Nikos knew he'd sort something. For a start he was too curious about the female at his side not to want to find out more. Athens was a city that liked to gossip, and Nikos had made sure that it liked to gossip about him. Having a reputation as a connoisseur of fine women did him no harm at all in the business world. Men envied him—envied his success, his ability to have a beautiful woman on his arm, envied the fact that, unlike most of them, he did not need his money to keep them there—he could do it on his looks alone.
'Kyrios Vassilis,' smiled the greeter. 'How delightful to have you as our guest today. And your lovely companion, of course...'
His voice trailed away expectantly.
With an acknowledging half-smile, Nikos accommodated him.
"Thespiris Coustakis,' he obliged.
The man's face was a picture. Nikos almost laughed. Then, revealing nothing but the excited gleam in his eyes, the man immediately bowed to Andrea and murmured, in breathless .tones, how greatly honoured he was to have her grace his establishment.
'No fuss, if you please,' said Nikos, and began to head for the bar area. 'We'll have a drink until our table is ready.' He caught the man's eye and made his message clear. 'Something as private as you can manage.'
'Of course.' The man bowed again, eyes gleaming even more, and clicked his fingers imperiously for a pair of minions, who were there immediately and then despatched variously at his bidding. Then, bowing yet again
, he ostentatiously ushered Nikos and Andrea towards the bar.
'This way, if you please, Thespiris Coustakis,' he said, in a voice that was intentionally louder than before. Andrea could see a couple of men seated nearby, also waiting for their table, look up sharply, subjecting her to penetrating stares. Then one of them promptly got up and moved across to one of the tables in the dining area, bending low to speak into the man's ear. The man looked up abruptly and followed his line of gaze towards Nikos Vassilis and his companion.
As she took her seat—a huge, soft leather chair into which she sank almost completely—she said through clenched teeth, 'What the hell is this circus? Have I got two heads or something?'
Nikos gave a brief laugh, his teeth gleaming wolfishly.
'Oh, the show has begun, Andrea, agape mou. The show has most very definitely begun.'
It was not the most comfortable meal Andrea had eaten in her life, but it was certainly the most expensive. Not even dinner last night could match lunch today. For a start they were drinking vintage Krug champagne. Andrea did not even want to think what that must have cost. Then there were black truffles, caviar, exotic seafood she couldn't even identify served in a delicate sauce with exquisitely presented vegetables. As well as the champagne Nikos ordered wine as well, and by the reverence with which it was served—from displaying the label for his approval and the sommelier tasting some in his little silver cup, to Nikos's final approving nod as he sampled first the bouquet and then the wine itself—she could see it must be as expensive as the champagne, if not more so.
She wished desperately, as she ate her way through a lunch that it would have taken her six months to pay for herself, that she could enjoy it more. It seemed dreadful to have such expensive food in front of her and yet feel as if she had to force down every mouthful. Tension knotted in her stomach like rope.
It wasn't just that she could see she was being looked over by every person in the restaurant, from the humblest waiter to the richest patron, it was that she was lunching, in public, with Nikos Vassilis.
Who was making it very, very clear just who he was keeping company.
The Coustakis heiress.
It clearly, she thought, her lips tight, gave him one hell of a kick!
He said as much at one point. Leaning closer, as though to whisper some intimacy to her, he murmured, 'They are all agog, Andrea mou—your name has gone round like wildfire and they are desperate to know who you are! Strange as it seems, no one in Athens knew Yiorgos Coustakis had a granddaughter—you have been kept as a card up his sleeve! And now—' satisfaction—the satisfaction of a hunger sated, a long hunger born many years ago in the streets of the city—gleamed in his slate eyes '—they can see exactly how the old man has decided to play you! There isn't a man here who does not realise the significance of your being here with me!'
'Is it public knowledge yet that you will be taking over Coustakis Industries?' Andrea asked. She kept her voice cool and businesslike, though it was an effort to do so. Since he had kissed her with such confident possession, sealing their bargain, it had been an effort to do anything except drown her memory of the recalled sensation of his lips tasting her mouth...
He took a mouthful of wine, clearly savouring it, then set down the glass.
'There have been rumours—there are always rumours. After all, Yiorgos is getting older—something must happen to the company. Up till now no one realised he had any heir at all— let alone a hide-away heiress! But now—well, I think they will draw their own conclusions, do you not, agape mouT
'Don't use endearments to me!' she responded sharply. She didn't like the sound of the liquid syllables in his low, intimate voice.
He raised a mocking eyebrow. 'My dear Andrea, we are to be married. We must, as I have just told you, put on an appropriate show. And, speaking of marriage, what are your wedding plans? I tell you frankly I would hope above all that they are speedy. But other than that you can have free rein. I assume your mother will fly out for it?'
Andrea's face froze. 'No,' she said shortly.
Kim mustn't even know about the wedding. Andrea would have to get Tony to say she was just staying on here for a few weeks, that was all The last thing she wanted was Kim finding out just what she was planning to do!
'She dislikes your grandfather so much?' There was an edge in Nikos's voice as he remembered Yiorgos saying that Andrea's mother had had very different views on upbringing from him. Well, given Yiorgos's demonstration of grandfatherly chastisement last night, he could hardly be surprised.
'I don't want to talk about it,' said Andrea tightly.
Nikos's eyes narrowed, studying her closed face. There was something wrong here, he thought suddenly. Her eyes were a little too bright, her soft mouth almost trembling beneath the hardened line of her lips. The memory of her standing on the terrace, talking about her father and her mother's memory of him, came back to him. He cursed himself for an insensitive fool.