“Likewise,” the American businessman said, an admiring look in his eyes.
To Melina’s relief he looked approachable. She decided to come right out with it. To talk to him frankly and to solicit his cooperation. It was just a matter of finding the right way to say what she wanted to say without appearing the complete fool.
She was about to introduce her friends when Eleni grabbed Arianna’s arm and made for an empty table. “We’ll see you later!”
Peter raised an eyebrow at their abrupt departure, shrugged, and gestured to the buffet table offering up hot food, salads, sandwiches and drinks. “Since it appears you are now alone, will you join us for lunch, Melina?”
“Thank you, I would like to.” Melina couldn’t figure out how Eleni had known which elevator to take for Melina to meet her destiny, but she was grateful. Even more so when Eleni had had the foresight to take Arianna and leave. Now, to find a way to get rid of Peter before she made her pitch. The fewer people who overheard her, the better. Especially someone who knew her family.
The scents of pita-wrapped sandwiches and the traditional Greek salad of cucumbers, walnuts and tomatoes pulled her to the buffet table. Maybe, she prayed silently, her stomach would stop fluttering if it were full.
“Salad, please,” she told the server. “With just a bit of oil and vinegar dressing.”
“Is that all you’re going to eat?” the American asked as he hovered over a tray of moussaka.
Melina glanced at the inviting displays of cold cucumber pita sandwiches and the container of hot moussaka. Never mind the chocolate chip cookies and the baklava that begged for her attention. It all looked delicious. But the truth was, she was too nervous to eat. It wasn’t every day a woman came face-to-face with her destiny.
“I usually don’t eat much at noon,” she answered, gesturing for a glass of iced tea.
Peter’s American friend didn’t seem to have a problem with food, she thought enviously as she watched him ask for a double helping of moussaka. Like all Greek girls, she’d been raised to know how to cook for a family. If she wound up as Adam Blake’s housekeeper, she vowed, he would never lack the Greek food he seemed to favor.
“How are your parents, your brothers, Melina?” Peter asked as they were seated.
“Fine, thank you,” she said, sipping her iced tea to take her mind off Adam Blake’s clear hazel eyes, the deep cleft in his square jaw and his innate sensuality. How in heaven’s name could she be attracted to a man she’d just noticed but had never been introduced to before? “Busy with the family pistachio business.”
“Good, good. You have a fine family, Melina. I shall have to visit them soon and pay my respects to your father.” Melina blinked and hoped the visit wouldn’t take place too soon.
She gathered enough information during lunch to learn that Adam Blake was a U.S. importer of such Greek products as extra-virgin olive oil and fine wines. Which meant, unfortunately, that he traveled a great deal. It was no wonder that he was dismayed at having to take over the care of his little daughter.
Just as well, Melina thought, that he wasn’t going to be around every day or she’d be a basket case. She caught him eyeing the way she nervously played with the top button on her blouse. Though she tried to return his gaze casually, she couldn’t seem to keep her fingers still under his stare. To add to her problem, his blatant masculinity sent her mind down paths a woman who wanted to apply for the job as his housekeeper had no right to tread. She had to approach the man with a business proposition—no more, no less.
It wasn’t until the men were into their dessert that Melina had gathered enough courage to speak her mind. The honeyed scent of the slice of baklava pastry wafted across the table.
She took a deep breath. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Blake, but I overheard you in the elevator telling Peter you are looking for someone to help you take care of your young daughter.”
“Why yes, I guess I am.” Adam looked at her with growing interest. “Why, do you know someone who might be interested?”
Melina wiped her dry lips with her paper napkin. “Yes, I do. Me.”
Adam Blake looked as if she’d hit him right between the eyes with a brick. Compared to the train that suddenly seemed to roar through her already queasy stomach, it was a mild reaction. “You?”
“Yes, me,” she repeated firmly, and took another deep swallow of iced tea.
“Why?” Adam frowned and glanced around the patio. “I thought you worked here at the embassy.”
“I do, for now. Actually, my position is being eliminated—for financial reasons.”
“You want a position as a housekeeper?” Adam Blake repeated cautiously. “That would be quite a change for you, wouldn’t it?”
“Perhaps,” Melina answered quietly, trying to still the inner voice that was cautioning her to go slowly. “I have my reasons.”
Adam Blake regarded her for a long moment. From the way she kept playing with the button on her blouse, she knew it was obvious that she was nervous. He finally asked, “And those reasons are?”
Melina glanced at Peter Stakis before she answered. Something in her eyes must have told him she wanted privacy. He rose and pushed back his chair. “Nice to see you again, Melina. Please say hello to your father for me. Adam, I’ll see you downstairs in the trade office when you’re through with lunch.”
WITH PETER GONE, Adam sat back in his chair and stared, fascinated by the play of her finely shaped fingers against her slender throat. Uneasily, he prepared to listen to Melina. He didn’t know her, or anything about her other than what he’d gleaned during lunch. She was beautiful in the classic Greek way—dark hair, almond-shaped, lavender-colored eyes, slender and tall. She was obviously intelligent or she wouldn’t have been employed as the embassy’s receptionist.
Peter had sent his regards to her parents and her brothers, he mused, so he knew she came from a well-regarded family. But as a housekeeper? Did he dare take a chance?
“Go ahead,” he said, not convinced, but willing to listen. “I’m all ears.”
She glanced at his ears and looked bewildered. Until he laughed and explained. “It’s an old American expression,” he said. “I meant, you have my full attention. Why would you want to help take care of my daughter instead of remaining here in Greece?”
“I will take care of your little girl,” she said slowly before visibly taking another deep breath and plunging on, “in exchange for a green card that will enable me to stay and work in your country later.”
Adam blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him he could be her ticket to the United States. To add to his dilemma, green cards were becoming increasingly difficult to obtain. Melina’s offer, though not exactly conventional, was worthy of consideration if she was as authentic as she seemed. After all, he needed her. Or, at least, someone like her.
On the other hand, he only had her word that she was being let go for economic reasons. Maybe all she had was ambition and a taste for wanderlust. How long would she remain with him as his housekeeper or as his daughter’s nanny once she got her hands on that green card? Was she worth the risk?
The more he thought about Melina’s proposition the more leery he became of the idea of bringing a desirable but virtual stranger into his home.
Adam gazed into her earnest lavender eyes and finally made her an offer no woman in her right mind would accept.
“I don’t need a housekeeper or a nanny,” he said as he remembered Peter’s frank comment. He intended to politely lay his cards on the table for an alternate proposition. A proposition she was bound to turn down and that would afford him a graceful exit. “What I really need is a wife.”
Her eyes narrowed, a blush