He turned to face her, those eyes that she’d fallen in love with haunting her now, because it was impossible not to see his father in their depths. They were identical—the same shape and colour, each set rimmed with thick, curling lashes. But this wasn’t about Santos Anastakos. That wasn’t why she’d accepted this job. It was all for Cameron.
‘It looks hot.’
‘You don’t like the heat?’
He lifted his shoulders and turned away from her, his fragility palpable despite his above-average height. ‘No. Not really.’
Amelia smiled but it was forced onto her face. She didn’t particularly like the heat either but they’d both have to tolerate it for this summer. The helicopter touched down on the roof of the house and a moment later a man appeared, followed by a woman. Both were dres
sed in immaculate steel-grey suits.
‘Miss Ashford,’ the man greeted her, shouting to be heard over the whir of the spinning helicopter blades. She dipped her head forward as the helicopter pilot had instructed her to do, clutching Cameron’s hand in her own, guiding him down the steps and away from the aircraft. The heat hit her like a wave in the face, sultry and thick, the air so warm it burst flame into her lungs.
‘Yes?’ she said when they were at a safe distance. Talia, the nanny, followed behind.
‘I’m Leo.’ He smiled, a kindly smile that matched his bearing. He wasn’t much taller than her, though there was a tautness to him, a strength she could feel emanating from his muscular frame. ‘I run security on the island and for Mr Anastakos generally. I’ll be coordinating things for Cameron.’
‘Things?’ Amelia prompted impatiently.
‘Security for any day trips, routines, that sort of thing.’ He spoke with a Greek accent, though it was different from Santos’s.
Amelia compressed her lips, ignoring the shift of disapproval. Given what Santos was worth, it wasn’t entirely unreasonable that there should be some kind of security measure for Cameron yet it was just another adjustment for the young boy to make.
‘I presume that here on the island he won’t need too much?’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘This place is a fortress.’
She arched a brow. ‘A fortress you can reach by air or sea?’ She gestured to the expansive ocean surrounding the island.
‘Under surveillance,’ he amended with a grin.
‘I’m Chloe.’ The woman behind him reached around to shake Amelia’s hand. ‘I run the house.’
Amelia nodded, wondering at the grandness of that—having a housekeeper and a security manager. It didn’t surprise her, and yet she couldn’t imagine living in such a fashion.
That feeling only increased as she was shown through the house. It was undeniably beautiful, and built right on the edge of the beach, so an infinity pool and terrace gave way to white sand and then pristine ocean. All of the rooms were on a large scale, with high ceilings, more impressive artwork adorning the crisp, white walls.
Cameron’s room—or suite of rooms—made her heart clutch. No expense had been spared, but it was more than that. Whoever had overseen the decorating had done so with care. The books were perfectly chosen for a child his age, the toys likewise. There wasn’t a cacophony of plastic. Instead, it was wooden blocks and construction toys, a selection of board games and paints. She inwardly approved of the selection, though she couldn’t help but feel the stark contrast with the way Cameron had been living previously. She knew from brief conversations with Cynthia that their home had been a small flat above the high street where the smell of the fish and chip shop below had infiltrated each of the rooms with its greasy pungency. There was only one bedroom—Cameron’s. Cynthia had slept on a fold-out sofa in the lounge.
It was hard not to judge Santos for that—for leaving the mother of his child to suffer in such abject poverty. Was it really possible he hadn’t known about Cameron?
Compressing her lips on that thought, and attempting to blot Santos from her mind, she completed the tour with Talia and Cameron. When Talia suggested taking Cameron to the kitchen for a snack, Amelia was secretly pleased. She felt overwhelmed with what she’d done; the enormity of stranding herself on this island with a man like Santos Anastakos had her wanting to beg the helicopter pilot to fly her right back to the mainland airport.
But she didn’t.
Cameron’s face swam before her eyes and all her doubts left her. She was right to be here. He needed this of her.
* * *
As it turned out, her anxiety was somewhat misplaced. After Cameron had a snack, she watched Talia and him swim, then joined them in a game of Snakes and Ladders before finishing a few chapters of a book in her room. She read Cameron his bedtime story and sat with him as he fell asleep—he hadn’t asked her to but she’d sensed his sadness, understood that essential loneliness and wanted to comfort him as best she could.
She ate alone—the housekeeper Chloe had prepared some chicken and salad. Afterwards, Amelia took a cup of tea onto the terrace along with her book and curled her knees beneath her chin as she watched the sun set, the sky filling with a sensational mix of colours—purple, gold, orange, the beginning of berry-black. Despite all that she knew about the formation of the universe, and the metaphysics behind the sunset, she could never fail to be awed by the repetitive cosmic phenomenon, and particularly not when it took place over a seemingly limitless ocean.
It was dark by the time she’d finished her tea. She stood and moved into the kitchen, washed the cup and placed it on the side of the sink before filling a water glass to take to her bedroom. Carrying it and her book—a heavy hardback—she walked from the kitchen, her eyes flicking towards the night sky beyond on autopilot. The stars shone so brightly here, it made Amelia long for her telescope.
She wasn’t looking where she was going, and apparently neither was he, because a second later Amelia connected not with a wall or a door but with a solid shape that knocked her backward. Her water spilled all over Santos’s chest, covering his shirt in a spreading pool of liquid.
‘Oh!’ Her eyes dropped to his chest and couldn’t look away. The water made every sculpted delineation visible. His torso was ridged with abdominal muscles, just like the statues of Greek gods she’d studied as a girl.