Gorgeous Greeks: Seductive Secrets

She sidestepped Jace to move behind her desk, where she felt safer. Slipping off her coat, she felt a flicker of gratitude that she was wearing one of her smarter outfits: a cream silk blouse and a cherry-red pencil skirt, with nails freshly manicured to match. Her hair was pulled up in a sleek twist, and her appearance felt like both her armour and her ammunition. She used it; she hid behind it.

‘A party, of course.’ He smiled, but Eleanor thought she saw a shadow of something in his eyes—uncertainty? Fear? This was foreign territory for both of them. He’d shed his cashmere trench coat and wore a charcoal-grey suit that matched his eyes perfectly. His silver-grey silk tie emphasised their metallic glints, and Eleanor had trouble tearing her gaze away from him.

‘A party?’ she repeated, looking down to reshuffle a few random papers on her desk. ‘I hardly think I’m an appropriate candidate for—’

‘You’re the best.’

She looked up. ‘I’m not that good.’

Jace took a step closer, one finger to his lips. ‘Shh. Don’t let Lily hear you.’ He smiled, teasingly, and Eleanor felt those wretched nerves flutter through her again, as flighty and feather-brained as the pigeons crowding Central Park, fighting over a few paltry crumbs. ‘She’s quite a dragon,’ Jace continued. ‘She was business partners with your mother?’ At Eleanor’s sharp intake of breath he looked up and smiled. ‘We had a little chat while I was waiting for you.’

‘I really think it’s better, Jace, if someone else organises this party. Anyway, I didn’t think you were even coming back to New York.’

‘This party’s not in New York.’

Eleanor’s breath came out in a rush. ‘Then I’m certainly not the right person to plan it. Everything I’ve done is New-York-based—’

‘You organised a birthday party in the Hamptons.’

‘Still city-based,’ Eleanor countered firmly. ‘The client lived year round in Manhattan. Anyway, it’s not worth arguing about. I don’t care if your party is in Times Square, I don’t want to organise it.’ Brave words. Brave sentiments. She wished she sounded stronger. Felt surer. In truth she felt horribly uncertain. Half of her wanted to leap at the chance of spending more time with Jace; half of her wanted to run away.

The contradictory nature of her own emotions was ridiculous. And annoying.

‘Actually,’ Jace said, smiling faintly as he watched her, ‘the party is in Greece. It’s my father’s seventieth birthday party.’

‘What?’ The word was more of a squawk. Jace’s smile deepened so Eleanor saw his dimple. She wished she didn’t. That dimple made him look friendly, approachable. Desirable.

‘Have you ever been to Greece?’ he asked as he started to stroll round her office, gazing at the rather pedestrian artwork on her walls.

‘No,’ she replied flatly. ‘In fact, I’ve tried to avoid the whole country.’

‘I think you would enjoy it. It’s beautiful this time of year. Not too hot.’

‘I’d hardly be relaxing,’ Eleanor countered, then wished she hadn’t. She didn’t even want to discuss this. She was not going to Greece.

‘Well, I don’t want to run you ragged like last time,’ Jace replied. ‘The party’s not for nearly a month.’

‘Doesn’t matter. I can’t organise a party like that from here, and I can hardly go to Greece for a month.’

Jace stopped strolling and turned around to face her. He was smiling, but his face still looked grave. ‘Can’t you?’ he asked softly.

Suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed, a different kind of tension tautening the air between them. Suddenly Jace seemed very close, even though he hadn’t moved. Eleanor drew in a deep, shuddery breath.

‘Don’t, Jace.’

‘Don’t?’ he repeated, the word a question, and Eleanor shook her head. She didn’t want to explain. She didn’t even know what to explain. She just knew that seeing him again was both a joy and agony, the emotions tangled so closely that she could not separate one from the other, or from herself. She wished he hadn’t come, yet she’d been waiting for him to come.

He must have sensed something of her turmoil, for he took a step closer and said with a little smile, ‘A couple of weeks in Greece. Can’t you think of worse things?’

A couple of weeks in Greece with you, Eleanor amended silently. ‘I can’t leave my other clients for that long,’ she began, trying to stay professional.

‘Lily said someone else could take them. Laura or someone?’

Laura. Of course. She’d snagged her clients last time. Eleanor sagged into her chair as she felt the first flickers of defeat. ‘You’ve already spoken to Lily,’ she stated flatly and Jace shrugged.

‘How could I not?’

