Книга - Greek Boss, Dream Proposal

Greek Boss, Dream Proposal
Barbara McMahon








Greek Boss, Dream Proposal


Barbara McMahon




















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#ueed1818b-23d1-593b-abec-940d817e94ac)

Title (#uf93cd2fd-3948-5b06-b6a9-4e062948c581)

About the Author (#u972c42c3-6711-531e-b534-884a08ee5d43)

Dedication (#ua9b485da-337b-596f-8eee-062a6aa109a4)

Chapter One (#u2806d658-9d32-517b-962d-344f9f9cc9ac)

Chapter Two (#u1b0247a0-82b9-5707-9ab7-050e2c47a7fe)

Chapter Three (#u59e38df1-9082-5b95-a915-29c5ee9f35c5)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Barbara McMahon was born and raised in the South USA, but settled in California after spending a year flying around the world for an international airline. After settling down to raise a family and work for a computer firm, she began writing when her children started school. Now, feeling fortunate in being able to realise a long-held dream of quitting her ‘day job’ and writing full time, she and her husband have moved to the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, where she finds her desire to write is stronger than ever. With the beauty of the mountains visible from her windows, and the pace of life slower than the hectic San Francisco Bay Area where they previously resided, she finds more time than ever to think up stories and characters and share them with others through writing. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at PO Box 977, Pioneer, CA 95666-0977, USA. Readers can also contact Barbara at her website: www.barbaramcmahon.com



Dear Reader



Come with me to an adventure in the beautiful land of Greece. It’s long been a place of fascination for me, and I dream about going there one day to soak up the sunshine and beauty of the landscape. To lie on pristine beaches and tour historic sites. Until that time, I use the places I’ve visited around the Med to picture how sailing the Aegean would be, how the breezes would feel and how the dynamic and gorgeous Greek men would look. What would be more fun than to travel the Aegean in a luxury yacht, visit quaint isles for their history, or colourful markets with fabulous bargains? All on the arm of a sexy Greek man, of course. As a vacation locale, could we find a better spot? So, come visit Greece with Sara and Nikos, and be swept away on a mini-holiday that will give you the feel of an exotic land we may all one day see.



Love



Barbara


To Ruth Johnson, with love and friendship.You make being in the NSDAR even more special!


CHAPTER ONE

SARA ANDROPOLOUS leaned over to view the pastry from all angles. It looked perfect. Satisfied, she slid it onto one of the delicate china plates and drizzled a bit of honey on top. Two mint leaves completed the presentation and she smiled. One down, five more to do in less than five minutes.

Working swiftly, she finished the last in less than the allotted time. Perfection.

She’d been on her feet for five hours, yet she felt as fresh as if she’d just started. She loved creating works of art for consumption. Time flew, and she was absorbed in her work to the exclusion of all else.

“See how this pleases your guests,” she murmured in a one-sided imaginary conversation with Nikos Konstantinos.

When Sara had first arrived in Greece four months ago, her temporary assignment at the τραγο´υϖδι αο´ερα, Windsong Hotel, several miles from Thessalonika had seemed like an answer to prayer. She’d been trying to find a way to get a toehold in Greece for so long, it was amazing to her how swiftly things had fallen into place. No one suspected her real intent. The sudden opportunity to move to Greece had been impossible to refuse. She’d left her friends, sublet her flat, and headed for the Aegean with one thought in mind—find a way to make contact with her grandmother, Eleani Konstantinos.

As the yacht gently bobbed on the sea, Sara wondered for the nth time if she were really any closer to her goal. It had seemed meant to be when her friend Stacy had discovered that Sara’s grandmother had remarried and found where she had been living all these years. When Stacy had then told her five months ago about an opening at the exclusive Greek resort owned by the grandson of the man her grandmother had married, Sara had applied instantly for the job. Amazingly, she’d been hired within two weeks of her first interview. Being Greek herself and knowing the language had been a big plus. But she also liked to think her accomplishments had commanded the attention of the interviewer. The lavish salary she was getting indicated they expected no less than outstanding work.

So far things had progressed better than she’d expected. After only four months in Greece, it was nothing short of miraculous that she’d been promoted to temporary chef on Nikos Konstantinos’s luxury yacht. With any luck, at some point, they would put in at the island his family owned—the key to getting to her grandmother. How she was to accomplish the next step was beyond her at the moment. Still, she was closer than ever. Time would present the opportunity she needed.

Stretching her muscles, she placed the desserts on the elegant silver tray and put it on the open area of the counter where the steward would pick it up to deliver to the guests in the main dining salon. It was after nine and she was just about finished for the day. She felt revved up, wide-awake and not at all ready to go to bed, though she’d been up before six every morning to prepare breakfast.

The chef on the yacht Cassandra had become suddenly ill with appendicitis, and she’d been selected to fill the role until he recovered. As the chief chef at the resort had explained when selecting her for the assignment, their boss, resort owner Nikos Konstantinos, had guests expected for a week’s cruise around the Aegean and needed someone versatile enough for all meals and desserts. The chief chef had recommended her even though she was the newest member of the kitchen staff. She still couldn’t believe her luck. At this rate she’d finally meet her grandmother before the month was out!

Her intelligence unit, as she called her friends in London who had rallied round to help her get to Greece once they’d learned of her goal, were certain her mother’s mother was living on the Konstantinos family island in the Aegean. Strategically isolated for privacy, the island offered no way to gain access unless a family member brought guests. Since her letter had been returned unopened, her phone call refused and no e-mail address available, she knew no one would vouch for her. To the contrary, she suspected if she petitioned Nikos Konstantinos directly, he’d have her fired on the spot and erect even stronger barriers between her and her grandmother. She was not going to put that to the test. She’d find a way onto the island on her own.

If she could just meet the woman, maybe she could ignore some of that stiff Greek pride that apparently ran rampant in her mother’s family and tell Eleani Konstantinos about her daughter’s death, and the last words her mother had said—how she wished she could have reconciled with her parents. It had been too late by the time Damaris Andropolous had uttered those words. She had died two days later.

Sara wanted to carry them back, heal a breach that had split the family for almost thirty years. She had been working more than a year to achieve that aim to fulfill the promise she had made to her mother just before she died.

Was the end really in sight?

Looking back, the best thing her mother had ever done was insist Sara learn Greek. Most of their family friends in London had been of Greek descent, a close-knit community of Greek expats who had loved to celebrate special occasions together. Her friend Stacy swore she loved the English lifestyle more than anything, yet she, too, had studied their ancestors’ language. Sara knew her fluency in Greek had landed her this job, she was sure of it. She had had no difficulty in adapting to life at the resort. It was a delightful change from the rainy weather she’d left in London and she’d thrown herself into her job with determination that had obviously paid off.

