Page 10 of Penniless Cinderella for the Greek
‘It makes sense for you to do the photoshoot as you are already here. I don’t have time for a delay.’ Dimitris’s jaw hardened. ‘I must go to Greece to support my sister.’
Savannah remembered how caring and protective he had been of Eleni years ago. She had even felt envious that he loved his sister but not her. From his curt tone she guessed he still blamed her for Eleni’s broken engagement. Her temper simmered. She couldn’t work with Dimitris while she was conscious of his disapproval.
‘Is Eleni very upset?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think Matt Collier made a fool of us both, and I also think Eleni could do better than to marry a cheat and liar.’
Dimitris stared at her, and Savannah thought she saw an imperceptible softening of his hard features that gave her hope he was prepared to believe she had been duped by Matt to have a relationship with him.
‘Tell me about your methods for photographing food,’ he said, breaking the tense silence between them. ‘I see you use a DSLR.’
‘A digital single-lens reflex camera allows me to shoot a lot of pictures fast so that I can capture every detail of a dish as it is being created. I’ll take literally hundreds of shots to achieve the perfect image. Speed is of the essence,’ Savannah explained as she warmed to her theme. ‘I’ve discovered that it only takes seconds before a bowl of pasta loses its glossiness and looks dry, and crisp lettuce leaves adorned with a creamy dressing soon wilt and appear unappealing.’
He nodded. ‘I agree that food must look so real it almost leaps off the page. When readers look at photographs in a magazine, rather than see inanimate pictures I want their senses to be fired so that they imagine the aroma of spicy lamb koftas and the crispy texture of filo pastry.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘There is a lot to do. I hope you’re prepared for a long day.’
She followed Dimitris over to the kitchen island and watched him assemble the ingredients for the first dish he would cook. He moved with an easy grace and once again she was struck by how incredibly handsome he was. It was no surprise that he was a sex symbol to his legions of female fans. But Savannah was determined to ignore her inconvenient attraction to him and concentrate on the job that gave her the means to financially support her mum and pay for the care Evelyn needed as her MS worsened.
Tears pricked her eyes. Her mum was the sweetest, kindest person. Gentle and unworldly, Evelyn had been an art therapist who had devoted her time to helping others until her illness had forced her to give up work and she was no longer able to paint. Savannah would do anything for her mum, even if it meant working with the man who had once broken her heart. After today she would not have to see Dimitris again, but meanwhile her camera felt comfortably familiar in her hands as she started to shoot.
Hours later Savannah stretched, her muscles tight from standing for long periods of time and aiming her camera. She hitched herself onto a stool in front of the counter and opened her laptop to download the last batch of photographs. It would take her a few days to edit the pictures before sending them to the team at Philpot’s. The art director and Dimitris would have the final say on which photos would appear in the magazine.
The photoshoot had been fast-paced and hectic, and she’d discovered that Dimitris was a consummate professional. He was a talented and passionate chef, and his recipes were innovative yet unfussy. Savannah had worked with many chefs since she’d become a food photographer, including some who were full of their own self-importance and strutted around the kitchen like demi-gods, shouting orders at their hapless assistants.
Dimitris was relaxed and charming, and he’d worked tirelessly throughout the long day to produce twelve different dishes—most chefs would make four or five. He’d insisted that the production team took breaks to eat the food once it had been photographed, but Savannah had been too engrossed in her work and had only drunk a couple of cups of coffee all day.
The awkwardness she’d felt with Dimitris had disappeared while they’d worked together. He had been keen for her to take unusual shots—a close-up of a mussel, a garlic clove at the moment it was crushed beneath the blade of a knife, spaghetti sliding out of the pan and falling messily onto a plate.
‘I’m looking for authenticity in the photos,’ he explained. ‘Food shouldn’t be perfectly arranged on a plate. Real food is honest and sexy, and I want images that make people drool.’
The dishes he created were a feast for the senses, and his energy and enthusiasm made him the most exciting chef Savannah had ever worked with. The photographs she had taken were some of her best, even to her perfectionist eyes. Looking up from her laptop some while later, she discovered that she was alone. The production team had packed up the lighting equipment and props and the kitchen assistants had cleared away the mountain of pots and pans. The studio was peaceful, bathed in the golden sunlight of a summer’s evening.
Dimitris emerged from his dressing room. Evidently he’d just showered, and his hair was still damp and curled rebelliously over his collar. He had changed his clothes again and was wearing a white silk shirt and narrow black trousers that from their superb tailoring were doubtless a designer brand. Everything about the way he looked spoke of a successful self-made multi-millionaire who had reached the pinnacle of his career and was comfortable in his own skin.
He stood behind Savannah and looked over her shoulder at the photos on her laptop screen. ‘These are very good.’
‘They’ll be better after I’ve edited them.’ She breathed in the citrus and spice scent of his cologne and felt a tug deep in her pelvis. ‘I hadn’t noticed how late it is. I’m sure you want to rush back to Greece to comfort your sister. Eleni must be devastated that her marriage plans have been ruined.’
‘At least she discovered that Matt Collier is an unreliable cheat before she married him,’ Dimitris said evenly. ‘Eleni called to say she is going to stay with friends in Santorini for a few days and I am not in a rush to return to Rhodes.’
‘I expect you have plans for the evening.’ The tabloids had recently been in a frenzy after Dimitris was spotted leaving a nightclub with an actress from a popular TV soap. Savannah felt a stab of jealousy. She was desperate to leave before he guessed how much he still affected her. She packed up her laptop and slid off the stool, but an agonising sensation of pins and needles in her foot made her legs buckle.
Dimitris caught hold of her arm as she stumbled. ‘Are you all right?’ He cursed. ‘I’m not surprised that you almost fainted. You didn’t eat anything all day.’
‘I’m fine.’ She prayed he did not notice the frantic thud of her pulse in her wrist.
He clearly wasn’t convinced. ‘You can’t drive home while you are feeling lightheaded. You had better stay for dinner.’
Savannah bit her lip. Dimitris had sounded far from enthusiastic. ‘Three’s a crowd. I assumed you have a date tonight,’ she mumbled when he raised an eyebrow.
‘I don’t,’ he said drily.
She looked away from his enigmatic gaze and saw a white stain down the front of her black tee shirt. The likely culprit was yoghurt. A tub had been spilt over the worktop and must have transferred to her clothes when she’d leaned in to take a close-up shot of a dish of moussaka with a yoghurt and cheese topping.
‘You can freshen up at the house. Besides, we still need to discuss what you intend to do about replacing my phone.’ He picked up her camera bag. ‘Can you walk, or do you still feel faint?’
‘I’m fine. It was just a cramp in my foot.’ Common sense told her to decline his offer of dinner, but the microwavable meal waiting for her at home did not hold much appeal, and the opportunity to see inside his home was irresistible.