She looked up, her eyes wide and meeting his own directly, daring him to be honest. ‘Why me?’

‘Why not you?’ Jace countered quietly.

Eleanor swallowed, her gaze sliding away. ‘You know why.’

Jace was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was light. ‘I don’t know any other event planners, and I think you’re the best for the job.’

He didn’t want to talk about the past. Fine, she didn’t either, so she’d stick with the present. There was enough trouble with that. ‘Me? How about someone Greek for starters?’ Eleanor drew in a breath, ready to launch into a tirade of how she couldn’t go with Jace, she couldn’t plan his party. She didn’t want to. She was afraid to. She wouldn’t.

‘Actually, Eleanor, you’d be doing me a favour,’ Jace cut her off, his voice quiet and a little sad. Eleanor closed her mouth with a surprised snap. ‘My relationship with my father has never been—what it could be. What it should be.’ He glanced away, his expression turning distant, shuttered. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been a disappointment to my father, in many ways,’ he confessed in a low voice. ‘This party could help in healing our rift.’

This was more than Jace had ever shared with her before. About his life. About himself. She felt as if she’d been given a tiny glimpse into his mind, his heart, and it left her aching and curious and wanting to know more.

She cleared her throat, striving to keep her tone professional. ‘I still don’t know if I’m the right person for this, Jace… considering.’ It occurred to her that perhaps he’d never told his family about her. Perhaps he’d walked right back into life in Greece without a single backward glance or thought at all. Strange—and stupid—that it hurt to think that, even now.

‘You’d be helping me out,’ Jace told her. ‘Although I recognise that might not be a point in my favour.’

Eleanor flushed. ‘I don’t have some kind of—vendetta,’ she told him. ‘Really, Jace, the past is forgotten.’ It was a lie, but she said it anyway.

‘Do you really think so?’ Jace queried softly. ‘I know I can’t forget that easily.’

Eleanor’s flush deepened. She didn’t know what Jace was talking about, but she knew there were plenty of things she couldn’t forget. Like the first time he’d kissed her, after she’d given him a chocolate cupcake she’d baked, so that she couldn’t eat chocolate even now without thinking of that wonderful, breathless moment. Like how wonderful it had been to lie in his arms, the sun bathing them in gold. How he was the only person who had ever made her cry with joy.

‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly, yet as the words came out of her mouth she realised she already knew, she’d known from the moment she’d walked in and seen Jace in her office. She might have offered a few paltry protests for form’s sake, but in her heart she’d already agreed to go to Greece.

The question she had no intention of answering or even asking herself was why. Was it simply pressure from work—Lily would undoubtedly insist she go—or a deeper, more dangerous reason? A reason that had nothing to do with business and all to do with pleasure?

With Jace.

‘Two weeks,’ Jace told her, his tone turning brisk and reasonable. ‘Not that long, but long enough to plan a small family party. And the weather will be fabulous. I’m sure you could use a break.’

Eleanor nodded jerkily and pulled a fresh pad of paper towards her. ‘Where exactly is this party going to be?’

She saw triumph gleam in Jace’s eyes, turning them silver, and his mouth curled upwards in a smile of victory. ‘At my villa. I own a small island in the Cyclades.’

Her head jerked up. ‘Your private island?’

‘It’s very small.’

‘Sure it is,’ Eleanor muttered, and uselessly scribbled ‘island’ on her notepad. She could hardly believe she was agreeing to this so readily, so easily, and yet she knew how little choice she really had. If Lily wanted Jace’s business, and Jace wanted her to plan the party, she was left with very few choices.

But why does he want me to plan the party? And why do I want to go?

Eleanor forced the questions aside and turned to smile with sunny professionalism at Jace. ‘Can you give me a few details?’

‘I don’t think that’s necessary,’ Jace replied easily. He rose from his chair, and after a second’s hesitation Eleanor rose as well. ‘I’m returning to Greece on Friday, and I’d like you to come with me. That should give you enough time to wrap up things here for a bit, and it will also leave enough time on the other end to plan the party.’

‘Right,’ she replied, her mind spinning. Friday. Greece. Jace.

‘If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me,’ Jace continued, matching her best, brisk and professional tone. ‘Otherwise, I’ll see you Friday morning. I’ll send a car to pick you up at your apartment at nine o’clock?’

Eleanor nodded her acceptance, and, with an answering nod, Jace picked up his coat and was gone.

Eleanor sank back into her chair just as Lily poked her head round the door.

‘Well?’

