The Greek Tycoon's Virgin Wife

Yet the feeling persisted, making it difficult for her to relax.

Ilana ate mechanically, forking morsels of delectable food into her mouth without really tasting a thing.

It didn’t help to be aware her apparent coupling with Xandro garnered interested speculation. Or that Xandro was the focus of Danika’s attention.

Was he bent on publicly denouncing whatever relationship he’d enjoyed with the glamorous model?

‘No.’

His quietly spoken negation momentarily startled her, and she didn’t pretend to misunderstand as she met his inscrutable gaze.

‘Really?’ She arched an expressive eyebrow.

‘No.’

The reiteration held an inflexibility she couldn’t ignore, and she hated the tense knot tightening in her stomach.

She wanted to demand what are you doing? Except the words remained unuttered as she deliberately turned her attention to a neighbouring dining companion and engaged him in meaningless social niceties.

Yet Xandro’s presence was inescapable, and it irked her unbearably that he had the power to unsettle her nervous system to the extent she became conscious of each movement, every breath she took.

Did he know?

Dear God, she fervently hoped not!

The dinner seemed to take forever, concluding with coffee and a worthy if wordy speech by the nominated-charity chairperson.

Muted music filtered through strategically placed speakers, providing a reason for guests to move freely among the tables, converse…and for many it signalled an end to a pleasant evening.

Any minute soon Liliana would rise to her feet, thank fellow table guests for their patronage, bid them good night…and Ilana would be free of Xandro’s disturbing presence.

Except her relief was short-lived, as Xandro expressed his intention to escort them to the lobby.

‘It isn’t necessary.’

‘On the contrary.’ He cupped her elbow, exerting slight pressure as she surreptitiously endeavoured to put some distance between them.

Don’t, she wanted to protest.

‘I’m considering setting up an auction to benefit the Leukaemia Foundation, and I’d appreciate Liliana’s advice.’

Her mother showed genuine delight. ‘How generous of you. Of course I’ll be only too pleased to help in any way I can.’

‘Good,’ Xandro concurred smoothly. ‘With that in mind, perhaps you’ll both accept an invitation to dine with me in order to discuss details? Shall we say Thursday of next week?’

‘Thank you.’

Liliana would, Ilana knew, rearrange her social schedule in the blink of an eye to accommodate Xandro Caramanis.

They reached the lobby, and Xandro signalled the concierge to have his car and her own brought up from valet parking.

Within minutes a silver Bentley GT slid to a halt outside the main entrance.

‘Seven o’clock,’ Xandro indicated, withdrawing a card from his billfold and penning a few lines on the reverse side. ‘My home.’

With an economy of movement he passed a tip to the bellboy, then he slid in behind the wheel and eased the sleek car out into the flow of traffic.

Seconds later Ilana’s dark blue BMW slid to a halt, and Liliana waited only until Ilana cleared the hotel vicinity before voicing,

‘What a lovely invitation, darling. And quite a coup to have Xandro request my help.’

What could she say, other than…‘So it would seem’?

‘You have reservations?’

Several. Although she refused to settle on any one.

‘You must go, of course.’

‘We, darling. As in both of us.’

Ilana brought the car to a halt at an intersection. ‘Maman, no,’ she said gently.

Liliana offered a pensive look. ‘You won’t change your mind?’

Not any time this century, she silently vowed. The less she came into contact with Xandro Caramanis the better!

CHAPTER TWO

PREPARATIONS FOR THE current Fashion Design Awards ensured Ilana spent most of the weekend in the workroom as she checked and re-checked the selection of garments both she and her partner, Micki, had chosen to enter in the various sections.

The judging process comprised examination of the fabric, stitching and finishing by a panel of experts who provided a grading in advance of the final catwalk judging.

Which meant ensuring every detail was perfect…or as near to perfect as it was possible to get.

Winning in any category added to a designer’s status, lifting interest and sales. Although for Ilana, the focus was on fashioning quality fabric into faultlessly assembled stylish garments.

As a child she’d adored dressing her dolls, and with Liliana’s help she had made patterns and cut and fashioned her own range of dolls’ clothes, progressing to designing and making her own outfits.

A degree in fashion design followed by an apprenticeship with one of Australia’s top designers had eventually provided the opportunity to work overseas for a few years…Paris, Milan and London, before she returned to Sydney, where she’d set up her own workroom.

Diligence and hard work had seen her acquire recognition among her peers, with the Arabelle label rated highly among the social set.

While Ilana possessed the talent and expertise with design, needle and thread, it was her childhood friend, Micki Taylor, whose business nous completed their successful partnership.

Micki’s flair for selecting the right accessories was faultless, for she had the ability to put together a successful fashion showing that lifted it above the rest.

Ilana loved the creative aspect of transforming a vision into reality. To be able to look at a fabric and visualise the finished garment was a gift…one she didn’t regard lightly. Colour, fabric, style. She lived to make it work and come alive. Infinitely special to the woman who bought it. Any accolades and awards were a bonus.