He braced himself even as he turned around, to see a group of women by the counter all looking at him. When he turned their way, one of them snapped a photo. He grimaced as he spun back to Genevieve.
‘No.’
‘They seem to know you.’
He dipped his head in silent acknowledgement.
Genevieve’s voice was a little uneven when she spoke next, her eyes widening. He could practically see the penny dropping. Slowly, but dropping nonetheless. ‘But you grew up around here, so they must know you, or your parents…’
‘They know of me, not me personally.’
Genevieve sat a little straighter, voice strained. ‘Why would they know of you?’
‘Because I’m Nikos Konstantinou and in Greece, at least, that makes me famous.’
Chapter Nine
‘NOT JUST INGREECE,’ she said, voice shaking, looking around with a sinking feeling of absolute desperation. And though Genevieve rarely drank alcohol, she reached for the wine and finished her glass, panic setting her nerves on edge. ‘You’re famous everywhere. Nikos. Oh my God. You’re Nikos Konstantinou. You are…very famous,’ she hissed. ‘How could you not tell me this?’ But how had she not put two and two together? True, he looked very different from any mental image she had of the man—and even then, it wasn’t as though she had a clear image. It was hisnamethat was synonymous with success and wealth, hisnamethat was spoken in all the business circles.
He grimaced. ‘Does it matter?’
‘Not on the island, no, and not to me. I don’t carewhoyou are. But those people were taking photos of you. Ofus. If they end up on the Internet, or on gossip sites—’
‘They will,’ he muttered, tone frustrated. ‘The flipside of living a reclusive life is that when I show my face anywhere, it makes the news.’
‘The news,’ she exclaimed, looking around urgently. ‘I need to get out of here. At least this doesn’t look too bad. I can explain having lunch with you,’ she rambled, reaching into her handbag and pulling out some money, placing it on the table between them as she stood. ‘No one needs to know— Oh, God. But the lobby. You had your arm around me for minutes. Someone probably saw, and took photos there, right?’
He nodded once.
‘Oh Nikos,’ she groaned, dropping her head into her hands. ‘I have to get out of here,’ she repeated, looking around. Nikos was standing then, ignoring the cash she’d left on the table. He reached down and took her hand.
‘No,’ she said, quickly pulling her own away. ‘Don’t touch me. That’s just going to make this so much worse.’
‘Let’s go to your hotel.’
This time, she didn’t argue. At least that was private, and, God knew, sex was the last thing on her mind in that moment. ‘Fine,’ she said, through gritted teeth. ‘Just don’t touch me. I need to think.’
She’d never been so grateful in her life than that she’d suggested a restaurant right next door to her hotel. It was easy to pick their way across the cobblestoned footpath towards the lobby. Now, though, that the shock of seeing Nikos had worn off, she was aware of how many people were looking in their direction. Her stomach was in loops as they rode the elevator side by side, for Genevieve’s part being careful not to so much as brush her hand against his.
The doors opened into a blessedly deserted corridor, with the same mid-century décor—brown and orange accent colours and yellow light shades. She slid the key into the door, twisted it then stepped inside, holding it open for Nikos to pass. Until he stepped into the room, she hadn’t even noticed how narrow the little entrance way was, but it was physically impossible for him to pass by the door when she was standing there without brushing against her. A fact her body rejoiced in even as her mind was trying to calm things down.
He moved beyond her, thank goodness, into the room, allowing her a moment to take in a breath as she shut the door behind them.
‘You’re Nikos Konstantinou,’ she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she raked her gaze across the man in front of her.
Not only was the entrance corridor tiny, but the room seemed it now, too. He looked around, as if at a loss for where to stand, and eventually settled for moving towards the window. His gaze shifted to the view, and she wondered if he was doing what she had so often in the last twenty-four hours: looking for the island.
‘It’s not relevant.’
She compressed her lips.
‘Nikos, this is a disaster.’
He angled his face to hers. ‘That might be the first time any woman has ever had that reaction.’
She ignored his arrogant response. ‘If you’re trying to be funny, quit it. This is not amusing.’
His eyes bored into hers. ‘Do I look amused?’
