The Mediterranean Tycoon. Margaret Mayo

his desk for signing. ‘How do I get to your house?’ She had no idea where he lived. Again the rumour machine had him living in a fantastic mansion overlooking Southampton Water with a whole host of servants at his beck and call.

      ‘No need to drive; I’ll pick you up. What time does the match finish?’

      About to say he didn’t have to put himself out, Peta decided against it. She was the one doing the favour so why should she do the running?

      Peta clapped and yelled enthusiastically every time Ben’s team scored a goal. And when Ben himself scored she went wild with delight. ‘Well done, Ben!’ she shouted, jumping up and down, clapping her hands. ‘Go for it!’

      Another much louder voice echoed her words from behind. ‘Well done, Ben!’

      She turned and there was an instant’s sizzling reaction as she met the eyes of Andreas Papadakis. She was the first to look away, praying fervently that he wasn’t able to read her mind. It was all so wrong, this physical attraction. Despite her telling her body to behave itself, it had gone into involuntary spasm and there was nothing she could do about it.

      At his side was a boy roughly Ben’s height, dark-haired and dark-eyed, but with a much rounder face than his father’s and a thinner mouth. ‘How did you find us?’ she asked. They’d arranged for him to pick her up at her house, which was a five-minute walk away.

      ‘I followed the noise. It sounds an exciting match.’

      ‘It is,’ she agreed. ‘And this is Nikos, I take it?’

      ‘It is, indeed. Nikos, this is the lady I told you about, the one who’s going to look after you when Bronwen leaves.’

      Nikos looked up at her with serious brown eyes. ‘I don’t like Bronwen. She shouts a lot.’

      Peta wondered whether he deserved it, whether he played her up when his father was absent. ‘Ben’s dying to meet you,’ she said with a warm smile.

      When she’d told Ben they might be moving he’d been at first upset and then excited, especially when he learned that there’d be someone his own age to play with, and they’d probably be living in a much bigger house.

      ‘It will be good to have some company,’ said Nikos. ‘I get bored on my own. Which one is Ben? I like football. I’d like to play with them.’

      Peta’s eyes met Andreas’s and she smiled, remembering him telling her how grown-up Nikos was for his age. And she was amazed at how good his English was, too. Ben hadn’t even started to learn a foreign language yet.

      ‘Doesn’t your school have a football team?’

      ‘Yes, but I am never allowed to take part. Dad is always too busy, and none of my nannies has liked football.’

      Again Peta looked at Andreas. His lips turned down at the corners and he shook his head, suggesting that he knew nothing about it. Which was about par for the course, she decided. Andreas spent far too much time working, relying heavily on other people to look after his son. It was no wonder he didn’t know the thoughts that went through Nikos’s head.

      ‘Well, I like it,’ she said. ‘So go ahead and join your team; I’ll always come and cheer you on.’

      ‘You will?’ His eyes shone with delight. ‘Thank you. Thank you very much. Did you hear that, Dad? I think I am going to like my new nanny.’

      Peta only hoped that his matches wouldn’t clash with Ben’s. She would hate to let Nikos down now that she’d made her promise.

      When the match was over Peta wanted to take Ben home to shower and change, but Andreas insisted that it didn’t matter, and in the back of the car the two boys soon got to know one another.

      ‘They’re getting on well,’ murmured Andreas.

      Peta nodded. ‘Ben’s a good mixer. What made you come so early?’

      He gave a guilty grimace. ‘When I explained to Nikos where we were going it was his idea. I hadn’t realised he was so interested in football.’

      ‘Most small boys are.’

      ‘Am I being chastised?’

      She looked at him then, and it was a big mistake. There was a hint of wry humour on his face, something she had never seen before. He was no longer the Tyrant but a father, with a son he loved but didn’t know much about. And he was sharing that knowledge with her.

      It felt oddly like a bond, and she could so easily fall into the trap of revealing her feelings. But that wasn’t what he wanted, and neither did she, for that matter. Andreas needed someone to care for his son when he was unable to. And he had placed that trust in her. She dared not let him down by showing a marked preference for his body.

      For once the rumour machine was right. He did live in a big house, though it wasn’t overlooking Southampton Water. It was set in its own grounds, hidden from the road, suddenly emerging as they rounded a bend in the drive. It was a red-brick and timber building, several hundred years old, by the look of it, with ivy clambering over some of the walls, tall chimneys reaching for the sky, every window gleaming in the late-evening sun.

      ‘I don’t own, I rent,’ he told her, seeing the look of awe and amazement on her face. ‘I took it while I looked around for somewhere suitable, but to tell you the truth I haven’t had time, and actually I like it here. I’m considering making the owner an offer.’

      Nikos and Ben were already out of the car and running towards the house. Andreas and Peta followed. She felt uncomfortable walking beside him; it felt wrong to be going to her employer’s house, to even consider living with him. She wasn’t a nanny; how could he expect her to do a nanny’s job? Her only qualification was bringing up her own son. The tempting part was that she would see more of Ben. No more leaving him with Marnie while she worked late, or even when he came home from school. She would be there for him always. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

      Andreas wasn’t looking at her, and yet he must have sensed her smiling because he turned and spoke. ‘You’re happy about the situation?’

      ‘I guess so. I was thinking about being able to spend more time with Ben.’ What she didn’t dare think about was spending time with Andreas. Not that she expected to see very much of him. With her safely ensconced in his house looking after his precious son, he would be able to stay at the office for as long as he liked.

      And if he brought work home for her to do that would be even better, because there would be hours in the day while the boys were at school when she would have nothing to do. Unless he expected her to look after the house as well? She didn’t mind cooking for Nikos but what else would he expect of her? Exactly what were a nanny’s duties?

      The boys had raced upstairs, where, presumably, Nikos had his Scalextric laid out. Peta stood in the entrance hall and looked around her. Impressive wasn’t the word. A carved oak staircase curved its way up to a galleried landing. Stained-glass windows cast coloured reflections, and oil paintings, presumably of owners past, decorated the walls. It was like something she’d seen in a film but never first-hand.

      He led the way along a lengthy corridor to a huge, comfortable kitchen, where a buxom middle-aged woman stood making pastry. ‘I wasn’t expecting you yet, Mr Papadakis,’ she said, looking flustered. ‘Nor was Bronwen. She’s gone out to meet her boyfriend.’

      A harsh frown creased his brow. ‘Perhaps it’s as well she’s leaving,’ he said tersely. ‘Bess, I’d like you to meet Bronwen’s replacement, Peta James. Peta, this is Bess Middleton, my housekeeper.’

      The woman’s thin brows rose into untidy grey hair. I wonder how long you’ll last? she seemed to be saying.

      ‘Hello, Bess.’ Peta held out her hand, then laughed when she realised the other woman’s was covered in flour. ‘I’m not starting until next week. Andreas thought I ought to have a look over the place.’

      ‘You’ve met Nikos,