by Sarah Morgan
‘For? For one of your women? We’re not in a relationship, Nik. You don’t have to censor your conversation. And even if we were in a relationship you still wouldn’t need to censor it.’
‘In my experience, most women do not appreciate hearing about their predecessors.’
‘Yes, well the more I hear about the women you’ve known in your life, the more I’m not surprised. Now tell me about how you discovered Skylar.’
‘I asked to see more of her work and was told she was having an exhibition. I managed to get myself invited.’
Lily rocked back on her heels. ‘She never mentioned that she met you.’
‘We never met. I didn’t introduce myself. I went on the first night and she was surrounded by well-wishers, so I simply bought a few pieces and left. That was two years ago.’
‘So she doesn’t know she sold pieces to Nik Zervakis?’
‘A member of my team handled the actual transaction.’
Lily scrambled to her feet. ‘Because you don’t touch real money? She would be so excited if she knew her work was here in your villa. Can I tell her?’
He looked amused. ‘If you think it would interest her, then yes.’
‘Interest her? Of course it would interest her.’ Lily pulled her phone out of her bag and took a photo. ‘I must admit that pot looks perfect there. It needs a large room with lots of light. Did you know she has another exhibition coming up?’ She slipped her phone back into her bag. ‘December in London. An upmarket gallery in Knightsbridge is showing her work. She’s really excited. Her new collection is called Ocean Blue. It’s still sea themed. Brittany showed me some photos.’
‘Will you be going?’
‘To an exhibition in Knightsbridge? Sure. I thought I’d fly in on my private jet, spend a night in the Royal Suite at The Savoy and then get my driver to take me to the exhibition.’ She laughed and then saw something flicker in his eyes. ‘Er—that’s exactly what you’re going to be doing, isn’t it?’
‘My plans aren’t confirmed.’
‘But you do have a private jet.’
‘ZervaCo owns a Gulfstream and a couple of Lear jets.’ He said it as if it was normal and she shook her head, trying not to be intimidated.
For her, wealth was people and family, not money, but still—
‘Seriously, Nik. What am I doing here? To you a Gulfstream is a mode of transport, to me it’s a warm Atlantic current. I used to own a rusty mountain bike until the wheel fell off. I’m the one who works in a dusty museum, digs in the dirt in the summer and cleans other people’s houses to give myself enough money to live. And living doesn’t include jetting across Europe to a friend’s exhibition. I have no idea where I’ll even be in December. I’m job hunting.’
‘Wherever you are, I’ll fly you there. And for your information, I wouldn’t be staying in the Royal Suite.’
‘Because you already own an apartment that most royals would kill for.’ His lack of response told her she was right and she rolled her eyes. ‘Nik, we had an illuminating conversation earlier during which you confessed that you think your new stepmother is only interested in your father’s money. Money is obviously a very big deal to you, so I’m hardly likely to take you up on your offer of a ride in your private jet, am I?’
‘That is different. I’m grateful that you agreed to come here with me,’ he said softly, ‘and taking you to Skylar’s exhibition would be my way of saying thank you.’
‘I don’t need a thank you. And to be honest I’m here because of the conversation I had with your father. My decision didn’t have anything to do with you. We had one night, that’s all. I mean, the sex was great, but I had no trouble walking out of your door that morning. There were no feelings involved.’ She shook her head to add emphasis. ‘Kevlar, that’s me.’
He gave her a long, steady look. ‘I have never met anyone who less resembles that substance.’
‘Up until a week ago I would have agreed with you, but now I’m a changed person. Seriously, I’m enjoying being with you. You’re smoking hot and surprisingly entertaining despite your warped view of relationships, but I am no more in love with you than I am with your supersonic shower. And you don’t owe me anything for bringing me here—in fact I owe you.’ She glanced across the room to the terrace outside. ‘This is the nearest I’ve come to a vacation in a long time. It’s not exactly a hardship being here. I am going to lie in the sun like that lizard out there.’
‘You haven’t met my family yet.’ He paused, his gaze fixed on hers. ‘Think about it. If you change your mind about coming to Skylar’s London exhibition, let me know. The invitation stands. I won’t withdraw it.’
It was a different world.
What would it be like, she wondered, not to have to think about your budget? Not to have to make choices between forfeiting one thing to buy another?
This close she could see the flecks of gold in those dark eyes, the blue-black shadow of his jaw and the almost unbelievably perfect lines of his bone structure. If a scale had been invented to measure sex appeal, she was pretty sure he would have shattered it. She couldn’t look at his mouth without remembering all the ways he’d used it on her body and remembering made her want it again. She wanted to reach out and slide her fingers into that silky dark hair and press her mouth to his. And this time she wanted to do it without the blindfold.
Aware that her mind was straying into forbidden territory she took a step back, reminding herself that money came a poor second to family and this man seemed to be virtually estranged from his father.
‘I won’t change my mind.’
Dragging her gaze from his, she dropped her bag on the floor and unzipped it. ‘I need to hang up my dresses or they’ll be creased. I don’t want to make a bad impression.’
