Page 23

‘What did you say to him?’

‘I said that a woman as special as you deserved a better wine.’

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, lifting her chin and giving him a direct look.

‘I will leave if you’d like, but I wanted to apologize in person.’ His smile was rueful as he fiddled with the tines of the fork in front of him. ‘I’m sorry that I wasn’t as respectful as I should have been. My mama would have been ashamed. I think she would like a good girl like you.’

Honesty prevented her from letting him continue. She held her hand up to stop him.

‘You stopped when I asked.’

‘But still, Shauna, I should—’

‘I wouldn’t apologize for kissing you.’ Her voice was calm and her gaze on his handsome face direct. He deserved honesty.

Those dark eyes studied her face before he picked up her hand. ‘Does that mean you forgive me?’

‘There’s nothing to forgive.’

‘I feel I’ve been clumsy. I’d like to … will you come out for the day with me tomorrow?’

A whole day with Demetrios, without having to look over her shoulder and worry what anyone might think.

‘Yes,’ she couldn’t help a smile breaking across her face. ‘I’d like that very much.’

Níko returned with a bottle of chilled white wine, the condensation running down the elegant glass bottle. He made much of opening it and pouring it to taste.

‘You taste it first,’ Demetrios told her firmly, pushing the glass towards her.

‘I don’t know anything about wine.’

‘All you need to know is whether you like it or not,’ said Demetrios, watching her face with that careful intensity she was now becoming familiar with.

She sipped at the cool, fresh wine, instantly knowing that this wasn’t anything like the cheap plonk she’d downed in the student union bar. ‘It’s lovely.’

Níko filled both glasses and with beaming approval backed away as if he were their very own fairy godmother. Shauna narrowed her eyes. ‘How did you know I was here?’

‘News travels fast. There aren’t many beautiful, red-headed Irish women on the island and … Níko is a cousin of my father.’

She raised an eyebrow, surprised by this.

‘Don’t be taken in by the humble surroundings. Níko is an extremely successful businessman. This is one of five tavernas he owns, as well as a hotel in Crete. Like me, he gravitates back here in the summer months. This island is our home. Tomorrow I hope to show you why I love it so much.

‘Now, what would you like to eat? Níko’s wife, Teresa, is an excellent chef; she has worked in Paris, Athens and London. Her spanakopita is the best I’ve ever tasted – but don’t repeat that, my yaya would never forgive me.’ Over the top of the menu his eyes crinkled at her with a conspiratorial smile that made her think of a small boy up to no good.

‘I promise.’ She grinned back at him. ‘But only if you tell me what it is. And what is a yaya?’

‘In Greek γιαγια means grandmother. And spanakopita is a filo pastry pie with a filling of feta cheese and spinach flavoured with dill and parsley. It’s delicious.’ He leaned forward and added in a confiding whisper, ‘Chantelle makes a very good version on board the yacht.’

‘She spoils you. Doesn’t it get …’ Her voice began to trail off, but he tilted his head encouragingly, ‘I’m not sure I’d like it if everyone always said yes to me.’

‘You have it all wrong,’ he replied, with a twitch of his mouth. ‘My father is harder to please than most. The work we did has pleased him, though. I am in his good books for once.’

‘Weren’t you before?’

Demetrios tilted his head, thinking before he spoke. ‘My father … some people think he’s a hard man, but all he’s ever wanted was provide for his family. He helped Níko get started. He’s generous to people who are prepared to work hard, and he despises laziness. He thinks I need direction, and that’s what he’s been trying to provide me with for the last couple of years.’

When the food arrived, it was every bit as good as Demetrios had promised. Shauna bit into the crisp flaky pastry and sighed with pleasure at the contrast of sharp, salty feta with herby spinach. ‘This is delicious.’