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Hired by the Impossible Greek Page 4
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Yes, that was where he came unstuck, because ‘and then’ was a slippery slope to the kind of fantasies that made it hard for him to watch Miss Ashford even at this distance without feeling a stirring in his groin.
Pushing out of the car with a determined tilt of his head, Santos strode across the street, arriving at her side before she’d even registered his presence. She glanced up at him and, at the moment of realisation, made a husky noise of acknowledgement that almost skittled the carefully thought out proposal he was about to make, given how much it reminded him of Friday night.
‘Miss Ashford.’ He couldn’t help it. The words were drawled with a hint of sensuality, so her pupils darkened and her cheeks filled with that ready blush once more.
‘Mr Anastakos.’ She took a step back, her eyes failing to meet his. Didn’t she realise how crazy that made him?
‘I need to speak with you.’
‘Oh?’ Her brows drew together and her hands fidgeted with her car keys. ‘You do? About what?’
It was an artless response and inwardly he smiled. If she thought he’d come to talk about their obvious chemistry then it proved she was at least as aware of it as he. It was a short-lived triumph. Desire for this woman would only complicate what he needed, and he was quite certain now that she was essential to his plan.
‘Cameron.’ Her expression shifted speculatively at the mention of the young boy. She hadn’t been expecting that. ‘Do you have a moment?’
‘I...’ Her teeth dragged on her lower lip and her body swayed a little, tiny gestures of temptation that didn’t escape his notice. ‘If it’s a parent-teacher interview then I suggest you make an appointment through the headmaster’s office.’
His smile was laced with scepticism. She’d already shown him how deeply she cared for Cameron. Her objection was weak at best, born of a desire not to act on the crazy, sensual impulses that were fogging them both. ‘It’s important.’
He could feel her prevaricating and then, finally, she sighed. ‘Fine. What is it?’
He gestured towards a bench, a little way down the path in the shade of a considerable elm tree.
‘That’s okay. I don’t have long right now so I suggest you cut right to it.’ She cast a glance at her wristwatch, a small frown pulling at her features. The statement pushed under his skin, making him wonder where she was going, making him wonder a great many things: what was her life like, what did she do outside of school?
‘I’ve thought about your objections to my plans.’
Her eyes clearly showed surprise.
‘You weren’t expecting that?’
‘Frankly? No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Honestly?’
‘Always.’ It was a husky encouragement.
She bit down on her lower lip as she thought about that. ‘You don’t strike me as the kind of man who would change his mind.’
‘No?’
She shook her head. ‘You seem too arrogant for that.’
His brows shifted upwards and she clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes sweetly apologetic. Sweetly? What the hell...?
‘Oh, I still believe taking Cameron to Agrios Nisi is the correct decision.’ He spoke firmly, allaying any relief she might have felt.
Her features shifted, sparking with the defiance that was instantly familiar.
‘Then you haven’t changed your mind?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’ Her disappointment was obvious, her full lips instinctively dropping into a small frown, and he repressed an impulse to wipe his thumb across her lower lip once more to remind himself of how soft and sweet they felt beneath his touch. As if she could read his mind, she lifted her own fingers to her lower lip, tracing the outline there. It was almost painful to watch her reciprocate, so he jabbed his hands in his pockets, focussing on his reasons for being here.
‘I do not want to make Cameron’s life harder than it needs to be. I am, naturally, mindful of what he’s been through, and for how that’s affecting him. I concede that these changes must be overwhelming to the boy and, like you, I want to protect him.’
‘You do?’ Her brow furrowed, her lip dropping further. His body tightened in an immediate and unwelcome response.
‘Of course. Do you think I’m some kind of monster? That I’d revel in my own son’s pain?’
‘I didn’t mean that.’ Her cheeks bloomed into a pink the colour of plum blossoms.
‘Didn’t you?’
He scanned her face—not dowdy, not even remotely. ‘Considered’ would be a better word. Measured. Everything about her was carefully audited, even her reaction in his office. Desire had been swamping them both but she’d pulled herself back, wrapping herself in a veneer of ice, pushing him away before things could get out of hand. Her control was impressive. Or perhaps he was just surprised to meet a woman who wasn’t vying to be taken to bed by him. It had been many years since he’d been turned down—if ever. It was little wonder the experience had dominated his thoughts since. It was the novelty factor.
‘No!’ Her denial was emphatic. ‘But moving him to Greece is, in my opinion, going to be very difficult for him.’
‘And you don’t want that.’
‘No.’ Her voice softened, the hint of a smile curving her lips. ‘I—I told you the other night...’ She stumbled awkwardly over the words. ‘I care for Cameron very deeply. I understand the position is awkward for both of you but you’re the adult. It’s your job to protect him.’
‘And I intend to.’ His eyes sparked with hers, narrowing speculatively. ‘Which brings me to why I’m here.’
She waited, silent, her eyes boring into his now, her lips parted ever so slightly. He wished she wouldn’t do that.
‘I have a proposition for you.’
