Kitabı oku: «The Greek's Acquisition», sayfa 3

CHAPTER THREE

‘ON THIS tour of the Louvre you will be able to admire some of the world’s greatest masterpieces, including the Wedding Feast at Cana, the Venus de Milo, and of course, the Mona Lisa.’

Louise addressed the group of visitors who were assembled in the Hall Napoléon, beneath the spectacular glass pyramid. One of her duties as a visitors’ assistant was to give tours in both French, which she spoke fluently, and English. Her group this afternoon seemed to be mainly American and Japanese tourists, who nodded and smiled to show that they had understood her.

‘If you would like to follow me, we will go first to the Denon Wing.’

Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a figure striding across the hall and she waited, assuming the man wanted to join the tour. But as he drew closer her heart performed a somersault beneath her ribs.

What was Dimitri doing here? Yesterday had been the third day since she had visited him at his office in Athens. By midnight, when he hadn’t contacted her, she had assumed he had decided not to buy Eirenne, and she had spent all night worrying about how she was going to raise the money for her mother’s treatment.

The rest of her tour group were already climbing the stairs when he halted in front of her. The glint of amusement in his olive-green eyes told her he knew she was shocked to see him, and to her irritation she felt herself blush as if she was still the schoolgirl who years ago had had a huge crush on him. She hated the effect he had on her, but good manners forced her to greet him with a cool smile.

‘Did you want to see me? I’m just about to conduct a tour of the museum, so I’m afraid I can’t talk to you right now, but if you give me your phone number I’ll call you as soon as I’m free.’

‘Don’t let me interrupt you.’ He indicated that she should follow her tour group, and fell into step beside her as she headed towards the stairs.

‘So you realised your dream,’ he murmured.

She gave him a startled glance—and immediately wished she hadn’t made eye contact with him when her heart gave a jolt. He was even more gorgeous in real life than in the image of him that she had been unable to dismiss from her mind for the past three days. She was supremely conscious of his height and his toned, muscular body as he walked beside her. He was wearing a suit but no tie, and the top couple of his shirt buttons were undone to reveal the tanned column of his throat. The dark stubble shading his jaw added to his raffish sex appeal.

Louise choked back a slightly hysterical laugh as she imagined his reaction if she gave in to the crazy urge to reach up and press her lips to the sensual curve of mouth. She bit her lower lip and the sharp pain brought her to her senses. ‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ she said shortly.

‘I remember you studied the history of art at university, and you told me your ambition was to work at an art museum. I think you spent some time as volunteer at the National Gallery in London while you were a student.’

‘I’m sure I bored you to death, talking about my career plans.’

She was embarrassed to remember how unsophisticated she had been at nineteen. No one had ever taken much interest in her before—her mother had always been too busy with her own life. She had been dazzled by Dimitri, and had lapped up his attention like a puppy desperate to please its master, she thought painfully. It was a surprise to hear that he had actually listened to her.

‘I assure you—you never bored me, Loulou,’ he said softly.

His use of her nickname took her back in time—to seven years ago when she had been young and heartbreakingly naïve. She remembered the old house among the pine trees on Eirenne, the feel of warm sunshine on her skin, and Dimitri whispering her name reassuringly as he drew her down onto a bed and slanted his lips over hers. ‘I want you, my lovely Loulou.’

She snapped back to the present. ‘Please don’t call me that. I prefer to use my proper name rather than a childish nickname.’

‘Louise is certainly more elegant,’ he agreed. ‘It suits you.’

Dimitri turned his head and subjected her to an unhurried appraisal, taking in her honey-blond hair swept up into a chignon and the functional navy-blue uniform that all the Louvre’s visitors’ assistants wore. She looked neat, almost demure, with barely any make-up other than a slick of pale pink gloss on her lips. Unlike when she had visited him in Athens, she was not dressed as a femme fatale today, but her plain clothes could not disguise her innate sensuality. Desire uncoiled in Dimitri’s gut and he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her temptingly soft mouth.

Flustered by the hard glitter in Dimitri’s eyes, Louise tore her gaze from him and increased the speed she was walking at so that she could catch up with the group of visitors ahead of her.