As she put the pots and bowls she’d used to prepare the evening meal in the sink to soak, Sara thought about how she’d approach her grandmother—if she got the chance. Stacy had been a font of information, relying on the gossip of her own cousins who still lived in Greece. Sara’s grandfather had died several years ago, and Eleani had remarried Spiros Konstantinos, head of the legendary Konstantinos Shipping empire. Sara had scrambled to find out as much information as she could about the family, only to come up with very little.

They obviously used a good deal of the money they made ensuring privacy.

“I’m late. Sorry. Won’t happen again,” Stefano said as he swooped up the tray of desserts. The steward was late at least once a day—and always claiming it wouldn’t happen again. She had gotten used to it and if Nikos Konstantinos didn’t care, she certainly didn’t.

“Looks delicious, as usual. I’ll get it up to the guests.” He talked so fast Sara sometimes had trouble understanding him. She made sure he had all he needed for the guests, then began preparing a tray for the crew.

When Stefano returned, he leaned against the door and let out a long breath. “So the daughter is turning up her charm. I suspect this is a cruise to ensure the lovely Gina Fregulia and Nikos have a chance to get to know each other better. Her father is hinting for marriage, you know. And it doesn’t seem as if Nikos is resisting at all.”

“Now how would you know that?” Sara asked as she worked. She silently urged him to continue. The more she knew about the Konstantinos family, the better able she’d be to deal with them, she thought.

“It’s no secret. The man’s thirty-four years old. Past time to marry and start a family, else who will inherit all the money?”

Sara looked up at that. “You’re thirty-five. Are you married?”

Stefano laughed. “It’s different for me. I get to see beautiful women every day. Sail the Aegean on every cruise. Maybe I will settle down one day. But I don’t have two fortunes to leave when I die.”

“Two?”

“Nikos didn’t follow his father and grandfather into shipping. But he’s still the sole heir after his father. He’s making a small fortune in his own right with the resort and all the collateral businesses. Wish I had some of that money.”

“I’m sure we all do. Actually, we get some by doing our work properly,” Sara said mischievously, smiling at the steward.

“I meant, have it to spend without working. It’ll be interesting to see how the relationship between Miss Fregulia and the boss pans out.”

“Do you think it won’t?” Sara asked, curious. She longed to ask a dozen questions, but didn’t want to give rise to suspicion.

Stefano gave a shrug. “The way I hear it, Nikos loved his first fiancée. I never knew the full story of the breakup, but for a long time, he had the temper of a bear. Arranged marriages are a bit passé for those of us in the regular world, but in the world of huge fortunes, not so uncommon. I think Nikos Konstantinos will marry for the good of the resort, and to provide heirs for the fortunes. The Fregulias are big in wine in Italy. Their fortunes surely match those of Nikos. At least he doesn’t worry about being married for his money. I predict a match made in business.”

“An oracle,” Sara said, finishing the last touch on the desserts for the crew. “I wish them happy.” A happy Nikos meant a more amiable man if she ever had to call on him for access to her grandmother.

“I expect Gina Fregulia will be happy if she gets her hands on Nikos’s millions.”

“Thought you said she was wealthy.”

“Her father is, subtle difference. Nikos will be the prize,” Stefano said.

Sara shook her head. Stefano called their boss by his first name around the staff, but she knew he’d have infinitely more respect when in the presence of Nikos Konstantinos. At least she thought he would. She had yet to meet the man. Didn’t care much one way or another if she ever met him, as long as his yacht docked on the family island at some time while she was still aboard.

“The captain won’t be having dessert. He’s returned to the helm to relieve the mate. This looks nice for the crew,” Stefano said as he lifted the second, less elaborate, tray full of delicious pastries.

“We should have our food as nicely presented as the guests,” Sara said, putting the finishing garnishment on the last plate.

Sara followed Stefano to the aft deck where a table had been set up for the crew to use. Those already seated had left her a place at the end since she didn’t normally join them until dessert. Except for Stefano, the rest of the men were around her mother’s age. They had probably sailed on the Konstantinos yacht for years.

Sara relaxed slightly. Her duties for the day were completed. The gentle breeze that swept by as the yacht plowed through the sea made it most pleasant to be outside. It was a cool relief from the hot kitchen. The stars were growing brilliant against the darkening sky. Only the running lights from the yacht and the illumination spilling from the salon disturbed the velvet darkness.

Once she’d finished eating, she considered relaxing on one of the loungers and just studying the sky. With little ambient light, the stars seemed to multiply. She saw more each night than she’d ever seen in London.

They’d be stopping at anchor soon. The Aegean rocked the boat gently each night. She loved it. Maybe she should consider looking for a permanent berth on some ship once her task had been completed.

“Thank you,” one of the crew said as he rose. “It’s good.”

One by one the others rose and thanked her. Sara was beaming when Stefano left to clean the kitchen. He’d removed all the dishes and utensils, leaving the table bare, except for her glass of water.

One of the men went to sit near the aft rail, gazing out across the sea. The others left, presumably to other tasks or for an early bedtime.

Sara enjoyed the night air for a short time, then went back to the galley to check on preparations for breakfast. Once she had that done, she’d call it a night.

She had been longer on the aft deck than she thought. The galley was gleaming. Stefano had finished and vanished. She would have enjoyed some company in the quiet space while she mentally reviewed the checklist for the ingredients she would need to bake individual quiches for breakfast. She’d make a pan of sweet rolls and cut up fresh fruit. The larder of the galley was bigger than the pantry she had in her flat. The yacht was spacious and outfitted to suit the most discriminating tastes.

Humming as she double-checked everything, Sara was startled when she heard the door open behind her. Turning, she stopped in surprise. No doubt about it, Nikos Konstantinos had come to the galley.

In a land where all men seemed to be handsome, she was momentarily taken aback. Feeling tongue-tied like an idiot schoolgirl, she could only stare for a long moment, feeling every sense come to attention as she gazed at him. He had wavy black hair and a tan that spoke of hours in the Aegean sun. Dark eyes gravely regarded her. He seemed to fill the doorway, his head barely clearing the lintel. He was over six feet, with broad shoulders and a trim physique. The white dinner jacket he wore seemed out of place on a ship, yet suited him to perfection. Bemused, Sara wished her friend Stacy could see how the rich dressed for dinner—even on a private yacht. This man would take the crown for good looks. She felt a frisson of attraction, and the surprise shocked her out of her stupor. He’d think she was an idiot if she didn’t say something.

“Can I help you?” she asked. For a moment she felt a pull like a magnet’s force field, drawing her closer. Looking away for a scant second, she was vaguely pleased to note her feet were still where they had been. She hadn’t made a fool of herself by closing the gap between them.

“You are the chef replacing Paul?” he asked in disbelief.

Sara almost groaned in delight at the husky, sexy tone of his deep voice. She wanted to close her eyes and ask him to recite some lengthy passage just to hear him speak. But Sara Andropolous was made of sterner stuff. Tilting her head slightly, she gave a polite smile, ignoring her racing heart and replied, “I am.”

