Kay Thorpe – The Thirty-Day Seduction (страница 8)

“Last night was last night.” Eyes glinting in the sunlight, he indicated the steps. “Shall we go down?”

Conscious that several pairs of eyes were on them, Chelsea took the line of least resistance. At least there would be no more such talk with children in the vicinity. Time to unravel her stomach muscles and get a hold of herself.

A small, wiry figure emerged from the general throng as the two of them reached the bottom of the steps, tearing across to issue a breathless greeting. Dressed in shorts and T-shirt, as were most of the children, black hair cut short to control a riotous curl, he had a positively angelic little face, every feature exquisitely defined.

Not bothering to wait for Nikos to perform formal introductions, Chelsea gave the boy a broad smile. “Hallo, Dimitris, my name is Chelsea.” She held out the small package she had been toting around. “Happy birthday!”

Looking a little nonplussed, the boy waited for his father’s nod before accepting the present, not forgetting to say, “Efcharisto.” He showed the usual childish impatience in tearing off the wrappings, viewing the handsized LCD pinball game enclosed with puzzled eyes.

Forgetting Nikos for the moment, Chelsea squatted at the boy’s side to show him how to use the game, sparking an eager desire to try it for himself. Next moment he was racing off to show the machine to his friends, gathering a little crowd about him, all clamouring for a go.

“Thank you,” said Nikos as Chelsea straightened. “You appear to have a very good idea of what appeals to small boys.”

Big boys too, she thought with irony. The difference being that she wasn’t out to gratify the latter.

“Just a token,” she said. “Makes me feel a bit less of a gatecrasher.”

Nikos gave her a quizzical look. “You were invited.”

“Only because common courtesy made it impossible for you to do anything else.”

“True,” he agreed. “But it was no great hardship. Your presence would enhance any occasion.”

“Such a gentleman!” she muttered, and saw his mouth stretch into a slow smile.

“Not always, ylikia.”

What “ylikia” meant, Chelsea had no idea. Nor did she care to ask. She turned her attention a little desperately to the group of young women seated together around a table in a far corner. “Are they the children’s nannies?”

“Nurses, yes. One of them Dimitris’s.”

“Do you have to leave him often?” she asked. “On business, I mean.”

“No more than I must. A boy needs a father.”

“More than he needs a mother?”

The chiselled features were suddenly austere. “Is this another attempt to tell me what I should do?”

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