Demetri, don’t be such a prig! How would you have felt if you’d discovered Jane was expecting a child and another man maintained he was the father?’
Demetri looked down into his glass. ‘I hope I’d have given her the benefit of the doubt.’
‘How gallant!’ Leo was scornful. ‘Demetri, I know you. You’d have kicked her out and then you’d have torn the other man apart.’
Demetri grunted. ‘That’s some opinion you have of me, Pa.’ He paused. ‘So what are you saying? That I shouldn’t divorce Jane, after all?’He frowned. ‘I thought you were fond ofAriadne.’
‘I am fond of Ariadne.’ His father was impatient. ‘And when you were younger, I used to think she’d make you a good wife.’ He shrugged. ‘But it never happened. ‘You met Jane, and I knew from the moment I saw you two together that she was the one love of your life.’
Demetri’s jaw hardened. ‘That was pretty fanciful, wasn’t it? We didn’t even like one another when we first met.’
‘You may not have liked one another, but you certainly struck sparks off one another,’ remarked Leo reflectively. ‘You were so sure when you walked into the gallery that she was only stringing me a line.’
‘Mmm.’
Demetri didn’t want to remember how it had been, but he couldn’t help the memories from flooding back. Finding his father discussing art with a girl who didn’t look old enough to have left school, let alone be the possessor of an arts degree, had infuriated him.
Though he’d soon realised that his fury was directed towards his father as much as anyone else. Had he been jealous? He supposed he had. He’d certainly resented the fact that the old man had apparently found himself such a young and sexy companion. And when Leo had suggested that she deliver the delicate bronze he’d chosen to his hotel herself, Demetri had swiftly intervened.
He’d offered to collect the sculpture instead. There was no need for Ms Lang to put herself out, he’d said. He’d be passing the gallery again before he left England and he’d be happy to attend to the delivery personally.
Of course, she’d protested that it was no trouble, no trouble at all, and Demetri had been sure that that old harridan, Olga Ivanovitch, had been listening to their conversation and had had her own opinion of why he should want to cut his father out.
But, in the event, it was his father who’d made the decision. Smiling a little smugly, he’d agreed that that was probably the best solution, and consequently, a few days later, Demetri had called at the gallery to collect the purchase…
The gallery had appeared to be on the point of closing, he remembered. Long canvas shades had been drawn down and, when he’d opened the door, he’d half suspected the place was deserted. But then Jane had appeared from the office at the back of the showroom, and his pheromones had kicked into overdrive.
‘I’m afraid we’re closed—’ she was beginning, when she recognised him. ‘Oh, it’s you!’
‘Neh, me,’ he agreed a little tersely. ‘You were expecting me, I think. Did not my assistant warn you I was coming?’
‘Warn me?’ Green eyes sparkled and a look of amusement crossed her face. ‘Are you a dangerous man, Mr Souvakis?’
‘No, just an impatient one.’ Demetri scowled, annoyed that she’d already put him on the defensive. ‘The sculpture— it is ready?’
Her sigh was telling and he felt like an oaf for being so illmannered. ‘It’s ready,’ she conceded, gesturing towards the office behind her. ‘It’s through here. If you’d like to come with me, I’ll get your receipt.
‘Efkaristo.’
He was unnecessarily brusque and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if she’d been particularly flippant. He knew she’d only been trying to be friendly, and he couldn’t understand what it was about her that was causing him to behave so badly.
The office was small, just a couple of filing cabinets against the far wall, a computer and a printer, and a desk that was pre-sently covered with black plastic bags.
‘Sorry about this,’ she said, indicating the bags. ‘I’ve been having a clear-out and I haven’t had time to dump these out the back yet.’ She shoved some papers off a chair. ‘Why don’t you sit down? While I try and locate that receipt.’
Demetri paused in the doorway. She was obviously run off her feet and he wasn’t making life any easier for her by treating her like an inferior.
Coming to an impulsive decision, he came into the room and hefted half a dozen of the plastic bags. ‘Why don’t you show me where you want these putting and then you’ll have room to move around, neh?’
Her eyes widened in surprise and, when she smiled, he was struck by her sudden beauty. He’d already acknowledged that she was an attractive young woman, but, with faint colour giving her cheeks a dusky glow and her mouth with its fuller lower lip parted to reveal the pink tip of her tongue, she was stunning.
‘Oh—that’s very kind of you,’ she began. ‘But those bags are dusty. You might stain your suit.’
‘Don’t worry about it, thespinis,’ he said, oblivious to the fact that his suit was pale grey and anArmani. ‘Out the back, you said?’
‘Yes.’
She stared at him for a moment longer, and then, apparently deciding he meant what he said, she came round the desk again and brushed past him on her way to the door.
It was just the briefest of contacts, but he was aware of her in a way he’d never been aware of a woman before. The slenderness of her body enchanted him and, in the somewhat humid confines of the office, her womanly scent caused a sharp rush of heat to his groin.
But then she was past him and out in the narrow passage-way that led to the back of the building. She opened the door and he saw other bags already stacked outside.
‘Just leave them here,’ she said, stepping out of the way so he could drop his burden. ‘They’ll be collected later.’ She smiled again. ‘Thanks. I do appreciate it.’
‘Efkaristisi mou,’ he said. And when she looked blank, he translated, ‘My pleasure.’
Jane waited until he’d passed through the door again, before shutting and locking it. ‘Well, you must be very strong,’ she murmured, and for the first time she made him smile.
‘Ineh poli evyeniko,’ he told her drily. ‘You’re very kind. I don’t often get compliments like that.’
He could have added that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done any manual labour, but that would have sounded like boasting. Instead, he contented himself with brushing a hand down the front of his suit, pulling a wry face at the smear of dirt that resisted all his efforts to remove it.
‘I’m sure you get plenty of compliments,’ she retorted, apparently not convinced by his denial, going ahead of him along the hall, giving him an uninterrupted view of her back.
Firm shoulders, a narrow