Be very wary, she warned herself. This man held the key to the Konstantinos family island. She dared not do anything to jeopardize that. But for an instant she forgot all of that as she took in his stunning good looks. The tingling awareness seemed to grow with each tick of the clock.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “I had not expected a woman so young,” he said softly.

“Age has little to do with accomplishments,” Sara replied, her back up now. What, a woman still in her twenties, though barely, couldn’t be as great a chef as one in her fifties? So much for instant attraction. Reality slapped her in the face. He came from the same world that had ended so cruelly for her mother thirty years ago. What did he know of deprivation, hardship, heartache? Or working one’s butt off to get ahead? She’d fought long and hard to achieve the level she had attained. Age had nothing to do with it. Sheer dog-headed determination and drive had.

While not precisely the enemy, Nikos Konstantinos was, nevertheless, not a friend either.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to imply it was. You caught me by surprise, that’s all. I came to compliment you on tonight’s meal. My guests were most pleased. The lamb almost melted in our mouths.”

Sara was pleased with the compliment and equally surprised her new boss had taken time to come to tell the chef in person.

“I am Nikos Konstantinos,” he said. As if she wouldn’t know.

“I am Sara Andropolous,” she replied. Would he recognize the name from the one letter she’d sent months and months ago? Or had he not been the one to refuse it and have it returned to sender?

“You are finding everything you need?” he asked.

“Yes. The galley is perfect.”

“As are the meals you are preparing. I am pleased.”

She felt a warm glow. She had worked hard to achieve her goals. She would fight tooth and nail to keep her position. But not, it seemed, today. The man she now worked for was satisfied.

“I believe in passing along compliments so people know their work is appreciated,” he commented.

She studied him a moment longer not knowing what to say. He nodded his head once and left.

Nikos Konstantinos had not followed in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps, but had made his mark in the hotel industry. Since building the Windsong, his impact on Greek tourism had been assured, Sara had been told more than once. The employees of the hotel bragged about its success, and with good reason. The excellent staff had had a lot to do with it, after all. The resort was rumored to have a waiting list of more than a year for a reservation. Guests not staying in the hotel could sail into the wide harbor, rent a slip at the lavish marina and use all amenities of the resort—including dining in one of the six fine restaurants. Those staying at the resort could choose which restaurant in which to dine each evening or arrange for room service to deliver and serve a meal as elegantly on a private terrace or balcony as in any of the five-star restaurants.

She was surprised he was as young as he was to have accomplished all he had. Maybe she should have returned the compliment. But then, he had started with a wealthy family backing him; he had probably leapfrogged over growth pains others had to endure.

She returned to her task. Their backgrounds couldn’t be more different. Sara had been raised without a twopence to spare. Fighting her way above the poverty level, she’d put herself through culinary school by working endless hours in kitchen sculleries to afford the training needed to rise above the level of short-order cook. Perseverance, determination—and yes, even some of that stiff-necked pride from her mother—had pushed her through and to success.

Whereas Nikos had probably merely spent one month’s allowance and had the Windsong built with a snap of his fingers. Nikos, she thought, like they were friends or something. Mr. Konstantinos, she corrected herself silently. If his guests continued to be pleased, he would be, as well. Which meant he’d keep her on board longer. Fingers crossed it was long enough to visit the family island.

Heading for her tiny cabin a short time later, Sara grew optimistic. She’d met the owner and he was satisfied with her work. Surely that meant things were still looking up for her plan.

Sara knew she’d been unbelievably fortunate that the chief chef had recommended her for this cushy spot. There were five other crew members in addition to herself. With the guests and Nikos, that made twelve. Nothing like the number of dishes she had to prepare in one of the resort kitchens each evening.

Her first sight of the yacht had inspired a touch of awe. It was beautiful—sleek, gleaming white and riding with a high bow off the water. The main body looked to be longer than her apartment in London and the aft deck could have easily hosted a party for fifty. That’s where she and the other crew could spend off hours. At least the owner was generous with his staff.

Sara frowned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to list admirable attributes. Nikos Konstantinos might be one of the sexiest men she’d ever met, but he was no more than a means to an end for her. She had better not forget that. Besides, Stefano had said this was almost an engagement cruise—a chance for Nikos to decide whether to marry the daughter of a business associate. Sounded cold to her. It also mirrored the same circumstances her mother had been in years ago—an arranged marriage. At least this time it sounded as if the prospective participants were not averse to the plan.

She was astonished to find herself attracted to the man. For a second she had almost forgotten what she was doing and been tempted to flirt. A handsome man, a lonely woman, the perfect romantic setting.

How dumb would that have been?


CHAPTER TWO

NIKOS left the galley to return to the suite that served as both office and bedroom when on board. His chef had been a surprise. Her dark wavy hair had been tied back, with tendrils escaping to frame her face. Her large brown eyes had revealed a wariness that had surprised him. He was used to the awe in which some held him. This was somehow different. Yet her manner had been professional. He’d detected a note of annoyance with the comment about her age. Nikos almost smiled. Touchy—weren’t all great chefs? Though the only ones he’d ever met before had been male. A female chef was a novelty. At least she had not instantly tried to flirt and garner more interest.

He had grown weary of the flirtatious ways of the women he met. If he thought a single one would be interested in him if he had not a dime to spare, he might feel differently. But he’d learned early on that most women wanted one thing—to live a life of luxury—preferably off the proceeds of a susceptible male. His own aborted engagement proved that.

It was as if life were a lottery and he one of the prizes. Nikos did not like to consider himself conceited, but maybe he had grown so with the attention of so many lovely women over the past ten years.

He found Sara’s totally professional attitude refreshing. What would it be like to have people judge him on his own merits? To have a friend who wanted nothing but him as he was?

George Wilson and Marc Swindard were the only two friends to come to mind. Perhaps because they’d shared so many holidays at school when it was too inconvenient for each of them to be flown home. He would send them both e-mails and catch up. Maybe they could get together soon. The demands of business could be consuming. He was guilty of not making more of an effort to get away. But a short trip to New York or London in the near future could be arranged.

Of course, if the idea of marrying Gina Fregulia grew, maybe he’d be contacting his friends to announce his engagement. This time the engagement would be more likely to endure—no lies of love and passion to cloud the issue. He found Gina attractive. She certainly knew how to entertain and moved in the same social circles he did. She’d be a definite asset to the restaurant side of the resort with her knowledge of excellent wines and the contacts her family had.

Nikos pushed open the door to the suite and loosened his tie. He had a little time to catch up on business before he retired for the night.



When Stefano brought his breakfast promptly at seven the next morning, Nikos had been working for almost an hour. The yacht rode at anchor during the night and Nikos had taken advantage of that to have a quick swim in the sea at dawn before showering and dressing for the day. Satellite connections kept him in constant touch with the resort and anyone else who wished to contact him—such as his father, who called just as Stefano put the tray on the desk.

“Have you checked on your grandfather lately?” Andrus asked when Nikos answered the phone.

