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Menka was short and nearly as round as she was tall. Her long hair, more silver than black, pulled back from her face in a fat bun. Trish guessed her to be somewhere in her late seventies.
Trish offered her a reassuring smile. She’d always had a soft spot in her heart for older people and Menka clearly went out of her way to make her customers comfortable. Though the woman’s English was far from flawless, she was easily understood. In fact, when Trish had first arrived, they’d spent several minutes bonding over discussions of Miami, where Menka had relatives.
“I like the food very much.” To illustrate the point and further reassure the woman, Trish took a sip of wine and popped a piece of feta into her mouth.
She must have been convincing because Menka patted her on the shoulder and moved on to the next table.
Glancing around the café, now half-filled with diners, Trish was suddenly happy that Catomeris had chosen this place to meet instead of one of the upscale restaurants or European bistros surrounding it.
The small, family-owned taverna had a warm, homey feel that had instantly put her at ease. Intricately tatted lace topped the oilcloth covering the tables, and the lamps scattered throughout the dining area gave the café’s interior a golden glow. It was almost like meeting in a favorite friend’s living room.
The bells heralding another new customer pulled Trish from her reverie. She shifted her gaze to the doorway just in time to see Menka wrap her arms around a broad-shouldered man.
With his dark curly hair, aquiline nose and classic cheekbones, the man standing just inside the doorway could have posed for the Greek statue on the cover of the travel guide nestled in Trish’s purse. Not only that, but he was in the age range of the man Trish had come to meet.
Trish straightened in her seat, her senses on high alert. Could this be Theo Catomeris?
He glanced around the room. When he saw Trish, she offered him a smile. Instead of returning the friendly gesture, he turned and spoke to the proprietress again. Menka shook her head and pointed to Trish, obviously reiterating that she was the only American in the room, or perhaps the only one waiting for someone.
As he started across the taverna, Trish took the opportunity to study him. Like her, he was dressed for business. Anticipation quickened Trish’s pulse. Since starting in the cruise industry fifteen years ago, she has discovered her ability to exhibit a cool confidence under pressure had served her well. After becoming her own boss five years ago, she’d been successful in contracting with most major cruise lines to provide excursion services to their guests.
Not to say it hadn’t been challenging. Every day other companies sprang up promising to do what she did…only better, faster, cheaper. In the highly competitive travel industry, she’d had to develop nerves of steel. But this wasn’t just another industry executive she was dealing with, this was a man whose decision could cause her to lose a significant percentage of her current business.
Apparently determined to make her wait, the man stopped at several tables, taking time to laugh and talk with other patrons. Customers called out in Greek to him or raised a hand in greeting. Trish decided the fact that most of the people here knew him probably wasn’t all that surprising considering the size of Corfu Town.
Finally he stood tableside. Trish rose to her feet and extended her hand. “Theo Catomeris?”
“Mrs. Melrose.” A slight smile touched his lips and he gave her hand a brief shake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
His English was perfect with only the barest hint of an accent.
“Please,” she said, taking his hand. “Call me Trish.”
A tingle raced up her arm when her palm met his large callused one in a firm grip. Up close his brown hair reminded her of strong coffee, so dark it could almost be black. But the hint of gray at his temples told her he wasn’t as young as she’d first thought. In fact, he was probably a little older than her own thirty-seven years.
Still, he was a magnificent forty. A man in his prime. She could practically feel the waves of testosterone rolling off him.
“You may call me Theo,” he said politely, pushing in her chair as she took her seat.
Out of the corner of her eye, Trish saw a few people staring and realized she and Theo had become the main attraction in the small café.
“Have you had lunch?” she asked when he took the seat opposite her.
Mentioning food or the weather was always a good conversation starter. But Theo didn’t have a chance to respond because the proprietress chose that moment to deliver a bottle of ouzo to the table along with ice and water. The older woman’s cheeks might have been a road map of wrinkles, but her dark eyes still had a youthful flare and a healthy dose of curiosity.
“This woman is a friend, Theo?” the woman asked, her hands fluttering in the air like tiny wrens.
“Mrs. Melrose and I have done business together in the past,” Theo said smoothly. “She and I have some work-related concerns to discuss.”
Theo went on to introduce the proprietress as his grandmother, Menka Catomeris. He also casually mentioned that his grandfather, Tommy, was in the kitchen cooking.
After a few seconds of polite conversation, the woman bustled off to take care of other diners. But not before giving Theo another hug and making him promise to stop in back and see his grandfather before he left.
Trish felt a pang of envy. It was obvious the threesome had a warm, loving relationship.
