What the Greek Can't Resist

‘The pre-opening event is so your A-list clients can experience the resort and spread the word to their other A-list friends by the time the resort opens properly, correct?’

He nodded. ‘So it needs to be extra-special. Your input here in Washington has been invaluable and you can choose to stay here if you wish, but I think this is more along the lines of what you used to do in your previous position, only on a much larger scale?’

‘Yes, but I’ve never worked in such an exotic location before.’

‘This will be your chance to prove yourself then. I want to see how you fare spearheading a larger project.’ He sipped his wine—absently acknowledging he would have to abandon his beloved sports car in favour of another means of transport to return to the hotel—and watched her digest the information.

Slowly her stunning green eyes widened. ‘Spearheading? Are you serious?’

‘You can handpick your own team, hire and fire as you see fit. You’ll be provided with the initial list of attending guests but you can extend the list if you think you can handle it.’

‘You are serious!’ Shocked happiness erased the last evidence of her bleak foray into the past and, watching her, enchantment eased through him.

Examining himself closer, he realised he felt lighter than he had in a long while. He refused to believe unburdening his past to Perla had succeeded in lightening the heavy load of bitterness and pain, but he had no other explanation for it.

When he found himself smiling in reaction to her still stunned expression, something tugged hard in his chest. ‘Serious enough to promise a quick firing and slow roasting if you mess up my opening.’

She popped another piece of bread into her mouth. ‘Which is really no better than a slow firing and a quick roasting since both sound horrific.’

He laughed and saw her gaze linger on his face and her eyes darken a fraction.

No, he wasn’t going there. They were not going there.

He beckoned the hovering waiter and paused as Perla examined the menu. Slowly she pulled her lower lip into her mouth and pondered some more.

‘Can I help?’ he offered after several minutes.

She looked up in relief. ‘Would you? I never know what to order when I go to a restaurant and I always end up hating what I choose and coveting what’s on other people’s plates.’

‘I’ll order a variety of dishes and you can decide which ones you like and which ones you don’t.’

She smiled. ‘That works for me. Efharisto.’

He froze, the sound of his mother tongue so erotically charged coming from her that he forgot to breathe. ‘You’re learning Greek?’

‘I work for a Greek company. It seems wise to learn a few essential words like thank you and where the hell is the coffee? I find some of the pronunciations quite hard, though.’

‘Let me know what you have difficulty with and I’ll teach you.’ Again the words slipped out before he could stop them.

What in heaven’s name was wrong with him?

Mentally shaking his head, he recited the dishes he wanted prepared to the waiter and added a command for haste.

They discussed the Bermuda resort and her initial ideas. The passion she exhibited for business made him glad he’d offered her the chance. So much so, he slightly regretted it when their meal arrived and intruded on the atmosphere. Small platters of roasted vegetables, tenderly prepared meats served on a bed of traditional salad, hummus and oven-baked breads.

He watched her dig into the food with the same gusto she’d eaten that night at his apartment in London. Then, as now, he’d found her appetite refreshing.

Recalling her comment earlier about putting on weight, Ari’s gaze slid to her breasts. They looked slightly heavier, plumper than they had in London, and her cleavage seemed deeper.

Warmth rushed into his mouth that had nothing to do with the sumptuous textures of the food and everything to do with recalling the exquisite taste of her hard nipples on his tongue. He forced his gaze away. Only to snap it back to her when she made a sound of distress.

Her eyes had widened and she was reaching for her water. ‘Um...Ari...I don’t feel so good.’

Ari frowned and he jerked to his feet. ‘What’s wrong? What is it?’

She dropped her glass and water splashed across the table. In one move, he was by her side, pushing her chair back so he could take her face in his hands.

‘Perla?’

She jumped up and looked around wildly, drawing the attention of other diners. She must have spotted the signs for the lavatory because she grabbed her bag and lurched forward.