“Is there a problem?” Nikos asked. It was rare his father spoke of family matters. The shipping business was even more consuming than hotels, especially to Andrus. He had lived for the family shipping company as long as Nikos could remember—to the exclusion of everything else.

“He has some idea about buying another boat to use to get from the island to the mainland. He says the old one is too decrepit.”

“It’s in perfect running order,” Nikos said. He made sure maintenance was always current on all the family’s watercrafts.

“I think he wants a new one, smaller, that he can drive himself. But he’s eighty-two years old. Too old to be jaunting all over the Aegean by himself,” Andrus said in disgust.

“Did you tell him that?” Nikos asked, already knowing the answer.

“Do you think I’m crazy? I thought you could visit, convince him to keep the ship’s crew and make sure he doesn’t do something foolish.”

“My grandfather is not a foolish man,” Nikos said mildly. His father asked him to act as intermediary between them from time to time. It was the closest to familial affection his father got.

“When were you there last?”

“A month ago,” Nikos replied.

“Can you get away soon?” his father asked.

Nikos gazed out of the wide window at the sparkling sea. “I could when my guests leave. I’m entertaining the Fregulias and Onetas right now.”

“Next week, then. Let me know.” His father hung up.

“Want to know how my own business is going?” Nikos said as he hung up the phone. To his father, if one wasn’t in shipping, it was of no account. “Or how about my plans to ask Gina to marry me?” He knew the answer to that one, as well: do as you please. Nikos didn’t mind anymore. His father wasn’t going to change—any more than his grandfather would. If the old man wanted a powerboat so he could operate it himself, he’d get one. Nikos wasn’t going to try to talk him out of it. More power to him. He hoped he was as active when he was eighty-two.

Nikos poured a cup of coffee, surveying the meal. An individual portioned quiche lorraine centered the plate. A fresh fruit compote accompanied it, as well as two slices of a rich walnut bread. How early had Sara risen to have this prepared by seven, he wondered?

He knew so little about his temporary chef. He admitted to being a bit intrigued by a woman who had risen so fast in a field dominated by men. Yet the chief chef had recommended her. That spoke volumes. The fact that she was pretty didn’t hurt, either.

He shook his head and picked up the reservation schedule for the next month. He had other things to do besides think about his temporary chef.

At noon Nikos consulted with the captain and arranged for the ship to stop on one of the smaller islands not too far distant. It would offer his guests a chance to visit the local market and see some of what the Aegean islands had to offer.

Nikos instructed the captain to give the crew the afternoon off and then set sail again at seven. That would allow for dinner on board and some after-dinner conversation before going to his suite for the night.

Shortly after the island came into view, Nikos received a communiqué from the resort. He went to take the call, only to be told his assistant was busy trying to deal with a power outage at the sprawling resort—no power to rooms, pools, common areas or kitchens. When they docked at the island, Nikos sent word to Gina he would be tied up for a little while but urged the Fregulias to go on ahead and he’d catch up, if the situation could be resolved soon. Tapping his fingertips on the desk, he chafed at the distance between him and the resort. He wanted to be right there finding out what had gone wrong, handling the emergency. With the portable phone held to his ear, he went to the cabin’s wide windows.

It was market day on the island. Colorful canopies lined the streets, fluttering in the breeze, shading the wares and goods for sale. The small population seemed to turn out in force to see what bargains they could get, and he watched as Gina happily went down the gangway with her parents and the Onetas, the other couple cruising with them. Soon they were lost from sight as they began exploring the market.

Fifteen minutes later he’d been briefed on the cause of the outage—a power cable severed by road construction near the outer perimeter of the resort. Nothing to be done except wait. The generators had been started and for the most part the resort was operating as usual. Nikos instructed his assistant to keep him informed and hung up. Nothing he could do from the ship.

He started to leave to find his guests when he realized he hadn’t seen any of the crew disembark when he’d been at the window. He’d given instructions they were to have the afternoon off. Glancing at the bridge, he saw it was empty. He went to the kitchen to see if any were there. Pausing at the doorway, Nikos’s gaze went straight to Sara. She was even prettier in daylight. He frowned. He had no business thinking about her at all.

She was wrapping a platter while Stefano lounged against one of the counters chatting. When he saw Nikos, he straightened up, almost coming to attention.

“Did you need something, Mr. Konstantinos?” he asked.

Sara looked at him. “Did you want lunch? I had it nearly prepared when I heard the change in plans. Are you hungry?”

He looked at the sandwich wraps artistically arranged on a platter. Stepping closer, he reached beneath the plastic wrap and took one. Biting into it, he recognized good Greek cheese and olives. And a hint of some spice he wasn’t familiar with. It was delicious.

“As it happens, I have not eaten. There was a minor crisis at the resort, so I sent my guests ahead. Perhaps you could prepare me a plate and bring it up.” He’d eat lunch before leaving the ship. No sense in wasting food, or her efforts.

“Yes, sir, right away, sir,” Stefano said.

Nikos’s eyes met Sara’s. “Actually, I thought Miss Andropolous could bring it up. It would give her a chance to see more of the yacht. The captain has also gone ashore, so I could show you the bridge, as well.”

She glanced at Stefano and shared his look of surprise.

“Thank you, I would love to see the rest of the ship. I can bring you a plate in ten minutes,” she replied. “The crew decided to eat on board and then we’re all going exploring.”

Nikos nodded once and then left. He wasn’t sure why he’d made the offer. He’d never done so before. But then, he’d never had a woman chef before, either. For a moment Nikos wondered if he’d lost his mind. He was considering marriage to Gina Fregulia. He’s spent less than a total of ten minutes with Sara Andropolous. Yet he could postpone finding Gina to show a stranger his ship? Maybe the sun was getting to him. To single out a crew member went against everything he normally did. Yet there was something fascinating about the woman. And she was only bringing his lunch.

Sara knocked on the door in exactly ten minutes. He heard her say something and wondered if she’d needed Stefano to guide her to the suite.

He opened the door and caught a glimpse of Stefano disappearing around the bend.

“Come in.” He stood aside as she entered, carrying a tray with his lunch—a plate piled high with delicacies and an iced beverage.

She looked around and headed for the low table in front of the sofa. Placing the tray carefully, she straightened and smiled in delight as she walked straight to the windows. “Wow, this is fabulous. You are so much higher than our quarters. What a great view of the harbor. What island is this?”

“Theotasaia, a small island whose inhabitants depend upon fishing for a living. Today is market day. The perfect entertainment for my guests.”

“They like to shop?” she asked, still looking from the window.

Nikos crossed to stand beside her. The colorful market was spread out before them, the canopies still fluttering in the breeze.

“I do not know them well,” he said. “They seemed content enough with the suggestion.”

Sara looked at him. “You did not go with them.”

“I was needed here. There was a power outage at the resort.” He briefly told her the situation. He turned back to the plate she’d prepared. There was plenty of food.

“Did you eat?” he asked.

