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‘Can you imagine growing up here?’ she enthused.
Zac didn’t respond. His expression was opaque but she read disapproval in his shuttered eyes. Again it was less what he said and more of what he didn’t say that bothered her. Rose gave a tiny sigh, exasperated by his lightning moods that made it hard to relax around him, which was maybe, she reflected, not such a bad thing. Relax too much around him and she might be in trouble.
She didn’t pursue the thought as to what the trouble might involve because the pilot had set the helicopter down smoothly on a vast area of green to one side of the house. As she peered through the window she could make out massive decorative wrought-iron gates set in a stone wall that appeared to surround the house and grounds. They stood open.
‘Do you own this area outside the walls too?’ Her fascination for his home overcame her determination to behave more like an employee and less like an inquisitive house guest.
This place could not have been a more dramatic contrast to his London apartment, which, with its expensive neutrality, gave very little clue to the man who occupied it, other than the fact he had limitless resources, but there was none ofhimin the place, or so it seemed to Rose. But then maybe that was him, slick, and expensive?
He glanced her way before nodding and shading his eyes as he followed the direction of her gaze.
‘The land goes all the way to the public road, about a mile away, and then the lower slopes of the mountain.’ He nodded to the steep, densely wooded hillside.
‘That is abiggishgarden,’ she said, eyes wide. ‘So this is an estate?’
He shrugged casually but didn’t dispute her description. ‘Many hectares are forested but we have some productive olives. The family who owned it sold off sections of land over the years. I negotiated to buy some back—it is a work in progress.’
‘You make your own olive oil?’ She was charmed by the idea.
He laughed. ‘There is a little too much for just domestic use. We supply a few outlets around the world. Artisan products have a big market these days.’ He watched her looking impatiently through the window, her childlike impatience amusing him—until it annoyed him. ‘They’ll have finished offloading the luggage in a moment.’
‘I bet you have some lovely family parties here.’ She watched the shutters come down, which should have told her to back off but it only made her more curious.
‘I believe they do.’ Though his family had considered him mad when he took on the task of the renovation, they were all happy enough now to spend holidays here frequently en masse.
‘They?’ she wondered out loud, a frown tugging at her smooth brow.
‘I am a busy man. Besides,’ he threw over his shoulder as he rose, ‘a GGW might eat the guests.’ He watched the mortified heat climb into her cheeks, and felt a scratch of guilt, but his jibe had effectively diverted her from her line of questioning.
‘You heard...?’
His grin was very white. ‘I appreciated the gorgeous.’
‘Like you didn’t know,’ she muttered under her breath, her discomfort mingled with indignation because he seemed to be enjoying her embarrassment.
‘Like you didn’t know, Mr Adamos,’ he corrected with mocking solemnity.
Arthur’s arrival denied her the right of reply, which was not a bad thing because you couldn’t really call your boss the things she wanted to—even if he was one!
On terra firma, Rose was immediately conscious that the air smelt different. She inhaled a few lungsful of the fragrance that the aerial view had not revealed.
‘Thyme, mint, rosemary,’ he said, watching her. ‘They all grow wild here with a strong hint of cypress and sea salt. If you could bottle it you’d make a fortune.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, glancing across as someone slammed a Jeep door.
‘The luggage,’ he explained. ‘There’s room for you if you want a ride.’
‘I’ll walk, thanks.’ She wanted to take it all in. ‘I’ve been sitting down all day. I need to stretch my legs.’
He glanced down. She was wearing the baby, who was awake and looking happy against her breasts—who wouldn’t?—in the sling arrangement. ‘It’s a bit of a hill.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll take him.’
She swung around, the surprise in her eyes melting into approval, which he wasn’t looking for, although it made sense for him to get used to the baby.
‘Great. The sling is quite easy really. It’ll need adjusting. You’re not my size but—’
‘No,’ Zac interrupted the flow. There were limitations, and wearing the baby carrier was one of them. ‘I’ll carry him, if you trust me.’
‘Of course!’ she said, sounding outraged at the idea she wouldn’t as she freed the baby from the baby carrier and carefully transferred him to Zac. ‘You’re his...’ She paused. ‘Are you going to adopt him?’
