What The Greek's Wife Needs - Dani Collins Page 0,48
touched Illi’s fine hair on his way. As he straightened to stand beside the bed, he spoke in a voice that was more threat or command than the imparting of information.
“The nanny interviews start today.”
Interlude of flirtation aside, Tanja climbed aboard the helicopter with reservations.
The romantic in her wanted to believe she was embarking on a chance to see if her marriage could work. She’d never been someone who did anything by half measures so she instinctually wanted to give their union a real chance, but beneath Leon’s hot kiss and patience while she ran around looking for that one worn T-shirt she didn’t need but didn’t want to lose, she felt the inner walls he was erecting against her.
It hurt and made for a disheartening start to a difficult flight. Leon sat as copilot and Illi cried the whole way. Tanja was frazzled by the time they landed on Leon’s rooftop penthouse in Athens. Leon’s PA, Demitri, met them and showed Tanja to a spare bedroom that had quickly been converted into a nursery for Illi.
“Decorators will arrive today to take measurements and discuss color schemes, but I hope it suffices for the moment?” Demitri asked anxiously.
Illi had never had a real crib or change table, let alone a surplus of supplies, clothes and toys.
“It’s perfect,” Tanja assured him, relieved to have somewhere to safely put Illi down since she had worn herself out on the flight and her eyelids were already drooping.
Tanja tucked her in and carried the baby monitor as she explored the airy living space.
Much like the yacht, everything was modern and bright and reflective of understated yet undeniable luxury. Beyond the wall of windows, Leon was sitting down with Georgiou at the courtyard dining table next to the infinity pool. Was that the Acropolis in the distance? It was so close it looked like she could swim to the edge of the water and reach out to touch it.
A middle-aged woman in the kitchen was making coffee and preparing platters filled with dips and bread sticks, olives and cheese, stuffed vine leaves and grilled octopus. She introduced herself as the housekeeper and chef, Valerie.
Huh. No wonder Leon had never felt a need for his wife to join him.
“I was hoping for a drink of water,” Tanja said, glancing around for a glass.
“Sparkling or still?”
“Tap water is fine.”
“I have this cucumber water to go with the meze?” Valerie brought a jug from the refrigerator.
“Um, sure. Thank you.”
It was the same over-the-top level of service Tanja had experienced on the yacht, and it began to hit her that the yacht was not an exception. This was how Leon lived. He had lived like this all his life. It was disconcerting, making her feel as though she’d been transported into a movie or some other surreal world.
She would have loved a moment to catch her breath and process it, but she only had time to grab a bite with the men before a parade of appointments tied her up.
Her stylist from the yacht arrived and brought her into the other spare bedroom, now filled with racks of clothing. “We don’t have to go through all of this right now, but I wanted to pick out a few key pieces so I can alter them if they need it.”
Tanja was measured and pinned and soon turned out in a blue-and-white-striped sundress that she adored on sight—it buttoned down the front and had big patch pockets. But she had no time to browse the rest of the clothes. The health nurse arrived.
Tanja assured the woman she was recovering nicely but was given iron pills, and the chef was instructed on her nutritional needs.
The nurse left and Tanja was promptly served a protein smoothie and dense cookies filled with dates and nuts. Then the potential nanny arrived. Leon surprised her by joining her. He asked questions Tanja wouldn’t have thought to ask, like how flexible the young woman was to travel and, “Can you start tonight?”
“I brought a bag in case you needed me right now,” Britta said with a warm smile.
“Excellent.” Leon looked to Tanja as she snapped a glare at him. “What? You’ll be tied up getting ready.”
“For what?” she asked with beleaguered panic.
“Dinner with my mother.”
“That’s tonight? I thought—” She didn’t know what she had thought. She sagged into the sofa, stricken at how quickly things were spinning beyond her control.
“Will you take these to the kitchen, please?” Leon nodded at the empty dishes, dismissing the nanny. “Don’t