‘No.’ His tone was impatient as he searched for an answer to his question. ‘I mean why are you cooking for me when I employ Maria for that task? You should have been relaxing.’
‘Maria is very busy shopping and preparing your father’s special diet, and she has the whole of the villa to look after. If I can cook, then I can help her.’
‘You don’t need to help her.’ His words drew her gaze, and suddenly there was a stubborn tilt to her chin that he hadn’t seen before.
‘You won’t let me earn money, so this will be my contribution.’
‘I don’t want your contribution.’ He saw the hurt in her eyes and cursed himself for being tactless. ‘I don’t mean that I don’t want the food. I just mean that you don’t need to cook.’
‘Yes, I do.’ She reached forward and served herself a generous helping. ‘You’re very old-fashioned—do you know that?’
Angelos drew a deep breath. ‘I am certainly not old-fashioned.’
‘You are. You don’t want a woman to work. You’re not comfortable with the whole concept of equality.’ She dissected the food on her plate with a fork, examining each layer with the delight of a child opening a present. ‘You think a woman should spend her life on a sun lounger, ready for you whenever you want to take a break from your pressing work schedule.’
‘That is not true.’
‘Then why did you make me give up my job?’
Costas looked interested. ‘Job? What job?’
‘I found myself a job in a taverna.’ Chantal smiled at his father. ‘But Angelos didn’t want me working there.’
Costas chuckled. ‘I’m starting to understand why he has been so bad-tempered during the day.’
‘I have not been bad-tempered.’ Angelos lifted his wine. ‘And it is ridiculous to suggest that I don’t want women to work. A large proportion of my senior executives are women.’
‘But I’m ready to bet that they’re not women you have relationships with,’ Chantal said mildly. ‘I’m sure you neatly separate your work and social life. Which makes you hypocritical as well as old-fashioned. You’re happy for a woman to work, just not your woman. From that I assume you usually date heiresses.’
It occurred to him that he’d never felt so out of control of a conversation. ‘Why would you assume that?’
‘Because you don’t want women to take your money, but you don’t want them to make their own money, either. That rules out a large chunk of the population and really only leaves heiresses.’
Aware that his father was following the exchange with delight, Angelos gritted his teeth. ‘This conversation is pointless.’
‘You’re just saying that because you’re losing the argument.’ She looked at his plate. ‘Aren’t you at least going to try the moussaka? I think it’s very good. I’m proud of it.’
‘Most women would be delighted that a man is prepared to support them,’ Angelos growled as he picked up his fork. ‘Just because I don’t happen to think a woman should pay when she’s in a relationship with me, it doesn’t make me old-fashioned or hypocritical.’
‘But you’re very wary that a woman might only be interested in your money. Which makes it all rather contradictory, doesn’t it? It makes the whole thing very confusing for you, and even more confusing for me.’
Costas started to laugh, and once he started he couldn’t stop, the spasms shaking his body. ‘That has to be the first time a woman has ever beaten you in an argument. Come to think of it, she’s probably the first woman you’ve ever spent time with who can string a sentence together. She’s perfect, Angelos.’ He reached for a napkin and mopped his eyes, trying to get himself under control. ‘An original, just like your mother. That woman always tied me in knots. Manipulated me into saying all sorts of things I didn’t mean.’
‘Was she an heiress?’ Chantal asked the question with interest, and Angelos watched as his father’s gaze misted again.
‘She was just a girl,’ Costas said gruffly. ‘A girl that I loved. And I would have loved her the same way whether she’d been rich or poor. And she could cook. That is where I went wrong with the other two. They couldn’t cook.’
‘Why would they need to? They didn’t eat,’ Angelos pointed out dryly, and his father shuddered.
‘Do not remind me.’ He looked longingly across the table. ‘Perhaps I should try the moussaka?’
‘The doctor wanted you to eat the fish,’ Chantal said firmly, ‘and it’s delicious. Maria and I baked it in lemon and Greek herbs. Try it. I want to know if you like it. If not, I’ll strike it off our list. We’re trying something different every day.’ She watched expectantly, a sparkle in her eyes, and Costas obediently picked up his fork and ate.
‘So you went and found yourself a job?’
‘That’s right.’ She heaped his plate with salad. ‘Obviously there’s limited opportunity for employment around here, but I needed the money.’
Costas sampled the fish. ‘It’s delicious.’