“I nibbled as I was preparing lunch. May I go out to the upper deck? I’ll wait there until you eat—for the tour.”

“I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

Sara let herself out of the stateroom and hurried to the upper forward deck. Being around Nikos Konstantinos was unnerving. She couldn’t forget she was hoping he’d get her access to her grandmother. But he disturbed her equilibrium. She vacillated between wanting to stay away, lest she let something slip, and getting to know him better. On the surface he was just the kind of man her mother had run away from—wealthy, self-assured and maybe a touch arrogant. And in the midst of arranging a marriage to a woman who matched his fortune. Did Gina Fregulia really want a marriage like that?

Stepping out onto the deck, Sara immediately felt the warm breeze blowing from the sea. The sun was almost directly overhead, the sky a cloudless blue. She went to the railing and looked down. It was quite a distance to the sea’s surface. Gazing around, she looked behind her at the wide windows of the bridge.

If her mother had married the man her father had picked out for her, would she have enjoyed luxurious yachts and visits to Aegean Islands? The reality had turned out far differently from what her mother had once envisioned when she’d run away with Sara’s father. But her pride had kept her from admitting a mistake and returning home to seek forgiveness.

Sara still hadn’t come to any conclusion when Nikos joined her a short time later.

“Come, the captain is not on the bridge. We can see everything and he’ll never know,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

She laughed, intrigued by the hint of mischief in her boss. “You’re not afraid of your captain, are you?” she asked as she followed him to the side door and stepped inside.

“He does not consider the bridge a sightseeing stop for guests. I do what I can to keep him happy,” Nikos replied.

She couldn’t imagine the man afraid of anything. He carried himself with such an air of competence and assurance, she knew he could do anything he wanted. Interesting that he humored the captain.

The bridge had a 360-degree view. The wide windows had been tinted slightly to keep off the glare from the sea. The wheel was more like an automobile’s than the wooden spoke-handled ones of old. With all the gadgets, dials and computer equipment, she marveled at how the captain managed all with only one mate to back him up. Or maybe that was why—everything that could be automated had been.

“Wow, this is fantastic,” she said, enjoying the view. “Surely the captain wouldn’t mind showing this to guests.”

“He is an excellent man and I don’t want to jeopardize his staying.”

“Like he’s about to quit,” she murmured. From what she’d learned from the rest of the crew at meals, this was a cushy assignment, and every one of them was grateful for their position.

“If he does, it won’t be because I ruffled any feathers,” Nikos said, coming to stand closer to Sara and pointing to the west.

“Thessalonika is that way.” He swung his arm a bit more. “Thessaly is almost due west of us.” Another swing. “And Athens is that way.”

“But not close,” she said, feeling the heat from his body as he stood so casually near. She could smell his aftershave, a woodsy scent that had her senses fluttering. She wanted to step closer. See if there was some special chemistry between them.

Appalled at her thoughts, she moved away. She would be the most foolish woman on the planet if she thought anything would ever come between her and the fabulously wealthy heir to the Konstantinos shipping fortune. Not to mention Nikos’s own fortune from the resort.

“Tell me more about this little island,” she said, looking over the rugged terrain. The only flat ground seemed to be where the town had been built. White homes with red tiled roofs filled the small valley. A few had been built at the lower levels of the hills. Several weathered fishing boats bobbed nearby. Probably the majority were out working.

“It only recently became a place for ships to stop. Ten years ago their docks couldn’t service a ship with a deep draft. It was suitable only for the smaller fishing boats, but nothing like the Cassandra. Now I bring friends here from time to time. I thought my guests would enjoy it.”

“Did you get the crisis resolved?” she asked.

“For the time being. We await repair of the main cable, but the generators will suffice until then.”

“So now you can join your guests onshore. I shouldn’t hold you up,” she said, turning a little. He’d stepped closer, and she almost bumped into him. Her senses went on high alert. Her awareness gauge shot up. He was too close; she felt as if he were taking the air and leaving her breathless again.

“Come and I’ll also show you the main square of the town. Time enough to find my guests. We’re not leaving until seven this evening.”

Sara blinked at that. Was he serious? The host of the yacht going off for an afternoon with the hired help? What was wrong with this picture?

“Do you think that wise?” she asked in a husky voice. Her heart was tripping so fast she thought he must hear it, or at least see it pounding in her chest.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Maybe because I’m your chef?” she asked. Hadn’t Stefano said he expected to hear of an engagement between Nikos and Gina? What kind of man would spend the afternoon with another woman if his almost-fiancée was nearby? Her instincts rose. He was the kind of man she wanted to stay away from.

“It is only an afternoon in a market square. Come if you like. Or say no.”

She nodded, looking away. She was not responsible for how Nikos Konstantinos behaved. She needed more information if she wanted to get on the family island. Maybe this was the chance to find out more about his family—and satisfy some of the curiosity she had about him.

“I’d love to see the square. I’ll need to be back around five to have dinner ready by eight. But until then I’m game.”

If the crew on the yacht thought it odd the owner was escorting the new chef when he had guests visiting from Italy, no one said a word. Ari had drawn guard duty, and he was at the gangway to make sure no unauthorized person came aboard. He gave a two-finger salute to Nikos and grinned at Sara.

In only moments they were in the midst of the crowd that clogged the streets where the market was set up. Old women all in black carried string sacks in which they put the produce they bought. A small boy walked beside his mother carefully carrying a fresh loaf of bread wrapped in paper. Children’s laughter rang out, mingled with the rise and fall of bargaining debates and the spiel of those with less popular items trying to entice buyers.

It was more fun than she’d had in a while, Sara thought. Her mother would have loved it. She felt a pang when she remembered how her mother had spoken so fondly of her childhood memories. Sara nodded to the vendors, sampled one of the sweets—walnuts and honey—and danced out of the way of several children running through the marketplace.

Nikos caught her arm to steady her. She felt the touch all the way to her toes. Catching her breath, she looked at him. “Thanks.”

Oh, goodness, those dark eyes looked fathomless. His face was angular and masculine. His hair was tousled just a bit from the breeze. She wished they could have met under other circumstances.

But what other circumstances? If not for her needing access to his family island, they would never have met in a thousand years. Their life-styles were too distant.

“Why, Nikos, you took care of the emergency already?” A tall dark-haired woman seem to spring up from the ground beside Sara. As she looked at the woman, Nikos released his hold.

“Gina.” For a moment he said nothing. Sara wondered if that was resignation in his eyes, but it couldn’t be. Wasn’t this the next Mrs. Nikos Konstantinos? Or was she a friend from Thessalonika?

The woman slipped her arm between his and his chest and leaned against him slightly. “I lost Mama and Papa. I knew the yacht was the best place to go if I got lost. But now I have you to show me the sights. I saw the cutest church on the town square. I would love to see inside.”

