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But as he clicked on the link a completely different venue sprang up on his screen.
Bermuda.
An offshore banking haven, only a couple of hours’ flight off the US East Coast, and best of all a sub-tropical paradise. He’d been before on business, but always on his own. The beautiful island just cried out for spending more time there, R&R—and not on his own...
The thought was in his head before he could stop it. Instantly he sought to eject it, delete it, but it was no good. It was there, indelible, right at the front of his mind. He knew exactly who should be with him on such a break—exactly who it was he wanted there.
Instantly he summoned all the arguments against it—the arguments that had stopped him whispering the words he’d wanted to whisper to Mel—but they were being drowned out. Drowned out by a cacophony of counterarguments.
She longs to go abroad—anywhere in the world. Bermuda would be perfect for her. It’s not the kind of place she’d ever get to on her own—not the place for budget backpacking tourists—but with me it would be possible. I could show her a place she would otherwise never see.
It was a brilliant idea—just brilliant. And now it was in his head he could not obliterate it. It would not be silenced.
He stared out over his office, his thoughts churning. Overwhelming him with their power.
Why do I assume she would want more from me than a simple holiday romance? Why do I fear she would want something deeper, more lasting? Why not ask her and see? After all, she told me she wanted to see the world, travel everywhere—does that sound like a woman who wants to tie me down or get involved in a heavy relationship?
Even as he thought it alarm snatched at him. When had she said she was leaving London? Setting off on her travels? She might already be in Spain for all he knew.
The thought was like a blow. If she were gone, how would he ever find her?
She could disappear completely and I’d have no clue where she was!
Without realising it he’d reached for his phone. Urgency impelled him, overriding everything else. Only one thing filled his head—Mel, as she’d been that evening, so fantastically beautiful, so soft and ardent in his arms, the sweetness of her mouth, the honey of her lips.
I won’t let her disappear from my life. Not without seeing whether I can’t persuade her to come with me!
His secretary answered the phone instantly. Mood soaring, he gave her his instructions.
‘Cancel Geneva and Frankfurt. Book me to London tomorrow instead.’
* * *
‘Sarrie, here are the accounts for while you were away. I think they’re looking quite good. I made a few tweaks to the menu, and tried out a few new things. I think they’ve worked.’
She’d added more boxed salads for diet-conscious customers, and sourced a scrumptious organic carrot cake for when they fell off their diets, keeping careful tabs on costs, sales and profits.
A sudden shaft of memory assailed her—of how she’d spun that impressive-sounding line about FMCG customer-facing research at that charity do, surrounded by all those high-flying career women. She hadn’t meant it seriously...it had just been to amuse Nikos...
No. No thinking about Nikos.
No remembering that evening. And no remembering that devastating goodnight kiss.
This time tomorrow I’ll be in Spain, and if I want romance I’ll set my cap at some sultry Spaniard. That will take my mind off Nikos Parakis.
It had better.
Because so far nothing was taking her mind off him and everything was reminding her of him—even packing for Spain. When she’d refolded the evening gown she’d worn for him memories had rushed back into her head—memories of how he’d gazed at her when she’d glided up to him in the hotel, how he’d smiled at her, how at the end of that wonderful, fabulous evening he’d taken her into his arms to kiss her...
Stop it. Just...stop it. It’s over, he’s gone, and he’s not coming back into your life.
That was what she had to remember. That was what she had to think about.
Not about the way he kissed me...turning me inside out and back again...
Most of all not wishing there had been more than just a single kiss...
If he’d kissed me again—swept me off my feet—if I’d gone with him—
No, she must not think of that—definitely, definitely not that!
And anyway—she dropped a clanging reality check down through her hectic thoughts—he hadn’t kissed her again, had he? And there’d been no sweeping her off her feet, had there? No, he’d just kissed her goodnight and gone. The evening had ended and her brief, fleeting acquaintance with Nikos Parakis had ended, too.
Time for her to move on. To put Nikos Parakis out of her head for once and for all.
