The Cinderella Seduction: A Suddenly Cinderella Novel (Entangled Indulgence) (6 page)

“I am sure it is charming,” he cut in, noting how once again she’d made a point of including Mara. “But you will forgive me if I insist.” Modern though he was in many ways, imposing upon a woman to chauffeur him, even if he was a foreign visitor and the city her home didn’t set well.

“Okay,” she relented, “but traffic in this area can get pretty intense, especially at rush hour.”

Nick held back a smile. As one who’d driven his Formula One Ferrari in several Grand Prix races, he felt confident he could navigate his way around the DC Beltway. “Fortunately I can be…pretty intense myself. Is nine o’clock too early?”

She shook her head, sending more rich brunet hair tumbling. “Nine’s perfect. If you come a bit before, we can have breakfast before we leave.”

“Oh no, you have already made this most beautiful meal. I cannot impose again so soon.” When at his flat in Athens, he lived very simply. Other than a part-time housekeeper who came once a week, he lived without servants. Regretting the mess she’d been left, he wished he were at liberty to stay and help her clean up. Were it not for Mara, he would.

She shrugged. “It’s no imposition. Leftover baklava makes a great breakfast, and I have some beautiful fresh fruit from the market.” She reached up and tucked a caramel-colored lock behind her ear. The slight movement brought her full breasts jutting forward.

At cross-purposes though they were, he was hard-pressed not to smack his lips. “I look forward to it with pleasure.”

Car lights and an engine idling had them turning back to the screened door. Peering out, Nick saw that the town car waited.

Drawing back from it, Stefanie she sent him a sleepy smile. “Looks like pumpkin time.”

“Pumpkin time?”

She tilted her head and smiled. “You know, in the Cinderella fairy tale, at midnight everything goes back to the way it was before.”

If only real life worked so neatly. Though he’d read the story to Mara many times, he’d never given it much thought before.

Mara stirred in his arms. “Is it midnight, Papa?” Staying awake to see the magical twelfth hour was a goal she strove to reach.

Stefanie answered for him. “Not yet. Go back to sleep, baby.”

She reached over and stroked the hair back from Mara’s forehead. The gentleness of the gesture struck a chord within Nick. Until now he hadn’t realized that women like Stefanie existed in his generation. Under more neutral circumstances she would be someone he could foresee becoming a friend, perhaps more. Unfortunately she was daughter to the man who owed him a lot of money. If he had to mine Olympia project by project and stone by stone to retrieve it, he would do so. The mother superior and the orphans were depending upon him to honor his word. Letting her hand fall away, she lifted her face to look at him. “I’d better let you get this little one to bed.”

Mesmerized by her mouth—such sweetly parted lips—he nodded. “
Kali nichta
.”
Good night.

“
Kali nichta,
” she repeated slowly as if she hadn’t spoken the Greek in a while. She slipped past him to open the door, and the closeness of the space brought their bodies brushing.

Nick felt the brief contact almost as an electrical charge frissoning through him. This was more than attraction—this was what those of his parents’ generation called “chemistry.” Who would have imagined that the temptress sent to test his willpower and newfound resolve to put aside his player ways and be a better man would take the form of his business opponent’s daughter?

Thinking God must have a sense of humor indeed, Nick shifted Mara in his arms and turned to go. “Sleep well, Stefanie.”

Chapter Four

Thursday, July 3

Why did it have to rain overnight?
Stefanie lamented, staring out her screened front door waiting for Nick. Much of Acropolis Village was still a big dig. Any standing water would reduce the unfinished areas to bog land. She schooled herself to stay positive. It was pointless to focus on what she couldn’t change, in this case the forces of nature. To put the best face on the project, she’d try steering her VIP visitor away from the unfinished areas and focus on those that were at least partially built. The private beach was lovely, cleaned up after Hurricane Sandy, and the wildlife sanctuary lovingly restored. And then there was her trump card, her super secret weapon: Mona, a.k.a Mrs. G. Among the current homeowners, the retired office manager from Baltimore City’s Greek Town was the closest to a champion she had. So long as the senior stuck to the script they’d rehearsed, highlighting the development’s very real good points while glossing over the negatives, all should be well.