Sara watched her for a moment, wishing Stacy could be here. She’d make some snide comment, which would have both of them laughing at the obvious ploys of this Gina. Yet the woman had to know she was special to Nikos. Sara mentally sighed. She had known spending the afternoon with a fabulously wealthy man was beyond her reality.

“Sara, may I introduce Gina Fregulia, one of my guests for the cruise. Sara is responsible for the wonderful meals we are enjoying.”

“Oh, the quiche this morning was just delicious. I couldn’t eat it all, of course, I do have to watch my figure. But what I sampled was simply divine. You’re so clever. I can’t cook.” She glanced up at Nikos with a simpering smile. “But I don’t need to. We have a cook for that. I do have other talents.”

“I’m sure you do,” Sara said softly in English, just imagining what talents the voluptuous Italian woman had.

Nikos caught her eye, amusement evident in his. She must have misread the earlier emotion.

“Well, I’m looking for fresh produce to enhance tonight’s meal. Enjoy visiting the church,” she said briskly and turned.

“Sara,” Nikos called.

She turned.

He hesitated a moment as Gina clung. “Tell them to charge it to the yacht, they will know how to collect.”

For a split second she had hoped he was calling to reissue his invitation to see the town square together. To dump his guest and spend the afternoon with his chef. Ha. Gina was much more his type. He had been kind to offer to show her around. She relieved him of his impetuous offer.

Waving gaily, she turned and plunged into the crowd, hoping to lose herself quickly before the false smile plastered on her face dissolved and her disappointment showed. She would have liked to explore the island with someone who knew it. That was all.

Sara ended her afternoon at a small taverna near the docks. Fishing boats arrived every few minutes and she watched as the catch of the day was handed from the smaller crafts to a large ship that had tied up only moments before the fishermen returned. Most of the fish went into cold storage in the ship that probably took it straight to the mainland. Some fishermen carried their catch straight to a series of tables with running water to clean the fish and pass it along to one of the booths at the market.

Giving in to impulse, she went to buy some fresh catch to serve for dinner. She could rearrange her menu and knew the fresh fish would be excellent.

When she returned to the ship, she saw Nikos standing near the rails, talking with his guests. They were seated on the cushioned chairs dotting the upper forward deck.

Just before she looked away, he glanced around, his gaze catching hers. For a long moment he merely stared at her. Then slowly he raised his glass in silent toast.

Someone—probably Gina—said something and he looked back. Sara hurried on board, her nerves tingling. Would he seek her out again before the trip was over?

Why would he? she silently asked.


CHAPTER THREE

ONCE the yacht stopped for its nightly anchorage, Sara felt an unexpected rise in anticipation. She and several of the other crew members were lounging on the aft deck, enjoying the evening. It was much cooler tonight. She’d brought a sweatshirt. The breeze that blew constantly was refreshing but chilly. She listened to the conversation more than contributed. Now that the ship had dropped anchor, she wondered if Nikos would come again to thank her for the meal. She’d taken extra pains with tonight’s dish, broiling the succulent fish to perfection.

Probably not. He’d merely been kind to a new employee last night. He expected good work; she delivered. And he’d also been hospitable when he’d offered to show her around the upper deck of the yacht. She didn’t think he was the type to mingle with his employees on a routine basis. With the rest of the crew lingering on the aft deck, even if he wanted to speak to her again, she doubted he’d do so in such a public place.

And why would he want to? She wasn’t a regular member of the crew. Once the chef with the ruptured appendix recovered, he’d be back in his galley and she’d be back at the resort looking for another way to contact her grandmother.

Unless she could somehow get to the family island before that.

One by one the crew members rose to depart to their quarters. When only Sara and the captain remained, she changed seats to be closer so she could ask him some questions. She wanted to be able to turn the conversation to access to the island.

“Have you been in charge of this ship long?” she began.

“Since it was commissioned. Before that, I was captain of a ship for Mr. Andrus Konstantinos, Mr. Nikos’s father. I have served the family for almost twenty years.”

“An ideal job, I’d say, sailing around the Aegean all the time.”

“Ah, but sometimes we go further—into the Med and to ports west of Greece. One summer I took the patriarch and his new bride to Spain and Morocco. It was a beautiful summer sail.”

That had to be her grandmother he was talking about. The senior Konstantinos was now married to Eleani. “How long ago was that?” she asked.

“Many years now. More recently we have sailed to Egypt and to Italy.”

“Do you have any family?” she asked, wondering how they managed his being from home for long voyages.

“Only a brother and his children. His wife died two years ago. They are mostly grown, but I see them at holidays if not required on board. Have you sailed a lot?”

“No, this is my first trip.”

“Lucky for you seasickness is not a problem.”

“If she’d gotten sick, she’d have been in a real pickle,” Nikos said from the shadows.

The captain turned his head and nodded a greeting. “Mr. Nikos. Did you require something?”

“Just a brief break from the work that never ends. I came to check up on my chef and compliment her on the excellent dinner tonight. The presentation added to the delicious taste of the fresh fish.”

Sara surreptitiously wiped her damp palms on her slacks and tried to keep her breathing under control. “I’m pleased you and your guests enjoyed the meal.”

“As did we all,” the captain added. “Aeneas did well in recommending Sara. We all enjoy Paul’s food, but Sara has brought new dishes to the table that the entire crew appreciates.”

Nikos walked to a side railing. The ship bobbed gently on the sea, the breeze blowing from the bow. “Tomorrow I think we should find another island for our guests to visit. They seem to grow bored easily,” Nikos said.

“I can’t understand it myself,” the captain said. He rose. “If we are to depart early, I will retire now.”

“After seven. I want a swim first,” Nikos said.

“Absolutely.” He bade them both good-night.

Sara was the only one left on the aft deck with him. She should say something. Or maybe he wanted to be alone and knew his guests wouldn’t intrude in this area.

“So you swim each morning before we weigh anchor?” she asked, gazing over the starlit surface of the Aegean. The water was dark and smooth, almost like a mirror to the stars.

“If time and weather permit.”

She smiled. She couldn’t picture herself swimming each day before starting work.

“Would you care to join me?” He half turned to look at her.

Sara was startled at the invitation. She thought about it for a moment. It was hard to be swimming when she should be preparing a meal. “I’d better not. I have omelets planned for tomorrow and fresh walnut bread again. I’ll need time to have it all ready for your guests.”

“Come for fifteen minutes. You can work around that,” Nikos urged. “Besides, I’m the one who eats early, and the crew. My guests haven’t had breakfast before nine since they’ve been on board.”

“Okay. No, wait. I did not expect to swim. I didn’t bring a suit.” She would love a chance to swim in the sea to start the day. It had never crossed her mind that she’d actually have an opportunity to do so or she would have packed a swimsuit.

“We have extra suits on board. Sometimes guests don’t plan to swim, either, and then change their minds. I’ll have Stefano bring you one.”

“Thank you,” she said. She hoped Stefano would not suspect there was more to the invitation than there really was—merely a time to go swimming before beginning the day’s work. She didn’t want to give rise to gossip that could harm her chances of staying on board.

