The Mediterranean Tycoon

The boys had raced upstairs, where, presumably, Nikos had his Scalextric laid out. Peta stood in the entrance hall and looked around her. Impressive wasn’t the word. A carved oak staircase curved its way up to a galleried landing. Stained-glass windows cast coloured reflections, and oil paintings, presumably of owners past, decorated the walls. It was like something she’d seen in a film but never first-hand.

He led the way along a lengthy corridor to a huge, comfortable kitchen, where a buxom middle-aged woman stood making pastry. ‘I wasn’t expecting you yet, Mr Papadakis,’ she said, looking flustered. ‘Nor was Bronwen. She’s gone out to meet her boyfriend.’

A harsh frown creased his brow. ‘Perhaps it’s as well she’s leaving,’ he said tersely. ‘Bess, I’d like you to meet Bronwen’s replacement, Peta James. Peta, this is Bess Middleton, my housekeeper.’

The woman’s thin brows rose into untidy grey hair. I wonder how long you’ll last? she seemed to be saying.

‘Hello, Bess.’ Peta held out her hand, then laughed when she realised the other woman’s was covered in flour. ‘I’m not starting until next week. Andreas thought I ought to have a look over the place.’

‘You’ve met Nikos, I take it?’ the woman asked.

Peta nodded. ‘I have a son about Nikos’s age. They’ll be good company for each other. They’re upstairs now.’

‘I see. Good luck, then. I hope you’ll last longer than the others.’

Peta looked at Andreas. She hadn’t realised he was watching her and her face flushed at his intense scrutiny. It was faintly disapproving. Was it because she’d called him Andreas in front of his housekeeper?

‘Come,’ he said abruptly, ‘I’ll show you the rest of the house.’ It was a whistle-stop tour and entirely unnecessary in her opinion, because she’d need a map to find her way around. On the ground floor there were five different reception rooms and a study, while upstairs there were six bedrooms, each with an ensuite bathroom, as well as a spacious room in the attic. It was here that they found Nikos and Ben happily playing with the Scalextric. There was so much of it that it must have cost a small fortune.

‘Mummy,’ said Ben excitedly, ‘look at all this.’

‘It’s wonderful, darling, but I think we ought to be going.’

‘No!’ came the disgruntled response. ‘Not yet—we’ve only just got here.’

‘And you’re going to live here soon,’ she reminded him, ‘so come on, you’ll have plenty of time to play.’

Andreas had hardly spoken on their tour. He’d pointed out which would be her room and which one Ben’s, and she’d seen his bedroom, in shades of burgundy and dark green—an entirely impersonal room with not even a pair of slippers on view. He probably didn’t have time to wear slippers, she’d thought bitterly. He was too manic about work.

‘Leave them,’ he said now. ‘We’ll go to my study and discuss your duties.’

‘Very well.’ She kept her tone crisp and her eyes directly on his, and as soon as they were seated in the oak-panelled room she asked, ‘What have I said that’s made you angry?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not annoyed with you; it’s Bronwen. She had no idea that I wouldn’t need her tonight. She might be working her notice but she has no right to take liberties. I’ve half a mind to tell her to go now.’

‘Except that I can’t start straight away,’ declared Peta. ‘There’s too much to sort out.’

‘Like what?’ he demanded.

‘I have to pack, for one thing. Finalise bills, see about letting, tell everyone where I’ve gone, especially my parents…a hundred and one things.’ Her parents lived in Cornwall, where she herself had been brought up. She’d stayed in Southampton after finishing university, and now only went home on the occasional weekend and during holiday periods. But her mother rang often, wanting to know how she was coping, how Ben was, and why didn’t she come home to live? What would she say when she heard that her precious daughter was moving in with the boss?

‘I can organise most things for you,’ he informed.

‘I’m sure you can, but I’d prefer to do it myself,’ she said tightly. ‘You can see to the letting, if you wish, but everything else I’ll do.’

‘One of the new era of independent females.’ He leaned back in his leather chair and studied her. ‘I’m not sure whether I like it. I think I prefer the chivalrous days when a woman depended on a man, when he cosseted and protected her, when he made her feel feminine and beautiful and very, very much wanted.’

His eyes smouldered, his voice growled, and he looked at her with far more intent than he ever had before. Peta felt her nerve ends quiver. Was he trying to tell her something or was it her imagination? Was she reading what she wanted to read? Or was he interested? Would it be wise to move in with him? Had he manufactured this job especially so that he could get her into his bed?

‘Now what are you thinking?’

‘Why?’

‘You look as though you believe I have designs on you.’

Oh, Lord, was she that transparent? Peta felt her cheeks flame. ‘You couldn’t be further from the truth,’ she said distantly.

‘You have a very expressive face, Peta. Didn’t you know?’

‘And you are jumping to entirely the wrong conclusions. I’m not interested in any man, Mr Papadakis.’

‘Andreas.’

She grimaced. ‘Very well, Andreas, although I don’t think it’s a good idea. Did you see the way your housekeeper looked at me when I called you Andreas?’

‘She was probably wondering how you’d managed to get past the formality stage. Not many people do, I assure you. I find it doesn’t pay.’

Peta wasn’t sure she agreed with that. The senior staff at Linam Shipping would almost certainly feel much happier if they were on first-name terms with him. ‘So I’m honoured?’ she asked.

A faint smile quirked the corners of his mouth. ‘You could say that.’

‘Why?’

He thought for a long moment. ‘Let’s say I felt it would improve our relationship.’

‘You mean you thought you’d get more work out of me?’ she asked smartly, but she couldn’t stop a faint smile.

‘I don’t always think about work, Peta. Ninety-nine per cent of the time, perhaps, but I do have red blood in my veins. I’m not entirely without feelings.’

Peta gave an inward groan. Was she jumping into a situation she would quickly regret? Ought she to tell him to stuff his job? Except that she would be upsetting both boys if she did. Ben would never forgive her; he was so looking forward to living here and having a friend to play with. To say nothing of the extra time she’d be able to spend with him. It was by far the best thing that had happened to her.

‘So,’ she said, pushing these thoughts to the back of her mind, ‘tell me exactly what my duties are going to be.’

It was arranged that she take Nikos to and from school, plan his meals, cook them if Bess wasn’t there, supervise his homework and make sure he always had a supply of clean clothes. All housework would be done by Bess Middleton and a local girl who came in twice a week.

‘Is there anything else you want to ask me?’

Peta shook her head. ‘Nothing that I can think of at the moment.’

‘So it’s settled. You’ll start on Sunday?’

‘I’ll move in late on Sunday,’ she corrected. ‘I’ll need the weekend to tie everything up.’

He nodded, looking well-pleased, and when they stood he shook her hand. ‘Thank you, Peta. I do appreciate all that you’re giving up.’

The scorching heat that ran through her at his touch told her that she was giving up far more than a little cottage and a certain lifestyle. She was in grave danger of giving up her freedom.

CHAPTER FOUR