‘I guess I’m going to Greece.’

‘Good.’ Lily nodded with smug satisfaction. ‘I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.’ She paused, eyes narrowing. ‘You did seem a little reluctant to work with Zervas before, Eleanor, which surprised me. I trust you’ve got over it?’

Eleanor nodded wearily, too overwhelmed to offer a defence. ‘It’s fine,’ she said, and almost believed it.

The days between Monday and Friday flew by and crept along at the same time. Eleanor immersed herself in work, transferring clients, wrapping up details, and yet it still left her with far too much to think about. She alternated between wondering if she was making the biggest—or perhaps the second biggest—mistake of her life, and convincing herself that this was nothing more than a business trip. It wasn’t like the biggest mistake she’d made, which had been to fall in love with Jace Zervas in the first place.

She had no intention of doing that again.

Neither her mother nor Allie were convinced.

‘I just don’t see why you’re going,’ Allie said for the third time as they shared a Chinese takeaway in her apartment on Wednesday night. ‘Or, more importantly, why he’s taking you.’ She lowered her chopsticks to regard Eleanor severely. ‘Do you think he’s interested in you again?’

‘No,’ Eleanor said firmly. ‘It’s nothing like that.’

‘How can you be so sure? He kissed you, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, but…’ She shook her head, realising she couldn’t answer the question. She didn’t know why Jace had kissed her. She had no idea why he wanted her to go to Greece. ‘We’re different people,’ she stated, rather uselessly, for Allie just narrowed her eyes.

‘Not that different. I just don’t want this jerk to hurt you again, Eleanor. That’s all.’

‘He’s not a jerk,’ Eleanor whispered. She felt herself flush as Allie stared at her in disbelief. ‘At least, not as much of one as I once thought,’ she amended, and Allie snorted.

‘Well, that’s reassuring.’

‘I suppose I’m realising that I never really knew him,’ Eleanor explained slowly. ‘I know we were supposedly infatuated with one another, but Jace never really talked about himself. I only realised that later—when I saw him again, and he said things.’ She paused, helpless to explain. ‘I never knew he had five sisters. Or he didn’t get along with his father. Or—’

‘Oh, help,’ Allie cut her off, her eyes widening in horror. ‘You’re in love with him already, aren’t you?’

‘No!’ The word was a yelp. Eleanor scrambled off the sofa and stood there, chest heaving in denial. ‘No,’ she said more calmly. ‘Of course not. But I suppose seeing him again—for real—is important to me. Necessary. I need the closure.’

‘But didn’t you get that when he apologised?’

She took a breath and let it out slowly. ‘Not really. I need to know that I can’t fall in love with him again. That there really is nothing between us, and that we’re just too different. Too changed.’ She sighed, the truth coming to her as she spoke it. ‘Then I’ll finally be able to move on.’ Why did that idea make her feel sad rather than hopeful? Was she still fooling herself?

‘Maybe,’ Allie allowed, her voice laden with doubt. ‘What if you find out you can fall in love with him, Eleanor? What if you do?’

That was another question Eleanor couldn’t answer, and didn’t even dare ask.

Her mother was just as doubtful of the wisdom of Eleanor’s decision, but they didn’t discuss love or anything close to it. They never had.

‘I wouldn’t get within a hundred feet of that man,’ Heather said darkly when Eleanor called her to tell her she’d be out of town, ‘but if it really is just business…’

‘Of course it is.’ She sounded far more certain than she felt.

‘I’m sure you know what you’re doing,’ Heather said briskly. ‘And in any case, it’s wonderful that Lily thinks so highly of you.’

Eleanor didn’t want to argue that it was actually Jace—and his money—that Lily thought highly of. She was too tired and she had too much to do to argue the semantics. ‘I’ll talk to you when I get back,’ she said, and after exchanging a few more pleasantries she hung up the phone.

Surveying the mess of her bedroom, the contents of her wardrobe spilled across her bed, she wondered just what to pack—and what to wear when she saw Jace tomorrow.

She settled on a pair of tailored tan trousers and a petal-pink cashmere sweater set that would have made her feel like a granny save for its hugging fit. Paired with a pair of kitten-heeled open-toed sandals, they made her feel professional and just a little bit sexy, which gave her confidence a needed boost as she waited in her building’s lobby for the car Jace had sent.

The limo came promptly at nine. As the driver opened the door and Eleanor slid into the car’s luxurious interior, Eleanor felt a flicker of disappointment that it was empty. Jace wasn’t there.

