‘Don’t give me that look. I know you don’t want to be disturbed, but you’re not answering your personal line.’ When he still didn’t answer, she sighed. ‘Sonya’s PA has been ringing and when you didn’t answer Sonya herself called. She isn’t in a good mood.’
‘She is phoning to give me an update on her moods? I have marginally more interest in the weather forecast.’
‘She wanted me to give you a message. She said to tell you she’s not playing hostess at your party tonight until you make a decision about your relationship. Her exact words were …’ Maria cleared her throat. ‘“Tell him it’s either on or off.”’
‘It’s off. I already told her that in words that even she should have been able to understand.’ Exasperated, Stefan picked up his phone and deleted all his messages without listening to them. Even without looking he could feel Maria’s censorship and he smiled. ‘You’ve worked for me for twelve years. Why the long face?’
‘Doesn’t the end of a relationship ever bother you?’
‘Never.’
‘That says something about you, Stefan.’
‘Yes. It says I’m good at handling break-ups. Go, me.’
‘It says you don’t care about the women you date!’
‘I care as much as they do.’
With a despairing shake of her head, Maria cleared two empty coffee cups from his desk. ‘You have your pick of women and you can’t find one you want to settle down with? You are a success in every aspect of your life except one. Your personal life is a disaster.’
‘I happen to consider my personal life an unqualified success.’
‘You must want more than this from a relationship.’
‘I want hot, frequent, uncomplicated sex.’ He smiled at her disapproving expression. ‘I pick women who want the same thing.’
‘Love would be the making of you.’
Love?
Stefan felt something slam shut inside him. He swung his legs off his desk. ‘Did your job description change when I wasn’t looking? Has there been some EU employment law that requires you to take charge of my private life?’
‘Fine. I can take the hint. It’s none of my business. I don’t know why I even bother.’ The cups rattled in her hand as she stalked through the door but she was back moments later. ‘There’s someone here to see you. Perhaps she’ll be able to persuade you to get in touch with your human side.’
‘She? I thought my first appointment wasn’t until ten o’clock?’
‘This person doesn’t have an appointment, but I didn’t feel comfortable turning her away.’
‘Why not? I employ you to be the dragon at my door.’
‘I can be dragon-like when I have to be but not when the person wanting to see you is a nun.’
‘A nun? You have to be kidding me.’
‘She says she has something urgent to discuss with you.’
Stefan gave a sardonic smile. ‘If she’s here to save my soul, tell her she’s too late.’
‘I will not. To be honest I have no idea what to say to her.’
‘Any combination of words would have sufficed, providing “no” and “get out” were included.’
Maria squared her shoulders. ‘I can’t turn a nun away. I don’t want that on my conscience.’
Stefan, who hadn’t made the acquaintance of his conscience for several decades, was exasperated. ‘I never saw you as gullible. Has it occurred to you she’s probably a stripper?’
‘I know a genuine nun’s habit when I see one. And your cynicism does you no credit.’
‘On the contrary, my cynicism has protected me nicely for years and will continue to do so—which is just as well given that you’re turning into a soft touch.’
‘I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can tell a nun you won’t see her. And she has a really sweet smile.’ Maria’s face softened momentarily and then she glared at him. ‘If you want it done, you’ll have to do it yourself.’
‘Fine. Send her in. And then take a trip to the nearest fancy dress store and see for yourself how easy it is to hire a nun’s costume.’
Clearly relieved to have offloaded that responsibility, Maria retreated, and Stefan felt a rush of irritation at the thought of an interruption that would bring him no benefit.
His irritation intensified at the sight of a nun in a black habit standing in the doorway to his office. Under the robes he could see that she was slightly built but she kept her head bowed, allowing him a single glimpse of a pale face under flowing black and white.
Unmoved by her pious attitude, Stefan leaned back in his chair and scrutinised his unwanted visitor. ‘If you’re expecting me to confess my sins then I should probably tell you that my next appointment is in an hour and that is nowhere near long enough for me to tell you all the bad things I’ve done in my life. On the other hand if you’re about to beg for cash then you should know that all my charitable donations are handled through my lawyers, via a separate part of my company. I just make the money. I leave other people to spend it.’
The tone he used would have had most people backing towards the door but she simply closed it so that they were alone.
‘There is no need to close the door,’ he said coldly, ‘because you’re going to be going back through it in approximately five seconds. I have no idea what you’re expecting to gain by …’ The words died in his throat as the nun removed her hood and hair the colour of a pale moonbeam tumbled in shiny waves over her black habit.
‘I’m not a nun, Mr Ziakas.’ Her voice was soft, breathy and perfect for the bedroom, a thought that clashed uncomfortably with the vision of her in a nun’s outfit.
‘Of course you’re not,’ Stefan drawled, his eyes fixed on her glorious hair, ‘but you managed to convince my hardened PA so I suppose you should get points for that.’ Suddenly he was annoyed with Maria for allowing herself to be so easily manipulated. ‘I’m used to women using all sorts of devices in order to meet me, but I’ve never yet had one stoop so low as to impersonate a nun. It smacks of desperate behaviour.’
‘I’m not impersonating anyone. But it was essential that I keep a low profile.’
‘I hate to break this to you, but in the business district of Athens a nun’s habit is not considered camouflage. You stand out like a penguin in the Sahara. If you want to blend, next time dress in a suit.’
‘I couldn’t risk being recognised.’ Her eyes flickered to the huge glass windows of his office and after a moment she sidled across and peered down at the city while he watched in mounting exasperation.
Who would recognise her? Who was she? Someone’s wife?
There was something vaguely familiar about her face. His mind coming up blank, he tried to imagine her without her clothes to see if he could place her, but mentally stripping a nun proved a stretch even for him. ‘I don’t sleep with married women so that can’t be the reason for the elaborate subterfuge. Do we know each other? If so, you’re going to have to remind me.’ He raised an eyebrow as a prompt. ‘Where? When? I admit to being hopeless with names.’
She dragged her gaze from the view, those green eyes direct. ‘When and where what?’
Stefan, who hated mysteries and considered tact a quality devoid of reward, was blunt. ‘Where and when did we have sex? I’m sure it was amazing but you’re