‘There are staff over in the main villa who will help you unpack. I can call them.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Amused by yet more evidence of the differences between their respective lifestyles, she pulled out her clothes. ‘This will take me five minutes at most. And I’d be embarrassed to ask anyone else to hang up a tee shirt that cost the same amount as a cup of coffee. So what happens next?’
‘We are joining my father and Diandra for lunch.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
The expression on his face told her he didn’t share her sentiments. ‘I need to make some calls. Make yourself at home. The fridge is stocked, there are books in the living room. Feel free to use the pool. If there is anything you need, let me know. I’ll be using the office on the other side of the living room.’
What else could she possibly need?
Lily glanced round the villa, which was by far the most luxurious and exclusive place she’d ever stayed.
She had a feeling the only thing she was going to need was a reality check.
* * *
He hadn’t been back here since that summer five years before. It had been an attempt to put the past behind him, but ironically it had succeeded only in making things worse.
The memory of his last visit sat in his head like a muddy stain.
Nik strolled out onto the terrace, hoping the view would relieve his tension, but being here took him right back to his childhood and that was a place he made a point of avoiding.
With a soft curse, he walked back into the room he’d had converted into an office and switched on his laptop.
For the next hour he took an endless stream of calls and then finally, when he couldn’t postpone the moment any longer, he took a quick shower and changed for lunch.
Another day, another wedding.
Mouth grim, he pocketed his phone and strolled through the villa to find Lily.
She was sitting in the shade on the terrace, a glass of iced lemonade by her hand and a book in her lap, staring out across the bright turquoise
blue of the bay.
She hadn’t noticed him and he stood for a moment, watching her. The tension left him to be replaced by tension of a different source. That one night he’d spent with her hadn’t been anywhere near long enough.
He wanted to rip off that pretty blue sundress and take her straight back to bed but he knew that, no matter what she said, she wasn’t the sort of woman to be able to keep her emotions out of the bedroom so he gave her a cool smile as he strolled onto the terrace.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes.’ She slid her feet into a pair of silver ballet flats and put her book on the table. ‘Is there anything I should know? Who will be there?’
‘My father and Diandra. They wanted this lunch to be family only.’
‘In other words your father doesn’t want your first meeting for a long while to be in public.’ She reached for her glass and finished her drink. ‘Don’t worry about me while we’re here. I’m sure I can find a few friendly faces to talk to while you’re mingling.’
He looked down at the curve of her cheeks and the dimple in the corner of her mouth and decided she was the one with the friendly face. If he had to pick a single word to describe her, it would be approachable. She was warm, friendly and he was sure there would be no shortage of guests eager to talk to her. The thought should have reduced his stress because it gave him one less responsibility, but it didn’t.
Despite her claims to being made of Kevlar, he wasn’t convinced she’d managed to manufacture even a thin layer of protection for herself.
He offered to drive her to avoid the heat but she chose to walk and on the way up to the main house she grilled him about his background. Did his father still work? What exactly was his business? Did he have any other family apart from Nik?
His suspicion that she was more comfortable with this gathering than him was confirmed as soon as he walked onto the terrace.
He saw the table by the pool laid for four and felt Lily sneak her hand into his.
‘He wants you to get to know Diandra. He’s trying to build bridges,’ she said softly, her fingers squeezing his. ‘Don’t glare.’
Before he could respond, his father walked out onto the terrace.
‘Niklaus—’ His voice shook and Nik saw the shimmer of tears in his father’s eyes.
Lily extracted her hand from his. ‘Hug him.’ She made it sound simple and Nik wondered whether bringing someone as idealistic as Lily to a reunion as complicated as this one had been entirely sensible, but she and his father obviously thought alike because he walked towards them, arms outstretched.
‘It’s been too long since you were home. Far too long, but the past is behind us. All is forgiven. I have such news to tell you, Niklaus.’
Forgiven?
His feet nailed to the floor by the past and the weight of the secrets his father didn’t know, Nik didn’t move and then he felt Lily’s small hand in his back pushing, harder this time, and he then stepped forward and was embraced by his father so tightly it knocked the air from his lungs.
He felt a heaviness in his chest that had nothing to do with the intensity of his father’s grip. Emotions rushed towards him and he was beginning to wish he’d never agreed to this reunion when Lily stepped forward, breaking the tension of the moment with her warmest, brightest smile and an extended hand that gave his father no choice but to release Nik.
‘I’m Lily Rose. We spoke on the phone. You have a very beautiful home, Mr Zervakis. It’s kind of you to invite me to share your special day.’ Blushing charmingly, she then attempted to speak a few words of Greek, a gesture that both distracted his father and guaranteed a lifetime of devotion.
Nik watched as his dazzled father melted like butter left in the hot sun.
He kissed her hand and switched to heavily accented English. ‘You are welcome in my home, Lily. I’m so happy you are able to join us for what is turning out to be the most special week of my life. This is Diandra.’
For the first time Nik noticed the woman hovering in the background.
He’d assumed she was one of his father’s staff, but now she stepped forward and quietly introduced herself.