‘Mr Zervas will meet you at the airport,’ the driver told her as he pulled away from the kerb. Eleanor did not reply, although she wondered what kept Jace in the city so that he couldn’t share the journey to the airport with her. Not, she told herself sternly, that it mattered. Determined to focus on business—which was what this whole trip was—she reached for a file folder and began jotting down preliminary ideas for the party.

This activity kept her busy all the way to the airport, mainly because she wanted it to. She didn’t want or need time to think, to question just why the hell she’d agreed to come to Greece with Jace, on the pretext of some party. She’d told her mother it was business; she’d told Allie more of the truth—that she needed closure. Yet the nerves exploding inside her, her clammy hands and growing panic all made Eleanor realise that there might be more to it than that. A lot more.

She clamped down on the train of thought before it could go anywhere, and as they arrived at the terminal she gratefully slid out of the car as the driver opened the door.

‘Hello, Eleanor.’

Nearly yelping in surprise, Eleanor looked up to see Jace smiling at her. He was dressed, as she’d nearly always seen him dressed, for business, and he looked, as he always did, magnificent. Eleanor swallowed rather dryly.

‘I thought you’d be late,’ she said, trying not to sound flustered. ‘Since you didn’t come in the limo—’

‘I didn’t have time to drive to your apartment in Chelsea,’ Jace explained, ‘so I grabbed a cab. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you?’

How could a limo to her front door inconvenience her? Eleanor wondered. Or was Jace obliquely referring to the fact that she’d been disappointed? How did he kno-wl ‘No, of course not,’ she said briskly, and Jace touched her elbow to guide her inside.

They bypassed the endless queues at the ticket counters for a discreet security checkpoint for private airline passengers.

‘We’re travelling on your private jet?’ Eleanor practically squeaked when she realised this. ‘To your private island?’

‘I like my privacy.’ Jace smiled, a flash of white. ‘And I confess I find it more convenient. No need to book tickets or schedule flights, or be at the mercy of an airline and its asinine whims.’

The security guard waved them through, and easily, naturally, Jace put his arm around Eleanor’s shoulders as he shepherded her towards the boarding area. ‘Come.’

Moments later they were boarding a small, sleek, and utterly luxurious aeroplane. Eleanor took in the leather sofas and teakwood coffee tables with a sense of disbelief. She’d experienced her fair share of first class service as an event planner, yet in those cases she was arranging the luxury for her clients; she was the service. Here she was the one being served, and it felt amazing.

‘Stretch out,’ Jace said with a smile as she sat on one of the sofas. ‘Enjoy yourself.’

Eleanor smiled a bit uncertainly. She was torn between enjoying herself—which this jet cried out for her to do—and keeping things businesslike. Professional. Safe.

‘There will be plenty of time to plan the party later,’ Jace told her with a little smile, making Eleanor wonder yet again how he knew her so well.

Because, she reminded herself as reached for the seat buckle, he didn’t know her well. At all. He hadn’t known her well enough ten years ago to trust her with the truth, and he certainly didn’t know her now.

Moodily she stared out of the window as the plane began to taxi down the runway. Within minutes they were lifting off, leaving the dank grey March skies for the vast blue above.

One of Jace’s staff came to offer drinks, and Eleanor accepted a glass of orange juice. She took a sip and set it down, too restless and uneasy to drink more. She fidgeted with the clasp on her seat belt, crossed and recrossed her legs, and stared blindly out at the endless blue sky.

‘You can undo your seat belt now if you like,’ Jace said, and Eleanor jerked her head around. He sat stretched out on the sofa opposite her.

‘Oh, yes,’ she mumbled, flicking again at the clasp. ‘All right.’ She undid the belt and stretched her legs out, feeling as if she were participating in a charade. She didn’t feel remotely relaxed, and she doubted she was giving a good impression of it either.

‘Why are you so tense, Eleanor?’ Jace asked. ‘You look drawn tighter than a bow.’

‘I feel tense,’ Eleanor admitted. ‘And why shouldn’t I be?’ she added with a note of challenge. ‘I don’t even know why I’m here.’

Something dark—a shadow of pain, or perhaps even uncertainty—flickered in Jace’s eyes. ‘To plan my father’s birthday party.’

‘I know, but—’ Eleanor let out a long, exasperated breath. ‘I don’t understand why you chose me to plan this party. It makes no sense. Someone local, with Greek contacts, would have been—’

‘I didn’t want someone local,’ Jace cut across her quietly. ‘Even if it made sense.’