A gleaming red Ferrari turning onto her street announced Nick’s arrival. By eight thirty, he stood on her stoop dressed in jeans, a collared black shirt, and a cream-colored linen blazer that was clearly custom-made. The crisp fabric fitted him as though sewn to his skin. Imagining anchoring her hands to his broad shoulders and absorbing his steely strength, Stefanie sucked down a steadying breath.

“Good morning,” she said, stepping back for him to enter.

He did, filling her foyer with the same spicy, musky, altogether yummy male scent she’d detected the night before, only intensified. Had he put on cologne with her in mind? She dismissed the flattering thought with the reminder that the other evening he’d come directly from the airport. Today he was freshly showered and shaved, rested and pressed to perfection.

“
Kali mera
,” he said with a sunny smile, handing her a Starbucks bag filled with pastry. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock,” she answered, the lead into what would be a day chockfull of half-truths and deliberate deceptions. The truth was she’d scarcely slept at all, weary and yet too wired to do more than doze. Even when she had managed to drift off, sexy images of Nick had followed her into her dreams.

So far, stepping into the role of player didn’t feel as empowering as she’d expected. Had Pete felt this shitty about gaming her? Of course he hadn’t. Deception was what white-collar criminals did best. For her, however, spieling even little white lies was already proving to be a lot more taxing than she’d thought.

Holding out the takeout bag, the contents oozing grease, she said, “You didn’t need to bring breakfast.”

He inclined his head. “Need—perhaps not. But it is my pleasure. And I thought we might eat on the way.” His gaze flickered over her, warm and searching, the scrutiny making her glad she’d forgone the jeans she usually wore for site visits in favor of a chic floral-print two-piece.

Distracted, it took her a moment to realize that something, or rather someone, was missing. “Where’s Mara?”

He scraped back a lock of damp, dark hair that had fallen forward over his brow. Fixating on his fingers, tapered yet strong, she snapped herself back in time to hear him say, “I was able to arrange for a sitter through the hotel concierge. She was still sleeping when I left.”

So they would spend the day alone together. That was…
convenient
. With his bachelor status confirmed, she no longer needed to rely on food alone to woo him. Seduction, according to Macie, was one-third action and two-thirds tease. For her pop’s sake, Stefanie resolved to do her best on the provocation part. Falling into bed with him was out of the question. Single or married, Nick Costas was the enemy. Lust was apparently unavoidable, but she couldn’t afford to
like
him.

She peered past him to the Ferrari occupying a prime street parking space directly in front of her house. Really, who leased a Ferrari for just a few days? Apparently a visiting Greek billionaire did. And damn, she almost never scored that spot. Her ramshackle car was parked on a side street five blocks away, the closest she’d been able to get the last time she’d driven it. In addition to being extremely genetically blessed and born into the best of families, was he also like…living
The Secret
?

“What happened to the driver my pop arranged?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as miffed as she suddenly felt. Was the town car with its driver—a splurge for them—not good enough?

“I—how do you say it?—
ditched
him,” he said, his grin making him look more like a mischievous schoolboy than a mogul with the power to bulldoze her father’s business and her grandfather’s legacy.

Stefanie had planned on doing the driving, an intention she’d made clear last night. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You don’t know the area.”

He had, she grudgingly admitted, saved them a hike in the heat. Still, the way he seized control as a matter of course—as if being the leader was his birthright—galled her. As the owner of her own business, Stefanie was used to calling the shots. Ceding the proverbial driver’s seat didn’t sit well with her, not that it seemed she had a choice. Apparently “seducing” him would involve embracing her more traditional side.

He shrugged. “True, I do not, but you do. And the car has GPS,” he added in a teasing tone, reaching past her to open the door.