‘Well, anyway, after I gained my degree I did a post-grad in Museum Studies, which included a three month placement at the Louvre, and I was lucky enough to be offered a permanent position.’ She frowned as a thought occurred to her. ‘How did you know I work here? I’m sure I didn’t mention it.’

‘I had a private investigator check you out.’

‘You did what?’ She stopped dead and glared at him. ‘How dare you? ’

‘Quite easily,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I needed to be sure you are the legal owner of Eirenne and that you have the right to sell it.’

It was a reasonable explanation, Louise acknowledged grudgingly. But the idea that an investigator had been nosing around in her private life was horrible, and it made her feel like a criminal. Another thought struck her. What if his sleuth had found out about her mother’s illness and learned that Tina’s only chance of survival was to have expensive specialist treatment in America? Had Dimitri discovered why she needed a lot of money as quickly as she could lay her hands on it?

She focused on what he had said a moment ago and looked at him uncertainly. ‘When I didn’t hear from you yesterday I assumed you had decided not to buy Eirenne.’

‘I haven’t made a decision yet. I require a little more time to think about it.’

‘Oh …’ Louise’s breath left her in a whoosh as relief flooded through her.

Dimitri was clearly interested in buying the island—otherwise he would have told her straight that they did not have a deal. The lifeline for her mother which last night had seemed out of reach was still a possibility. She sagged against the wall, struggling to regain her composure, and did not see the intent look he gave her.

‘It infuriates me that the only way I can regain ownership of my birthright, which should never have passed out of the Kalakos family’s possession, is to buy it back,’ he told her harshly. ‘But my grandparents are buried on Eirenne, and my sister is distressed at the prospect of losing it for good. It is for Ianthe’s sake more than anything else that I am still considering your offer, but I need more information regarding the sale. We’ll discuss the details over dinner tonight.’

He hadn’t lost any of his arrogance, Louise thought ruefully. It clearly hadn’t occurred to him that she might not be free tonight. But he was calling the shots. If he had asked her to meet him on the moon at midnight she would have done her best to get there, because he had given her hope that her mother might have a chance of beating the disease that was ravaging her body.

They had reached the Pre-Classical Greek Gallery, where ancient sculptures were displayed on marble plinths. At the far end of the gallery, at the top of a wide staircase, stood the majestic Winged Victory of Samothrace. The group of visitors had paused and were waiting expectantly for Louise to begin the tour.

She glanced at Dimitri. ‘I don’t finish my shift until seven-thirty tonight.’

‘I’ll meet you at eight-fifteen at La Marianne on the Rue de Grenelle. Do you know it?’

Louise had heard of the exclusive restaurant, which had a reputation for serving the finest French cuisine and charging exorbitant prices. It was not the sort of place her salary would stretch to, she thought ruefully.

‘I’ll be there,’ she confirmed. ‘Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me.’

She turned and walked away from him, fighting an uncharacteristic urge to burst into tears. She rarely cried. Ever since the miscarriage few things had seemed important enough to cry about. But her emotions seemed to be all over the place. Meeting Dimitri again had brought back painful memories.

She wished she did not have to see him again. But perhaps tonight he would agree to buy Eirenne. The sale would be dealt with by their respective lawyers, Dimitri would return to Greece, and maybe, if she tried hard enough, she would forget him, she told herself. But the assurance rang as hollow as her footsteps on the floor of the gallery.

Pinning a smile on her face, she joined her group of visitors and began the guided tour, leading them first to view the paintings in the Grande Galerie. Usually she enjoyed giving tours, but to her dismay Dimitri had joined the group, instead of leaving the museum as she had expected him to do. He made no attempt to talk to her, and appeared to listen intently to the information she gave on various artworks. She tried to ignore him and concentrate on the tour, but she found his presence disconcerting—especially when she glanced at him a couple of times and discovered his olive-green eyes were focused on her rather than a Raphael or a Caravaggio hanging on the gallery walls.

From the Grande Galerie she led the group into the Salle des Etats, where the Mona Lisa’s enigmatic expression was protected behind bulletproof glass. The world’s most famous portrait needed little introduction, and Louise stood back while the visitors crowded around the barrier.

‘I have to say the most famous painting in the world is rather smaller than I’d imagined,’ Dimitri murmured wryly.

