Chapter 15

Spyros sat on the bed cross-legged as Michael stood at the window, watching the snow outside. They could still hear the wind howling.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be leaving here anytime soon,” he commented.

“No.” Spyros murmured. He couldn’t take his eyes off the man. He sipped his drink. “Think you can close the curtains? It can keep the heat in.”

Michael paused. Then he drew the curtains across, casting the room in darkness. Spyros tapped at his bedside lamp, turning it on to the highest setting.

“I grew up in Sheffield,” he commented as he leant back against the headboard. “We saw snow, but never like this.”

“I thought you grew up in Greece.”

“I’m Greek, but my parents came to England before I was born.” Spyros shrugged. “I spend practically all my holidays in Greece, though.”

Michael’s mouth twitched, then it was hidden by his mug.

“I bet you never saw snow in Greece.”

“Not really.” Spyros watched Michael as he stood half in the shadows. “Where did you grow up?”