by Tarr, Hope
…
Nick took a last sip of espresso and set the cup down on its saucer. “Thank you for a lovely evening. I cannot recall the last time I sat down to such a superb supper. I’ve never tasted more succulent lamb,” he added truthfully, looking over the counter to Stefanie.
Despite her persistent good grace, the evening had taken a visible toll. Her lipstick had been bitten off. Her naked lips looked plump and inviting and infinitely kissable. The pins holding up her abundant hair had likewise come loose. Much of her thick, silky tresses trailed her back. Imagining her looking thus after a night of vigorous lovemaking had Nick thickening.
This wasn’t like him. Contrary to the tabloid tales, he’d never had a problem keeping his lust in check. Whether indulging in a three-way with twin actresses backstage at a Hollywood premiere or an X-rated soak with a sexy female ski instructor in an Aspen hot tub, his recreational sex had always stayed exactly that—a fun way to blow off steam after hours. Never had he mixed business with pleasure—and he’d no doubt that going to bed with Stefanie would be a very great pleasure indeed. Since he’d first set eyes on her standing in her doorway, he hadn’t been able to stop mentally peeling off her clothes.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” the detestable stepmother, Jacquie, preened, as though she’d contributed so much as a crumb. “Once my husband is recovered, I hope to host you at our home. It’s much more suitable for entertaining and both my girls are excellent cooks. I taught them myself.”
Nick looked pointedly at the plastic platter of withering vegetables and then back to her. With her sprayed and teased hair, icy eyes, and angular body bundled atop the stool, she reminded him of a Gorgon. Taking such a woman to wife didn’t speak well for Stefanie’s father. Small wonder Olympia Development was in such turmoil. A man who mismanaged his domestic life couldn’t be expected to fare better in business.
“Remind me again of the nature of his ailment,” he asked, purely to bait her.
She hesitated. “Pneumonia.”
“No, Mom, bronchitis,” her insipid twin daughters chorused.
“The flu,” Stefanie put in firmly, darting the trio an exasperated look.
The byplay established Stefanie as the clear leader, her father’s loyal agent. Tucking that knowledge away for later, Nick smiled. “No wonder he is feeling…how is it you say…under the weather. Job himself could not have been more afflicted.” Snuffling sounds drew his attention over to Mara. Nestled on the stool next to his, she slumped over the counter, her head resting on her folded arms. Despite the two servings of baklava she’d recently inhaled, any sugar rush had bottomed. “It is growing late. We must make our way to our hotel.” Setting his napkin aside, he slid off the stool and stood, grateful that he’d worn his shirt untucked.
“Must you go so soon?” Jacquie asked, puckering her lips into a pout. “I feel as if we all just sat down.”
Stefanie had not sat down at all, though Nick refrained from saying so. Leader or not, she’d spent the entirety of the meal waiting on them all. Instead of offering to help, her stepfamily had treated her almost as a servant, flooding her with complaints. Really, hadn’t she thought to chill more wine? Why wasn’t there skim milk instead of cream for their supersized American coffees? Whoever heard of serving a heavy dessert at this time of night? Wouldn’t fruit have been a healthier choice?
Stefanie must be exhausted and yet not so much as a cross word had left her lips. Had their roles been reversed, Nick would not have shown such forbearance. More than once he’d been tempted to step in and deliver a cutting comeback on her behalf. Each time he’d resisted, reminding himself why he’d made this trip. He had his reasons, 2.5 million of them, none of which involved interfering in the Stefanopoulos family’s private affairs. Championing Stefanie wasn’t his place or his problem, especially when she was so obviously running interference for her father.
“I’m afraid I must. As you can see, it is past Mara’s bedtime.” He took out his phone and tapped a text message to his driver, letting him know he was ready for pickup.
Stefanie spoke up, “Of course, we’ve kept you long enough. You’re both exhausted. I’ll walk you out.”
“Thank you,” Nick said sincerely. It wasn’t often he found himself facing a business opponent possessed of such lovely, solicitous manners. He reached over and lightly touched Mara’s shoulder. “It is time for us to leave, little one,” he said softly so as not to startle her.
