‘I’m three moves away from check mate. He doesn’t realise it.’
‘You don’t have a board.’
‘It’s in here.’ She tapped her head.
He laughed. ‘Of course it is.’
‘Did you need something?’
Another burst of flame exploded inside him. It was the middle of the work day; it was unusual for him to be here, in her office. But the sense that he was unwelcome sat ill around his shoulders.
‘You’re busy?’
‘I’m—no. Not really. Just familiarising myself with the class list for this year, starting to plan some lessons.’
This year. Term began soon; she’d be leaving. And, while it was strange to imagine what life on the island would be like without Amelia, he was also glad that their time together was almost drawing to a close. He wasn’t foolish enough to pretend their forced proximity hadn’t threatened to complicate his usually straightforward approach to relationships.
When Amelia left, he and Cameron would move to Athens and he’d return to a normal sort of life. He’d meet other women, and before long he’d forget about Amelia.
No. He’d never forget about her, and he didn’t actually want to, anyway. But, once she left, his life would return to normal; he wouldn’t crave her like this. It was simply a question of proximity and habit.
‘I’m going to stretch my legs on the beach. Want to join me?’
She blinked, the offer apparently not what she’d expected. ‘Where’s Cameron?’
‘He’s napping.’
Amelia’s brows shot upwards. ‘Napping? Is he ill?’
‘He’s exhausted,’ Santos admitted sheepishly. ‘I took him to the fishing village this morning. We hiked, swam, ate. I gather I wore him out.’
Her heart felt as though it were being gently warmed. Santos spending time with Cameron made her feel an intense wave of relief. When she’d first arrived she’d had no idea how Santos would ever fill the father role in Cameron’s life but the pieces were falling into place. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask about that—how come there’s a village on an otherwise private island?’
‘Come for a walk with me and I’ll answer.’
She tilted her head a little. ‘Bribery?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Fine.’ She dropped her pen and stood. The sight of her in a pair of linen shorts and a simple T-shirt made him want to forget hi
s suggestion of the beach and instead drag her to his bedroom. He swallowed hard and spun away before he could do just that.
The sand was warm beneath their feet. He took her hand on autopilot as they approached the shoreline, and felt her eyes jerk to his in response, but she looked away again almost immediately.
‘So the fishing village?’
‘Right. That was my grandfather.’
‘He built it?’
‘No.’ Affection ran through him. ‘My grandfather was a great man, Amelia. I wish...’
I wish you could have known him.
He cut himself off from saying the overly sentimental line, wondering where the hell the words had even come from. ‘I wish he was still here, but he died when I was in my teens.’ He kicked at the water; it splashed ahead of them. ‘He was close friends with Daniel Konopolous, who was apparently renowned for his skill as a fisherman. In stormy weather and at any time of the day he could return with full nets. He lived on this island, but the village was losing its numbers, with people moving to the mainland. My grandfather bought the island, including the village, and allowed the fisherman to live and fish rent-free. There’s been a fishing community here for a very long time; he didn’t want to see that heritage lost.’
‘And you still support the village?’