But before she could leave, eyeing up her escape route by skirting around the edge of the crowd, an incredulous voice called her name.
‘Maggie?’
Dread pooled in her belly—along with a very belated spark of emotion. Anger. She turned around and came face to face with the man she’d tried her best to forget—because he sure as hell hadn’t been interested in remembering her.
She should have known what to expect. She of all people. But she forced a smile. ‘Mr Marchetti. Fancy seeing you here.’
She barely noticed that he looked as shocked as she felt.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I work here.’
‘You two know each other?’ Nessa sounded intrigued. ‘I thought you said he’d never been to Kildare House?’
Maggie winced inwardly. She hadn’t actually said that, but she’d been deliberately vague about Nikos’s visit last year.
Nikos said, ‘I visited the house last year...briefly.’
Yet he’d left a lasting impression—very lasting.
Maggie went cold again as the full significance of Nikos’s presence sank in.
Nessa was saying, ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell us, Nikos...’
Maggie backed away, needing to escape. ‘If you’ll excuse me...?’
She turned and almost ran towards the house, not even caring what Nessa must be thinking. Because that wasn’t important. What was important—
Maggie’s hand was caught by another, much bigger hand. ‘Hey, wait a second.’
She stopped, felt her heart palpitating. For a big man he moved quickly and quietly.
She pulled her hand free and looked up. She’d forgotten how tall Nikos was. Tall enough to tower over her own not inconsiderable height.
They were near the kitchen entrance of the house and it was dark in this part of the garden. The staff were using another entrance to ferry drinks and canapés from house to garden. Maggie cursed herself for leading him here. It was too quiet...intimate.
Nikos was shaking his head. ‘I can’t believe you’re here.’
Maggie’s insides were somersaulting all over the place. Had he always been so broad? Why was she still so aware of him? She needed to remember—not let him distract her.
‘Well, I am here. Was there something you wanted, Mr Marchetti?’
Electricity crackled between them. The air seemed to grow even heavier, as if there was no oxygen.
His mouth tightened. ‘Mr Marchetti? Really? After—’
‘Look,’ Maggie cut in, desperate not to have him say it out loud. ‘I’m working. I really should get back and—’
‘Do you really think they’ll miss one waitress for a few minutes? Why did you hand in your notice? Was it because of what happened?’
Maggie swallowed. After two weeks of mooning around the house like a lovestruck calf, in spite of her best intentions, she’d realised that Nikos Marchetti had really meant what he’d said. Contact my team.
She’d had a sudden vision of him arriving back at the house at some point in the future with a woman and she’d felt sick. So she’d handed in her notice that day.
She tipped up her chin. ‘I was never meant to be your housekeeper. I just took over after my mother died—it was never going to be a long-term thing. It’s not as if I had ambitions to be a rich man’s housekeeper.’
Nikos’s eyes flashed at that. Maggie could see the glint of green and gold in the dim light and it sent fires racing all over her skin.