She turned her face to the side, her eyelids lifting, her rosebud mouth stretching into a yawn. “Can’t we stay the night with Stefanie?”
He ventured a sideways look to their hostess. The innocent question had her pretty face flaming. Remembering earlier how she’d fed him from her hand, tempting him with bites of her beautiful food, he felt himself throbbing. If she were even half as bold in the bedroom as she was in the kitchen, her future husband would be fortunate indeed.
But he couldn’t afford to have such thoughts about her, couldn’t afford to distract himself in any way. Bringing his gaze back to his child, he shook his head. “We must drive to our hotel where your own big bed awaits.” Easing her off the stool and into his arms, he gazed again to Stefanie. “For all we know, Stefanie may have other plans for the evening.”
Did she? The pretty blue dress had spent most of the evening buried beneath an apron, but that didn’t mean she might not wear it out later. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock. Before Mara, Nick would have been about to begin a night of partying. Bed would have been the furthest thing on his mind—unless there was a nubile model or curvy actress joining him in it. It still amazed him how having a child changed one’s perspective and priorities.
An unbecoming snort drew his attention to the other “guests.” Rising, the three women cast disgruntled looks their way.
The twins exchanged smirking looks. “Stefanie with plans, yeah right,” one of them sneered, rolling her eyes.
Jacquie made a show of chastising her, although the corners of her made-up mouth twitched. “Now, girls, don’t tease your stepsister in front of our guest. Not everyone can be a social butterfly.”
Nick had never before considered shaking a woman, but the vicious remarks made him want to grab the nearest bimbo by the shoulders and shake her until her unnaturally whitened teeth rattled.
“My plans for the rest of the evening involve bed and a book,” Stefanie admitted. Avoiding his gaze, she headed into the hallway.
Mara in his arms, Nick followed. Jacquie and the twins trailed them to the front door.
Opening it, she turned to face him. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“No, thank you,” he said, wishing his arms were momentarily child-free so that he might give her a hug. “You are a wonderful hostess and a credit to your father.”
She swallowed visibly, and Nick’s gaze riveted to the elegant arc of her throat. Given how pretty and nice she was, it was too bad he would likely end the week by going for her jugular. “Thank you, that means a lot. Usually I’m in someone else’s kitchen, overseeing someone else’s parties.”
Catching sight of more smirking from the corner of his eye had him feeling fierce. The twins were too insipid to be taken seriously, but their mean-spirited mother was intolerable. “Such a lovely woman should not be hidden away. She should preside over her own parties where she is seen and appreciated.”
Jingling drew his attention back to the trio clustered by the stairs. “I’m parked in the garage on King. Can we drop you at your hotel?” Jacquie asked, jingling her car keys.
He shook his head. “Thank you, but your husband graciously arranged a car and driver. Surely he must have mentioned it?”
Jacquie’s face fell so swiftly that Nick was surprised her heavy cosmetics didn’t crack, confirming his suspicion that in coming here with her daughters she’d acted behind her husband’s back. He felt a twinge of pity for the man he’d yet to meet. With such a shrew for a wife, it was no wonder his business was bottoming.
; “Of course, it must have slipped my mind.” She elbowed her daughter’s side. “Lettie, don’t you have something you wanted to ask Nick?”
A blank blue stare greeted the question. “I…uh…”
“It was great meeting you,” Lena broke in, sending him a simpering smile. “I’d love to hear more about Greece sometime,” she tacked on, though Nick didn’t recall her being all that interested earlier.
Recovering, Lettie pressed closer. “Yeah, maybe we could like…do something tomorrow? I’m around…all day.” She produced her iPhone, encased in a hot pink case festooned with glittery stickers. “What’s your number? I’ll text you so you have mine.”
Even had he not held Mara, Nick would have left his phone in his pocket. “As delightful as that sounds, Stefanie has graciously granted my request for a tour of your Acropolis Village.”
