That drew my attention and I lifted my gaze. ‘You always did know how to throw money at a problem, Jules,’ I said, though not unkindly.
‘Ouch,’ he said, clasping his chest with both hands.
‘Oh, don’t pretend to be insulted –orwounded. You know you’re proud of that.’
He sniggered, tilting his head in concession, and I dropped my eyes back to the menu. But the fatigue I’d felt earlier was settling in and deciding what to have for each course was suddenly too much.
‘Any chance we can ask her to craft a menu for us?’ I asked.
‘Chef’s choice? Absolutely.’
He discreetly raised his forefinger and an Adonis with jet-black hair, tanned olive skin, and the kind of physique that adorns the covers of romance novels appeared.
‘Christos, let Dimitra know we’re happy to leave the menu up to her. And bring a bottle of the Assyrtiko, will you?’
The Adonis – Christos – nodded with a polite smile, his eyes darting to meet mine before he turned and strode towards the kitchen.
‘So,’ I said, shaking off the brief exchange and smiling at Julian, ‘you bought an island.’
He laughed. ‘I did. Are yousureI didn’t mention before?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing playfully.
‘Positive. So, what prompted such an extravagant purchase?’
‘Oh, I don’t want to bore you with all that – not on your first night here. Let’s save that for another time, shall we?’
Sensing a wistfulness beneath Julian’s casual brush-off, I debated probing further, but he’d tell me when he was ready, so I let the topic drop. Besides, the hot waiter had returned with the wine.
Christos made quite the show of presenting the bottle, which was from Santorini, then uncorking it with short, sharp twists of his beautiful hands. My eyes drifted to his forearms, which bulged with each twist, then up to his chiselled face. Actually, calling him anAdonisdidn’t do him justice.
He expertly poured two glasses, then set the bottle in an ice bucket. But before stepping away, his dark-brown eyes met mine again, his lips lifting slightly at the edges. It was obvious that if I wanted, I could have a very handsome Greek man in my bed that night.
But as I’d only just reminded myself, I was on Aetheria to work, not to hook up. And if Ididfeel randy, I’d packed enough toys to scratch that itch.
When I looked back at Julian, he was watching me curiously. ‘He’s a handsome bloke, isn’t he?’ he asked.
‘You think so?’ I quipped with a nose scrunch. ‘I hadn’t really noticed.’
He chuckled softly. ‘You know, you’re very welcome to?—’
‘Jules,’ I said, cutting him off.
‘What? Isn’t it part of your brand, being sexually empowered?’
‘It is, yes, but that’s mostly about supporting my followers – helping them reclaim that part of themselves post-divorce. It doesn’t mean that I’m out there bonking every Tom, Dick, and Harry who looks my way.’
‘Or Christos,’ he interjected.
‘Or Christos – exactly. It’s not about promiscuity, Jules. It’s about agency, confidence, andpleasure– without losing sight of who you are.’
He regarded me thoughtfully. ‘Have you always been this clever?’
I laughed. ‘God, no. But that’s the beauty of growing older, isn’t it?’
‘Mmm,’ he murmured, giving nothing away. Just then he looked past me and broke into a wide smile.
‘Oh, here’s someone you should meet,’ he said. ‘Our trusty skipper – an excellent sailor and a top bloke to boot.’
I turned and looked over my shoulder.
