Her first sight of the yacht had inspired a touch of awe. It was beautiful—sleek, gleaming white and riding with a high bow off the water. The main body looked to be longer than her apartment in London and the aft deck could have easily hosted a party for fifty. That’s where she and the other crew could spend off hours. At least the owner was generous with his staff.
Sara frowned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to list admirable attributes. Nikos Konstantinos might be one of the sexiest men she’d ever met, but he was no more than a means to an end for her. She had better not forget that. Besides, Stefano had said this was almost an engagement cruise—a chance for Nikos to decide whether to marry the daughter of a business associate. Sounded cold to her. It also mirrored the same circumstances her mother had been in years ago—an arranged marriage. At least this time it sounded as if the prospective participants were not averse to the plan.
She was astonished to find herself attracted to the man. For a second she had almost forgotten what she was doing and been tempted to flirt. A handsome man, a lonely woman, the perfect romantic setting.
How dumb would that have been?
CHAPTER TWO
NIKOS left the galley to return to the suite that served as both office and bedroom when on board. His chef had been a surprise. Her dark wavy hair had been tied back, with tendrils escaping to frame her face. Her large brown eyes had revealed a wariness that had surprised him. He was used to the awe in which some held him. This was somehow different. Yet her manner had been professional. He’d detected a note of annoyance with the comment about her age. Nikos almost smiled. Touchy—weren’t all great chefs? Though the only ones he’d ever met before had been male. A female chef was a novelty. At least she had not instantly tried to flirt and garner more interest.
He had grown weary of the flirtatious ways of the women he met. If he thought a single one would be interested in him if he had not a dime to spare, he might feel differently. But he’d learned early on that most women wanted one thing—to live a life of luxury—preferably off the proceeds of a susceptible male. His own aborted engagement proved that.
It was as if life were a lottery and he one of the prizes. Nikos did not like to consider himself conceited, but maybe he had grown so with the attention of so many lovely women over the past ten years.
He found Sara’s totally professional attitude refreshing. What would it be like to have people judge him on his own merits? To have a friend who wanted nothing but him as he was?
George Wilson and Marc Swindard were the only two friends to come to mind. Perhaps because they’d shared so many holidays at school when it was too inconvenient for each of them to be flown home. He would send them both e-mails and catch up. Maybe they could get together soon. The demands of business could be consuming. He was guilty of not making more of an effort to get away. But a short trip to New York or London in the near future could be arranged.
Of course, if the idea of marrying Gina Fregulia grew, maybe he’d be contacting his friends to announce his engagement. This time the engagement would be more likely to endure—no lies of love and passion to cloud the issue. He found Gina attractive. She certainly knew how to entertain and moved in the same social circles he did. She’d be a definite asset to the restaurant side of the resort with her knowledge of excellent wines and the contacts her family had.
Nikos pushed open the door to the suite and loosened his tie. He had a little time to catch up on business before he retired for the night.
When Stefano brought his breakfast promptly at seven the next morning, Nikos had been working for almost an hour. The yacht rode at anchor during the night and Nikos had taken advantage of that to have a quick swim in the sea at dawn before showering and dressing for the day. Satellite connections kept him in constant touch with the resort and anyone else who wished to contact him—such as his father, who called just as Stefano put the tray on the desk.
“Have you checked on your grandfather lately?” Andrus asked when Nikos answered the phone.
“Is there a problem?” Nikos asked. It was rare his father spoke of family matters. The shipping business was even more consuming than hotels, especially to Andrus. He had lived for the family shipping company as long as Nikos could remember—to the exclusion of everything else.
“He has some idea about buying another boat to use to get from the island to the mainland. He says the old one is too decrepit.”
“It’s in perfect running order,” Nikos said. He made sure maintenance was always current on all the family’s watercrafts.
“I think he wants a new one, smaller, that he can drive himself. But he’s eighty-two years old. Too old to be jaunting all over the Aegean by himself,” Andrus said in disgust.
“Did you tell him that?” Nikos asked, already knowing the answer.
“Do you think I’m crazy? I thought you could visit, convince him to keep the ship’s crew and make sure he doesn’t do something foolish.”
“My grandfather is not a foolish man,” Nikos said mildly. His father asked him to act as intermediary between them from time to time. It was the closest to familial affection his father got.
“When were you there last?”
“A month ago,” Nikos replied.
“Can you get away soon?” his father asked.
Nikos gazed out of the wide window at the sparkling sea. “I could when my guests leave. I’m entertaining the Fregulias and Onetas right now.”
“Next week, then. Let me know.” His father hung up.
“Want to know how my own business is going?” Nikos said as he hung up the phone. To his father, if one wasn’t in shipping, it was of no account. “Or how about my plans to ask Gina to marry me?” He knew the answer to that one, as well: do as you please. Nikos didn’t mind anymore. His father wasn’t going to change—any more than his grandfather would. If the old man wanted a powerboat so he could operate it himself, he’d get one. Nikos wasn’t going to try to talk him out of it. More power to him. He hoped he was as active when he was eighty-two.
Nikos poured a cup of coffee, surveying the meal. An individual portioned quiche lorraine centered the plate. A fresh fruit compote accompanied it, as well as two slices of a rich walnut bread. How early had Sara risen to have this prepared by seven, he wondered?
He knew so little about his temporary chef. He admitted to being a bit intrigued by a woman who had risen so fast in a field dominated by men. Yet the chief chef had recommended her. That spoke volumes. The fact that she was pretty didn’t hurt, either.
He shook his head and picked up the reservation schedule for the next month. He had other things to do besides think about his temporary chef.
At noon Nikos consulted with the captain and arranged for the ship to stop on one of the smaller islands not too far distant. It would offer his guests a chance to visit the local market and see some of what the Aegean islands had to offer.
Nikos instructed the captain to give the crew the afternoon off and then set sail again at seven. That would allow for dinner on board and some after-dinner conversation before going to his suite for the night.
Shortly after the island came into view, Nikos received a communiqué