She tensed when she found him standing next to her, but she could not refrain from smiling. ‘I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been told that. I hope you’re not disappointed. The Mona Lisa is exquisite. But personally I find the Wedding Feast at Cana more interesting.’ She turned towards the immense painting on the opposite wall. ‘The colours are so intense that the figures seem to almost leap from the canvas.’

‘You love your work, don’t you? I can hear the passion in your voice.’

Something in Dimitri’s tone caused Louise’s heart to skip a beat. Passion was such an evocative word. It brought back memories of the wildfire passion they had shared on Eirenne—memories she had never been able to forget and which now flooded her mind with such shocking clarity that once again she felt herself blush. She darted him a glance, startled to find that his eyes were focused on her, and she felt certain that he was also remembering the past.

‘I feel very privileged to work at the Louvre,’ she admitted, thankful that she sounded cool and composed even though she did not feel it. ‘But I’m surprised you decided to join the tour. Are you interested in art?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s not a subject I have ever studied in great detail, but even for a layman it is impossible not to be awed by the beauty and the history of the masterpieces on display. I enjoyed the tour. You have a way of bringing the works of the Great Masters to life with your expertise and enthusiasm.’

Louise’s melodious voice and her impressive knowledge of the historical artworks housed in the Louvre had made the tour fascinating, but if Dimitri was honest he had spent more time studying the attractive guide than the paintings. She was seriously beautiful, and he was slightly ashamed of his erotic fantasy in which he ripped off her prim skirt and blouse and had hot, hungry sex with her on one of the plush red velvet bench-seats that were dotted around the gallery.

He didn’t even understand what he was doing here, he thought irritably. He was interested in buying the island, but in truth he was intrigued by Louise. Seeing her again had awoken memories of the brief time they had spent together, and he had come to Paris and spent the past hour looking at paintings of fat cherubs when he should be working on the Russian deal.

He hadn’t been able to get her out of his thoughts since she had turned up at his office. He had never forgotten what had happened between them on Eirenne. But seven years was a long time. During those years he had been focused on establishing his own company and then proving that he was a worthy successor to his father at Kalakos Shipping, and his memories of the pretty nineteen-year-old girl he had known as Loulou had faded.

The grown-up Louise was an attractive woman no red-blooded male would forget in a hurry, Dimitri mused. But since he was a young man he’d had more beautiful mistresses than he cared to remember. He couldn’t explain what it was about Louise. All he knew was that his trousers felt uncomfortably tight, and he did not dare to meet her cool gaze in case she guessed he was fantasising about making love to her right here in the most famous art gallery in the world.

He cleared his throat. ‘I come to Paris frequently for business, but I’ve never had time to visit the Louvre.’ He glanced at his watch and grimaced. ‘Regrettably, my free time rarely lasts for long. I’m due to hold a conference call in half an hour, and I must to go back to my hotel.’

There was a hint of weariness in his voice, and the fine lines fanning around his eyes told of someone who worked long hours and no doubt spent too much time in front of a computer screen. Louise felt an unwanted tug of sympathy for him. But perhaps he was tired for a different reason, she reminded herself sharply. He had a reputation as a playboy, and his numerous affairs were discussed with frenzied interest in the gossip columns. She was ashamed of the little stab of jealousy she felt when she pictured him making love to one of the gorgeous, glossy-haired American supermodels he seemed to favour. How Dimitri lived his life was of no interest to her, she reminded herself. Yet something intrigued her …

‘I heard that your father named you as his successor to run Kalakos Shipping, despite his threat to disinherit you,’ she murmured.

She wanted to ask him if he and his father had resolved their differences, but she did not dare mention the bitter argument between the two men about Kostas’s affair with her mother.

Dimitri nodded. ‘It was a shock, frankly. I hadn’t expected it. You know of the rift between me and my father. I was determined to make it in business without his help and I set up my own company, which became extremely successful. But I sold Fine Living a year ago so that I could concentrate on Kalakos Shipping. Running it is a huge responsibility—especially at the moment, when my country is experiencing financial problems. The company employs thousands of staff and I have a duty to protect their jobs. Hence the importance of the business deal I am currently negotiating.’

‘As you’re so busy, why don’t we forget dinner?’ Louise seized the opportunity to avoid seeing him again. ‘You have my phone number, and you can call me once you’ve reached a decision. There’s no need for us to meet tonight.’

