what you think,’ he said, enunciating each harsh word with cold precision. ‘And no desire for you to come and invade my privacy with your ridiculous presumption.’
She blinked, half amazed at the blatant insults he delivered with such deliberate cruelty, even as part of her recognised it as a tactic. A defence, and one she was determined to break through. ‘You really are incredibly rude,’ she told him, glad her voice came out evenly. ‘As well as—dare I say it?—short-sighted. I spend more time with your daughter than anyone else does. Maybe you should care what I think.’
Two spots of colour appeared high on Angelos’s sharp cheekbones, but his expression remained glacial, his eyes like chips of dark ice. ‘You overstep yourself, Miss Di Sione,’ he said, his voice a quiet, warning hiss. Talia felt a tremble of fear, and yet courage or perhaps just a deep conviction of what Sofia needed propelled her onwards.
‘So what are you going to do, fire me?’ she demanded as she took a step towards him, felt the heat from his body and inhaled the clean male scent of him. ‘I’m overstepping myself because I care about your daughter. And your behaviour hurts her terribly, even though she tries to hide it. Why can’t you be more—’ She broke off, searching for a word, and Angelos raised his eyebrows, his whole body tensed with suppressed fury.
‘Be more what?’ he asked, biting off each word and spitting it out.
‘Loving,’ she burst out. ‘She’s a little girl. She has so few people in her life. She wants to be loved by her papa.’
Her words seemed to echo in the taut stillness of the room, and for one brief second Angelos’s features twisted in what looked like a grimace of anguish, and Talia felt as if her heart was suspended in her chest as realisation slammed into her. He was hurting...just as Sofia was hurting.
Just as she was hurting.
Then his expression ironed out and he turned away, busying himself with some papers on his desk, his back to her.
‘This conversation is over.’
‘Angelos...’ It was the first time she’d dared to call him by his first name, and it felt weirdly intimate, as if she had just used an endearment. She took a step towards him, reaching a hand out, wanting to touch him, to offer him that little comfort, and her too. She imagined the feel of his shoulder under her palm, hot and hard and strong. She craved that connection, however brief and illusory it was, and she imagined, foolishly perhaps, he craved it too. Yet even so she didn’t dare. ‘Surely someone else,’ she said quietly, ‘Maria or one of the nannies, has spoken to you about this? Has been as concerned as I have?’
‘The other nannies were not nearly as interested in Sofia as you seem to be,’ Angelos answered tonelessly. ‘Now I wonder if that was no bad thing.’ He glanced up at her, his expression as cold and implacable as it ever had been, and Talia knew any moment of connection she had been hoping for was well and truly severed. ‘I am not asking for your opinion on these matters. You are here for a short time only, Talia. You are not part of our lives. In a month you will be gone from here, as good as forgotten.’
The deliberate brutality of his words felt like a slap to the face, a fist to the gut. She blinked rapidly, startled by how hurt she felt by Angelos’s cold statement. She may have only been on Kallos for ten days, but she felt as if she’d become part of Sofia’s life, as if she mattered. And, Talia realised with a stab of remorse, she mattered to so few people in her life. Her grandfather, her brothers and sisters...her circle of loved ones was incredibly small. She hadn’t thought she minded, but now...
‘That may be true,’ she managed when she trusted her voice not to tremble with the force of her hurt. ‘But I’m part of Sofia’s life now. I matter to her now, and she matters to me.’ Angelos simply stared, blatantly unimpressed. Talia fought the urge to cry, or maybe scream. She felt as if she were banging her head against a wall. A very hard wall. Maybe Angelos was right, and she should just stop. It wasn’t as if she’d ever see these people again after the next month. Why was she pushing so much? Why did she care so much?
Because you know how Sofia feels.
She took a deep breath and forced all the feelings back. ‘How long are you staying for this time?’ she asked, and she saw surprise flicker across Angelos’s face at the abrupt change in topic.
‘I have not yet decided. I came to make sure you were doing an adequate job—’
‘And am I?’
‘That remains to be seen,’ Angelos answered coolly. ‘Now, as I said before, this conversation is—’
‘Perhaps you should assess my performance,’ Talia suggested before she lost her courage. She felt reckless now, almost wild; he’d already hurt her so what did she really have to lose? ‘Surely you need to see if I really am doing the thing properly. Appropriately.’ Angelos narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to figure out her game. Talia gave him her sunniest smile, even though she felt fragile inside, ready to break. ‘Tomorrow Sofia and I are going on a picnic,’ she stated, although she hadn’t planned any such thing. ‘I’ve been wanting to walk to the far side of the island. Why don’t you come with us?’
He stared at her for a long moment, a muscle flickering in his jaw, his eyes utterly opaque. Talia waited for his answer, her breath held, trying not to hope too hard.
‘Well played, Miss Di Sione,’ he finally said, and there was a faint note of reluctant admiration in his voice that made Talia release her breath in a relieved rush. ‘You are a positive terrier.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘It wasn’t necessarily meant as one.’ Angelos turned back to his desk, bracing his hands flat on the burnished surface, almost as if he were steeling himself—but for what? ‘As tempting as a picnic sounds,’ he said, ‘I’m afraid I will have to forego such pleasures. I have a lot of work to do.’
‘Why did you come back at all, then?’ Talia demanded, hurt audible in her voice, making her cringe. She’d thought he’d been going to accept, and the intense disappointment she felt at his refusal felt like an overreaction, yet one she couldn’t keep herself from.
‘I told you—’
‘To assess my capabilities? But you haven’t spent any time with me or Sofia. How can you possibly know how capable I am?’
He swung around, anger igniting in his eyes again, making them burn. ‘Why are you so damnably persistent?’
‘Because I know what it’s like to be without a father,’ Talia confessed. She felt the blood rush to her face at this unwarranted admission. ‘Or a mother. I lost both my parents when I was a year old.’
Angelos stared at her for a long moment, his jaw bunched, his arms still folded, and yet Talia sensed a softening in him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he finally said, his voice gruff. ‘I would not wish that on anyone.’
‘Sofia’s already lost her mother,’ Talia pressed while she had an advantage. ‘She needs you—’
‘And she has me.’ He cut her off swiftly, his tone and expression hardening once more. ‘I provide for her every need, and I visit here as often as I can. And frankly, Miss Di Sione, Sofia is better off without me around.’ He swung away again, driving a hand through his hair, his back, taut and quivering with tension, to her. ‘Now, go please,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Before either
