Sofia nodded. ‘Yeah, of course. I can take care of myself, you know.’ But Kate could see her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide.
‘And you...’ Kate rounded on the man, who was picking bits of leaf off his suit. ‘You should know better. You keep your dirty hands off my...my...’ Stepdaughter? Friend? Kate was at a loss to know how to describe her. The truth was far too complicated. ‘Off Sofia.’
‘Chill, lady...’ The guy moved closer. ‘There’s no need to get so worked up. To be honest, you’re far more my type anyway.’
‘Get lost.’
Kate went to brush past him, but he took a step to the side, blocking her path.
‘Aw, don’t be like that...’
‘Get out of my way.’
‘Make me.’
She didn’t need telling twice.
Putting her palms flat against his chest, Kate pushed hard—but the guy grabbed hold of her wrists. Sofia leapt to her rescue, rushing at him from the side and sending a swift, hard kick to his shins. The man swore violently as his legs buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground, taking Kate with him.
They ended up in a jumble of limbs, the man flat on his back with Kate sprawled on top of him. As a small crowd formed around them, jeering and laughing, Kate hurriedly got to her feet. With as much dignity as she could muster, she pushed her way through. Reaching for Sofia’s hand, she marched the two of them out of the beer garden, through the pub and onto the pavement outside.
As they stood waiting for a black cab, Kate’s breath still rasping in her chest, she turned to address the birthday girl. ‘Sofia, I think it’s probably best if we don’t mention what just happened there to Nikos.’
Sofia laughed, removing a bit of greenery from Kate’s hair and letting it drop to the ground. ‘You’re not kidding! He would go ballistic!’
‘So it’s our secret, then, yes?’ Sofia’s colourful assessment of Nikos’s likely reaction did nothing to make Kate feel better.
‘Definitely our secret.’ Sofia linked her arm through hers, her eyes shining. ‘And thanks, Kate.’ She gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘This has been the best birthday ever!’
CHAPTER TEN
NIKOS STOOD WITH his hands on his hips, staring at the panoramic view of London. From up here, in this office on the seventy-second floor of the Shard, it was certainly an impressive vista, with the famous London landmarks all there, and the snaking brown water of the River Thames far below.
Impatient, he checked his watch again. He was early, but he wanted to get this meeting over with.
Returning to his seat, he took another sip of his coffee, putting down the cup with his lip curled in distaste. Suddenly he wanted to be back in Crete, in his own immaculate white villa, enjoying a cup of proper Greek coffee, with nothing to worry about except where he was going to take his boat out that day and how many fish he might catch.
Who was he kidding? When was the last time he’d been fishing? He couldn’t even remember. That life was long gone, together with the happy-go-lucky guy Nikos had once been.
Breaking up with Kate had been the catalyst—completely changing the course of his life. Before then he had skimmed through life like a pebble across the water, never bothering to ask himself if he was happy. Never going that deep. Because he hadn’t been sure he’d like what he found.
He’d had his wits, his looks and his charm—and he had believed that had been more than enough to ease his passage through life and provide him with an endless supply of beautiful women to grace his arm and his bed. He had done his stint in the army, proud to serve his country, and he had travelled the world with little more than a battered rucksack and a handful of the local currency. Money, he had convinced himself, was of little importance.
Returning to Agia Loukia on the orders of his father had not been part of his plan—not that he’d ever had much of a plan—but in some ways it had been good to be home. He’d almost forgotten the perfect blue of the Cretan sky, the beauty of the sunset over the water. His father had been as difficult as ever, but Nikos had learnt how to handle him—and anyway, it was only to be a temporary arrangement.