Summer Love: The Best Mistake / Impulse

Rebecca stopped, caught on the brink of confession. The man who faced her was classically handsome. His silver mane contrasted with bronzed skin lined by a half century of sun. He wore a mustache that swept majestically over gleaming teeth.

“It was kind of you to invite us here this evening, but it would be kinder still to introduce me to your lovely companion.”

“Rebecca Malone, Dimitri Petropolis.”

A diamond glittered on the hand he lifted to clasp Rebecca’s. The hand itself was hard as rock. “A pleasure. Athens is already abuzz with talk of the woman who arrived with Stephen.”

Certain he was joking, she smiled. “Then Athens must be in desperate need of news.”

His eyes widened for a moment, then creased at the corners when he laughed. “I have no doubt you will provide an abundance of it.”

Stephen slipped a hand under Rebecca’s elbow. The look he sent Dimitri was very quick and very clear. They had competed over land, but there would be no competition over Rebecca.

“If you’ll excuse us a moment, Dimitri, I’d like to get Rebecca some champagne.”

“Of course.” Amused—and challenged—Dimitri brushed at his mustache as he watched them walk away.

Rebecca had no way of knowing that to Stephen a small dinner party meant a hundred people. She sipped her first glass of wine, hoping she wouldn’t embarrass them both by being foolishly shy and tongue-tied. In the past, whenever she had found herself in a crowd, she had always looked for the nearest corner to fade into. Not tonight, she promised herself, straightening her shoulders.

There were dozens of names to remember, but she filed them away as easily as she had always filed numbers. In the hour before dinner, while the guests mixed and mingled, she found herself at ease. The stomach flutters and hot blushes she’d often experienced at parties and functions simply didn’t happen.

Perhaps she was the new Rebecca Malone after all.

She heard business discussed here and there. Most of it seemed to be hotel and resort business—talk of remodeling and expansions, mergers and takeovers. She found it odd that so many of the guests were in that trade, rather than prosperous farmers or olive growers.

Stephen came up behind her and murmured in her ear, “You look pleased with yourself.”

“I am.” He couldn’t know that she was pleased to find herself at ease and comfortable in a party of strangers. “So many interesting people.”

“Interesting.” He brushed a finger over her wispy bangs. “I thought you might find it dull.”

“Not at all.” She took a last sip of champagne, then set the glass aside. Instantly a waiter was at her side, offering another. Stephen watched her smile her thanks.

“So you enjoy parties?”

“Sometimes. I’m enjoying this one, and having a chance to meet your associates.”

Stephen glanced over her shoulder, summing up the looks and quiet murmurs. “They’ll be talking about you for weeks to come.”

She only laughed, turning in a slow circle. Around her was the flash of jewels and the gleam of gold. The sleek and the prosperous, the rich and the successful. It pleased her that she’d found more to talk about than tax shelters.

“I can’t imagine they have so little on their minds. This is such a gorgeous room.”

She looked around the huge ballroom, with its cream-and-rose walls, its glittering chandeliers and its gleaming floors. There were alcoves for cozy love seats and tall, thriving ornamental trees in huge copper pots. The tables, arranged to give a sense of intimacy, were already set with ivory cloths and slender tapers.

“It’s really a beautiful hotel,” she continued. “Everything about it runs so smoothly.” She smiled up at him. “I’m torn between the resort in Corfu and this.”

“Thank you.” When she gave him a blank look, he tipped up her chin with his finger. “They’re mine.”

“Your what?”

“My hotels,” he said simply, then led her to a table.

She spoke all through dinner, though for the first fifteen minutes she had no idea what she said. There were eight at Stephen’s table, including Dimitri, who had shifted name cards so that he could sit beside her. She toyed with her seafood appetizer, chatted and wondered if she could have made a bigger fool out of herself.

He wasn’t simply prosperous. He wasn’t simply well-off. There was enough accountant left in Rebecca to understand that when a man owned what Stephen owned he was far, far more than comfortable.

What would he think of her when he found out what she was? Trust? How could she ever expect him to trust her now? She swallowed without tasting and managed to smile. Would he think she was a gold digger, that she had set herself up to run into him?