Page 11 of Penniless Cinderella for the Greek
‘My housekeeper Mary and her husband John look after the house and garden,’ Dimitris explained when they left the studio and walked along a path lined with lavender bushes and roses. The perfume of the flowers was intoxicating in the sultry air of the summer’s evening. The recent heatwave was forecast to end with thunderstorms.
‘John also drives me when I need a chauffeur. Did you park in the road?’ Savannah nodded. ‘Give me your keys and John will move your car onto the driveway.’
He ushered her through a set of French windows into an elegant drawing room with a parquet floor. ‘When the previous owners renovated the house they kept many of the original Victorian features,’ Dimitris explained, watching Savannah trace her fingers over the oak panels that lined the walls.
She followed him into a huge entrance hall with an exquisite tiled floor. ‘You have a beautiful house and an amazingly successful career. Did you ever imagine when you lived in a flat above your grandfather’s restaurant that you would be a famous chef and would own a property in an expensive part of London?’
‘Yes.’ His chiselled features showed no emotion. ‘I was always ambitious and knew where I wanted to be. I never doubted I would be successful.’
Dimitris had put his pursuit of success above everything else—including her. Savannah had always known it, but his stark admission did not hurt any less. His determination to establish his career had been at the expense of their relationship, such as it had been. She supposed he had used the money her father had given him to open his first restaurant in Greece.
The truth was that at eighteen she had been too young to fall in love. She had been looking for affection that her father had denied her, and she’d mistaken her teenage fascination with Dimitris for a deeper emotion. It infuriated her that she hadn’t forgotten him in ten years. But she was an adult now and meeting him again was an opportunity to realise that he was not a fairy tale prince but an ordinary man with flaws, and she hoped she would finally be able to get over him.
The woman who Savannah had met when she’d arrived at River Retreat that morning emerged from the kitchen. ‘Ah, Mary,’ Dimitris greeted her. ‘Can you show Miss O’Neal to the guest cloakroom. She will be staying for dinner. We’ll eat outside on the deck.’
A few minutes later Savannah groaned when she saw her reflection in the cloakroom mirror. Her ponytail had come loose, and she had panda eyes where her mascara had smudged in the heat of the studio lights. She ran her fingers through her choppy shoulder-length bob. When she had worked as a cosmetics model she’d been advised by a make-up artist to always keep in her handbag eyeliner and a rose-coloured lip gloss that doubled up as blusher, to highlight her cheekbones.
A voice came from the hall. ‘Miss O’Neal, I’ve brought you something to wear.’ Savannah opened the door and saw the housekeeper holding a pile of colourful silks. ‘Dimitris often hosts pool parties, and these kaftan dresses are for female guests if they want to cover up after swimming,’ Mary explained. ‘He suggested you might want to get changed and I’ll launder your clothes while you are having dinner.’
Savannah remembered in the magazine article about Dimitris there had been a photo of the swimming pool, which was a modern addition in the basement of the house. He had been pictured sprawled on a poolside lounger, surrounded by gorgeous women wearing tiny bikinis and not a kaftan in sight.
Back in the cloakroom, she stripped off her stained tee shirt and trousers. Sifting through the kaftans, she picked one made of pale gold silk. The flowing gown felt deliciously cool on her skin, and the golden threads woven through the material glimmered softly when she moved.
She tied the matching belt around her waist and slipped off her trainers, deciding to go barefoot. For a final touch she took her perfume spritzer from her handbag and sprayed her neck and wrists with her favourite fragrance. The scent evoked memories of her eighteenth birthday party.
It nearly hadn’t happened after her parents had been delayed by a tropical cyclone in Asia and were unable to fly home in time for her birthday. Her mother had persuaded her father to allow the party to go ahead. The sense of freedom had been heady when Savannah had woken on the day she turned eighteen, an adult free to make her own choices. Her first attempt to be more independent when she’d got a job as a waitress at Dimitris’s grandfather’s restaurant had not won her father’s approval as she’d hoped. He had said that Hestia’s restaurant in a run-down area of London was not the kind of place he expected his daughter to work. Savannah had felt that she could never please her father.
The party that evening had been on the terrace next to the outdoor pool. The party organisers had set up a champagne bar in the pool house and the caterers had served canapés. Savannah remembered that she had laughed and danced and given the impression that she was having a wonderful time. But as the hours had passed andhehadn’t arrived, she’d wanted to cry with disappointment.
‘Dimitris is working this evening,’ Eleni had told her when in a fiercely casual voice Savannah had asked if he was coming to the party. ‘The private function was booked at the last minute. My grandfather said we need the money and Dimitris must cook tonight, even though Hestia’s is usually closed on Sundays.’
Eleni had tired easily and needed to go home early. Savannah had wheeled her chair out to the car when her grandfather came to collect her. The party had palled after Eleni had left, and she’d been relieved when the other guests departed at eleven o’clock, leaving behind the debris of balloons and banners and birthday cake squashed onto the patio stones. She’d kicked off her high heels and sat on the side of the pool to dip her toes in the water when a deep voice over her shoulder caused her pulse to skyrocket...
‘Happy birthday, Savannah.’
Dimitris emerged from the shadows, and she scrambled to her feet, staring at him with her heart in her eyes. ‘You came,’ she said breathlessly.
‘I said I would.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Better late than never.’
There was still an hour left of her birthday and Dimitris’s arrival made it the best birthday ever. She smiled at him, and the low sound he made in his throat sent a quiver of excitement through her. It occurred to her that she’d only ever seen him at the restaurant when she answered the service bell or carried dirty plates to the sink. Her shy overtures and his playful flirting had taken place in a busy kitchen. This was the first time she’d been alone with him.
‘I have never seen you look as beautiful as you do tonight.’ Dimitris had only ever seen her wearing a waitress’s uniform. Savannah had spent hours choosing a dress for the party, and she hoped the silver halter-neck gown would make him realise that she wasn’t a foolish girl. She was a woman with needs that only he could fulfil.
‘This is for you,’ he said huskily. ‘Your birthday present.’
She took the package he held out and ripped off the brightly coloured wrapping paper to reveal a bottle of perfume. Sensuelle, the new fragrance by a famous perfume house, was exorbitantly expensive.
‘Thank you, but you shouldn’t have...’ she faltered, blushing at her clumsiness.
‘I won’t always be poor,’ he drawled. There was steel beneath his soft tone. ‘Allow me.’ He unscrewed the lid on the bottle and tipped a few drops of perfume onto his fingertip. ‘Move your hair.’
Mesmerised by him, she lifted her hair and he pressed his finger to the sensitive spot behind her ear, transferring the exquisite fragrance to her skin. Her heart thudded as Dimitris trailed his fingers over her neck and collarbone, hovered over the pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat, before sliding down her décolletage to the vee between her breasts.
‘You’ve driven me crazy for weeks.’ His hoarse admission made her feel dizzy with desire and when he drew her into his arms she tilted her face up to his and parted her lips for his kiss. Dimitris’s eyes were the inky blue of the night sky and gleamed as brightly as the stars. ‘I want to make love to you,mátia mou.’
She pressed herself closer to him, eager to become a woman and give her body to the man who had captured her heart. ‘I want you too.’
Swallowing hard, Savannah jerked her mind back to the present. Ten years ago she had been young and in love. She’d naively believed that Dimitris felt the same way about her—although he’d never actually said that he loved her, she thought with a heavy sigh.