Dimitri’s sudden smile transformed his hard-boned face from serious to seriously sexy, and Louise felt a tingling sensation run through her right down to her toes.

‘I disagree,’ he drawled, the gleam of amusement in his eyes warning her that he had seen through her ploy to avoid meeting him. ‘We haven’t seen each other for seven years, and I’m looking forward to catching up. Au revoir, Louise—until tonight,’ he murmured, before he strode out of the gallery, leaving her staring after him thinking that his words had sounded more like a threat than a promise.

It took Louise ten minutes to walk back to her flat after she had finished work. Often in the summer she liked to stroll along by the Seine and browse among the booksellers’ stalls, but this evening she was in a hurry.

As soon as she arrived home she fed Madeleine and called the hospital to check on her mother, explaining to the nurse that she would visit tomorrow. Then she showered, blow-dried her hair and applied make-up in record time, aware that she was due to meet Dimitri in twenty minutes.

At least choosing something to wear was not a problem. Her friend and neighbour Benoit was a fashion designer, who regularly gave her his stunning creations, and there were several dresses in her wardrobe that she’d never had an opportunity to wear before.

One cocktail dress in particular seemed suitable for dinner at an exclusive restaurant. The simple sheath of black silk skimmed her breasts and hips and flared slightly at the hemline, which was decorated with layers of tulle ruffles. It was a striking design, and as with all Benoit’s clothes very feminine and very sexy. Louise almost lost her nerve as she studied her reflection and noted how the sheer material seemed to caress her curves. The black silk felt cool and sensual against her skin, and for the first time in years she felt intensely aware of her body.

She briefly debated whether to change into something less eye-catching, but time was racing—at least that was the excuse she made to herself. The truth was that ever since she had met Dimitri in Athens she’d felt quite unlike her usual sensible self. Every time she thought of him—and he seemed to dominate her thoughts—molten heat pooled low in her pelvis and she felt an ache of sexual longing that she hadn’t experienced since she was nineteen. Perhaps it was because he had been her first lover—her only lover, she amended ruefully. She had dated a few other men since, but none of them had caused her heart to race like Dimitri did.

What was she trying to tell him tonight by wearing this dress? That she was fiercely aware of him, and that she had glimpsed the hungry gleam in his eyes when he had met her at the Louvre? She could not answer herself, or explain the hectic flush on her cheeks. It was easier to turn away from the mirror and slide her feet into the strappy black stiletto sandals that matched the dress. A silver purse and a dove-grey pashmina completed her outfit, and she hurried out of her flat, her heart thudding.

As she stepped out of the lift on the ground floor she cannoned into a man who had just entered the apartment block.

‘Fais attention!’ His frown cleared when he recognised Louise, and he caught hold of her shoulder and studied her intently. ‘Chérie, you look divine in that dress.’

Louise smiled at Benoit Besson. ‘I’m glad you approve—seeing as it’s one of your creations.’

A grin flashed on Benoit’s thin face and he pushed his long black hair out of his eyes. ‘I can see why I am called a genius,’ he drawled, only half-jokingly. ‘Where are you going? Don’t tell me you have a date?’ He looked surprised. ‘It’s about time. You are too beautiful to live your life alone. You need a lover, chérie.’

‘I’ll never need a man,’ Louise said firmly. She had vowed years ago that she would never copy her mother. Tina had always needed a man in her life, and she had lurched from one disastrous affair to the next without ever pausing to consider whether she would be happier without the jerks she hooked up with.

Kostas Kalakos had been better than most, Louise remembered. He had seemed genuinely to care for Tina. And he had been kind to her when she had stayed on Eirenne in the school holidays. But she could not forget that he had left his wife to pursue his affair with her mother—a fact that Dimitri had certainly never forgotten either, she thought heavily.

Benoit gave her a speculative look. ‘So—not a date, but in that dress you can only be meeting a man. I can’t deny I am curious, mon amie’

‘I’m having dinner with a friend I used to know years ago … an acquaintance, really.’ Louise felt herself blush. ‘I must go or I’ll be late.’

‘Have fun.’ Benoit’s smile was decidedly smug. ‘I’m flying to Sydney in the morning, but you can tell me all about this non-date when I come back.’

