‘Your father loves you, you know,’ she said softly. ‘He told me that he wishes the two of you were closer.’
Andreas was outraged that Stelios had discussed him with Isla. It felt like a betrayal. ‘With respect,’ he said grittily, ‘my relationship with my father is none of your damn business.’
‘I was simply trying to help. I care about Stelios...’
He snorted. ‘You sound convincing, but unlike my father I am not the least bit taken in by the role of ingénue that you play so well. Let’s face it, Stelios is not the first wealthy old man to be susceptible to your charms. A few years ago you inherited a substantial sum of money from a Major Charles Walters who you had befriended.’
‘It’s true that I was friends with Charles and his wife Enid. I was shocked when I learned that they had left me a bequest but there was nothing grubby or underhand about it.’ Hectic colour flared on Isla’s cheeks. ‘They were an elderly, childless couple who owned the manor house in the village where I grew up, and they were patrons of the local school. When I was a teenager I had a part-time cleaning job at the manor, and Charles and Enid encouraged my hope of going to university. They died within a few months of each other and left legacies to several young people in the village with the stipulation that the money was to go towards paying university fees. Without their generosity, I would have graduated with a huge debt and struggled to continue with my studies.’ She frowned. ‘How did you know I had been left some money?’
‘You were investigated,’ he told her smoothly, watching her grey eyes flash with anger. It gave him a sense of satisfaction knowing he’d rattled her. ‘My family are one of the wealthiest in Greece and, although security here on Louloudi is discreet, I asked the protection team to run some checks on you. My father especially is at risk of being kidnapped and held to ransom by criminal gangs.’
‘I’m not a criminal.’ Isla’s finely arched brows drew together in a frown. ‘Does Stelios know that you had me investigated?’
‘Does he know that you inherited money from another wealthy old man?’ Andreas countered to avoid answering her question.
‘Your father knows everything about me.’
She met Andreas’s gaze across the table and he found himself looking away first, shaken by the honesty in her expression. There was something else, an inexplicable sadness. The shimmer of tears made her grey eyes glisten like wet slate. She was a damn good actress, he thought grimly, but he refused to fall for her little-girl-lost look.
Isla stood up and Andreas was aware of the hard thud of his pulse as the breeze flattened her dress against her body, revealing the swell of her breasts and the gentle curve of her hips. ‘I wish you would believe that I mean your father no harm.’
‘Stelios doesn’t seem to be himself.’ Andreas also got to his feet, frowning as he remembered how exhausted his father had been at the end of the dinner party.
Isla hesitated. ‘He has been working hard.’
The gentle affection in her voice for Stelios evoked a feeling in Andreas that he refused to acknowledge was envy. His mother had not shown him tenderness or affection when he was a child, and since he’d reached adulthood he’d avoided emotional relationships, assuring himself that he neither wanted nor needed love. He swore silently, irritated that Isla made him question the status quo of his life that he’d been perfectly content with until now.
‘Perhaps Stelios is tired for another reason,’ he growled. Isla looked puzzled and he elaborated. ‘You are a lot younger than my father and he might be wearing himself out trying to keep you happy in the bedroom.’
‘Your father and I are not lovers,’ she said stiffly.
‘Why not?’ Andreas’s eyes narrowed when she did not answer. ‘I’m curious about your relationship with Stelios. I watched the two of you at dinner last night and I’d swear you do not feel any sexual attraction for my father.’
‘Not everything is about sex,’ she snapped. ‘Relationships—meaningful relationships, not the love-’em-and-leave-’em kind that you only seem capable of—are about mutual respect, friendship and trust.’
Andreas frowned, unsettled by her fervent words. In an ideal relationship those were the qualities he would want. But he did not believe in happy ever after. Isla certainly sounded convincing, but he was sure she had an ulterior motive for wanting to marry his father. His conscience pricked that he wanted to believe the worst of her. If he believed that she was untrustworthy, it might end his annoying fascination with her. His jaw hardened.
‘My guess is that you are determined to make Stelios wait until after he has married you before you will allow him to take you to bed. As his wife you will have access to his fortune.’
Isla drew an audible breath and swung her hand up to his face, but Andreas’s reactions were quicker and he captured her wrist before she could strike him. ‘I wouldn’t,’ he advised softly.
‘You have a vile mind.’ She was breathing hard and her breasts rose and fell jerkily. Her grey eyes darkened with temper but Andreas could feel the pulse in her wrist beating erratically beneath his thumb. The air between them prickled with sexual awareness and he was certain that Isla felt it as intensely as he did. Her voice cracked when she spoke. ‘I’m not surprised that Stelios doesn’t—’ She broke off and dropped her gaze from his.
‘My father doesn’t approve of me. Is that what you were going to say?’ he drawled. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. He and Stelios hadn’t seen eye to eye for years.
‘He doesn’t feel able to confide in you,’ Isla muttered. ‘I wish you would talk to Stelios and resolve the differences between you, before...’
‘Before...what?’ Andreas’s brows rose. But whatever Isla had been about to say she clearly thought better of it. She pulled her wrist out of his grasp and turned and walked away. He watched her go and cursed beneath his breath.
The differences between him and his father were not easily resolvable. Stelios had been a largely absent parent when Andreas was young, spending the majority of his time running Karelis Corp, and later with his English mistress. But Andreas was no longer a teenager who saw everything as black or white. He understood how his mother’s poor health—she’d often reminded him that she had suffered a stroke due to complications during his birth—must have put a strain on his parents’ relationship. He had never felt loved by either of them. He was the Karelis heir, born and raised to take over the company which had been started by his great-grandfather. His father had not forgiven him for putting his motorbike racing career ahead of his duty—especially as Stelios had put duty to his family before his personal happiness.
Nefeli’s birthday party could not come round soon enough, Andreas brooded as he resumed his seat at the table and forced himself to eat the spanakopita that Toula had made for him. In a few days he would return to California and concentrate on managing Aeolus Racing. Maybe he’d look up the redhead who had flirted with him in a bar before he’d left for Greece. It was weeks since he’d had sex, and celibacy was not a natural state for him. Frustration was no doubt the reason for his inconvenient attraction to his father’s fiancée.
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