His words sounded like a confession, and they created a sudden awareness in the air; it crackled like a current between them. ‘Well, you should have,’ Eleanor replied robustly in a desperate bid to ignore the current that practically pulled her out of her seat towards Jace.

Could she ever resist him?

‘I didn’t want someone local,’ Jace repeated softly. ‘I wanted you.’

Eleanor felt as if all the breath had been robbed from her body; her mind spun emptily and her chest hurt. She stared at Jace, pulled by the magnetic silver of his eyes, the faint smile curling his mouth—how she remembered that mouth, how it felt, how it tasted—

Don’t. Don’t remember, don’t want—

Somehow she managed to draw a breath in, and the desperate dizziness receded. She reached for her orange juice and took a much-needed sip. ‘Don’t, Jace.’

‘And,’ Jace continued, leaning forward, ‘you want me.’

‘What?’ The word was a yelp, a squeal, and it didn’t hold the disdain Eleanor wanted it to, nor even the outrage. She sounded like a kicked puppy. She drew herself up, replacing her juice on the table with a decisive clink. ‘Don’t do this, Jace.’

‘I didn’t want to,’ Jace replied. His voice was low even though his smile remained wry, light. ‘Why do you think you didn’t hear from me for three months? I’ve been trying to forget you, Eleanor, and the damnable truth is I can’t.’

He almost sounded annoyed, and that made Eleanor smile faintly. She knew just how he felt. Then reality came crashing in. ‘Is that why you hired me, Jace? To—to—have some kind of—’ She sputtered uselessly, unable to say the word. Affair.

Meaningless. Sordid.

What else could he possibly want?

‘I’m talking about more than just physical attraction,’ Jace said, his voice soft and yet steely, and Eleanor stiffened.

What could he possibly mean? And why did his words terrify her so much? She couldn’t untangle the sudden fierce emotion within her: surprise, alarm, fear, hope.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked. She tried to sound dismissive but came off as demanding instead. She wanted to know, yet she was still afraid to hear his answer.

Jace didn’t reply for a long moment. He looked pensive, guarded, as if he were hiding his heart as much as she was. ‘I’m not sure.’

Eleanor sank back against the soft leather cushions. ‘Okay.’

‘I don’t know what can be between us,’ Jace continued. His tone was matter-of-fact, almost flat, yet his words raced right to Eleanor’s nerve endings and made her whole self tingle with both longing and fear. ‘All I know is I haven’t been able to put you from my mind these last three months.’ He turned back to her, his expression hard and determined. ‘I said goodbye to you in New York, Eleanor, and I meant it. I wanted to walk away. God knows it’s easier.’

Eleanor couldn’t speak. Her throat was too tight, so she just nodded—jerkily—instead. It was easier. Or at least it was supposed to be.

‘But it hasn’t been easier,’ Jace continued, his voice roughening with emotion. ‘It’s been hell. And so I decided to invite you to Greece—and forget the party, frankly—because I want to figure out what this is between us, and the only way I know of doing that is seeing you. Being with you. Knowing you, this new you, and you knowing me. And whatever this is, maybe it will go somewhere, and maybe it won’t.’ He let out a short, sharp laugh that ended on a ragged sigh. ‘That’s quite an appealing proposition, isn’t it?’ He shook his head and glanced away, rubbing his jaw with one hand. ‘I must be crazy.’

Eleanor blinked and swallowed, trying to ease the tightness in her throat. She’d expected Jace to offer her some kind of smooth suggestion of seduction; if she was honest, yes, she’d expected it from the beginning, no matter what she’d managed to convince herself about this trip being business.

But this? This was real. Honesty. Vulnerability. It sent her spinning into a void of unknowing, uncertainty, because she couldn’t scoff or sneer or pretend. Jace had been honest, and he deserved an honest answer. ‘No,’ she finally managed, her voice scratchy, ‘you’re not.’ Jace turned to look at her sharply, and Eleanor smiled weakly. ‘Crazy, that is.’

A corner of his mouth quirked up, although his gaze remained intently, intensely fastened on hers, filled with a wary hope she both felt and understood. ‘I’m not?’

She shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to say anything; she didn’t even know what she would say, or what she felt. Like Jace, she knew there was still something between them. She just didn’t know what it was. A remnant of their youthful infatuation? Or something new? And if it was something new, it was far too tender and fragile to test it, to trust it.