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He laughed again, and Mikey felt cross. Cross with herself for rising to his bait.
“I thought you wanted me to spend time with the boy.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Andrew, is his name.” She flickered a gaze guiltily to the young boy she had come to adore. “And I do.” She was wrong to be keeping Loucas at arms’ length just because he drove her crazy. “Fine. Come on.”
Andrew’s eyes were wary as they approached. The young boy watched as Loucas crouched down on his haunches, an easy smile on his face. “Hello, Andrew.” It pained him to address the child in English rather than his native Greek, but the boy had lived in America all his life. He very much doubted if Helena had exposed him to his Mediterranean heritage at all
Andrew’s eyes were wary, and instinctively, he clung to Mikey’s leg. His small face nuzzled into the hem of her skirt. The look she gave Loucas was filled with reproach. “Andrew, you remember your uncle Loucas,” she prompted, aware that they’d met once before, when Andrew had first been spirited away to Greece. It had been in the dizzying first few days after the accident, and no doubt his tiny brain had been too shell-shocked to remember the details.
The small boy shook his head. Mikey couldn’t be sure if it was a spasmodic reaction, or a non-verbal response to her question, but either way, it felt like a victory of sorts. She lifted him up and held him on her hip, so that he was more easily able to see Loucas’s face. “Look, his eyes are just like yours, aren’t they?”
Andrew did look. Intently, he stared into Loucas’s face, scanning his eyes, and a flicker of emotion crossed his face.
Heartened, Mikey continued. “And look, his skin is just like yours.” She was so intent on getting through to Andrew that, without thinking, she reached out and touched Loucas’s arm, lifting it for Andrew to inspect. She ran her finger down the muscular forearm, admiring the even tan, and comparing it to Andrew’s almost identical shade of skin. Then, as if realizing with a bolt just what she was doing, she dropped Loucas’s arm, and lifted her eyes to his amused face. Her cheeks burned with shame as she forced an over-bright smile to her face. “Now, dear one. We have pushed your bedtime out as late as we can. Nanny Paxton will be cross with me if I don’t take you inside this minute.”
The little boy’s face fell, earning an unknowing smile from Loucas. “You remind me of myself as a child,” he said quietly. “I never wanted to go indoors, either. All this beach and wild, rugged land to explore, and my mother wanted me learning lessons, and clean for tea.” He grimaced, and winked conspiratorially. “Far more fun to scamper down the hills and go fishing from the shore, in my opinion.”
Andr
ew nuzzled into Mikey, but his face was bright, his eyes almost smiling. Mikey rewarded him with a big bright smile of her own. She wasn’t aware of the way Loucas was watching her. The way he watched her face transform as she showered Andrew with affection using expression alone.
Envy! He actually experienced a shard of jealousy towards the four year old. It was ridiculous. An emotion thoroughly unworthy of him, and he pushed it aside. What was it about this woman that seemed to infuriate and fascinate him in equal measure? She had verbally abused him in the most unimpressive way, and yet he remained singularly impressed; and drawn to her.
“Come on, little Master Washington. I’m sure Nanny Paxton will be watching the clock waiting for you to reappear, blaming me for your lateness.”
He waited until the small boy had been dispatched to the somewhat officious Nanny Paxton and then cornered Mikey. She was humming along to a Beatles song, doing something with a mixing bowl in the kitchen. He watched, fascinated, as she wiggled her hips, so that the summery dress she wore flicked and lifted a little, exposing another hint of her short, but perfectly curved, legs.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, startled when she turned around to remove cheese from the fridge, to find him leaning against the kitchen wall. His dark eyes had the ability to send shivers tingling along her spine. Despite the frantic palpitating of her heart, she feigned an air of disinterest. “You’re still here?”
He nodded. “As you see.”
She swallowed down the lump of awareness that had suddenly made breathing difficult.
“You know,” he said with a small flicker of a frown, “you’re rather beautiful when you’re nervous.”
Mikey rolled her eyes, but her mouth was dry. “Whatever.”
It was such an American expression that he couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, so you’re not one for flattery.”
“No.” She didn’t meet his eye. “And I’m not nervous.”
“No?”
“No,” she spoke more firmly than intended. “I just thought you’d be on your way back to Athens by now.”
He should have been. His helicopter was waiting on the other side of the island, his pilot no doubt cooling his heels, literally, in the calm shallow seas of the island. Why was he still here? He hadn’t been to Nisi Ourano since the boy had first arrived, and before that, it had been several months. Over time, the pull of the place had lessened for the man who’d grown up in the sand dunes and rugged cliffs of the small island off the coast of the Greek mainland. Athens, with its bright lights and frenetic pace, and never ending activity, was more his speed now.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” A smooth, American accent rolled into the kitchen. Different to Mikey’s soft, lilting Californian, this was a voice of the deep south. Cluttered with deep vowels and heavy consonants.
“Bobby.” Mikey’s smile was spontaneous and relaxed as she looked beyond Loucas. Curious, he half-turned to see who had interrupted them. ‘Bobby’ looked as his voice sounded. As though he’d rolled off the back of a horse, he was pure cowboy, right down to the torn jeans and dark blue singlet top he wore. Loucas’s eyes narrowed as he took in the way Bobby practically leered at Mikey. There was a definite familiarity there. A depth of feeling that he didn’t approve of. He told himself it was because they were both in his employ. His corporation was staffed by tens of thousands of individuals, and romantic liaisons were heavily discouraged. Productivity was never strong when interpersonal relationships were allowed to flourish in the work place.
“Have you met Mr. Aleksandros?” Mikey asked, nodding towards the still-reclining Loucas.
“No, ma’am. I haven’t had the pleasure. How d’you do?”
Loucas shook the hand that had been extended towards him, but his eyes remained trained on Mikey. “Fine.”
“I’m Robert Carlisle.” He didn’t see any recognition in the Greek’s face, so he expanded. “Andrew’s tutor?”