Remembering she was supposed to be winning him over, not picking him to pieces, she pasted on a smile. “In that case, how can I resist?”

Grabbing her handbag off the hook, she deliberately brushed his biceps, the muscle beneath the fine tailoring solid as steel. “Oh, sorry,” she said though of course she was anything but. Unfortunately she was turned on as well. Fantasizing about what it would feel like to be banded by his powerful embrace, wondering if she’d get to find out for real, she shivered against the sudden tingling tripping along her spine.

If Nick was affected by the casual contact, he gave no sign of it. Letting out a laugh, his big hand took possession of her shoulder, the heat from his palm searing through her clothes. “Do not look so worried, Stefanie. You will be safe with me.”

…

“And this is where the agora will be,” Stefanie said as they walked the periphery of the fenced-off marketplace, their safety boots sloshing through mud.

Apart from a pair of Doric columns and set of steps announcing the facade, the market building was still an empty slab of concrete foundation. It was a stark and sad contrast to the billboard depicting the architect’s rendering of an elegant glass-enclosed gallery containing a Greek grocery and specialty shops.

Silently Nick admitted the situation was even grimmer than it appeared on paper. The overnight rains had turned the unpaved pathways into a bog.
Danger, Do Not Enter
signs were prominently posted. Staked tarps, deserted cranes, and rusted construction equipment surrounded them. Other than the leasing office and one of the three mini-residential “villages,” most of the project was still a working construction site. Not working—abandoned. Stefanie had attributed the ghost town-like quality to the upcoming holiday, but Nick had his doubts. It was evident that the site had lain fallow for far longer than a few days.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked when she pulled out her iPhone yet again. The frequency with which she’d checked it since their arrival a few hours ago had him wondering what she might be up to.

The brim of her bright yellow hard hat slid forward, shadowing her lovely eyes, but not so much that Nick couldn’t detect the anxiety they reflected. Not for the first time since they’d arrived, he faulted her father for placing her in this position. What kind of coward fabricated having the flu and sent his daughter to defend him?

Shoving the phone back in her pocket, she walked on. “Just…keeping watch on the time. We’ll want to start back before four; otherwise we’ll get caught in rush hour.”

The hour drive up had been uneventful, the I-495 traffic running in a steady stream. Given that it was the summer holiday season, he surmised the return “rush hour” would also be more manageable than usual.

Curious as to what she would say, he asked, “Have you considered using more cost-conserving materials such as EIFIS?”

The synthetic stucco was a popular alternative frequently found in lower-budget residential development. Improper installation and testing often led to bulging and cracking of the outside surface and to water stains on the outer and inner walls, especially around windows and doors.

Stefanie wheeled around to face him. Shoving back her hat to look up at him, she jerked her chin to indicate the site they’d left behind. “Yeah, and the results look fine for the time being, long enough to unload the property on some poor, unsuspecting home buyer. Then you get a weather event or the building settles naturally and suddenly your dream house isn’t looking so dreamy at all. No thank you. I’d rather we take our time finishing things the right way than see Acropolis Village turn out like some tatty suburban strip mall. At Olympia, we don’t cut corners. We build to last, not for five or ten years out but for generations. That’s not just an empty slogan, Mr. Costas. That’s our covenant with consumers.”

Pleased by her passion, even if she had resumed calling him “Mr. Costas,” he said, “For one who is not ‘actively involved in daily operations’ you have an impressive knowledge of construction matters.”

She shrugged, her chin lifting in obvious pride. “Olympia Development has been in my family since my grandfather founded it in 1949. I grew up listening to him and my pop hashing this stuff out over Sunday dinners. I guess some of it sunk in.”

It seemed their backgrounds were more similar than Nick would have thought. He also had learned the family business at the knee of his father. He was still learning. Even having assumed the patriarch’s title and responsibilities, he hoped to have him around for many more years as a mentor.

For now, it was delightful to finally meet a woman with whom he could discuss these matters. Without exception, the models, actresses, and socialites he’d dated would have expired from boredom. Instead, Stefanie stood prepared to debate, even battle him if need be.

