She looked strangely content. Which made no sense at all.
He glanced towards the one small bag she’d brought aboard the flight from Paris. Her lack of luggage was a clear indication that she expected to be taken on some serious shopping trips—which meant that she was going to be severely disappointed. They weren’t going anywhere, and she would be forced to wear whatever items she’d brought with her. And wear them again. And again. And launder them herself.
Angelos smiled as he thought about the role that she was going to be expected to play as his prospective wife.
Knowing his father, the first thing he’d want to see would be her prowess in the kitchen.
Can she cook, Angelos?
Undoubtedly not. In fact, he was willing to bet she’d never been near a hot stove in her life, let alone slaved over one. Why would she, when the men she’d married had given her a lifestyle beyond her wildest dreams?
If she’d had any sense she would have taken the money from her last divorce and settled in the Caribbean, instead of moving on to her next victim.
As they drew closer to the island Angelos slowed the boat and pulled in alongside the jetty. He cut the engine, and the air was filled with the insistent rasp of cicadas.
Above them he glimpsed the whitewashed walls of the villa. Hot pink bougainvillaea tumbled joyfully over the walls, basking in the hot Greek sunshine, and the path that led up from the jetty was thickly bordered with blue agapanthus.
‘Home.’
It was only when she looked at him that he realised he’d spoken the word aloud.
‘Is it home? I thought you lived in Athens?’
‘My business requires that I travel a lot and I have a home in Athens because my headquarters is based there. But I have offices in almost all the major cities in the world. It’s a necessity.’
‘You don’t like the city?’
‘Sometimes. But the villa feels more like home than any other property I own. It is the place we spend time as a family.’ He didn’t know which surprised him more. His own confession or her nod of immediate understanding.
‘I can see why you love it. It’s beautiful.’
It seemed such an unlikely response from a woman with a love of the bright lights that he felt a flicker of irritation and suddenly regretted that circumstances had forced him to bring her with him. The island was usually a place to escape from the stresses and demands of his life. This time he’d been forced to bring the stress along with him.
He was about to make a sharp comment when he caught sight of the expression on her face. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and she was staring at the white-pebbled beach as though she couldn’t wait to slip her shoes off and take a walk.
Surprised by her reaction, Angelos frowned. Pretty though it was, the island was a long way from the mainland. There were no trendy cafes, no boutique hotels or designer shops. No men and no nightclubs. In fact, nothing to entertain a woman like Isabelle. Just beaches, olives groves and dusty tracks winding their way over the headland.
He’d expected to see boredom or impatience on her face. Certainly not excitement. Suddenly she seemed vivid and alive and his eyes were drawn to the thrust of her breasts under the thin white top. Her body was lush and feminine, her mouth full and tempting, and her eyes were shining with almost child-like enthusiasm.
Angelos tightened his jaw, not knowing whether to be amused or irritated by the powerful and predictable response of his body.
Was he really that shallow?
Obviously the answer to that question was yes.
With a cynical laugh at his own expense, he turned away and secured the boat to the jetty with the rope.
It was ironic, he reflected, that the woman he’d finally brought home to this island was probably the last person on earth he’d contemplate marrying.
But, just as long as he kept that fact from his father, there shouldn’t be a problem.
Feeling the heat of the sun on the back of her neck, Chantal followed Angelos up the path that led from the jetty to the villa. The garden seemed to tumble down the hillside, a joyful haven so breathtakingly beautiful that she paused for a moment just to enjoy the scent and colour. Orange and magnolia trees bordered the path, and the sea sparkled turquoise in the dazzling sunlight.
Aware that Angelos was glaring at her impatiently, she hurried towards him, followed him round a bend in the path and had her first proper view of the villa.
It had obviously been built to give the owners the benefit of what must surely be the best views in Greece, and her first impression left her speechless with wonder.
Between the villa and the sea lay a series of terraces, shaded by vines and linked by narrow paths. And on the same level as the villa itself was a large curved pool which followed the shape of the hillside and which appeared to merge with the ocean beyond.
Despite its obvious size, the villa itself was a vision of Mediterranean charm. Bougainvillaea tumbled from balconies, down over whitewashed walls to the scented gardens below. On the ground floor an arched entrance offered a tantalising view of a shaded stone courtyard with a central fountain. Doors opened from the main living area to the pool and inside the spacious room she could see rich-coloured textiles set against cool white walls.
‘Kalispera!’ A nurse appeared, wearing a crisp white uniform and a stern expression on her face.
Angelos walked towards her. ‘How is my father today?’
‘Determined to do himself as much damage as possible!’ The nurse set her mouth in a disapproving line, and Angelos lifted an eyebrow.
‘His tests are not good?’
‘His tests are excellent, but he refuses to make any changes to his lifestyle.’ Clearly exasperated with her patient, the nurse glanced at Chantal. ‘Perhaps you will be able to influence him. He’s been very excited about your arrival. Hopefully now you are here he will join you for dinner. I couldn’t persuade him to eat lunch.’
Angelos frowned. ‘He isn’t eating?’
‘He doesn’t have much of an appetite.’ Her tone sharp, the nurse flipped through her notebook, checking her facts. ‘Black coffee for breakfast, nothing for lunch, and now he’s asking for a drink.’
‘Presumably not water?’ Angelos said wearily. ‘All right. I’ll talk to him.’
‘I’d appreciate that.’ The nurse gave a brief nod and slipped the book back into her pocket. ‘I’ll go and talk to the kitchen about his diet. See if there’s anything we can make that might tempt him.’
Angelos took Chantal’s arm and steered her towards the pool. It was set high enough up to give a breathtaking view of the bay and several small islands in the distance, and for a moment she just stood there, wondering if there was a place more peaceful or beautiful anywhere on earth. She’d travelled, and seen many sights, but there was something about this place that made her catch her breath.
‘It’s stunning.’
Angelos turned towards her and smiled and that smile was so intimate and sexy that her stomach flipped. For a moment she was blinded. The world around her shrank and there was nothing but him. No view, no villa, no other person. She just gazed back at him, the words in her mouth melting away unspoken.
She was just reminding herself of the need to breathe when he leaned towards her, a smile in his eyes as his lips brushed against her cheek.
‘Don’t get too comfortable. I’m watching you,’ he murmured softly in her ear, and she realised then that the smile and the sudden softening in his eyes had been for the benefit of his father, who was beaming with delight as he watched them.
And