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‘Guys,’ Damon called to them. ‘I’d like you to meet Eleni.’
Not Princess. Not my wife. Just Eleni. That different kind of warmth flowed through her veins again.
The men turned and shouts erupted. But not for her. It was pleasure that their boss had returned. One of the guys stepped to the side of the swarm around Damon to greet her.
‘Nice to meet you, Eleni.’ Olly’s accent placed him as Australian.
The other men nodded, smiled and positively pounced on Damon again.
‘Look, D—I know you’re not here for work, but can I just run a couple things past you?’ Faisal asked.
Damon was already halfway across the room, his gaze narrowing at the gobbledegook on the screen. ‘Of course.’
All the men perked up but Eleni saw Olly and Jerome exchange a look and a jerk of the head towards her. The next second Jerome walked over.
‘Eleni...’ Jerome cleared his throat. ‘Welcome. You must...ah...’
‘I’m really happy to be here.’ She smiled to put him at ease. Eleni could make conversation with anyone. ‘What is it you guys are working on?’
He led her to the nearest table that was covered in an assortment of electronics components and plastic figurines. ‘We’re designing a new visuals prototype and we need his thoughts on the latest version.’
‘Visuals prototype?’
To his credit, Jerome spent a good five minutes explaining the tech to her and answering her questions. But it was obvious he was eager to talk to Damon too and in the end she put him out of his misery. ‘Go ask him whatever it is you need to. I’m fine,’ she laughed.
‘Are you sure?’ Jerome looked anxiously between her and Damon.
‘Of course.’
He hurried away to join the conference around the screen. Damon stood in the centre, listening intently then quietly offering his opinion. The Australian was making notes on a piece of paper while Harry asked another question prompting another concise answer. It was evident they valued his every word and had missed his input. Everyone in the vicinity was paying total attention—to him. Eleni gradually became aware she was staring at him too. And for once no one was staring at her.
Blushing, she turned away and stepped outside to take in some fresh air. Her muscles ached slightly and a gentle feeling of fatigue made her sleepy. She leaned against the tall tree just outside the building and looked across at the beautifully clear water.
Ten minutes later Damon walked back to where she waited in the shade.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered as he reached to take her hand. ‘That took longer than I realised.’
‘It’s fine. I enjoyed looking around.’
Damon sent her a speculative look that turned increasingly wicked the longer he studied her. ‘What have you been thinking about?’ he asked. ‘You’ve gone very pink.’
The heat in her cheeks burned. ‘Don’t tease.’
‘Oh, I’ll tease.’ He tugged on her hand and pulled her closer to him. ‘But first let me show you the rest.’
‘I think rest is a good idea.’ She wanted to be alone with his undivided attention on her again. And right now she didn’t care if that made her spoiled.
‘There’s a restaurant room,’ he said.
Of course there was. Right on the beach, with a bar and a woman who waved and smiled at Damon the second she saw him. Eleni’s spine prickled.
‘Rosa will cook anything you want, as long as you want fresh and delicious.’ Damon waved at the relaxed, gorgeously tanned woman and kept walking past.
‘This place is just beautiful.’ Eleni glanced back at the restaurant.
‘Rosa is married to Olly, the guy with—’
‘The beard.’ Eleni sighed, stupidly relieved. ‘The Australian.’
Damon grinned as if he’d sensed her irrational jealous flare. ‘They live here most of the year round.’
‘Lucky them.’ She walked across the sand with him. ‘Do you live here most of the year too?’
‘Meetings take me away, but I’m here when I can be.’
Eleni could understand why; if it were her choice she’d never leave. But his marriage to her was going to make that problematic for a while. She had duties in Palisades that she had to perform.
‘Where next?’ she asked. ‘Your house?’
‘Not yet. You haven’t seen the playroom.’
‘Playroom?’ she asked, startled.
He laughed and gave her a playful swipe. ‘Not that kind of playroom.’ He cocked his head. ‘But now I know you’re curious...’
‘Shut it and show me the room.’ She marched across the sand, cheeks burning.
It was a boat shed and it was filled with every water-sport toy imaginable—from surfboards, to kayaks to inflatables and jet skis. ‘Okay, this is seriously cool.’ She stepped forward to get a closer look.
‘I knew you liked the water,’ Damon said smugly. ‘You swim, right?’
‘Indoors at the palace,’ she answered, checking out the kayaks stacked in racks up the wall. ‘Giorgos had a resistance current feature installed so I can train each morning in privacy.’
‘You don’t swim in the sea?’
‘With everyone watching?’ She stared at him as if he were crazy. ‘Rating my swimsuits every morning?’ She shook her head. ‘And he’d never let me on a jet ski.’
‘No?’ Damon’s eyes widened.
‘Safety issues.’ She shrugged and straightened. ‘And again, too many photographers.’
‘You like to avoid those.’
‘Do you blame me?’
‘No.’ He leaned against the door frame and sent her a smouldering look. ‘I’m really good on a jet ski,’ he said arrogantly. ‘You can come with me.’
She crossed her arms and sent what she hoped was a smouldering look right back at him. ‘Can I drive?’
‘Sure. I have no problem with that.’
‘But what if I want to go fast?’ She blinked at him innocently.
‘I think I can keep up.’ He lifted away from the door frame and strolled towards her.
‘You think?’ Her voice rose as he stepped close enough to pull her against him.
‘I think it’s time you saw my house,’ he growled.
‘It’s beyond time,’ she whispered.
He guided her across the sand and up a beautifully maintained path through the well-established trees to the gorgeous building at the end.
An infinity pool—the perfect length for laps—was the feature at the front. Comfortable, beautiful furniture was strategically placed to create space for relaxation, conversation and privacy. The house itself was wooden, with two storeys, and not monstrously huge but nor was it small. Damon didn’t speak as he led her inside—he simply let her look around. It was luxurious, yes, but also cosy with a sense of true intimacy. She didn’t know wh
y that surprised her, but it did.
He still said nothing, but smiled as if he sensed her appreciation. She took his outstretched hand and he led her up the curling wooden staircase. She assumed it led to his bedroom. Her heart hammered. A delicious languorous anticipation seeped into her bones.
But while there were doors to other rooms on one side, the room he drew her to wasn’t for sleeping. It stretched the length of the building. Unsurprisingly it was dominated by symmetrical windows overlooking the sand, sea and sky. A long table took up half the space. It was clearly his desk, given the neatly stacked piles of papers and the writing utensils gathered in a chipped mug. A long seat took up much of the remaining window space. A single armchair stood in front of the large fireplace that broke up the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that covered the wall opposite the windows. Books were stacked on every shelf. Books that had clearly been read and weren’t just there for the look of it. This was more than his workspace. It was his think space—his escape.
‘I can see why you love it.’ She stood in the middle of the room and gazed from the intriguing space inside to the natural beauty outside.
‘Best view on the island.’
‘The beauty is more than the view.’ She noted the shades for the windows, the pale warmth of the walls, the art that he’d chosen to complement the space. ‘The light is lovely,’ she said softly. ‘The colour. It must help you focus.’
‘It’s not a palace,’ he said with a keen look.
‘It’s better than any palace.’
A small smile flitted about his mouth. ‘So you like it?’
Intrigued that her opinion genuinely seemed to matter, she turned her back on the view to face him directly. ‘Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?’ She wasn’t that spoilt, was she?
‘There’s not a lot of gold leaf and crystal chandeliers.’
‘Did you think I wasn’t going to like it because there’s no ballroom?’ She felt slightly hurt. ‘You don’t need a ballroom—you have a beach.’ She looked out across the water again. ‘You’re lucky to have a home, not a museum in which you live.’
