Kelly Hunter - Paradise Nights

‘More or less.’

‘My immediate family live in Melbourne. All of them. I can’t imagine them living anywhere but in each other’s pockets.’

‘Is this a bad thing?’ he asked curiously.

‘Hard to say.’ She shrugged. ‘Everyone always knows what everyone else is doing. Whether that’s a bad thing tends to depend on whether they approve of what you’re doing. If they don’t …’ She shrugged again.

‘And do your family approve of your plans for the future? The photojournalism career? The endless travel away from the family bosom?’

‘Let’s just say they don’t quite understand,’ she said lightly, but her eyes told a different, darker story.

‘Maybe one day they will.’

She smiled and leaned back in her chair. ‘You’re a nice man, Pete Bennett. Idealistic, but nice.’

There was that word again. Nice. She really should stop bandying it about. It made a man uncomfortable. ‘You do know that nice isn’t really on this evening’s agenda?’ he told her softly. ‘That would be the wrong notion to be carrying around altogether.’

Her smile held equal measures of wickedness and delight. ‘I’d be very disappointed if it was.’

A weathered old man appeared beside the table, glaring at him from beneath thick grey eyebrows and over a strongly hooked nose. ‘You’ll order now,’ he said.

Pete looked to Serena and raised an eyebrow. ‘Care to order?’

‘My usual, Pappou Theo. The fish stew and the salad.’

‘Pappou Theo?’ he murmured.

‘Honorary grandfather,’ she said. ‘One of my grandfather’s pinochle partners.’

That explained the scowl. ‘I’ll have the oysters and then the fish stew,’ he said. ‘Serena tells me good things about it.’

‘No oysters for you!’ said the old man emphatically. ‘Greek salad with many onions. You’ll like.’ The old man turned to Serena again and surveyed her critically. ‘Does Nico know you’re here?’

‘Yes, Pappou.’

‘And when does he expect you home? At a reasonable hour, I hope.’

‘Yes, Pappou. Very reasonable.’

The old man muttered to himself beneath his breath and turned back to Pete. ‘Drinks?’ he barked.

‘Some white wine?’ Pete looked to Serena.

‘No!’ said the old man. ‘No wine.’

‘Raki?’

‘Pig swill,’ he said.

‘Beer?’

‘Not for you. I’ll bring the water over,’ said the old man, and stalked away.

Pete stared after him. ‘That went well.’

‘I did warn you,’ she said. ‘I told you there’d be sharks. You told me you could swim.’

‘I can swim.’ And he was enjoying the challenge of getting past her guardians. He watched as the old man ambled towards the kitchen with their order. ‘I’m just rethinking our next evening meal. I have a plan.’

‘Is it a cunning plan?’

‘It involves travel off the island. For you.’

‘I like it,’ she said. ‘Simple yet effective.’

‘How far away do you think we’ll have to get before you run out of relatives?’

‘Three or four islands over,’ she said breezily. ‘Five at the most. Or we could play it really safe and go to Istanbul for the evening. That’d work.’

‘You don’t have any relatives in Turkey?’

‘None we admit to.’

‘So … ‘He began to think of more immediate options. ‘What would a man have to do to earn your family’s approval to court you?’

‘You want to court me? I’m thinking courtship comes under the heading of nice again.’

‘I’m speaking theoretically.’

‘Well, theoretically, it’d help if you were Greek and owned a shipping line.’

‘How about Australian and co-owner of a small charter airline?’

‘I’d have to check. Tell me … are you of Greek Orthodox religion?’

‘Catholic,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Lapsed.’

‘You might want to keep that to yourself,’ she said.

‘You should probably stick to talk of undying devotion to me, an exceptionally large income, a huge wedding, and your longing to help produce half a dozen children in very short order.’

‘How many children?’ he spluttered.

‘Oh, okay, five then. But that’s my absolute minimum.’

‘You want five children? In very short order? Are we sure about this?’ She didn’t look all that sure. ‘Two,’ he said firmly. ‘Two’s a good number. Any more than two and we won’t all fit in the helicopter.’

‘Four,’ she countered with a grin. ‘And we’re definitely going to need a bigger helicopter. Something roomy and safe. Family-minded. A Volvo of a helicopter.’

‘Oh, that’s harsh,’ he murmured. ‘Anyone would think you didn’t want a man to consider a serious relationship with you.’

‘They’d be right.’

‘God, you’re perfect,’ he said. ‘I swear you stand a very good chance of ruining me for all other women.’

‘That’s quite a compliment,’ she countered. ‘But I really don’t want to ruin you for anyone. I just want to play a while.’

‘Utterly and irrevocably perfect,’ he said on a sigh. ‘Hell, Serena, you might just ruin me anyway.’

Their meal arrived and they ate it. Sinfully rich stew with a smattering of easy conversation on the side. Pete knew the game of seduction very well and played it with a skill that left her breathless and more than a little intrigued as to what would come next. A rakish smile or a challenging question? A sidestep here, advance, or retreat? He kept her guessing. Kept her amused and entertained.

She was a curious woman by nature, but he did a remarkable job of making her want to know more of him. Like what it was that had put the shadows in his eyes, and what he was doing here, flying tourists around the sky, when every instinct she owned told her there was so much more to him than this.

‘Coffee?’ he suggested as Theo cleared their plates away. ‘Dessert?’ Theo opened his mouth as if to refuse them that as well. Pete eyed him coolly. ‘Of course, if there’s nothing available here I’d be happy to take you somewhere else.’

They got their coffee and dessert. They also got a taxi without having to order it. It was leaving within the next five minutes, Theo told them. It’d be a good idea if Serena were in it. She didn’t disagree.

Pete looked amused but neither did he.

They were back at the little whitewashed cottage on the hillside by a quarter to ten. Serena waited in silence as Pete paid the taxi driver and, stepping back, looked towards her front door. ‘No sharks,’ he said. ‘There’s a surprise.’

‘Nico’s pretty easygoing,’ she said dryly. ‘I can’t see him objecting too much to our having dinner up at Theo’s.’

‘Can’t you?’ There was that soul-stealing smile again. ‘I can.’

Nico had left the outside light on for them, but before she could decide how to end the evening, whether to invite him in, cut and run, or try and figure out something in between, the door opened and Nico stood there glaring at them both.

‘You’re still awake,’ she said, surprised. Nico usually bedded down far earlier than this. All that getting-up-before-dawn business.

‘Have you any idea how many phone calls I’ve had about you tonight?’ he demanded.

‘Er … more than you wanted?’

‘One was more than I wanted. I’ve had four. Four! Two from Theo, one from Marianne Papadopoulos, and one from your mother! And don’t ask me how she knew you were out on a date, because I have no idea. Anyone would think you were making love on the tabletop.’ He eyed them narrowly. ‘Were you?’

‘No!’ Serena’s hands went to her hips and her temper slid up a notch. ‘We were trying to have a meal, and a restricted one at that. When was the last time you went out to dinner and Theo refused you oysters and alcohol?’