An Offer She Can't Refuse. Emma Darcy
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felt the nape of her neck prickling at the sound of the man’s voice coming from the table next to theirs. The deep mellifluous tone was an electric reminder of another voice that had seduced her into believing all the sweet things it had said to her, believing they had meant she was more special than any other woman in the world.
It couldn’t be Ari, could it?
She was torn by the temptation to look.
Which was utterly, utterly stupid, letting thoughts of him take over her mind when she should be enjoying this wonderfully decadent afternoon tea.
Ari Zavros was out of her life. Well and truly out of it. Six years ago he’d made the parting from her absolutely decisive, no coming back to Australia, no interest in some future contact. She had been relegated to a fond memory, and she certainly didn’t want the fond memory revived here and now, if by some rotten coincidence it was Ari sitting behind her.
It wouldn’t be him, anyway.
The odds against it were astronomical.
All the same, it was better not to look, better to keep her back turned to the man behind her. If it was Ari, if he caught her looking and recognised her … it was a stomach-curdling thought. No way was she prepared for a face-to-face meeting with him, especially not with her mother and Theo looking on, becoming involved.
This couldn’t happen.
It wouldn’t happen.
Her imagination was making mountains out of no more than a tone of voice. Ridiculous! The man was with a woman. She’d heard the plummy English voice complaining about Theo’s presence—a really petty complaint because Theo was always well-behaved. She shouldn’t waste any attention on them. Her mind fiercely dictated ignoring the couple and concentrating on the pleasure of being here.
She leaned forward, picked up her cup and sipped the wonderfully fragrant Jasmin Pearls. They had already eaten a marvellous slice of Beef Wellington served warm with a beetroot puree. On their table now was a stand shaped like the Burj, its four tiers presenting a yummy selection of food on colourful glass plates.
At the top were small sandwiches made with different types of bread—egg, smoked salmon, cream cheese with sun-dried tomatoes, cucumber and cream cheese. Other tiers offered seafood vol-au-vents with prawns, choux pastry chicken with seeded mustard, a beef sandwich, and basil, tomato and bocconcini cheese on squid ink bread. It was impossible to eat everything. Predictably, Theo zeroed in on the chicken, her mother anything with cheese, and the seafood she loved was all hers.
A waiter came around with a tray offering replenishments but they shook their heads, knowing there was so much more to taste—fruit cake, scones with and without raisins and an assortment of spreads; strawberry and rose petal jam, clotted cream, a strawberry mousse and tangy passionfruit.
Tina refused to let the reminder of Ari Zavros ruin her appetite. There wasn’t much conversation going on at the table behind her anyway. Mostly it was the woman talking, carrying on in a snobby way, comparing this afternoon tea to others she’d had in famous hotels. Only the occasional murmur of reply came from the man.
‘I’m so glad we stopped in Dubai,’ her mother remarked, gazing at the view. ‘There’s so much amazing, creative architecture in this city. That hotel shaped like a wave just below us, the stunning buildings we passed on the way here. And to think it’s all happened in the space of what … thirty years?’
‘Something like that,’ Tina murmured.
‘It shows what can be done in these modern times.’
‘With the money to do it,’ Tina dryly reminded her.
‘Well, at least they have the money. They’re not bankrupting the country like the aristocrats did in Europe for their grand palaces in the old days. And all this has to be a drawcard for tourists, bringing money into the country.’
‘True.’ Tina smiled. ‘I’m glad we came here, too. It certainly is amazing.’
Her mother leaned forward and whispered, ‘Seated at the next table is an incredibly handsome man. I think he must be a movie star. Take a look, Tina, and see if you recognise him.’
Her stomach instantly cramped. Ari Zavros was an incredibly handsome man. Her mother nodded encouragingly, expecting her to glance around. Hadn’t she already decided it couldn’t—wouldn’t—be him? One quick look would clear this silly fear. Just do it. Get it over with.
One quick look …
The shock of seeing the man she’d never expected to see again hit her so hard she barely found wits enough to give her mother a reply.
‘I’ve never seen him in a movie.’
And thank God the turning of her head towards him hadn’t caught his attention!
Ari!—still a beautiful lion of a man with his thick mane of wavy honey-brown hair streaked through with golden strands, silky smooth olive skin, his strongly masculine face softened by a beautifully sculptured full-lipped mouth, and made compelling by thickly lashed amber eyes—eyes that Theo had inherited, and thank God her mother hadn’t noticed that likeness!
‘Well, he must be someone,’ her mother said in bemusement. ‘One of the beautiful people.’
‘Don’t keep staring at him, Mama,’ Tina hissed, everything within her recoiling from any connection with him.
Her mother was totally unabashed. ‘I’m just returning the curiosity. He keeps looking at us.’
Why??? screamed through Tina’s mind.
Panicky thoughts followed.
Had the Australian accent reminded him of the three months he’d spent there?
He could not have identified her, not from a back view. Her hair had been long and curly when he’d known her.
Did he see a similarity to himself in Theo?
But surely he wouldn’t be making a blood connection to himself personally, unless he was in the habit of leaving love-children around the world.
Tina pulled herself up on that dark thought. He had used condoms with her. It was unlikely he would think his safe sex had ever been unsafe. Whatever had drawn his interest … it presented a very real problem to her.
Since he and his companion had arrived late at this afternoon tea, it was almost inevitable that she and Theo and her mother would leave before them and they would have to pass his table on their way out. If he looked straight at her, face-to-face.
He might not remember her. It had been six years ago. She looked different with her hair short. And he’d surely had many women pass through his life in the meantime. But if he did recognise her and stopped her from making a quick escape, forcing a re-acquaintance, introductions … her mind reeled away from all the painful complications that might follow.
She did not want Ari Zavros directly touching her life again. That decision had been made before her pregnancy had to be revealed to her parents. It would have been unbearable to have him questioning an unwelcome paternity or sharing responsibility for Theo on some dutiful basis—constantly in and out of her life, always making her feel bad for having loved him so blindly.
It had been a wretched business, standing firm against her father’s questioning, refusing to track down a man who didn’t want her any more, insisting that her child would be better off without any interference from him. Whether that decision had been right or wrong she had never regretted it.
Even recently when Theo had asked why he didn’t have a father like his kindergarten friends, she had felt no guilt at telling him that some children only had mothers and that was the way it was for them. She was convinced that Ari could only be a horribly disruptive influence in their lives if, given the chance, he decided to be in them at all.
She didn’t want to give him the chance.
It