“You’re a good woman, Amaya,” he said, and she opened her eyes. A touch of blame laced his voice, as if he cursed himself for being with her.
Cursing himself for not keeping me. The thought occurred to her, but she shook it off.
Slowly, he slid his hand down her chin and tipped it up so she stared deep into his eyes. She parted her lips, leaning for a kiss, but he didn’t inch closer; he remained watching her, his gaze carrying some undecipherable message. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” he said softly, then removed his hand and began to add a bit of each dish to a plate. He handed it to her, serving her.
The simple act squeezed her heart. His housekeeper and driver had served her, and he had done so sexually, but the tenderness of giving her a plate first pulled at her emotional strings. She sucked in a breath and wiped the tears from her face. “Thanks.”
He helped himself to some food and took a bite of a seasoned beef taco. “This is amazing.”
“My mom used to run a small taco stand.”
“Nice. She must have been a strong woman.”
“Yeah. I miss her every day.” She remembered the times her mother had hugged her tight, when she’d fallen off her bike as a child or experienced typical teenage problems growing up. Her father had always been loving, but in a strict way. Her mother’s embrace carried the answer for most of her difficulties.
He looked away from her, and she glanced at her lap. Shit. She didn’t mean to bring the sad stuff up again.
“Try the queso,” she said, pointing at the small bowl. “One of the couple guys I dated in my teens was crazy for it. I think that’s why he kept on seeing me.” She added a nervous chuckle to lighten the mood.
He grabbed a chip, dunked it in the queso, and took it to his mouth. “Delicious.” Then, he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Though I doubt that’s the only reason anyone would keep coming back for more.”
Chapter Twelve
“Father, we need to talk,” Theo said, striding into his father’s office. His blood ran hot and thick in his veins.
After listening to Amaya the previous night, he couldn’t just ignore the discovery about her parents’ death—which meant, first of all, coming clean to his dad. After all, Bacchus was the co-president and still had a say in the matter. Theo closed the door behind him, securing it. No interruptions could come during this meeting. “It’s about Horace.”
His father sighed, tossing the document he was reading to the side. “What’s your uncle done this time?”
His father gestured for him to sit across from him, but Theo declined and headed to the wet bar kept to entertain clients and business associates. He grabbed an aged bottle of scotch, opened it, and poured a finger into one of the tumblers. His father never drank during the day, so he didn’t bother offering him a shot.
“When he was on one of his monthly trips to Vegas last year, he killed a married couple.”
Color drained from his father’s face, and he shifted in his seat. The planes of his face hardened. “What did you say?”
Theo took a swig of the scotch, the powerful liquid rolling down his throat. He flexed and unflexed his fingers, restless, like a fighter before a match. Too bad the person he wanted to bring down wasn’t in front of him. “According to him, it was an accident. He was driving drunk and they jaywalked. Which is a stretch, of course. If he was behind the wheel intoxicated, then he’s guilty no matter what.” Besides, his uncle had always been a reckless driver.
Bacchus shook his head. “How did you find this out? And is this true?”
Is this true? He snorted. “I heard from Horace himself. He told me because he thought I was plotting against him.”
His father stood and broke one of his own rules by walking to the wet bar and pouring himself a drink in the middle of a workday. Theo parted his lips and was about to ask him if he could mix alcohol with the cholesterol and blood pressure medications, when his father angled his head to the side. “Were you?”
“No.”
“What gave him the idea?” He lifted the tumbler to his thin lips.
Theo clutched the drink in his hand, then sat it aside. To bring his uncle down, he’d have to share about his own adventure with Amaya. “I’ve met an American woman and brought her with me to Athens. He learned of it, and coincidently, she’s the daughter of the couple he killed.”
His father had another swig, then put the tumbler on the counter and rubbed his forehead. “A woman. Why would you bring a woman to Athens so close to your own wedding, son?”
Was his father hard of hearing? After telling him this whole story, the part that annoyed him the most had been about a strange woman who could ruin his marriage plans for his son? Theo snarled. “Who cares? Horace killed two people, and you don’t give a damn.”
His father gritted his teeth. “Of course I do. And he has to pay for what he’s done. But we have to be smart about it. I’ll look into a lawyer specialized in international law to find out what’s the best way to go about it.”
“Good.”
“He’s not worthy of this company, son.” His father cleared his throat. “He’s never been—because of him being older than me, he got most stocks when our father died. But if a scandal regarding his reckless behavior comes out now, it could be the end of Rhodes Enterprises.”
