Watching him snap into work mode to answer yet another call, Chantal studied his profile as he talked. Why was she suddenly finding him intimidating?
Was it the fact that he was dressed more formally than he’d been at the villa?
Reminding herself that he was the same man she’d woken up next to that morning, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. But she couldn’t subdue the feeling of unease that dulled the edge of the happiness she’d discovered over the past two weeks.
Angelos finished his call and glanced at her. ‘As I have said I have to spend a few hours in the office this afternoon. But first I will take you shopping for something to wear this evening.’
Chantal thought about the small amount of money in her bag. ‘Just don’t take me anywhere ridiculously pricey.’
‘I will enjoy spoiling you.’
‘I don’t want your money.’
‘I’m not offering you money,’ he drawled, leaning across and releasing the catch on her seat belt. ‘I’m buying you a gift. Now stop talking about it. We’ve arrived.’
A plush, air-conditioned car whisked them from the airport into the centre of Athens and as they weaved through the heavy traffic. Chantal found herself intrigued by the busy, bustling city.
It was nice to see places in comfort and style, she conceded as she watched people wilting in the heat outside.
To her right she noticed a colourful market and craned her neck to get a closer look, wishing that they had time to stop and explore.
But Angelos clearly had something different in mind, and a few minutes later the driver turned into a wide road and stopped outside a glass-fronted designer boutique.
Angelos switched off his phone and urged her out onto the pavement.
The clothes in the window were frighteningly elegant and chic, but one dress in particular caught her eye. She studied
it for a moment, automatically noting the cut and style and deciding how she’d adapt it if she were making it.
Angelos urged her into the shop and immediately a gaggle of sales staff converged on them, drawn by his unmistakable air of authority. He had ‘billionaire’ written all over him, and she could see them glancing at her simple dress and wondering what a man like him was doing with a girl like her.
Having sex, she thought gloomily. That’s what he’s doing.
Ignoring them, he glanced impatiently at his watch and turned towards her. ‘Choose something.’
Just like that.
He was a man who didn’t know how it felt to be intimidated by one’s surroundings.
She glanced around at all the chrome and glass, wondering if she was supposed to wash her hands before she touched any of the clothes.
Ignoring the hovering sales assistants, because she knew that if she looked at them they’d destroy her fragile confidence, Chantal walked tentatively towards the dress that she’d seen in the window.
The design was ridiculously simple. It was the quality of the fabric that turned it into something special.
‘It would look wonderful on you. It’s cut to conceal that extra bit of weight,’ an assistant murmured, and Angelos frowned.
‘Then it won’t suit her,’ he said smoothly, ‘because she doesn’t have any extra weight.’
Ridiculously grateful that he’d countered the bitchy comment, Chantal stared at the dress. It was cut on the bias and she could see that it would hang well on a woman with curves.
‘How much is it?’
Her question was met by appalled silence, and the assistants glanced at each other and then at Angelos, who responded with a cool stare.
‘You’re running a business. Surely you know the answer to that question?’
After a brief hesitation, one of the assistants cleared her throat. ‘It’s—’ She breathed in, as though she’d never been asked that question before ‘—forty thousand euros.’