But their commonalities didn’t alter the unfortunate fact that they represented opposing sides of a significant business deal. Given those circumstances, he couldn’t afford to enjoy her company too greatly. He suspected that her accidental touch back at the house hadn’t been accidental at all but a deliberate power play. Laying his hand on her shoulder had begun as pure retaliation—and ended in sparking a great deal more. That she’d fitted his palm perfectly was an unfortunate coincidence. Nor had he been as unaffected as he’d forced himself to appear. Going forward, he’d need to be certain to raise his guard around her at all times.

Nick nodded. “I would say a great deal has
sunk
in. Only please, go back to calling me Nick. ‘Mr. Costas’ makes me feel like I am as old as my father,” he added with a wink, a calculated attempt to disarm her.

Her expression lightened. An adorable dimple appeared on the right side of her mouth. “All right…Nick.” She looked up at him with a smile, sending the construction hat seesawing. Acting on instinct, Nick shot out a hand to right it.

Before he could, something or someone caught Stefanie’s eye and she spun away. “Mrs. Gianikos!” she shouted, throwing both arms high into the air.

Dropping his hand, Nick followed her gaze to the roadside where a seventyish woman wearing a sports visor and wrist weights power-walked up the jogging path toward them. “This is a friend of yours?”

Expression fevered, she turned back to him. “Mrs. G and her husband were among the first wave of purchasers in ’07. C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

Grasping his hand, she ferried them forward. Taken by surprise, Nick hesitated, then relaxed, allowing her to tow him along. Though her behavior struck him as odd, even suspicious, he followed anyway. Like his hand molding to her shoulder, her slender fingers fitting about his felt so very…right.

They met the newcomer midway. Stefanie broke hands and sallied forward. “Mrs. Gianikos I’m so glad we ran into you. How are you today?” she asked, pitching her voice higher.

“Fit as a fiddle,” Mrs. Gianikos replied, a smile cracking her wizened face. Tanned, slender, and silver-haired, she could have been a poster “child” for AARP. “Only how many times do I gotta tell you it’s Mona?” She turned to Nick, raking him from head to foot with her keen, wizened eyes. “Who’s the hottie?” she asked, waving a wrinkled hand his way.

Face heating, he stepped forward. “Nick Costas,” he answered, taking her hand in his.

Cheeks pink, Stefanie hurried to explain, “Mr. Costas’s company provided the startup funding for Acropolis Village. He’s visiting us from Greece.”

The two women exchanged what struck Nick as a significant look. “Oh, that’s swell,” Mona enthused. “My family emigrated from Rhodes when I was a little girl. I don’t remember much but what I do remember I miss.”

“Mrs. G—Mona—and her husband own one of the lovely two bedroom bungalows,” Stefanie added, steering the conversation back to the project. “Every room has a water view.”

The woman bobbed her silvered head. “All my life it’s been my dream to live by the water. We bought one a block from the beach. Since making the move, we’ve come to think of ourselves as pioneers,” she added with a chuckle.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick caught Stefanie flinch. “Why is that?” he asked although standing amidst the staked tarps and rusted construction equipment, the answer seemed obvious.

Mrs. G hesitated. Looking from him to Stefanie, she said, “Well, there aren’t all that many neighbors, not that we mind. After living in the city for most of our lives, we appreciate the peace and quiet.”

Stefanie cleared her throat. “Since this is Nick’s first time seeing the project, I’m hoping you can spare a few minutes to talk about why you and your husband decided to retire here.”

The leading question confirmed Nick’s suspicion that Mrs. G hadn’t just happened by. She was a plant, a setup Stefanie had enlisted to dupe him. Still, one of the many lessons Nick’s father had impressed upon him was that a wise man put his pride aside long enough to listen. Even when people set out to deceive you, they almost always revealed something of value. In that spirit, he folded his arms across his chest and waited.