Page 8

She tutted at herself. The sun has gone to your head, Shauna O’Brien.

Scurrying up the stairs, she arrived on the upper deck and, without thinking, pushed open the door to the master suite.

‘Oh … I’m sorry.’ Like an idiot she stood in the open doorway gaping at Demetrios, who was just buttoning up his shirt. His hair was damp, as if he’d recently showered. Of course, it was. Hence the request for fresh towels.

‘No problem.’ He carried on buttoning his shirt. ‘Go ahead.’

She scurried into the bathroom, her cheeks flaming. Gosh, he must think she was a complete idiot. Quickly, she unfolded one towel onto the rails, placed a couple more on the shelves and scooped up the damp one hanging on the back of the door.

She darted out of the bathroom, hoping to escape without having to speak to him. She hadn’t seen him since the day she’d arrived, but it hadn’t stopped her wondering if he was as good-looking and self-assured as she remembered. Her memory had served her well. He was extremely good-looking and very sure of himself.

‘So, you’re still here,’ he said, before she had taken a pace across the room.

Something about his tone triggered a sharp response that was out of her mouth before she could stop herself: ‘Is there any reason why I shouldn’t be?’

He grinned. ‘Catering to every whim of a bunch of rich assholes isn’t everyone’s idea of a great job.’

Shauna felt he was testing her in some way. ‘I haven’t met anyone who’s an asshole on this ship.’

Demetrios grinned. ‘Yet. There’s still plenty of time until we finish our voyage.’

‘Anyway, they haven’t sacked me yet. Unless you decide that you don’t like the way I folded your towels.’ Again, she’d surprised herself, but there was something about the way he challenged her with his smug self-assurance that brought out her feisty side.

‘I’m sure they’ll be perfect. Although that talent is probably somewhat wasted if you’re going to be an accountant.’

‘How do you know about that?’ Shauna was puzzled.

‘I make it my business to know about everyone who comes on board my yacht. We don’t let just anyone work for us, you know.’

Shauna noted again his rich voice, his Greek accent tinged with something else, an American twang perhaps. She felt slightly disconcerted as he took a step closer.

‘I even know your name.’ He was inches away from her now and she could see his hazel eyes more closely; they almost seemed to be flecked with gold. She caught a waft of citrus and sandalwood. ‘Shauna O’Brien.’

Shauna thought her name had never sounded so glamorous or sensuous as when he said it, and wished she looked the way it sounded rather than standing there clumsily in her staff uniform of white vest and navy shorts. He reached towards her, and for a moment Shauna thought he was going to touch her face, but instead, he took the last clean towel from her and rubbed his hair with it. He sauntered over to the mirror, dropped the towel and pushed his hands through his hair, regarding himself in the large mirror. Shauna caught her own reflection standing behind him, she was horrified to see she appeared to be gawping.

‘How good are you with numbers, Shauna?’

‘Pretty good,’ she answered without hesitation. Her father had taught her there was no point in false modesty.

‘Good. You can help me sometime, Shauna O’Brien. It’s not all play for me, despite what you might think.’ When he said this, there was a seriousness to him that Shauna hadn’t noticed before. She wondered what sort of help it was he wanted. ‘I will call for you tomorrow.’

The following morning was a busy one, they would be leaving Monaco soon and Jeremy wanted the yacht shipshape for the onward leg, but he was pleased with the work the crew had done and gave them all the afternoon off.

‘So, have you any plans for the rest of the day?’ asked Chantelle, slipping onto the bench beside her as Shauna kicked off her deck shoes and sipped at a Pepsi.

Shauna shook her head. ‘I might just explore a bit more of the old town. I love the buildings up there.’ And she still hoped for a glimpse of the princess. Only yesterday, two of the other crew members had come back from an outing and said they’d seen the royal couple leaving the palace in a limousine. Princess Grace had waved from the window at the tourists gathered outside.

‘I’m going to nip down to the coast, visit some old friends who are staying at Port de Cap D’Ail. Make the most of my free time. Shame Demetrios is on board, otherwise I’d be spending this afternoon lapping up rays on the sun deck.’

‘Are we allowed to do that?’ Shauna’s eyes brightened at the prospect; that would be heavenly. Despite her typically Irish white skin and red hair, she could get a tan if she was careful.

‘Only when there’s no one on board. If you know he’s on shore and not likely to come back for a couple of hours, it’s fine.’ Chantelle laid her fork down and called across the table. ‘Jeremy, do you have any idea of Demetrios’s movements today and tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow he’s booked a driver to pick him up at ten and bring him back at three. I believe he has meetings at the casino and lunch with someone. In the evening, there’s another car booked to take him to …’ Jeremy paused, his eyes gleaming, ‘… the Grimaldi palace. Some party there.’

Shauna sat transfixed by the news. Demetrios was going to a party at the palace. Did he know the princess? Had he met her before? Was she as lovely as she looked?

‘He knows how to enjoy himself,’ said Eric, who was sitting further down the table, helping himself to more French bread. ‘When we were in Naples last year, we had a party on board and Dudley Moore and Liza Minelli came.’