Page 5 of Virgin's Night with the Greek

Once he’d realised she wasn’t motivated by money, all that had remained was revealing the truth about the situation and appealing to her better nature, but if that didn’t work he didn’t know what he’d do. Steal the portrait and then destroy it?

He was finding it hard to think straight. His attention kept being drawn to those damn multicoloured toenails. He thought he could make out a faint hint of pink in her still damp hair, which was absurd. The gem in her nostril kept catching the light of the setting sun. And how many piercings did one pair of ears actually need?

Something about this woman was making him feel unhinged. His stomach was roiling in a way that even the choppiest waters he’d encountered while competitively sailing hadn’t managed. He had the unpleasant feeling that she could unravel his control with a click of her fingers if he didn’t exercise extreme caution, which was a concern because without it, he suspected the many plates he had spinning could well crash to the ground.

Butwhywas she having this effect on him? He’d faced down heads of governments. The toughest of business figures. His mother. This bizarre...susceptibility...was as nonsensical as it was unacceptable.

‘All right,’ she eventually said, snapping him out of his disturbing thoughts and back to the conversation. ‘I suggest a compromise.’

He blinked, astonishment jolting through him. ‘A compromise?’

‘Is that not a word you’re familiar with?’ she asked dryly.

‘No.’

‘Then allow me to explain. The portrait is too good and too important to me to be hidden away gathering dust. So itwillgo on display somewhere soon, and that’s non-negotiable. But I can understand your concerns with regard to the gossip about your mother overshadowing your sister’s big day. So I’m prepared to agree to a delay.’

A delay?

‘On one condition.’

‘Which is?’

‘I’d like an invitation to the wedding reception.’

Outwardly, Leo didn’t move a muscle. Inwardly, he reeled. That was ballsy of her. But why was he even entertaining this conversation when he could simply ransack the house for the portrait and cart it off with him? Where were his wits? Why were his feet glued to the ground instead of carrying him to the house to do just that?

‘The exhibition is a temporary one,’ she continued in the same confident tone before he could issue a flat out no. ‘By the time the wedding’s over it will be, too. I’ll miss my best chance of establishing my career. But if your guests are as influential as you claim, then access to them will make up for it. I promise to be subtle. I won’t hand out cards or do anything crass like that. You won’t even notice I’m there. One more guest among hundreds isn’t a huge price to pay to secure your sister’s happiness, surely. But it’s entirely up to you.’

She stopped, looking as cool as the proverbial cucumber, and he realised with an unsettling jolt that she’d turned the tables on him. He’d set out intending to bribe her into submission if necessary, but she was now the one who had him over a barrel, because he couldn’t steal the portrait and destroy it. She—or more likely, his mother—would probably have him arrested for theft and criminal damage, which would create an even greater scandal. If he wasn’t feeling so on edge and off balance, he’d have been impressed by Willow’s swift thinking and sharp practice.

‘So do we have a deal?’

Absolutely not, was the answer Leo instinctively wanted to give.Heproposed deals. He led the charge. He rarely surrendered control, especially not to beautiful but truculent women with multicoloured toenails, too many piercings and possibly pink hair.

And yet, as he recalled his intention to achieve his goal right here, right now, whatever it took, he had to reassess. ‘Whatever it took’ was turning out to be remarkably little. He’d been prepared to shell out thousands. All Willow and her better nature wanted was an invitation to a party which, as she’d so astutely pointed out, was going to be attended by hundreds anyway. If he agreed to her demands, he’d actually be getting off exceedingly lightly.

His sister’s happiness was more than worth the minor temporary cession of the control he valued so highly. It was worth everything, so he gave a short nod, a tight smile and said, ‘We have a deal.’

It had taken Willow twenty-four hours to get over the poolside encounter with Leo. Having sealed the deal with a bone-crushing handshake and a grudging request for her email address, he’d snatched up his shoes and socks and stalked off, leaving her scarcely able to believe she’d had the nerve to do what she’d done.

It could so easily have gone the other way. If he’d refused the invitation point-blank then that would have been that. She was ambitious, sure, but she wasn’t so ruthless she’d ride roughshod over another woman’s happiness. Especially one who’d suffered so much with her health, which she knew a little about. She’d have delayed the exhibition of the portrait anyway and her career would have been set back by who knew how much, but she’d have found solace in knowing she’d done the right thing.

However, he hadn’t refused, thank God. Her gamble had paid off. The question now was, would this one?

The taxi that had picked her up from the hostel she’d moved to after finishing the portrait last week drew up to the kerb some distance from the entrance to Athens’s finest hotel. At the sight of the guests making their way up the steps to the front door, the nerves knotting Willow’s stomach tightened. Camera flashes were going off left, right and centre, illuminating the dusk and making her blink, and for one brief moment she wondered what on earth she’d been thinking. This was the social event of the year. Celebrities, royalty, the great and the good, and...her?

Was she mad?

This wasn’t her world. She wasn’t wearing a ten-thousand-euro outfit and half a ton of diamonds. Her dress was plain and simple and borrowed, couriered over by a friend back home who owned a shop that rented out evening wear. She wore no jewellery apart from the gold watch she’d inherited from her mother, the tiny diamond in her nose that she’d bought with the money she’d earned from her first-ever commission and a variety of studs and rings that adorned her ears just because she liked them.

But then she rallied. The evening ahead wasn’t one to enjoy. It was work. She had a plan, a future to secure and the stakes were high. She was no better or worse than any of the other guests and she could talk to anyone. She hoped. So there’d be no more nerves. No more doubt about her place at this party. Her chin would be up and her shoulders back.

She wasn’t remotely bothered about crossing paths with the brother of the bride and host of the reception. Leo, with his wet-shirt-clad chest and his admirable concern for his sister, had occupied far too much of her head space over the last couple of weeks—even when she’d been confined to her hostel for a few days, curled up on the bed in agony and popping painkillers like sweets—but she didn’t intend to seek him out. There was no need to do so and it was highly unlikely he’d relish the opportunity to talk to her anyway, given the manner in which she’d wheedled her invitation out of him.

No. She would not be distracted by anyone or anything this evening. She would not dwell on the fact that night after night she’d woken up hot and achy and shaking after dreaming of him, which was baffling when their one and only encounter had been so brief and hostile. She would stop wondering whether he could truly be as devastatingly handsome as she recalled. She would put him entirely from her mind. If their eyes did happen to meet across a crowded room and she discovered that hewasas gorgeous as she remembered, she’d offer him a cool smile of acknowledgement and that would be it.

She’d created a golden opportunity for herself and her career here, she reminded herself firmly as she took a deep breath, adjusted her dress and opened the door. A chance to generate work and build her reputation like no other. And she was not going to waste it.

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