Nik noticed that she didn’t quite meet his eye, instead she focused all her attention on Lily as if she were the lifebelt floating on the surface of a deep pool of water.
Diandra clearly had sophisticated radar for detecting sympathy in people, Nik thought, wondering what ‘news’ his father had for them.
Experience led him to assume it was unlikely to be good.
‘I’ve brought you a small gift. I made it myself.’ Lily delved into her bag and handed over a prettily wrapped parcel.
It was a ceramic plate, similar to the one he’d admired in her apartment, decorated with the same pattern of swirling blues and greens.
Nik could see she had real talent and so, apparently, did his father.
‘You made this? But this isn’t your business?’
‘No. I’m an archaeologist. But I did my dissertation on Minoan ceramics so it’s an interest of mine.’
‘You must tell me all about it. And all about yourself. Lily Rose is a beautiful name.’ His father led her towards the table that had been laid next to the pool. Silver gleamed in the sunlight and bowls of olives gleamed glossy dark in beautiful blue bowls. Kostas put Lily’s plate in the centre of the table. ‘Your mother liked flowers?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t know my mother.’ She shot Nik an apologetic look. ‘That’s too much information for a first meeting. Let’s talk about something else.’
But Kostas Zervakis wasn’t so easily deflected. ‘You didn’t know your mother? She passed away when you were young, koukla mou?’
Appalled by that demonstration of insensitivity, Nik shot him an exasperated look and was about to steer the conversation away from such a deeply personal topic when Lily answered.
‘I don’t know what happened to her. She left me in a basket in Kew Gardens in London when I was a few hours old.’
Whatever he’d expected to hear, it hadn’t been that and Nik, who made a point of never asking about a woman’s past, found himself wanting to know more. ‘A basket?’ Her eyes lifted to his and for a moment the presence of other people was forgotten.
‘Yes. I was found by one of the staff and taken to hospital. They called me Lily Rose because I was found among the flowers. They never traced my mother. They assumed she was a teenager who panicked.’ She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone but Nik knew she wasn’t matter-of-fact about the way she felt.
This was why she had shown so much wistful interest in the detail of his family. At the time he hadn’t been able to understand why it would make an interesting topic of conversation, but now he understood that, to her, it was not a frustration or a complication. It was an aspiration.
This was why she dreamed of happy endings, both for herself and other people.
He felt something stir inside him, an emotion that was entirely new to him.
He’d believed himself immune to even the most elaborately constructed sob story, but Lily’s revelation had somehow managed to slide under those steely layers of protection he’d constructed for himself. For some reason, her simply stated story touched him deeply.
Unsettled, he dragged his eyes from her soft mouth and promised himself that no matter how much he wanted her, he wasn’t going to touch her again. It wouldn’t be fair, when their expectations of life were so different. He had no concerns about his own ability to keep a relationship superficial. He did, however, have deep concerns about her ability to do the same and he didn’t want to hurt her.
His father, predictably, was visibly moved by the revelation about her childhood.
‘No family?’ His voice was roughened by emotion. ‘So who raised you, koukla mou?’
‘I was brought up in a series
of foster homes.’ She poked absently at her food. ‘And now I think we should talk about something else because this is definitely too much detail for a first meeting, especially when we’re here to celebrate a wedding.’ Superficially she was as cheerful as ever but Nik knew she was upset.
He was about to make another attempt to change the topic when his father reached out and took Lily’s hand.
‘One day you will have a family of your own. A big family.’
Nik ground his teeth. ‘I don’t think Lily wants to talk about that right now.’
‘I don’t mind.’ Lily sent him a quick smile and then turned back to his father. ‘I hope so. I think family makes you feel anchored and I’ve never had that.’
‘Anchors keep a boat secured in one place,’ Nik said softly, ‘which can be limiting.’
Her gaze met his and he knew she was deciding if his observation was random or a warning.
He wasn’t sure himself. All he knew was that he didn’t want her thinking this was anything other then temporary. He could see she’d had a tough life. He didn’t want to be the one to shatter that optimism and remove the smile from her face.
His father gave a disapproving frown. ‘Ignore him. When it comes to relationships my son behaves like a child in a sweetshop. He gorges his appetites without learning the benefits of selectivity. He enjoys success in everything he touches except, sadly, his private life.’
‘I’m very selective.’ Nik reached for his wine. ‘And given that my private life is exactly the way I want it to be, I consider it an unqualified success.’
He banked down the frustration, wondering how his father, thrice divorced, could consider himself an example to follow.
His father looked at him steadily. ‘All the money in the world will not bring a man the same feeling of contentment as a wife and children, don’t you agree, Lily?’
‘As someone with massive college loans, I wouldn’t dismiss the importance of money,’ Lily said honestly, ‘but I agree that family is the most important thing.’
Feeling as if he’d woken up on the set of a Hollywood rom-com in which he’d been cast in the role of ‘bad guy’, Nik refrained from asking his father which of his wives had ever given him anything other than stomach ulcers and astronomical bills. Surely even he couldn’t reframe his romantic past as anything other than a disaster.
