The Prince's Christmas Vow. Jennifer FayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
that had pulled to the curb near his limo. A tall, willowy brunette emerged from the blue-and-white taxi. She turned and leaned in the passenger window as she handed over the cab fare. If Demetrius didn’t know better, he’d swear that was his wife. But he refused to let his imagination get the best of him and upend this interview.
He turned back to Ms. Russo. “Residenza del Rosa is our first project. We will have it up and running by the beginning of the new year.”
“So you have plans for more than just the mansion?” Ms. Russo sent him an expectant look.
“Sì.” Demetrius swallowed hard and forced his thoughts back to business. “Residenza del Rosa is already well underway. As soon as we have the necessary funding secured, we will start on phase two, which will be to build affordable housing.” The clicking of heels caught his attention. He refused to be distracted. Security would handle it. “We intend to make the South Shore accessible to both the young and the young at heart. This area will once again be a robust community.”
The head of his security detail approached him. Demetrius held up a finger to pause the interview. The bodyguard leaned over and whispered in his ear. “It’s a Ms. Sarris. She has a pass and she says she works here. Should we let her through?”
“Oh, look.” Ms. Russo’s face lit up. Too late. She’d caught sight of Zoe. The reporter’s eyes sparkled as though she’d been given a special treat. “Isn’t that the interior designer, Zoe Sarris?”
Before answering the reporter, Demetrius gave an affirmative yet reluctant nod to his man to allow Zoe to join them. That woman certainly did have bad timing—first when she walked out on him just hours after saying “I do”—and now. How did she do it?
He could feel the reporter’s gaze on him. He cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s Miss Sarris.”
“I wonder what she’s doing here?” The reporter sent him a speculative look. “Did you arrange this?”
He resisted the urge to frown at the reporter’s fishing expedition as well as the fact that his estranged wife was about to crash his very important interview. “No. It appears she’s here to work. We’ve been lucky enough to obtain Ms. Sarris’s exclusive services to create a welcoming yet relaxing environment for the future residents of Residenza del Rosa.”
“And what features will it provide?”
“This long-term care home will be able to accommodate different levels of care from assisted living to skilled nursing.”
“And Ms. Sarris is here to make this mansion into the beauty it once was?”
“We’re hoping she’ll be able to take what is here and give it a fresh feel.”
“I’m sure she will. Is Miss Sarris signed on for the other buildings in the revitalization project?”
“Not at this point. We want to see how this first building goes and then we’ll reevaluate, figuring out what works and what doesn’t.”
Ms. Russo nodded in understanding. “How splendid that she can join us and give our viewers an idea of what she has in mind for the place. I’ve seen her work before and it’s fantastic. In fact, we can do before and after shoots of the mansion, both inside and out, with your permission of course.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Demetrius followed Ms. Russo’s gaze to the woman in question. Zoe’s clothing choice was nothing out of the ordinary, a short black skirt and a pink blouse. But on her, it looked fantastic as it nestled her curves perfectly—curves that he still knew by memory. She lifted her black sunglasses and then shook out her long dark curls before resting her shades atop her head like a hairband.
No matter what had gone down between them, there was no denying the obvious—she was a knockout. He should glance away—check his phone—continue the interview—anything but continue to stare at her.
Her legs were long, toned and tan. He couldn’t have turned away even if he’d have tried, which he had no inclination to do. It’d been months since he’d laid eyes on her. Visions of her in his dreams didn’t count—they couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing.
Zoe moved one strappy black high heel in front of the other. The classic ZZ Top song “Legs” started playing in his head. This girl definitely knew her strongest attributes and she worked them—no wonder he’d fallen for her hard and fast. Was it possible that she was even more gorgeous now than she had been when they’d met more than a year ago?
“It’s warm standing here in the sun. Perhaps we should move to the shade.” Ms. Russo signaled to her cameraman to take a break. “Prince Demetrius, are you all right?”
The concern in the reporter’s voice startled him out of the trance he’d fallen under. He drew a breath of air into his straining lungs. With effort, he turned his gaze from Zoe to the reporter who wore an inquisitive expression.
Not good, Demetrius. Not good at all. Stay focused.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I just remembered something that needs my attention. Let me just make a note of it.” He pulled out his phone and made the pretense of typing something while he got his brain screwed on straight.
The same question kept playing over and over in his mind. What in the world was Zoe doing here? Surely she hadn’t come to see him. No. That was impossible. His schedule was kept under wraps for security purposes. Even Ms. Russo had not been alerted to the location for this interview until this morning. So that still left the question of why Zoe had crashed this important interview?
Demetrius slipped his phone back in his jacket pocket. “Okay. Where were we?”
“I thought we might want to wait for Ms. Sarris to join us.”
Her comment had him instinctively turning back to the woman who’d gained the reporter’s attention. Zoe climbed the last two steps in those sky-high black heels that made her legs look as though they went on and on forever. His mouth grew dry and his palms became moist.
He should have had his men turn her away. How was he supposed to concentrate on the interview when all he wanted to do was confront Zoe?
He only had one question: Why?
Okay. So maybe he did have a couple more questions. Like, when did she start dressing like that? Were her skirts always so short? How was a man to make intelligent conversation when all he could think about was her bare, tanned legs?
Concentrate on the business at hand.
Every muscle in his body tensed. He couldn’t continue to stare at her. He didn’t want anyone to notice that he was affected by Zoe’s presence.
“Excuse me.” Zoe’s gaze didn’t quite meet his. “I didn’t know anyone would be here today. If it’s okay, I’ll just go inside and make some notes.”
“No problem.” Demetrius backed up to let her pass by.
“Wait.” Ms. Russo stepped in Zoe’s way. “Ms. Sarris, would you have a couple of minutes to speak with us?”
Zoe shook her head. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“You aren’t. In fact, I’d like to get a few quotes from you. But first I need to go track down my cameraman. He wanted to film a few frames of the mansion under construction.”
Demetrius waited until the reporter was out of earshot before turning to Zoe. “What are you doing here?”
“I already told you. I came to take notes.” Her steady gaze met his. “What are you doing here?”
Leave it to Zoe to question a prince. She never was one to be awed by someone’s position or power. To her, everyone put on their pants one leg at a time just like everyone else. Then again, that was one of the things he’d always admired about her. But suddenly, it wasn’t so admirable—suddenly she made him uncomfortable having