“You’re lucky to be so close to your grandparents,” Trish said, her tone sounding wistful even to her ears. It had been her dream to have her daughter, Cassidy, grow up surrounded by family. But her ex-husband’s parents were too busy with their own lives to spend much time with the child and Trish’s parents lived in Nebraska.
Theo poured ouzo into the glass and added water. “They’re more like parents than grandparents. I’ve been with them since I was a baby.”
She’d expected him to continue but his lips clamped down as if he’d said more than he’d intended.
“I’m sorry.” A wave of compassion washed over Trish. “Did your parents die?”
“No.” Theo raised the glass to his lips. “My mother lives in Athens. My father isn’t…involved.”
Trish almost asked what had happened, but at the last minute regained her common sense. This was a work-related luncheon, and until their business was concluded, it wouldn’t do to let the conversation get too personal. Still, the more she knew about Theo, the better she’d be able to solidify a deal that met both their needs.
“How did you get started doing tours?” she asked.
“I went to college in Athens,” he said in an offhand tone, taking a sip of ouzo. “Then to Stanford for my MBA.”
Trish smiled. No wonder he spoke such perfect English.
“And then?” she prompted when he didn’t immediately continue.
“When I returned to Greece, I worked in Athens for a brokerage firm for several years.” His eyes grew distant with remembrance. “But my heart wasn’t in it. I bought my first boat, returned to Corfu and started my business.”
Trish picked up a piece of feta. “How many boats do you have now?”
“Six,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “We now go to most of the Ionian Islands. In the beginning it was just Kefalonia.”
Trish took another bite of the delicious cheese, and tried to get a hold on the excitement strumming through her body. The excursion to Kefalonia was the reason for this meeting, and Theo had just opened the door to that discussion.
“From what I understand, Kefalonia is a must-see for visitors to this area,” Trish said, doing her best to keep her tone casual.
“You’ve never been there?” Menka asked, suddenly reappearing to place a plate of savory phyllo pastries on the table. Apparently the older woman had decided if they were there, they were going to eat.
Trish shook her head. “This is my first visit to the area.”
“You must go,” Menka said. “You must make a tour.”
Trish hesitated. She and her friend had booked a spot on an excursion to Kefalonia later in the afternoon. But she hated to mention the plan for fear Theo would use it as a reason to cut their meeting short.
“It sounds like Kefalonia is a place everyone should have a chance to see,” Trish answered instead, casting a pointed glance toward Theo.
Theo nodded. “It’s very beautiful.”
“Theo. Maybe you could—” Menka stopped mid-sentence, her gaze focused on Theo. Instead of continuing with the thought she merely patted Theo on the shoulder and scurried off.
Theo glanced down at the phyllo pastries his grandmother had placed on the table. “Yiayia likes to bring me all my favorite dishes when I come here. I can ask her for a menu if you’d like to order something else.”
“Thank you, but these will be fine. They look wonderful.” The delicious smells in the café had set her stomach to rumbling and she’d always found eating to be conducive to doing business. “While we’re eating, why don’t you tell me a little bit about Corfu?”
Theo obligingly started talking and continued to talk while Menka brought them salads and then grilled fish. It didn’t take Trish long to realize why Theo was so effective as a tour operator. The man possessed a wealth of knowledge about his home country…and a passion.
Yet by the time the galactoboureko—a milk custard pie with phyllo pastry and a touch of honey—had arrived, Trish had lost interest in geography and history.
Instead she found her attention focused on Theo. On the way his brown—almost black—hair brushed his shoulders. The way his lips closed around the spoon with the custard, the way he gestured with his fingers to make a point.
Even the way he talked fascinated her. His English was excellent, but occasionally his inflection would reveal that he wasn’t a native speaker.
Trish suddenly wished that she didn’t have an agenda and could just enjoy his company. If only the words business and contracts didn’t have to cross her lips.
She wasn’t sure how he was going to react to the incentive she planned to offer him. Regardless of what Mr. Stamos called it, offering Theo’s foundation a generous donation in exchange for him resuming the Kefalonia excursions smacked of bribery.
“Trish.” Theo’s deep voice broke through her reverie and she looked up to find him staring at her, an inscrutable expression on his face.
“I suppose you want to get down to business.” She practically sighed the word and a dimple flashed in his cheek. Once she’d laid the offer on the table, the delightful lunch would be over.
He leaned back in his chair. “What’s on your mind?”
Trish opened her mouth and the words she didn’t want to speak tumbled out.
CHAPTER TWO
“COULD YOU EXPLAIN to me,” Trish said, lifting a glass of ouzo to her lips, “your reservations about signing the contract to do shore excursions for Liberty Line?”
