Kate Hewitt - A Di Sione For The Greek's Pleasure

And then, no doubt, have him boot her out the door, and any chance to recover Giovanni’s book would be gone for ever.

Angelos was talking to Sofia again in Greek and Talia could feel her vision blur as the headache that had been skirting the fringes of her mind threatened to take over. The room felt hot, the air stale, and her legs were starting to tremble again.

‘Do you mind...’ she murmured, and sank into the chair, dropping her head into her hands as she took several deep breaths.

Angelos broke off his conversation with his daughter to enquire sharply, ‘Miss Di Sione? Are you all right?’

Talia took another deep breath as her vision started to swim.

‘Miss Di Sione?’

‘Talia,’ she corrected him. ‘And no, actually, I think I’m going to faint.’

CHAPTER TWO

ANGELOS SWORE UNDER his breath as the woman in front of him went limp, her head drooping down between her knees.

He shouted for Eleni and then went over to Talia, crouching down by her chair as he put an arm around her shoulders and attempted to prop her up.

‘Sorry,’ she managed as her head lolled against his arm. She felt like a rag doll in his arms, boneless and light. Her hair brushed his cheek.

‘Papa, is she going to be all right?’ Sofia asked anxiously, and Angelos nearly swore again. The last thing his daughter needed was to worry about some stranger.

‘Yes, of course,’ he said, more tersely than he intended. ‘She’s just come over faint for a moment.’

His assistant came hurrying into the room, and Angelos barked out an order for a glass of water. ‘Make it juice,’ he snapped as Eleni headed out to the reception area. ‘Her blood sugar might be low.’

He glanced back at Talia, whose eyes were closed, her once rosy face now pale and bloodless. Her golden lashes fanned her cheeks and her lips parted slightly on a shaky breath. Then her eyes fluttered open and her gaze clashed with Angelos’s. For a second he felt jarred, as if he’d missed the last step on a staircase. He was suddenly conscious of his arm around her shoulders, her breasts pressed against his chest. Then she struggled to sit upright and he let his arm fall away.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t normally do that.’

‘Don’t you?’ he bit out, and she glanced at him uncertainly.

‘No...’

‘The thing is,’ Angelos said, his voice still hard, ‘I don’t know the first thing about you, Miss Di Sione. And yet you want me to entrust my daughter into your care.’

She gazed at him for a moment, the hazel of her eyes so clear he felt a sudden flicker of shame at his curt tone and implied accusation. Then she looked away from him, to Sofia.

‘I’m all right, Sofia,’ she said softly, and Angelos saw his daughter’s expression brighten as she gave Talia a trembling smile.

She was the first woman today, Angelos acknowledged, who had actually cared what his daughter was feeling. Had concerned herself with Sofia at all. And he realised that from the moment Sofia had entered his office, Talia had not made anything of his daughter’s scarred face. She hadn’t overcompensated either way; she’d simply acted as if it hadn’t mattered at all. The realisation made him feel both glad and completely wrong-footed, because it was still obvious to him that Talia Di Sione was utterly unsuitable to be a nanny. No qualifications, no references...he didn’t even know how she’d heard of the job or why she’d shown up for it.

And yet he felt on a gut level that she was the right choice, the only choice. Because she cared about his daughter.

Eleni came in with a crystal glass of apple juice on a tray and Talia took it with a murmured thanks. ‘I’m sorry to be a bother,’ she said, glancing at Angelos from under her lashes as she took a sip of juice. ‘I’m fine now, really.’

‘It’s no bother.’ Angelos paused. Talia was clearly the best choice for the position, and yet still he resisted. He liked things to be clear-cut, to make sense. He appreciated quantitative qualifications, experience over instinct. God knows his instincts had been wrong in the past. He trusted facts now, hard and solid and certain. Emotion, instinctual or otherwise, had no place in his life.

And yet... He watched as Talia smiled at Sofia and said something that made his daughter smile shyly back. Sofia caught his frowning gaze and gave him a hesitant smile and a discreet thumbs-up. This was the first woman she’d approved of. Should he trust his daughter’s instinct as well as his own?

His resolve hardened along with the set of his jaw. He had no choice. He needed to hire a nanny today, so he could return to work and Sofia could be cared for. He turned to Talia. ‘Can you be ready to leave in an hour?’

* * *

Talia blinked, her vision starting to swim again as she took in Angelos’s request. ‘Leave...?’ she repeated, and he gave an impatient nod.

‘I’d like to return to Kallos within the hour.’

Knowing she was sounding stupid, Talia couldn’t keep herself from repeating him yet again. ‘Kallos...?’

‘My home,’ Angelos clarified. ‘Did you not read the advertisement I placed, Miss Di Sione?’

‘Spiti,’ Talia said, remembering Sofia’s drawing, and surprise flickered in Angelos’s mahogany eyes.

‘Yes, home.’ He paused, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made goose bumps rise on Talia’s arms. ‘So you do know a little Greek.’

‘Very little.’ Talia dragged a deep breath into her lungs and tried to force her mind to clear. She felt a hot tide of embarrassment wash over her to think how weak and helpless she must have looked to Angelos Mena, practically collapsing in his office. It was just that she hadn’t eaten anything for hours, and the emotional and physical exhaustion of dealing with so many strange things had finally overwhelmed her. But she was better now. She’d make herself be.

She straightened, putting the glass of juice on the desk with a clink. ‘Mr—Kyrie Mena, I’m afraid this has all got a little out of hand...’ She felt another blush rising as Angelos’s eyebrows snapped together in irritated confusion. If she told him the real reason for her being here now, he’d be utterly furious. She might have only met the man a few minutes ago, but she knew him well enough to understand that Angelos Mena would be enraged to learn she actually had no intention or interest in being his daughter’s nanny.

Except...could she really say that? Talia’s gaze slid to Sofia, who was watching her anxiously, her dark hair swinging in front of her face to hide her scarred cheek. Sofia met her gaze and gave a fragile smile.

‘Parakalo,’ she whispered, which Talia knew meant please. ‘Come,’ she added, her voice tentative, the English word sounding hesitant on her lips.

Talia’s heart twisted hard in sympathy, just as it had when she’d first laid eyes on this girl. Sofia wanted her to come, and it was only for six weeks. And surely in six weeks she’d find an opportunity to ask Angelos about the book, even to get him to give her the book. More importantly, she might be able to help Sofia. At least she could offer her friendship.

Why shouldn’t she accept this job?

Because it was strange and unexpected, and she’d have to deal with all sorts of things she’d avoided for the last seven years. Because she was in no position to help anyone, when she hadn’t been able to help herself. When she was already out of her depth, suffering panic attacks, afraid of the future.

And never mind her own deficiencies, by accepting this job she’d be deceiving this family, even if it was out of good intentions. She was pretty sure Angelos Mena would see her actions as questionable, perhaps even reprehensible. She was no nanny.