The Theotokis Inheritance. Susanne James
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books, things that would easily fit into her car to take away. Arrangements could be made for anything else she might fancy to be delivered to her place later. But apparently she didn’t wish for anything at all except those ornaments, and she’d made it clear where her instincts lay—to leave it all in situ.
Helena was just lying on the bed reading her book and sipping the last of her coffee when her mobile rang. As she answered it, Simon Harcourt’s voice met her ears and she frowned slightly. ‘Oh—hello, Simon,’ she began, then listened for several minutes while he explained the reason for his call.
Interrupting at last, Helena said, ‘Actually, Simon, I won’t be available to come to the conference with you that weekend because… I’m afraid I shall actually be giving you my notice on Monday,’ and before he could say anything, she went on quickly, ‘I’ve learned that I’ve just inherited a property in the country, and it’s not a straightforward matter, so I need to leave London almost at once.’ She swallowed, hard. Well, she’d burned her boats as far as Simon was concerned. Where she stood with Oscar was another matter!
Helena slipped into her simple knee-length three-quarter-sleeve aubergine dress—which she’d decided at the last moment to bring with her—and glanced at herself in the mirror. The garment was still a favourite item in her wardrobe, and whenever she wore it she always made a point of sweeping her hair up on top, which she felt suited the low boat-shaped neckline. Her only make-up was her light foundation and a slick of eyeshadow. Her long pearl-quartz earrings completed the picture.
As the ancient clock on the landing chimed eight, she made her way downstairs. Oscar was standing at the bar, talking to Adam, and both men looked up as she approached, Oscar with a heightening of his pulse, which he tried to ignore.
As Helena approached, she smiled quickly, noting Oscar’s undeniably sexy appearance. He was dressed in light trousers and designer jacket and open-neck shirt; his hair had been newly washed, the dark, determined jaw obviously clean-shaven. A perfect model for any advertisement, she thought instinctively.
Immediately, Adam came from behind the bar, two large menus in his hands, and beckoned the two to follow him, leading them over to a table in the far corner of the restaurant.
Holding Helena’s chair out for her, he said, ‘Tonight’s special dish is seared sea bass—caught this morning,’ he added proudly. Then he took the just-opened bottle of wine from the ice bucket on the table and filled their glasses. ‘I’ll be back for your order as soon as you’ve decided,’ he said.
‘He seems to run a very tight ship here,’ Oscar commented, glancing at the man’s retreating figure. ‘By the way, I hope you approve of this… of my choice,’ he said, picking up his glass.
How could Helena not approve? It was vintage champagne. She put the glass to her lips and sipped at the frothy bubbles, looking across at him steadily. ‘Is this by way of a celebration?’ she asked enigmatically.
Oscar raised a brow. ‘If you like,’ he said casually. Well, they had just been left a fortune. ‘I hope you don’t have a problem with champagne?’
Helena smiled briefly. ‘I’ve only had it twice before—at weddings,’ she said. ‘And while I’m no connoisseur, I always found it a very… special… drink.’ She paused. ‘Thank you,’ she added.
A muscle pounded in Oscar’s jaw as he gazed across at her. She looked so unutterably lovely he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Her hair was shining, its thick bands glinting like gold in the flickering candlelight, but she did look pale, and he said briefly, ‘Are you feeling OK now… has your headache really gone?’
‘Absolutely,’ Helena said lightly. ‘And, as a matter of fact, I’m feeling quite hungry,’ she added. She picked up her menu, hoping he didn’t notice it trembling slightly between her fingers. In a thousand lifetimes could she ever have imagined she’d be so close to Oscar again? To breathe the same air that he was breathing? To watch that firm mouth with the immaculate teeth, white against his suntan? He wasn’t merely good-looking, not merely handsome; he had that stunning, sultry, Mediterranean charisma that turned every gullible female heart to jelly.
As they gave Adam their order and waited for their meal to arrive, Oscar said, ‘I’ve had time to think things over this afternoon and I can’t help wondering if it’s the right thing to be leaving the house unoccupied for so long.’ He drank from his glass. ‘There’s a big problem with squatters taking over empty premises—certainly in London at the moment—and I understand that once they’re in, it’s difficult to get rid of them.’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘Of course, I know that Benjamin and Louise will always be close at hand, but that wouldn’t stop determined individuals from gaining entry on a dark night—and if that did happen it would certainly add to our problems.’ He paused. ‘Maybe we should consider a short-term let,’ he added, ‘as a safety measure.’
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