LITMIR.BIZ

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interested in a romantic relationship with you,’ Angelos informed her shortly. ‘I have my daughter to consider—’

      ‘I don’t think Sofia would mind—’

      ‘And my business,’ he cut across her. ‘In any case, you are American, and will be leaving here in a few short weeks. This whole conversation is the height of absurdity.’ He swung away from her, discomfited by how tempted he was to take her up on her blatant offer. He desired her, God knew; in the last seven years his libido had been like a dormant volcano that was now bubbling hotly to life. He wanted her very badly indeed.

      And even more alarmingly, he liked her. He liked her sense of humour and her gentleness with Sofia, her understanding and her courage and her kindness.

      He liked her so much that he couldn’t stand the thought of her knowing how he’d disappointed the people he loved in the worst way possible. He couldn’t stand the thought of her walking away from him.

      ‘You are here,’ he told her in a cold voice, his back still to her, ‘as Sofia’s nanny. That is all. Any...illusion of intimacy that occurred between us is simply that. An illusion. And you would do best to forget it ever happened.’

      The silence after this pronouncement was awful, endless. Angelos could hear Talia’s soft breathing; the gentle, hitched breaths reminding him of a hurt animal, of someone in pain.

      ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘I will accept what you’ve said. I can hardly do otherwise. But I would ask, for Sofia’s sake, that you not leave Kallos just yet. It was her birthday only yesterday, and she treasures this time with you. For her sake, will you stay? I will keep myself out of the way when the two of you are together. But just...’ Her voice broke and Angelos closed his eyes, a shudder of pain ripping through him. ‘Don’t leave yet. Please.’

      A long moment passed as Angelos mastered his composure. ‘Fine,’ he said, his voice toneless. ‘But I do need to return to Athens. But I’ll stay for a few more days. For Sofia’s sake.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Talia said softly, and then he heard the door open and click softly shut as she left the room.

      * * *

      She was so stupid. Slowly Talia walked upstairs, barricading herself in her bedroom as the realisation of how utterly she’d revealed and humiliated herself reverberated through her. She was so painfully, horribly stupid, to think Angelos cared about her. To demand he give a fledgling relationship between them a chance, when he obviously had no interest or intention of doing so. I think we like each other. What was she, in seventh grade?

      She leaned against the door and slid slowly to the floor, cradling her head in her hands. Stupid, stupid Talia. The first time you get a taste of life and love and you go crazy. At least she was wiser now. Next time, if there was a next time, she’d know not to go begging. She’d wait for a man to show her he cared for more than just a kiss, amazing as it had been.

      She heard Sofia go downstairs for breakfast, and then Angelos’s low, murmured greeting as he came out of the study. At least he’d said he would stay. If she left Kallos in a few weeks having helped to strengthen the relationship between Angelos and his daughter, she would be happy.

      Almost.

      The day dragged, with Talia both hopeful and afraid of seeing Angelos around the house. He closeted himself in his study, and after lunch she took Sofia swimming. They splashed around in the water for a while, enjoying the sun, joking in their strange yet workable mixture of English and Greek.

      ‘Sofia,’ Talia asked when they were lying on the beach, the salt drying on their skin, ‘did you like being on Naxos?’

      Sofia turned to look at her in surprise. ‘Ne...’

      ‘Would you like to go to school there? I saw there was a school in Chora. It’s not so far in a boat, and you could have friends, then, besides us boring old grown-ups.’

      Sofia frowned, trying to make out Talia’s meaning, and so she explained it more clearly. ‘School,’ she said. ‘Scholeio? In Chora?’

      Understanding brightened Sofia’s face before it fell and she shook her head. ‘Papa ohi,’ she said. ‘No.’

      ‘Papa said no?’

      ‘He not...want.’ She shrugged, and Talia nodded in understanding.

      ‘You think your father doesn’t want you to go to school in Chora,’ she surmised, and after a brief pause Sofia touched her scarred cheek, her fingers brushing the ridged flesh as she gazed at Talia with wide, sorrow-filled eyes. ‘Because of that?’ Talia exclaimed in surprise and dismay. ‘Sofia, no. Ohi. Your papa doesn’t care about that.’

      But Sofia just shook her head and looked away.

      * * *

      The conversation lingered with her for the rest of the day, and after a sleepless night Talia decided she would have to confront Angelos about this latest revelation. She knew he would not take kindly to her interference, and worse, she was afraid the idea that Sofia thought he wanted her to hide away because of her scar would hurt him. But he had to realise how his behaviour was affecting his daughter.

      It took three more days before she was finally able to find a moment alone with Angelos. He’d gone off the island for an overnight; Maria had said he was having a quick trip to Athens before returning, an explanation that satisfied Talia as she suspected previously he would have gone for weeks.

      When he came back he spent his time with Sofia and she tried to make herself scarce. She watched from her bedroom window as they built a sandcastle together, a ridiculously elaborate construction that made her smile even as her heart gave a little pulsing ache of sorrow. She wanted to be down there on the beach with them. She wanted Angelos to want it, but she knew he didn’t.

      Finally, the next morning while Sofia was at her lessons, Talia confronted Angelos in his study.

      His gaze sharpened and his mouth thinned as she stepped into his inner sanctum, trying not to let her fear show at his unwelcoming look.

      ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘I trust nothing is wrong with Sofia?’

      ‘Actually,’ Talia said as she closed the door, ‘something is.’

      Angelos straightened in his chair. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I spoke with her a few days ago, Angelos, and she said something that I think you need to know about.’

      ‘Which is?’

      ‘I asked her about going to school on Naxos...’

      ‘You what?’ His voice came out like a boom of thunder, and made her tremble nearly as much. ‘You had no right—’

      ‘I wanted to know if she’d ever considered going to school,’ Talia replied stubbornly, locking her knees and lifting her chin. ‘She had fun when we were on Naxos, and it seemed like a reasonable question to me...’

      ‘You know why she doesn’t want to go,’ Angelos said in a low voice that thrummed with anger.

      ‘I do now,’ Talia returned. ‘But do you?’

      He glared at her, fury simmering in his eyes and a muscle flickering in his temple. Even angry he was gorgeous, and she still longed for him. ‘What do you mean by that question?’

      ‘Sofia told me you don’t want her to go to school on Naxos.’

      ‘I want her to be comfortable,’ Angelos snapped. ‘And protected. I’ve seen how she is when we’re out in public. She hides her face—’

      ‘From you.’ Talia took a deep breath, knowing her next words would hurt, and perhaps even get her fired. ‘I think she believes you are ashamed of her, Angelos. Of her scar.’

      ‘What!’ Angelos’s voice came out in a crack like a gunshot, and he jerked back as if she’d been the one to fire the bullet. ‘How can you even...? I have

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