Page 32 of Virgin's Night with the Greek

‘I’m on Santorini,’ he drawled right back, reaching for the box that contained four fresh croissants, which he’d just been out to buy, and tipping them onto a plate. ‘And I’m working from home.’

‘So your assistant said. What I want to know is, why?’

‘Why not?’

There was a pause, during which Leo headed to the fridge for the yogurt, and then came a faintly concerned, ‘Are you ill?’

‘I’ve never felt better. Why do you ask?’

‘Because you haven’t worked from home in years. Or ever, come to think of it.’

‘As per your instructions,’ he said, thinking of Willow still slumbering upstairs and recalling the recommendation Zander had made on the balcony of the hotel at which Daphne’s wedding reception had taken place. ‘I’m lightening up. While continuing to work. You seem to manage it.’

‘Right. What’s going on?’

‘Nothing’s going on,’ he said as he tipped the yogurt into a bowl. ‘What’s going on with you?’

‘You sound odd.’

‘You sound confused.’

‘I am. This isn’t like you. When are you back?’

First thing tomorrowshould have been Leo’s answer, given that technically, all remained of his two-days-max weekend extension was this afternoon. Yet he couldn’t seem to formulate the words. Because the truth was, he didn’t want to have to return to reality just yet. He wanted to prolong his and Willow’s Mediterranean island mini break even further, but now not solely to ensure a continuation of the sex.

There were things about her he was increasingly keen to know. Such as how she’d become an artist. Why she’d chosen those colours for her hair and what the multiple earrings and the nose stud were all about. He was interested in finding out about her hopes, her dreams, her fears. To remind himself—in case he should need reminding—of all the reasons why long term she was wrong for him, naturally.

Since they’d arrived on the island and embarked on a sex marathon, conversation had generally been sparse, impersonal and inconsequential. Over a light lunch by the pool yesterday, however, the morning having been taken up with more calls and emails than he’d appreciated, she’d quizzed him on the Stanhope Kallis empire. Somehow they’d ended up talking about his family dynamics, an exchange which had turned out to be anything but trivial.

‘Why does it have to be you who does everything?’ she’d asked, popping adolmadesinto her mouth and making distractingly appreciative little sounds as she ate.

‘What do you mean?’ He’d selected an olive, tossed it in the air and caught it in his mouth, which had earned him a beaming smile and a brief round of applause.

‘You have five siblings,’ she’d then pointed out. ‘You all work for the business in one capacity or another. You’re all Selene’s children and you’re all now adults. You no longer have to be the one with all the responsibility.’

‘No,’ he’d had to admit, although, oddly, that had never occurred to him before. ‘That’s true. But it’s a role that was always destined to be mine and I’ve been doing it for years. Giving up control is a hard habit to break.’

‘You broke it for sex with me. You could break it for other things if you wanted to.’

Well, yes, he could, intheory, he’d supposed, but—’What I want is irrelevant.’

‘I’d give anything to have someone to share the responsibility of a parent with,’ she’d said before giving him an irritatingly knowing look and adding, ‘I think you’re a control freak.’

Leo had agreed. He was. With the suspicion that he shared too many regrettable genes with his mother and the brutal awareness that his success as CEO was down to sheer willpower rather than any innate talent, he had to be. And that was fine by him.

‘There are worse things to be,’ he’d said, wincing a little on the inside at the defensive note he could hear in his voice.

‘There are better things to be, too.’

Not wanting to argue the point, he’d pulled her onto his lap then and that had been that for conversation for an hour. But her observations had nevertheless hit home. The responsibility he bore was crushing, relentless and draining, and he was sick of the endless firefighting.

What if he let his siblings deal with their mother for a change, should the need arise? he thought now while his poor, bewildered brother waited for an answer down the other end of the line. Surely together they could figure it out. He didn’thaveto be the one Daphne and the others always turned to for help. And why couldn’t he delegate? Zander, his second in command—albeit hitherto in name only—was always on at him to loosen the reins. He’d be thrilled to take on more of the burden of the business, even temporarily.

In fact, he—Leo—could implement this new strategy this very minute. If he instructed his brother to take the helm for a while, he could remain on the island with Willow, who’d mentioned last night that she had a few weeks before she needed to travel to Italy to start her next commission, without the intrusion of emails and calls. Free from external demands, he could focus one hundred percent on getting to know the woman beneath the surface.

Zander was right. His current behaviour wasn’t like him, but the last couple of days had proved that the plates carried on spinning even if he wasn’t there to dash between the poles that held them up 24-7, and he hadn’t had a break in years. He might never have ditched duty for pleasure before, but he wouldn’t be leaving his ship without a captain. It was just that for, say, a few more days, that captain wouldn’t be him.

There was no need to feel queasy about it. Zander was extremely competent, and, possibly even more importantly, champing at the bit. He’d be able to handle all the different strands of the business that demanded the CEO’s attention. He was tough enough to face Selene down in the event that was required.

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