Быстрое и нестандартное мышление: 50+50 задач для тренировки навыков успешного человека. Чарльз Филлипс
private bolthole—and climbed the headland of volcanic rock, he barely noticed the stunning view of the crystalline turquoise sea. Instead he visualised Isla in her sexy red dress and remembered how soft her body had felt against his when she’d brushed past him on the terrace.
She had insisted that she loved Stelios. Of course she was bound to say that, Andreas brooded. But, for all his cynicism, he could not deny that there had been genuine emotion in her voice. Another thing which had thrown him was learning that she was highly educated and worked in a goddamn museum. If she had been an airhead it would be easier to dismiss her relationship with his father. Isla Stanford was an enigma. Andreas did not know what to make of her and it irritated the hell out of him.
On his way back to the villa his phone rang. ‘You are sure about this?’ he questioned the security officer who he’d asked to look into Isla’s background. ‘I see. That’s very interesting. Keep digging, Theo.’
His father and Isla were sitting at the breakfast table on the terrace which overlooked the infinity pool. Andreas hoped to slip unnoticed into the house, but Stelios waved to him and with a faint sigh he walked towards the table.
‘Kalimera, Papa, Isla,’ he murmured in greeting. The thought briefly crossed his mind that his father looked thinner than when he’d seen him in London a month ago. But his gaze was drawn to Isla and he forgot everything else.
In contrast to the sex-bomb image she’d projected last night, this morning she looked as pure as the driven snow in a pale lemon sundress with narrow straps that revealed her delicate shoulders. It was the first time Andreas had seen her hair loose and he wished he could run his fingers through the mass of honey-gold silk that tumbled in soft waves down her back.
Frustration darkened his mood. His fascination with Isla was something he’d never experienced before. Women came and went in his life without making any impact on him. He enjoyed their company as long as it was on his terms and he liked sex uncomplicated by commitment. Perhaps he wanted Isla so badly because she was off limits, he derided himself. For a man who had discovered while he was still a teenager that he could have any woman he wanted with the minimum of effort on his part, the fact that she was unobtainable made her exciting.
But maybe the reason why his heart jolted against his ribs when he met her cool grey gaze was simply that Isla was breathtakingly lovely. Tearing his gaze from her, Andreas glanced at the pile of newspapers on the table. Most of the European tabloids carried a photo on the front page of Stelios looking into the eyes of his new fiancée while he pressed his lips against the enormous diamond on her finger.
Andreas had woken to the storm on social media created by his father’s marriage plans. The announcement had resulted in a spike in Karelis Corp’s share price on the stock market. Investors liked strong company leaders, and presumably the news that Stelios was planning to marry a woman decades younger than him proved that the old man was still a force to be reckoned with, Andreas thought sardonically.
‘I am surprised that you decided to make a public statement about your engagement, Papa. You have previously been critical whenever my name has made the headlines.’
Stelios’s lips thinned. ‘A kiss-and-tell story by one of your disgruntled ex-lovers in a downmarket rag is not the same thing as an announcement about my future plans to the media.’
Andreas was genuinely curious. ‘You have always kept your personal life separate from business but I understand that you invited journalists into the boardroom of Karelis Corp to make your announcement. I am merely pointing out that it is not like you to court the paparazzi.’
Was it his imagination or did Stelios seem relieved when the conversation was curtailed by the arrival of the butler bearing a jug of coffee? Moments later, Dinos’s wife Toula, who had worked as the family’s cook at the villa for as long as Andreas could remember, bustled across the terrace carrying a plate with his favourite breakfast of spinach and feta wrapped in filo pastry. He was fond of the couple, who had taken care of him when he was a boy and had been sent to stay on Louloudi in the school holidays because his mother had preferred him to be out of the way.
‘I am happy that you no longer race your big motorbike,’ Toula told him after they had exchanged greetings. She glanced heavenwards. ‘Always I used to pray that you would be safe. When you had your accident I was so worried about you.’
‘As you can see, I am fully recovered,’ Andreas reassured her, automatically rubbing his hand over the long scar on his chest that was hidden beneath his running vest. The loss of his racing career was still painful and the scar was an ugly reminder of the accident during a race two years ago in which he’d suffered a ruptured aorta that had almost proved fatal.
‘We are all glad that Andreas has finally seen sense and given up fooling around on motorbikes and riding them at ridiculous speeds,’ Stelios said in a gruff tone.
Andreas’s mouth tightened. He hadn’t expected sympathy from his father, who had disapproved of his racing career. But the lecture he’d received while he had been recovering from his injuries had driven a wedge further between him and Stelios. It had been the same old rhetoric: Karelis Corp was his destiny and his duty.
‘I was the Superbike World Champion for four consecutive years,’ he reminded his father. ‘The racing team which I own and manage is regarded as a world leader in the development of analytics used to modernise engine configuration testing, and Aeolus Racing has sponsorship worth millions of dollars. I would not call that fooling around.’
Stelios frowned. ‘Your place is here in Greece, not in California. You know that I would like to retire and you should be preparing to take my place as head of the company.’
‘You have spent much of your time in England for the past eighteen months,’ Andreas pointed out. ‘Every time I visited you in London I tried to talk about Karelis Corp, and in particular some worrying rumours I have heard about the company, but you refused to discuss things with me.’
A dark flush appeared on Stelios’s face. ‘I need to be sure of your commitment to Karelis Corp. If you spent less time womanising, and there were fewer stories about your personal life in the gutter press I would feel more confident about handing the most powerful role in the company over to you.’
Andreas gritted his teeth. ‘You know full well that the woman who sold her story to the papers was lying.’
But the damage to his reputation had been done, Andreas thought bitterly. When lingerie model Sadie Barnes had told him she was pregnant with his child he’d asked for a paternity test. She had tearfully accused him of not trusting her, but he’d insisted on a test. Instead, Sadie had sold a story to the tabloids saying that Andreas had abandoned her and his unborn baby.
The media storm had broken on the day he was due to compete in a motorbike race which, had he won, would have given him the title of World Superbike Champion for a record fifth time. But an hour before the race Stelios had phoned Andreas and accused him of bringing shame to the name Karelis and damaging the company. The furious exchange of words with his father had, Andreas was sure, contributed to his lapse of concentration that had resulted in the high-speed crash.
‘I accept that that particular story turned out to be untrue, but your playboy image is not good for Karelis Corp,’ Stelios muttered. ‘You should be thinking about marrying a suitable wife and settling down.’ Andreas gave a snort of derision and Stelios rose to his feet and shook his head when Isla immediately stood up. ‘Sit down and finish your breakfast, my dear.’ He spoke to her in a softer voice than he had used to his son. ‘I need to phone my lawyer and I’ll go to my study to make the call.’
Isla looked as though she wanted to argue as she watched Stelios walk slowly towards the house. After a few moments she sat back down and glared at Andreas. Clearly she blamed him for the argument with Stelios. The truth was that he and his father were both strong-willed, but Stelios wanted an heir he could mould into his likeness, not a maverick son who was determined to make his own mark on the world.
Andreas scowled at the plate of food in front of him, his appetite suddenly non-existent. He felt taut and