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‘Should I?’ Another matchmaker, he’d thought, groaning inwardly.
But this matchmaker was different, he thought, remembering Thea’s dramatically mournful expression as she’d explained, ‘My mother’s young, and very beautiful, and she’s all alone.’
‘Tragic,’ he’d agreed, playing along. ‘But I’m sure that if she’s anything like you she won’t be alone for long.’
After which he’d thought he should extricate himself as diplomatically as possible. Thea might have the makings of a great matchmaker, but he wasn’t looking for a match.
* * *
Stavros had saved Lizzie. His cousin had a beach restaurant on the island owned by the Gavros family, and his cousin just happened to be desperate for more staff...according to Stavros.
Another coincidence? Or not?
Lizzie had known she couldn’t afford to be picky when Stavros had adopted a dreamy expression as he’d described the island of his birth, adding, ‘You haven’t heard from Damon, I suppose?’
‘No,’ Lizzie had admitted, thinking it better to break it to him that, sooner rather than later, that Cupid had failed. ‘And I don’t expect to.’
So here she was, standing outside Cousin Iannis’s restaurant, on what looked and sounded like a party night. She was feeling optimistic. How could she not, when Thea had called to say she had settled in and everything was going really well, and she’d made a lot of new friends on the island?
It was hard not to fall in love with the island, Lizzie thought as she stared up at the star-peppered sky. It was warm even this late at night, and the candles glowing inside the restaurant gave everything such a welcoming glow. Traditional music was playing, and the scent of delicious food made her hungry.
Iannis had picked her up at the airport, and now he ushered her inside and directed her towards the kitchen.
‘We’re in training for the big birthday party next week,’ he explained above the din of crashing plates and shouts of, ‘Oopa!’
Iannis was the double of his cousin Stavros, and Lizzie doubted either man needed an excuse to hold a party. They were both kindness personified. Stavros had insisted on paying for her flight, saying he owed her holiday money, and now there was this—the warmest of welcomes.
‘No work tonight!’ Iannis insisted as she glanced at the row of servers’ aprons hanging on pegs in the lobby outside the kitchen. ‘You’ve only just arrived, so tonight you’re my guest at the party. Your apartment is just up those stairs by the entrance door—’ he indicated where ‘—and your luggage is already on its way up to your room.’
‘You’re too kind.’
‘No. You’re too kind,’ Iannis argued. ‘Stavros has told me all about you—and he has insisted that I mustn’t work you too hard. No buts,’ he warned. ‘Your time here is to be a holiday. It’s all arranged.’
Flinging the door to the kitchen wide, he ushered Lizzie in to meet his staff.
She froze on the threshold. ‘Damon?’
What was he doing here?
Leaning back against the wall, looking as hot as sin, Damon raised a brow and smiled faintly as she walked in.
‘Are you stalking me?’ she challenged lightly.
‘Surely it’s the other way around?’ he countered in his low, husky drawl.
She was instantly tense, thinking of Thea just a few miles down the road.
‘Lizzie?’ Damon pressed.
He was instantly suspicious. ‘Damon,’ she replied coolly.
Lifting her chin, she met his stare steadily. Pulses of heat rushed through her. He was so unbelievably good-looking, and she needed thinking time. She should have known he would be on the island—after all, his family owned it—but somehow she’d just blanked the possibility from her mind.
‘Is something distracting you?’ he asked.
Oh, so much! ‘The sight of such delicious food,’ she lied.
He looked at her as if he didn’t believe a word of it. ‘It certainly is a distraction.’
‘I didn’t expect to see you,’ she admitted.
He raised a brow, and his eyes burned with amusement as his gaze roved openly over the outline of her body beneath her jeans and simple top. She would have said something, but with Iannis looking on with interest she knew that wouldn’t be wise. She hated to disappoint her matchmakers, and she wouldn’t be rude in front of them, but neither Iannis nor Stavros knew her history with Damon. And nor would they, if she had anything to do with it.
‘Damon has been working all day to make things special for my staff,’ Iannis explained. ‘We are catering the big birthday party next week.’
That was all she needed to know. Why else would Damon be here if it weren’t for the fact that it was his father’s birthday they were talking about?
‘He wanted my people to have a night off,’ Iannis was explaining proudly.
Lizzie quickly pulled herself together. ‘That’s very good of him,’ she agreed.
‘And as soon as you’ve settled in you must come down to the party,’ Iannis insisted. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Damon?’ he pressed.
‘Most definitely,’ Damon confirmed, with a look at Lizzie that sucked the breath clean out of her lungs.
‘Eat—drink—dance—make love!’ Iannis exclaimed helpfully, with a wide smile. ‘That’s all that’s allowed tonight.’
So long as they weren’t all compulsory, Lizzie thought, while Damon’s wicked smile reached his eyes and stayed there.
‘Oh, and there are some gifts waiting for you on the bed upstairs,’ Iannis added.
‘Gifts for me?’ Lizzie glanced at Damon.
‘They’re nothing to do with me,’ he said.
So gifts from whom? Lizzie wondered.
‘I’ll see you downstairs as soon as you’ve had chance to freshen up,’ Damon called after her as she left the kitchen.
She turned at the door. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be coming down again.’
‘Of course you will.’
He said this in a way that made her run up the stairs as if the hounds of hell were after her.
Closing the door on her apartment, she closed her eyes and sucked in a deep, steadying breath. Damon only had to look at her for lust to surge through her veins, and that was dangerous. She was a very different person now from the girl she’d been at eighteen. She had far more sense, Lizzie told herself firmly as she switched on the light and looked around.
The first thing she saw were the ‘gifts’ laid out on the bed. She knew immediately who they were from, and rushed across the room to pick the dresses up and hold them to her face. Then she reached for her phone.
‘Sundresses for the old lady!’ she said, laughing happily as Thea came on the line.
Thea giggled. ‘Do you like them?’
‘I love them—but you shouldn’t be spending your money on me.’
‘I bought them at the market on our first day here. As soon as I saw them I knew I had to buy them for you. I fell in love with the sunny yellow one right away, and the blue’s so pretty.’
‘I love them both,’ Lizzie admitted. She would never have wasted her scant funds on buying anything so frivolous for herself.
‘Do they fit?’ Thea demanded.
‘They’re perfect.’ Hugging the dresses close, she battled to contain her emotions.
‘Be sure to wear one of them for the concert.’
‘I will,’ Lizzie promised. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear you play.’
‘Playing the violin isn’t everything,’ Thea informed Lizzie, stalling her thoughts in a way that had never happened before.
‘What do you mean?’ Lizzie asked, wondering if she’d said or done something to discourage Thea.
‘Just that. Love’s far more important t
han anything else,’ Thea explained loftily. ‘Love is all I care about now. I’m in a romantic phase.’
‘I see...’ Lizzie said faintly.