Her eyes grew more round, her lips parting further as she whooshed out a deep breath. ‘Go on,’ she prompted, though it sounded as if she’d rather do just about anything than hear whatever was coming next.
‘Come with us.’
She blinked, shaking her head a little. ‘What do you mean?’
‘At the end of the school year, I will take Cameron to my island to live. Come with him and help him to adjust to his new life. Help him adjust to me.’ The final request surprised him; he hadn’t planned to admit how hard he was finding it to bond with his son, nor to forgive Cynthia for keeping their child a secret. Whenever he looked at Cameron he could see only what he’d missed out on, not what he’d gained.
‘You’re asking me to go to Agrios Nisi with you?’
‘I’m offering you a job,’ he clarified. ‘Six weeks as Cameron’s companion.’
Amelia frowned, again shaking her head a little. ‘He has a nanny.’
‘He’s had three nannies since his mother died but, yes, right now he has a nanny and she seems competent. I think he probably likes her better than the other two. However, she is a career nanny. While she takes excellent care of him, I don’t feel that she has much of a personal connection with Cameron. You apparently do.’
Amelia looked sideways a moment, lifting a hand and brushing her hair from her face. She wore on her middle finger a gold ring with a flat face, the kind of ring one might get at a college graduation ceremony. He didn’t recognise the engraving; and she moved her hand again, much too quickly for him to commit the design to memory.
‘I think Cameron is a very unique little boy and what he’s been through...’ Her voice tapered off a little, her eyes suspiciously moist. But when she turned back to face him there was a strength in her eyes, a look of determination. ‘I care for all my students, Mr Anastakos.’
‘But particularly for Cameron.’
She bit down on her lower lip, anguish in her eyes. He could feel her prevarication, her torment. She wanted to accept his offer but she was scared. Of what—him? Of what happened between t
hem the other night?
‘This would be a formal offer of employment,’ he said smoothly. ‘My lawyer would arrange a contract, you’d be paid a salary—given set hours and weekends—just like a regular job.’ And then, after a pause, ‘I would expect nothing of you personally.’
He saw his words affecting her, drawing her out, and she made a noise of consideration.
‘I don’t know. On the one hand, I’d do anything for Cameron, but...’
‘But?’ He challenged, though he knew the answer. Their chemistry frightened her. For whatever reason, the strength of desire that had arced between them wasn’t something she wanted to indulge—ever.
Desperation drove him to tighten the screws regardless. ‘Let’s be clear: my plans will not change. One way or another, in two weeks I will take Cameron with me, away from here. If you care about him, and want to help ease him through the transition period, then accept my offer.’
She sucked in a sharp breath. ‘You know, this runs pretty darned close to emotional blackmail.’
His expression didn’t shift but he was left wondering in what way this didn’t constitute full-blown emotional blackmail.
She flicked a glance at her wristwatch. ‘I have to go.’
Something uncomfortably like panic had him reaching for her wrist, his fingers curving around her fine bones, his thumb padding over her skin before he could stop himself. ‘Wait.’ The word emerged as a deep, husky command. ‘You haven’t given me an answer.’
‘Do I get to think about it?’
‘Do you need to think about it?’
She pulled her hand away, rubbing her wrist; her eyes holding his were awash with doubts. ‘I would have conditions.’
‘Go on.’ He dropped her hand, stepping backward, crossing his arms over his chest. He forced himself to give her the entirety of his concentration.
‘I have work commitments outside of the school. I’d need an office for my use.’
That sparked his curiosity—hell, it ignited it into a full-blown fireball—but he knew better than to probe her further at this point. Once she was on the island, he could ask her all sorts of questions, if he found she still held his interest. Not now, while her acceptance was in the balance.
‘That is not a problem.’
‘Okay.’ She chewed on her lip in a way that drove him utterly crazy.
‘Okay? You’ll do it?’
She stopped nodding and frowned. ‘Okay, I’ll think about it. Send me a contract and I’ll advise your lawyers as to my response.’
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE HAD TO be crazy. For two weeks she’d back-flipped on this, wondering at her acceptance of this summer job—which was how she’d taken to thinking of it, the only way she could deal with what she’d accepted without going into a full-blown panic.
It was just work. A temporary assignment. And, more than that, it was an opportunity to help Cameron get through another trauma in his life. She knew what change was like for children—how many times had she been forced to move, to meet new people, to accept new teachers, homes, experiences? Her childhood had been marked by extreme loneliness, a state of utter sadness and displacement almost all the time, all set against a backdrop that making her parents proud was the only way she could make them love her.
People didn’t seem to realise that having a very high IQ didn’t obviate the normal developmental milestones. Amelia had been plagued by nightmares as a child, one in particular—being consumed by a void, an impenetrable darkness that filled her lungs with bleakness and a weight of despair from which she could never escape. Whenever she’d experienced that terror she’d woken and cried for her mother—but she’d never been there. Often, there had been no one who could comfort her.
