“I watched the race with Kayla yesterday,” I admitted, feeling shy and somehow proud at the same time.
A slow, pleased grin spread across his face. “I missed you, aggelé mou. The whole time, all I thought about was you.”
My cheeks warmed as I met his gaze. “I missed you too, Santo.”
“Well, well!” Kayla’s delighted voice broke the moment. “What did I miss?”
10
Three nights after returning from Japan, I entered the Christakis dining hall, suited up like a show pony for one of my father’s business dinners. The silk tie constricted my throat like a noose, and I resisted the urge to loosen it for the third time in as many minutes.
Father’s “important” business dinners were exercises in endurance. Tonight’s particularly so, with several Greek business executives in attendance.
I tugged at my collar, scanning the crowd for a friendly face among the sea of corporate vultures and political parasites. Thiswas the price of my scheming. If I wanted Tia to keep the Thalassía contract, I would play the dutiful son at my father’s business functions.
My gaze caught on Kayla, who stood near the far window. She was laughing at something Yiorgos Andino was saying.
Interesting.
Yiorgos had once been Konstantin’s closest friend until they’d fallen for the same girl. She’d chosen Yiorgos in the end, leaving Konstantin nursing a broken heart. Now here was Konstantin’s wife, seemingly captivated by the recently widowed Yiorgos.
“You look like a man contemplating escape,” Dimitrios said, materializing at my side with two crystal tumblers of amber liquid. He handed me one. “Is it because our in house architect is absent this evening?”
“She’ll be down soon,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral despite the flare of protectiveness I felt. “Her hair is apparently not cooperating.”
Tia had wormed her way under my skin. I caught myself looking forward to her smile, anticipating her laughter, seeking her approval. Dangerous territory.
When I’d spotted her at the bar with that man, jealousy had burned through me, making me want to tear him apart. I was losing sight of why I wanted herin Greece.
I drained my glass, forcing down the unease. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tia was a means to Katalina’s humiliation and my satisfaction.
Nothing more. I couldn’t afford to develop real feelings, not when there was an expiration date. I’d simply enjoy her body, her company, while keeping my purpose clear.
“Their hair does need extra care.”
I paused, studying him. “How would you know?”
He seemed startled. “Through observation.”
“When did you—”
Across the room, I caught sight of Katalina’s father, Antonis Tsolakidis, engaged in animated conversation with my father. Katalina stood with them.
Before I could consider the consequences, my feet were already carrying me toward their small circle. My uncle must have sensed my intention because I felt his hand on my arm, attempting to halt my progress.
“Santo,” he warned in a low voice. “This is not the time.”
I shook off his restraining hand. “It’s exactly the time,” I replied, not bothering to look back.
I crossed the room in three strides. My father noticed my approach first. His smile faltered when he registered my expression.
“Ah, Santo,” he said, smoothly integrating me into their circle. “We were just discussing the potential for expanding our Mediterranean shipping routes.”
I nodded perfunctorily. “Fascinating.” My attention zeroed in on Antonis Tsolakidis. “Mr. Tsolakidis, I was hoping to have a word with you.” I ignored Katalina.
Antonis’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Of course, young man. Always time for Aristides’s son.”
My father’s posture stiffened imperceptibly. He recognized the drama brewing, even if Antonis remained oblivious.
