony let out a low, rueful chuckle, his large hands coming up to cup her face, his thumbs gently brushing her cheekbones.
"Deal," Anthony conceded softly, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "No more crisis protocols. Just a stubborn architect and her very flawed husband walking down to the water."
Jasmine smiled, leaning up to kiss him properly. "Good. Now lead the way to the taverna, Mr. de Mercer. I'm starving."
The heavy wooden doors of the villa swung shut, sealing out the relentless glare of the Greek sun and the bustling