“I usually start around six, swim a half hour, shower and dress to be ready to work at seven,” he said.

“Early,” she murmured. It was already close to midnight.

“It’s a routine that suits me well.”

“So you swim mornings at the resort, as well?” she asked.

“Weather permitting. Sometimes in the sea, sometimes in one of the pools.”

She tucked that piece of information away. Maybe she’d get up early once in a while for a swim herself, instead of swimming in the pool at midnight after her work was finished each day.

He studied her in the faint illumination of the anchor light. “How are you adjusting to being on the sea? You did say you weren’t seasick.”

“It’s challenging to cook in such a small space, but the captain keeps the boat on an even plane so I don’t have spills or liquids sloshing over. Stefano keeps it clean once I’m finished preparing the meal. Actually, I’m enjoying myself.” She was surprised to say it, but it was true. She’d been so focused on trying to find her grandmother, she had overlooked how much she was enjoying the experience of working in this situation.

“I’m glad,” he said.

She glanced away, feeling the attraction that flared whenever he was near. She knew it was only a part of her visit to Greece in which she didn’t have to calculate ways to get to the island. Sooner or later Nikos would return to his family home. With any luck, she’d still be aboard when he did. She should make the most of this opportunity, but couldn’t think of a thing to say to ingratiate herself with him. She so wanted to get to the island—just for an afternoon. That’s all she’d need.

“It’s late. I’ll see you at six,” Nikos said.

“Good night,” Sara replied. She’d see him again in a few hours. They’d swim together and then she’d be back in the galley. Wait until Stacy heard.

Sara had spent her time while preparing this evening’s meal imaging Nikos enjoying every bite. She’d also thought about when he’d offered to play guide and the anticipation she had felt. She hoped his guests enjoyed the food, as well. But the reality was she was cooking for him. Wasn’t the old adage something about the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach? She didn’t want to get to his heart—just his island.

Sleep proved difficult. She knew she had to trust in luck to get her what she wanted. And so far her luck had been spotty. None in trying to contact Eleani Konstantinos, good luck in landing a job at the resort. No luck in finding a way to the Konstantinos’s island on her own. Amazing luck in getting a berth on the ship. Now could she hope that luck held? Or was there something she could do to press it?

By six-fifteen the next morning Sara still didn’t have a swimsuit. She debated forgetting the entire idea and dressing in her regular resort uniform of khaki slacks and navy shirt with the resort’s logo on the left side then heading for the galley. In the light of dawn, maybe Nikos had a change of heart.

The soft knock went almost unheard. She crossed to the door. Stefano grinned at her when she opened it, holding out a small box. “Compliments of Mr. Konstantinos. He said to meet him at the aft deck when you’re ready.”

She took the box, thanked him and shut the door. The swimsuit was a brand-new one-piece in a lovely teal color. She pulled it on. It fit perfectly. Tying her hair back, she slipped on her robe, not having any other swimsuit cover-up, and headed for the aft deck, her heart pounding. Would the other crew members resent her swimming with the boss? Or was this a common practice that she was making more of than it warranted?

Nikos stood by the back railing. He turned when he heard her and watched as she crossed the space in her bare feet. Without her working shoes, which gave some elevation, she was more conscious than ever of his height.

Sara tried not to be intrigued by the broad shoulders and well-developed muscular chest. It was hard not to imagine herself drawn against him, feeling those muscles hold her close. She longed to trail her fingertips across his tanned skin, to feel the texture, the warmth and strength.

Then the reality slapped her. He was someone she needed in order to accomplish her goal. That was it. Otherwise he lived the kind of lifestyle she was wary of. She should never forget that.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” The air was cool. Would the water also be? She slipped off her robe and walked to the railing, peering over. “Do we just jump in?” she asked. They were still eight feet or more above the water.

“No.” He flipped open a section of railing, indicating ladder steps built into the boat. “We climb down to that swim board. It’s a platform to get on and off the ship.”

It was not wide, maybe eighteen inches out, running the width of the ship. Nikos showed her how to use the ladder and in only a couple of moments they stood side by side on the platform.

“Now,” he said, diving into the blue water.

Sara took a breath and followed.

It was heavenly. The water was cool but not cold. The faint pink still showing in the wispy clouds in the sky was the first thing she saw when she surfaced. Turning, she saw the boat not far away. Looking around, she saw nothing but sky and sea and ship.

Nikos broke the surface a dozen yards ahead of her and began swimming away. Sara smiled at the pure sensual enjoyment of the moment and began to swim after him. She loved the water, and one of the perks of working at the resort was the swimming she could enjoy during her time off. Very different from her life in London.

She was beginning to wonder if she should turn back when she saw Nikos had stopped and was treading water. Catching up with him, she grinned in delight.

“This is fabulous. What are your guests doing still asleep? They should be out enjoying a swim.”



Nikos stared at her for a moment, then glanced back at the yacht. “I think Senora Fregulia is not so fond of a swimsuit. Senor Fregulia is too focused on business, and getting her hair mussed is not Gina’s thing. The Onetas take their lead from the Fregulias. It is of no matter. I hope my guests are enjoying themselves, even if we do not share liking of the same activities.”

“What about the crew? Surely some of them would like to swim.”

“Occasionally when we are at anchor they do. Mostly not.” Nikos shrugged. He didn’t much care about the other crew members at this particular moment. He was enjoying the obvious pleasure Sara derived from the early-morning swim. She was open in sharing in her emotions. No guile. No flirtation. Was it the novelty that intrigued him? Or the mysterious chef herself who had come to work for him?

She obviously liked her position and had given no hints she wanted more. She didn’t pester him with dozens of questions about his life, about his likes and dislikes. Sara took each moment as it came. She was enjoying the water and it showed. Definitely a novelty after the jaded women he usually met at receptions and parties.

She wore her femininity unselfconsciously, moving with grace whether walking across the deck or touring the bridge. She was comfortable with who she was. Witness the wet stringy hair that had escaped her tieback. She merely swept it away from her face and gazed around in delight.

Nikos didn’t mix business with pleasure. No matter how much he enjoyed being with her, he would never overstep the bounds of employer-employee. He still didn’t understand the impulse that had caused him to issue the invitation. He was glad he had, however. If only to enjoy her pleasure in the simple exercise.

“I’d say I’d race you back to the boat, but you’re a stronger swimmer than I am,” she said. “This is so lovely. Can I swim every morning?”

“If you wish,” he said, beginning to lazily swim back. “Not when we are in port, however. The water near marinas is not so fresh.”

She wrinkled her nose, keeping up with his slower pace. “Too many oil spots. I’ve seen the rainbow colors floating on the surface.”

“We’ll be stopping at another island today. The ladies loved shopping yesterday. Today’s island won’t have a market, but there are shops and cafés. There is even an old fort sitting on a bluff with a terrific view. Maybe you can tour that.”