Jacquie’s blond head swiveled. “Why wasn’t I told?” she demanded, shooting a withering look Stefanie’s way. “I oversee the leasing for all our properties, including Acropolis,” she said, sweetening her tone and turning back to Nick. “What time are you planning to take off? We can all drive over together.”
Nick couldn’t imagine a less-appealing scenario than being cooped up in a car with a harridan such as Jacquie. Being blindsided and pressed into her company for the past few hours had been unavoidable, but he had no intention of spending an entire day similarly captured. “That is most kind but I cannot in good conscience keep you from your ailing husband, whom I am certain you are eager to nurse. Stefanie and I will manage on our own, but should I find myself with questions concerning…leasing, I will be certain to bring them to your direct attention.”
Satisfied he’d put her in her place, he stepped aside, clearing their path to leave. They filed past and out onto the porch, then down the three short steps to the sidewalk, their progress putting him in mind of ducks. He waited until they cut across to the curb before turning back to Stefanie. “Your family is most…interesting.”
She answered with a sigh. “They can be a bit…much, I know.”
Nick didn’t deny it. “I think this is not the mother who taught you to cook such delectable food.”
“No, she’s uh…not. My mother died when I was twelve.”
Her wounded look had him rushing to apologize. Being opponents in a business venture didn’t grant him the right to hurt her personally. “I am sorry. I am too blunt.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It was a long time ago. My parents were very much in love and after my mom…passed, my pop was pretty devastated. He met Jacquie at an open house where she was the listing agent. She was divorced with two little kids, the twins you just met.” Biting her lip, she asked, “H-how uh…long have you and Mara’s mother been married?”
Startled, he said, “I am not married.”
Her beautiful brown eyes widened. “You’re not?”
He shook his head. “No, I have never married.”
She stared as though they were only now meeting. “But I thought… Well, you have Mara with you and— Jeez, I’ve really put my foot in it this time. Please, forget I brought it up.” The apology brought on a fiery flush and bevy of lip biting, none of which struck him as an act.
Wondering why she should care whether he was married or not, Nick nonetheless rushed to reassure her. “Please, it is fine, a natural assumption. Mara is my love child. I do not hide this. Until four months ago, I did not know she existed. Her mother was killed in an accident, and her family contacted me about Mara.” Too ashamed to admit she’d been abandoned to a convent orphanage, he stopped there. “I do hope to marry someday. My parents have been married for more than forty years and, like yours were, they are very much in love. It is, as you Americans say, a difficult act to follow.”
“I think you mean to say a tough act,” she amended with a smile.
Ordinarily Nick disliked being corrected but seeing how his grammar gaffe had erased the shadows from her lovely face, he felt another smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Steering the conversation to a less personal topic, he asked, “What time in the morning shall I come for you?”
She hesitated. “Thanks, but there’s no need for you to backtrack to Virginia. I’ll swing by your hotel and pick you and Mara up. Really, it’s no problem,” she added when he opened his mouth to protest. “Most of my clients live in the District. I usually cut through Georgetown anyway. My catering van likely isn’t what you’re used to but—”
“I am sure it is charming,” he cut in, noting how once again she’d made a point of including Mara. “But you will forgive me if I insist.” Modern though he was in many ways, imposing upon a woman to chauffeur him, even if he was a foreign visitor and the city her home didn’t set well.
“Okay,” she relented, “but traffic in this area can get pretty intense, especially at rush hour.”
Nick held back a smile. As one who’d driven his Formula One Ferrari in several Grand Prix races, he felt confident he could navigate his way around the DC Beltway. “Fortunately I can be…pretty intense myself. Is nine o’clock too early?”
She shook her head, sending more rich brunet hair tumbling. “Nine’s perfect. If you come a bit before, we can have breakfast before we leave.”
“Oh no, you have already made this most beautiful meal. I cannot impose again so soon.” When at his flat in Athens, he lived very simply. Other than a part-time housekeeper who came once a week, he lived without servants. Regretting the mess she’d been left, he wished he were at liberty to stay and help her clean up. Were it not for Mara, he would.
