The Renegade Billionaire

“Sure.”

She turned around on her knees and reached in the hamper behind his seat. Her movement sent a faint flowery scent wafting past his nostrils, igniting his senses, which had been in a deep sleep for longer than he cared to remember. After handing him one and taking one for herself, she pulled out two ice-cold bottles of water.

They rode for a few more minutes before she asked, “How high up are we?”

“About four thousand feet.”

“That’s high for an island. Have you climbed to the top of Mount Ypsarion?”

“Many times.” He darted her a glance. “Have you ever climbed a mountain?”

“Yes. Mount Kilimanjaro.”

At her unexpected answer, Stavros let out a whistle. “That’s over nineteen thousand feet high.”

“I found that out when I needed to stay on the oxygen above fourteen thousand feet. My dad took me up while he was working in Tanzania.”

Fascinated, he said, “Does he still work there?”

“No. From there he was sent to French Guiana for two years, then India for three. Later he spent two years in Paraguay and another two in Venezuela. From there he was sent to the Brusson area of northwestern Italy for three years. Then he came to northern Greece. We live in Thessaloniki, where I got my degree in history and archaeology from Aristotle University.”

Stavros marveled. “What does your father do?”

“He works for W.B. Smythe, an American engineering company in Denver, Colorado, where I was born. Gold practically built the state. His company designs and fabricates modular plants and equipment for the extraction of gold and silver. As of this year, they’ve established a global presence in twenty-four countries. From the time I was born, I’ve lived with my father wherever he was sent.” He’d be going to Indonesia next.

“How many languages do you speak?”

She let out a sigh. “Besides the obvious, I’m fluent in Italian and French, and speak some Hindi, Afrikaans, Swahili, Spanish and Guarani. It’s no great thing. You have to learn a country’s language while you’re there if you hope to survive. Lucky for Darren, a lot of your countrymen speak English.”

“Amen.” He cleared his throat. “What about your mother?”

“She died giving birth to me.”

He smothered a moan. No mother...

“Dad and I have been nomads, traveling the globe. He was the one who taught me about the white marble quarries here.”

The feminine fountain of knowledge sitting next to him was blowing him away. Everything about her had already gotten under his skin. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“Besides the fact that the quartz crystalline structure resembles freshly fallen snow and is only quarried on this island?”

“Besides that.”

“He passed on a piece of trivia I found interesting. The visual effects team working on the American films of the Twilight saga used very fine pure white Thassos marble dust, which they added to the face paint. That’s why there’s this incredible sparkling effect when sunlight touches the vampires’ skin! Trust my dad to know details like that. He’s the smartest man I ever met.”

Stavros filed the information away. “Have you told him that lately?”

“All the time.”

“Lucky man.” Since Stavros’s father already believed he was the smartest man living, Stavros had never paid him such a compliment.

“I’m the lucky one to have a father like him.”

“You know what I think?”

She flicked him a curious glance.

“Despinis Linford is the smartest woman I ever met.”

“Hardly.” Another troubled sigh passed her lips. “Please. Call me Andrea.”

“Then I insist you call me Stavros.”

“The sign of the cross. A holy name.”

“My parents regret giving it to me. I’m afraid I’m the apololos provato of their brood.”

She turned her head to look at him. “You? The black sheep of the Konstantinos family? Why would you say such a thing?”

“Maybe because I choose to do things other than live up to my father’s dreams for me.”

“It sounds like you have dreams of your own and think for yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. You ought to wear it as a badge of courage rather than a curse.”

A curse. That was exactly what it had been like, but she made it sound like something to be proud of. A different way to look at himself? How did she manage to do that without even being aware of her power? The thought was daunting because he realized he could really care about her. That was a complication he didn’t need right now.

“You’re fortunate to have a father who approves of you.”

“You mean yours really doesn’t?”

“Afraid not.” His voice grated. “Your incredulity tells me how different our fathers are. In my whole life, we’ve rarely seen eye to eye on anything. Unless it’s his way, it isn’t right.”

“But you’re obviously successful!”

“Not in his eyes.”

“That’s horrible.” Her voice shook. “How painful for you.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Even so, I can hear the hurt in your voice deep down.” Her keen perception astounded him. She studied him for a minute. “For what it’s worth, I approve of you.”

“Why?”

“When we first met, you were ready to give me a full interrogation at the quarry. But after I introduced myself, you listened, and in your unique way, you apologized and let me look for Darren with you. I find that admirable and think I like you much better now.”

Andrea Linford, where did you come from?

Little did she know he already liked her to the point he was ready to carry her off to an unknown location where they could get to know each other for as long as they wanted, undisturbed by anything or one. It shocked him that he would entertain such a thought when he’d only just met her.