“We’ll stop before lunch?”

“You get another free pass. I’ll take my guests to lunch at one of the waterfront cafés. No lunch preparations needed.”

For a moment Sara looked wistful. Was she wishing she could join him? Suddenly Nikos wondered what it would be like to take a few days off. Get away from work, from duty, and just enjoy Sara’s company. Maybe when this cruise was finished he’d find out. Unless he became engaged to Gina by then. The thought surprised him. He’d started the cruise with that intent. Was he having second thoughts? The alliance would work to the benefit of both. Yet momentarily he’d forgotten his intent, his interest in Sara overriding his common sense.

“We’re going to have a lot of food left over if you keep changing the meals,” she commented.

The ship was getting closer every moment. When they reached it, she’d disappear to change and get to work. Nikos knew he’d not see her again today—unless she lingered on the aft deck after dinner. He could tell her again how much his guests enjoyed her cooking.

When Nikos was dressed for the day, he went to his desk and powered up his laptop. First order of business, catch up on e-mail and check in with his assistant at the resort. By now the power should have been fully restored. But there would be other minor crises to deal with. While he worked, Stefano brought his breakfast. An omelet as light as air, loaded with mushrooms, onions, spinach and green peppers was the first thing he saw. The walnut bread on a separate plate was still warm. The coffee was strong and hot. As he ate, he tried to visualize Sara preparing the meal. He frowned. He had no idea how cooks worked. His education was sadly lacking. One day he should check out the galley and see her in action.

When his cell phone rang, he answered.

“Nikos, it is your grandfather,” the familiar voice said.

“I know. I recognize your voice.” Nikos smiled. He had spent many summers on the island while his parents traveled. It still remained his favorite place.

“Your assistant tells me you are on another cruise. Where this time?”

Nikos filled him in and waited. There was usually a reason his grandfather called at this early hour. Informal family chats were unheard of.

“I’m thinking about buying another boat,” he finally said.

“Oh?” Nikos suspected his grandfather knew his son had called Nikos.

“I wanted you to vet it for me. And don’t be telling me I’m too old to buy a new boat. This one is for Eleani and me to go out together. No privacy otherwise.”

Nikos shook his head. The Cassandra offered plenty of privacy and was available whenever his grandfather wished. But he understood the older man’s reasoning. Last night he’d been very aware that he and Sara hadn’t been alone.

“I am committed for another three days, then must return my guests to the resort and await their departure before I can come home,” Nikos said, glancing at his calendar. He had no important meetings or commitments the following week. “I’ll come after that.”

Nikos always found it easy to relax on the family island. It had been a while since he’d visited. He could enjoy his grandparents’ company and really take a few days away from work.

“Good, plan to stay awhile. We have not seen you in a long time.”

“I will stay a few days. Give my regards to Eleani.”

He hung up, his mind already returning to the situation at hand. Why shouldn’t his grandfather and his wife enjoy a small boat? They might be older, but they were both perfectly capable of running their own lives. His own grandmother had died when Nikos had been a boy. When Spiros had remarried, to a widow, Eleani, Nikos and his family had accepted her as Spiros’s wife. She’d had no one. That had been almost ten years ago. She had easily become a vital part of their family and had been the best thing for his grandfather. Nikos liked her warmth and devotion to Spiros. And she’d shared that warmth with the rest of the family when they’d let her.

Nikos hoped he was as active when he was in his eighties. Hard to imagine now reaching that age. He could not picture himself married, much less very much in love with a wife in fifty years.

It was stupid to cast all women in the same light as Ariana, but he had a tendency to do just that. She’d professed undying love when they’d been engaged. But once he’d caught her with another man in bed, he’d had trouble believing it. The truth had been that she’d wanted the lifestyle Nikos could offer. She didn’t love him; she loved being with men—rich, poor, young, old. Ariana hadn’t been too particular.

To a young man who had been in love, it had been a double blow. First, that she hadn’t loved him and second, that he hadn’t been wise enough to realize that before finding proof. He’d learned the lesson well, however. Unless a woman had a fortune to match his, he would never consider her in the matrimony stakes.

Gina would make a perfect businessman’s wife. She was polished, aware of the demands of work and brought a wealth of contacts with the wine industry in Italy.

Yet still he hesitated. If left to him, he probably would not marry. Families were overrated. He knew from his own experiences and shattered expectations that it was an institution best handled carefully. Currently he set his own goals and had no one to blame except himself if things didn’t go as he wanted. A wife would be an additional responsibility. Still, he did want children, some boy or girl to leave the resort to. To teach the ways his forefathers had lived for generations. Would Gina be that wife?

He didn’t have to decide on this cruise, but he wasn’t getting any younger.

He quickly scanned his messages, replying to two that were urgent. Shutting off his laptop, he rose, ready to face his guests and offer some of the hospitality of the small island they were heading for.

The ruins were spectacular. He’d taken other guests on a tour of them in the past and everyone had raved about the antiquity of the stones and the view of the sea that seemed endless.

He hoped the Fregulias and Onetas would like it, as well.



Four hours later Nikos knew this particular outing hadn’t met with the same success as the visit to the market had the day before. The three couples had walked around the cobblestone streets of the old town, stopping in several shops but purchasing nothing. The morning was winding down. There was time for a quick visit to the ruins before a late lunch, but his guests seemed disinclined to continue.

Senor Fregulia wanted to visit a taverna. His wife wanted out of the sun. Nikos knew what Gina wanted but the more she seemed interested in him, the less he felt interested in her. Was it just the normal reluctance of a man to commit to one woman?

“It is so hot,” she complained for the tenth time.

“Perhaps we should return to the boat and continue the sail,” he suggested.

“No, I wish to visit the taverna. A drink of fine wine while sitting in the shade and watching people would suit me better than the boat. I seem to be prone to a touch of seasickness,” Senor Fregulia said, heading in the direction of an outdoor café.

“I wish to see into some more of the shops,” Senora Fregulia said, looking at her friend. An instant later Senora Oneta agreed.

Gina was pouting. Nikos wanted to shake the lot of them, but his duties as host prevented that. How had the outing turned out to be so annoying?

“Gina?” A young man dashed over and began talking with her in rapid Italian. His speech was too fast for Nikos to follow with the limited Italian he spoke, but the gist seemed to be they had been friends who hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

“Excuse my manners,” Gina said at one point, linking arms with the young man. “Pietro, this is our host, Nikos Konstantinos. Nikos, my friend Pietro from Rome.”

Once introductions had been completed, Gina flirted with Pietro, keeping a careful eye on her father and on Nikos.

“Come, we will all enjoy some wine and watch the boats in the harbor,” she suggested, drawing Pietro toward the taverna. “Nikos can tell us all about this quaint little island and the people who live here.”

It was obvious to him what she was doing and he had no intention of playing her game of pitting one man against another. If she thought that would spark his interest, she would be very surprised to know his thoughts, which of course he would never voice.





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