She shrugged. “It’s no imposition. Leftover baklava makes a great breakfast, and I have some beautiful fresh fruit from the market.” She reached up and tucked a caramel-colored lock behind her ear. The slight movement brought her full breasts jutting forward.
At cross-purposes though they were, he was hard-pressed not to smack his lips. “I look forward to it with pleasure.”
Car lights and an engine idling had them turning back to the screened door. Peering out, Nick saw that the town car waited.
Drawing back from it, Stefanie she sent him a sleepy smile. “Looks like pumpkin time.”
“Pumpkin time?”
She tilted her head and smiled. “You know, in the Cinderella fairy tale, at midnight everything goes back to the way it was before.”
If only real life worked so neatly. Though he’d read the story to Mara many times, he’d never given it much thought before.
Mara stirred in his arms. “Is it midnight, Papa?” Staying awake to see the magical twelfth hour was a goal she strove to reach.
Stefanie answered for him. “Not yet. Go back to sleep, baby.”
She reached over and stroked the hair back from Mara’s forehead. The gentleness of the gesture struck a chord within Nick. Until now he hadn’t realized that women like Stefanie existed in his generation. Under more neutral circumstances she would be someone he could foresee becoming a friend, perhaps more. Unfortunately she was daughter to the man who owed him a lot of money. If he had to mine Olympia project by project and stone by stone to retrieve it, he would do so. The mother superior and the orphans were depending upon him to honor his word. Letting her hand fall away, she lifted her face to look at him. “I’d better let you get this little one to bed.”
Mesmerized by her mouth—such sweetly parted lips—he nodded. “Kali nichta.” Good night.
“Kali nichta,” she repeated slowly as if she hadn’t spoken the Greek in a while. She slipped past him to open the door, and the closeness of the space brought their bodies brushing.
Nick felt the brief contact almost as an electrical charge frissoning through him. This was more than attraction—this was what those of his parents’ generation called “chemistry.” Who would have imagined that the temptress sent to test his willpower and newfound resolve to put aside his player ways and be a better man would take the form of his business opponent’s daughter?
Thinking God must have a s
ense of humor indeed, Nick shifted Mara in his arms and turned to go. “Sleep well, Stefanie.”
Chapter Four
Thursday, July 3
Why did it have to rain overnight? Stefanie lamented, staring out her screened front door waiting for Nick. Much of Acropolis Village was still a big dig. Any standing water would reduce the unfinished areas to bog land. She schooled herself to stay positive. It was pointless to focus on what she couldn’t change, in this case the forces of nature. To put the best face on the project, she’d try steering her VIP visitor away from the unfinished areas and focus on those that were at least partially built. The private beach was lovely, cleaned up after Hurricane Sandy, and the wildlife sanctuary lovingly restored. And then there was her trump card, her super secret weapon: Mona, a.k.a Mrs. G. Among the current homeowners, the retired office manager from Baltimore City’s Greek Town was the closest to a champion she had. So long as the senior stuck to the script they’d rehearsed, highlighting the development’s very real good points while glossing over the negatives, all should be well.
A gleaming red Ferrari turning onto her street announced Nick’s arrival. By eight thirty, he stood on her stoop dressed in jeans, a collared black shirt, and a cream-colored linen blazer that was clearly custom-made. The crisp fabric fitted him as though sewn to his skin. Imagining anchoring her hands to his broad shoulders and absorbing his steely strength, Stefanie sucked down a steadying breath.
“Good morning,” she said, stepping back for him to enter.
He did, filling her foyer with the same spicy, musky, altogether yummy male scent she’d detected the night before, only intensified. Had he put on cologne with her in mind? She dismissed the flattering thought with the reminder that the other evening he’d come directly from the airport. Today he was freshly showered and shaved, rested and pressed to perfection.
“Kali mera,” he said with a sunny smile, handing her a Starbucks bag filled with pastry. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a rock,” she answered, the lead into what would be a day chockfull of half-truths and deliberate deceptions. The truth was she’d scarcely slept at all, weary and yet too wired to do more than doze. Even when she had managed to drift off, sexy images of Nick had followed her into her dreams.