Her friendship with Benoit went back many years. Benoit’s grandmother had been a close friend of her grand-mère, Céline, and Louise had known him when he was a student—before he had taken the fashion world by storm. He was the closest she had to a brother, and she treated his teasing with affection.

‘There’ll be nothing to tell,’ she promised him, and hurried out before he could ask any more questions.

Dimitri had chosen a seat at the bar at La Marianne, which afforded him a clear view of the door. During the past ten minutes half a dozen blondes, wearing the ubiquitous little black dresses, had entered the restaurant, and all of them had sought to make eye-contact with him—even the ones who were hanging on to the arm of a husband or boyfriend, he noted sardonically. He considered it a matter of luck that he had been blessed with facial features that women found attractive, but cynically he suspected that his huge wealth meant he could have resembled the Hunchback of Notre Dame and still have had females flocking to his bed.

He ordered a drink and glanced towards the door again. This time his attention was riveted by the blonde in a black dress who had just walked in.

Hair the colour of honey was swept into a loose knot on top of her head, and a few stray curls framed a heart-shaped face dominated by eyes that even from a few feet away he could see were sapphire-blue. She looked as though she had been poured into the black silk dress which moulded her hourglass figure as faithfully as a lover’s touch, and her long legs, sheathed in barely-there black silk hose, looked even sexier with the addition of four-inch stiletto heels.

Despite his intention not to allow Louise to affect him, Dimitri felt a sharp tug of desire jack-knife through him. He lifted his glass and drained his whisky sour, but his eyes seemed determined to stray towards her.

Most women would have teamed the striking diamond fleur-de-lis with matching earrings, and perhaps a diamond ring or bracelet, but Louise’s decision to wear only the pendant and no other jewellery gave her an understated elegance. Her dress was almost starkly plain compared to some of the exotic outfits on display in the restaurant, but clearly she understood that the beauty of haute couture was the fact that it allowed a woman to wear the dress rather than the dress wear the woman.

Dimitri recognised the designer motif of two entwined letter Bs on Louise’s purse. Benoit Besson had taken the fashion world by storm after revealing his first collection at Paris Fashion Week two years ago, and had quickly become the darling of Europe’s social elite. But the price of Besson’s clothes reflected his undoubted skill as a designer. Louise’s dress might easily have cost upwards of five or six thousand pounds, yet he knew her job as a museum guide would not pay a high salary.

Dimitri ran his mind over the facts the private investigator had dug up about her. There wasn’t much, and so far no evidence of a rich lover in Louise’s life. She lived alone, worked, as he knew, at the Louvre, and socialised occasionally with colleagues from the museum. But if she was not the mistress of some rich guy how could she afford to wear Benoit Besson designs? And why did she suddenly need money so quickly that she was prepared to sell Eirenne for considerably less than the island was worth? The idea that she was in debt seemed a logical possibility. Her mother’s track record with money was appalling, and it was conceivable that Louise had inherited Tina’s inability to live within her means.

She had hesitated when she had entered the restaurant, but now she looked towards the bar and saw him. Even though Dimitri was a few feet away from her he noticed the sudden flush of colour that highlighted her high cheekbones, and he felt a fierce sense of male satisfaction that she could not hide her awareness of him. The evening promised to be interesting, he mused, feeling suddenly more alive than he had done in months as anticipation made his nerve-endings tingle.

He stood up from the bar stool and walked over to meet her.

‘Louise, you look stunning.’ He bit back the question—How the hell can you afford to wear a dress that probably cost a chunk of your annual salary?

The bar was crowded. Someone knocked into her and Dimitri caught hold of her arm to steady her as she swayed slightly on her high heels.

Her skin felt like satin beneath his fingertips and her perfume, a delicate floral fragrance, teased his senses. Without stopping to question what he was doing, he lifted her hand to his mouth and grazed his lips over her knuckles. He heard her faint gasp and smiled when she blushed. For a moment he was reminded of the innocent girl he had known seven years ago.

But she was no longer a gauche teenager. She was a beautiful woman, and undoubtedly sexually experienced. He pictured her naked in his bed, pictured himself sinking between her thighs …

Their eyes met, held, and he watched her pupils dilate so that they were deep, dark pools. He could almost taste the intense sexual awareness between them.