Though Theo had wondered how long it would take her to get to the point of the meeting, disappointment coursed through him. He’d been enjoying her company and hated to see the conversation turn ugly.
He had terminated all of his tour company’s contracts with the Liberty Line when his father had bought out the previous owners.
He had no doubt that Mrs. Melrose, Trish, was in league with his father. When he’d spoken with her on the phone she’d been careful to portray herself as an independent businesswoman who needed his help. But Theo hadn’t been fooled. Her new alliance with Elias Stamos made her the enemy.
But he’d contracted with her company for a number of years and had always been treated fairly. That was the only reason he’d agreed to meet with her. Not because he was considering her offer, but out of respect.
“The previous owners of Liberty were friends of mine,” Theo said, meeting her gaze. “I don’t care to work with the new owner.”
“Is that what you want me to tell Mr. Stamos?” Trish’s voice remained calm but the two bright patches of color on her cheeks told him he’d been right to delay this discussion. At this point, the only way their conversation was going to end was badly.
“Tell him whatever you want,” Theo said with a careless shrug.
“There has to be more going on here.” Trish’s brows pressed together in a delicate frown. “In our business we both work with people we either don’t know very well or sometimes don’t particularly like. As long as they follow the terms of a contract, I don’t see the issue.”
She was a bulldog, this one. Once she’d latched on to something, it wouldn’t be easy to shake her loose. But this was one battle that wouldn’t be won by tenacity, because Theo would never, ever work for the man who had abandoned him as a boy, no matter how pretty the emissary.
“You don’t need to understand.” A thread of steel wove its way through Theo’s voice. “All you need to know is that I don’t choose to accept your offer.”
Trish opened her mouth to speak but shut it without saying a word.
Theo felt a surge of satisfaction. She’d finally gotten the message. And she’d taken his refusal remarkably well. His gaze lingered on her face, the ivory skin with a smattering of freckles, the patrician nose with just enough tilt to make it interesting. If she were just another tourist from America, he’d ask her to go with him to Kefalonia this afternoon.
Visitors to the island were always awed and amazed at its beauty. If they’d had time, he might have even taken her up into the mountains and shown her the wild horses…
“I understand there are wild horses on Kefalonia,” Trish said.
Theo jerked back slightly. It was as if she’d read his mind.
“I don’t know if I told you,” Trish said. “But I’m a huge animal lover.”
Theo tilted his head. It confused him when women switched conversation topics midstream. Usually he could follow their logic…but not this time.
“Is that right?” He wrapped his hands around the steaming cup of espresso.
“I’m involved with Paws and Hands Together,” she said. “It’s a shih tzu rescue organization.”
Theo pulled his brows together, trying to place the breed. “Are those the dogs that look like mops?”
Trish laughed. “They’re the ones.”
“What do you do with the organization?” He liked the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the dogs.
“I maintain the Web site,” she said, the tension which had tightened the corners of her mouth easing. “And I take in foster dogs, ones waiting to be adopted. I also do some fund-raising. Finding good homes for these animals takes some serious cash.”
The passion in her voice was contagious and suddenly Theo found himself telling her all about the wild horses of Kefalonia and his plans to save them from extinction.
“I can’t believe that the government isn’t doing more to protect them.” Outrage filled Trish’s voice and her hazel eyes flashed.
Theo had to smile at her vehemence. He felt the same way but had learned anger without action accomplished nothing. “I know what you mean. We continue to lobby for a ruling to protect wild horses on public and National Park lands. But we can’t wait for that to happen. We need to focus on making changes happen ourselves.”
“That can get expensive.”
There was something in her voice that caused him to look up. But all he saw on her face was concern.
“It is,” Theo admitted. “We need to improve the watering facilities and provide shelter, as well as developing nature watch facilities and protection safaris. It all costs money.”
He leaned forward and his love for these abandoned creatures welled up and spilled over into his voice. “The wild horses of Mount Ainos have no one else. If my foundation doesn’t help them, who will? They are on the verge of extinction.”
His grandfather had taken him to Kefalonia for the first time when he’d been but a small boy. They’d hiked the mountain above the village of Arginia and it was there that Theo had gotten his first glimpse of the ponies.
When his grandfather had told him that no one wanted the proud, spirited animals, Theo had felt an instant affinity. Though he knew his grandparents loved him, sometimes he felt as if no one wanted him, either.
Way back then, when he’d been but a child, he’d vowed to help the horses.
Now his childish dream had become a reality.
“Where do most of your donations come from?”
Trish’s voice pulled him back to the present.