Loneliness was familiar to Amelia and she hated that Cameron was going through that now. She wanted to comfort him and that was why she’d agreed to this. It wasn’t the exorbitant amount Santos was paying her—her consulting work paid well; she didn’t need the money. And it certainly wasn’t for any other personal consideration. Santos was no draw-card whatsoever. If anything, he was a disincentive, a reason to refuse his offer.
But Cameron overrode every single one of those concerns. So here she was, holding the little boy’s hand as the helicopter circled lower over an island that was beyond anything she could have imagined. Lush greenery grew quite wild over most of it, with a small village in the north and pristine, white sand all around. The water that lapped at the island’s edges was aquamarine.
As the helicopter came down lower, Amelia picked out an enormous house right on the water’s edge, rendered in white with miles of tinted glass, making it impossible to see into it. The house was a testament to modern architecture, all clean lines and simple aesthetic. There was a swimming pool, several tennis courts, a fruit grove, a golf course and, as she looked towards the water, she saw a jetty at which were moored a yacht and several smaller crafts—speedboats and jet skis lined up side by side.
A curl of derision escaped onto her lips before she could contain it—of course a playboy like Santos had all the toys to go with the title.
She told herself that the butterflies in her tummy had to do with the rapid descent towards the island and nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that soon she would see him again. Santos. She knew from Cameron that Santos had travelled to the island a few days ago, leaving the little boy in the care of his nanny, Talia. Amelia had suppressed her disapproval. Now that she was here, she could see some stability for Cameron’s life.
The helicopter came in even lower, and beside her Cameron was very still and watchful. She angled her face, something clutching in the region of her heart. The first time she’d seen the little boy, he’d looked a bit like this. Far less well-dressed; his uniform had been stained—second-hand, Amelia had gathered—and quite ill-fitting. His face, though, had held a familiar sense of awe, and she’d understood it. He’d been starting nursery and she’d been doing her first teacher’s assistant rotation—she’d told him she was nervous too, and that perhaps they’d feel better if they sat side by side.
He’d moved into different classes over the last few years but she’d always kept an eye out for him and had welcomed him to her class this year with absolute delight. Seeing his grief at the shocking death of his mother had hit Amelia right in the chest—she’d cried with him, for him, and on that first night had wished she could bundle him into her arms and take him home. The instinct had surprised her.
Amelia wasn’t maternal. Her childhood had been as far removed from ‘normal’ as was possible. She had no idea how to be someone’s parent, and no desire to be either. But there was something about Cameron with his soulful blue-grey eyes that had buried itself deep into her heart. Not loving him wasn’t an option. It wasn’t permitted to have favourite students, and she’d taken great care not to show a preference, but that hadn’t meant she didn’t feel it.
The same nervousness and anxiety she’d sensed in him as a slender little three-year-old was in his face now. She put a hand on his knee reassuringly and squeezed. ‘The island looks beautiful.’
He turned to face her, those eyes that she’d fallen in love with haunting her now, because it was impossible not to see his father in their depths. They were identical—the same shape and colour, each set rimmed with thick, curling lashes. But this wasn’t about Santos Anastakos. That wasn’t why she’d accepted this job. It was all for Cameron.
‘It looks hot.’
‘You don’t like the heat?’
He lifted his shoulders and turned away from her, his fragility palpable despite his above-average height. ‘No. Not really.’
Amelia smiled but it was forced onto her face. She didn’t particularly like the heat either but they’d both have to tolerate it for this summer. The helicopter touched down on the roof of the house and a moment later a man appeared, followed by a woman. Both were dres
sed in immaculate steel-grey suits.
‘Miss Ashford,’ the man greeted her, shouting to be heard over the whir of the spinning helicopter blades. She dipped her head forward as the helicopter pilot had instructed her to do, clutching Cameron’s hand in her own, guiding him down the steps and away from the aircraft. The heat hit her like a wave in the face, sultry and thick, the air so warm it burst flame into her lungs.
‘Yes?’ she said when they were at a safe distance. Talia, the nanny, followed behind.
‘I’m Leo.’ He smiled, a kindly smile that matched his bearing. He wasn’t much taller than her, though there was a tautness to him, a strength she could feel emanating from his muscular frame. ‘I run security on the island and for Mr Anastakos generally. I’ll be coordinating things for Cameron.’
‘Things?’ Amelia prompted impatiently.
‘Security for any day trips, routines, that sort of thing.’ He spoke with a Greek accent, though it was different from Santos’s.
Amelia compressed her lips, ignoring the shift of disapproval. Given what Santos was worth, it wasn’t entirely unreasonable that there should be some kind of security measure for Cameron yet it was just another adjustment for the young boy to make.
‘I presume that here on the island he won’t need too much?’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘This place is a fortress.’
She arched a brow. ‘A fortress you can reach by air or sea?’ She gestured to the expansive ocean surrounding the island.
‘Under surveillance,’ he amended with a grin.
‘I’m Chloe.’ The woman behind him reached around to shake Amelia’s hand. ‘I run the house.’
Amelia nodded, wondering at the grandness of that—having a housekeeper and a security manager. It didn’t surprise her, and yet she couldn’t imagine living in such a fashion.