‘Yeah. I am. Which is good for you as I can shape the role to your talents. I have input from top designers and consultants for the building and fit-out. I’ve got my key hospitality staff on contract. But I want someone to work with me on fine-tuning the offer to guests and with the publicity. Establishing an exclusive well-being resort on a private island is something different for me.’
‘That is quite a challenge,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he said. And a much-needed distraction. He’d go crazy if he didn’t throw himself into a big, all-consuming project.
He’d thought he could walk away from his business. The business he blamed for Mia’s death. She’d been a chef in one of his restaurants when he’d met her. There had been a strict company rule against fraternising between staff in his businesses. He’d instigated it and he’d broken it when he’d become beguiled by Mia. They’d been living together—her pushing for marriage, he putting it off—when the chef at his busiest city lunchtime venue had been injured in an accident on the way to work. Mia was having a rostered day off. Alex had pulled rank and insisted she go into work that day to replace the chef. He could not take that memory out again, to pick and prod at it, a wound that would never heal.
Since he’d been away, he’d discreetly sold off his Sydney venues one by one. All except Athina. He couldn’t bear to let his inheritance from his grandfather go. Financially he never needed to work again. But he had to work. He hadn’t realised how much his work had defined him until he hadn’t had it to occupy himself day after lonely day.
Dell’s auburn brows drew together in a frown. ‘Why me? There must be more experienced people around who would jump at the chance to work with you on such a project.’
He didn’t want to mention fate or kismet or whatever it was that had sent her here. The hunch that made him think she was what he needed right now. ‘But it’s you I want. And you need a job.’
‘The role does interest me,’ she said cautiously. ‘Although I’d want to keep my blog. It’s important to me.’
‘I see your blog as an asset, complementary to your work with me,’ he said. ‘You could utilise it for soft publicity, along with social media.’
She nodded. ‘I’ll consider that.’
‘I’m thinking the title of Publicity Director,’ he said. He named a handsome salary.
She blinked. ‘That definitely interests me,’ she said.
‘I pay well and expect utmost commitment in return.’
‘I have no issue with that,’ she said. ‘I’ve been described more than once as a workaholic.’
Her mouth set in a rigid line and he wondered if it was the ex-husband who had criticised her. He remembered wondering why he hadn’t been at court to support his wife during the case. ‘Truth is, if I get really involved, the line between work and interest blurs,’ she said.
As it always had with him. ‘I think you’ll find this interesting,’ he said. ‘The project is under way but the best is yet to come. You’d be coming on board at an exciting time. I want to open in June.’
Her eyes widened. ‘It’s already April. Isn’t that leaving it late?’
‘Agree. It’s cutting it fine. I won’t expect full occupancy until next year.’
‘When would you want me to start?’ she asked. He could sense her simmering excitement. ‘Because I’m firing with ideas already.’
‘A week. Two weeks max.’
She smiled. ‘I could do that.’ That big embracing smile was finally aimed at him. For a moment, he had to close his eyes against its dazzle. ‘I love the idea of an exclusive private island. Where is it? North of Sydney? Queensland? South Australia?’
He shook his head. ‘Greece.’
‘Greece? I... I wasn’t expecting that.’
Alex had expected her to react with excitement. Not a clouding of her eyes and a disappointed turn down of her mouth. He frowned.
‘My island of Kosmima is in northern Greece where my ancestors come from. Where I’ve been living with my Greek family since I left Australia. The most beautiful private island in the Ionian Sea. I’m sure you would love it.’
* * *
Of course she would love it.
Dell had always wanted to visit Greece. It had held a fascination for her since she’d studied ancient history at school. The mythology. The history. The ancient buildings. She wanted to climb the Acropolis in Athens to see the Parthenon. To visit the picturesque islands with their whitewashed buildings and blue roofs. There was nowhere in the world she wanted to visit more than Greece.
But travel had long been off the cards. She’d committed young to her high-school boyfriend and been caught up in mortgages and marriage to a man who hadn’t had an ounce of wanderlust in him. She’d travelled some with her parents and longed to travel more. Even to live abroad one day.
But there was something else she’d wanted more. Wanted so desperately she’d put all her other dreams on hold to pursue it.
‘I...assumed the job was in Australia,’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘No new venues in Australia for the foreseeable future. Europe is where I want to be. But I’d like a fellow Australian on board with me. Someone who knows about my businesses here, understands how things operate. In other words, you.’
So this was how it felt when big dreams collided.
Dell swallowed hard against the pain of her disappointment. ‘I’m very sorry, but I’m going to have to say no to your job offer. I can’t possibly go to Greece.’
His dark eyebrows rose in disbelief. She had knocked back what anyone might term a dream job. Her dream job. She suspected Alex wasn’t used to people saying no to him. But there was disappointment too in those black eyes. He had created a role just for her, tailored to her skills. She was grateful for the confidence he had put in her ability.
But she couldn’t tell him why she had to turn down the most enticing offer she was ever likely to get. Why she couldn’t be far away from home. That there was a chance she might be pregnant.
WHEN DELL HAD been a little girl and people asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she had always replied she wanted to be a mummy. They had laughed and asked what else, but she had stubbornly stood her ground.
She didn’t know why, as heaven knew her mother hadn’t been particularly maternal. And her father had verged on the indifferent. Both her parents had been—still were—research scientists for multinational pharmaceutical companies. She suspected they would have been happy to stop at the one child, her older brother, and when she’d come along when he’d been five she’d been more of an inconvenience than a joy. Her brother was of a scientific bent like her parents. She, while as intelligent, had broader interests they didn’t share or understand.
As a child, Dell had loved her dolls, her kitten, her books and food. Her mother was a haphazard cook and by the time she was twelve Dell had been cooking for the family. It became a passion.
At the insistence of her parents, she had completed a degree in food science. A future in the laboratory of a major grocery manufacturer beckoned. Instead, to the horror of her parents, after graduation she went straight to work as an editorial assistant on a suburban newspaper. She showed a flair for restaurant reviewing and articles about food and lifestyle and