Santorini Sunsets Read Free

exclaimed, glancing at his tan arms and legs. “You look like you’ve been doing a pretty good job of breathing. Let me guess, you’ve been running around Europe as a tour guide or a gigolo.”
    â€œI’m glad you think my performance in the bedroom was worth money but I don’t think I’d be suited to romance wealthy women. I’m sure I’d say something to offend them.” Nathaniel smiled. “My parents cut me off because they thought I was wasting my life, so I’ve been freelancing for newspapers and magazines. I moved to London and it suits me. It’s easier to be depressed when the sky is gray and you have to eat sausage rolls and meat pies.”
    â€œI don’t have time to discuss your emotional well-being, I have to get ready for a party.” Brigit blinked back sudden tears. “Please leave or I’ll tell Blake to remove you and your friend.”
    â€œThat would be tricky.” Nathaniel’s face broke into a smile. “It’s your fiancé who invited us.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Brigit demanded. “Blake would never invite my ex-husband to our wedding.”
    â€œYou’re getting that peaked look you used to get when you skipped breakfast.” Nathaniel frowned. “Let’s go inside and feed you some scrambled eggs and bacon, then I’ll tell you how Robbie and I arrived in Santorini.” Nathaniel stopped and looked at the man with dark hair and large brown eyes. “The terrible thing about living alone is I’ve completely forgotten my manners. Robbie, this is the soon-to-be head of one of New York’s most prominent charity foundations, Brigit Palmer.”
    â€œHow did you know about my new position?” Brigit asked.
    â€œI keep track.” Nathaniel entered the villa and put his hat on a mahogany end table. He glanced at the mosaic ceilings and plaster walls and thick burgundy curtains. He saw the crystal chandeliers and oak floors and worn Oriental carpets. He walked to the bar and filled a shot glass with vodka. He handed it to Brigit and whistled.
    â€œYou couldn’t have picked a more authentic setting for a Greek wedding.” He examined a painting in a gilt frame. “Any minute I expect a singing waiter to appear from the kitchen with a platter of grilled eggplant and hummus and a bottle of ouzo. Then the director will yell ‘cut’ and the bride and groom will leave on a bicycle with cans rattling behind them.”
    â€œThat was a scene from Mamma Mia!, we saw it at the Roxy in the East Village,” Brigit murmured. “Blake had nothing to do with picking the villa. My mother and I found it in the back of Town & Country .”
    â€œI’m glad to hear Sydney is still reading Town & Country .” Nathaniel admired a marble bust. “She might want to add HELLO! to her subscription list.”
    â€œMy mother would never read HELLO! ” Brigit replied. “It’s as bad as People .”
    â€œShe might,” Nathaniel mused. “If her daughter was on the cover.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Brigit gasped, fiddling with her gold necklace.
    â€œI got a call from Winston Powell, the editor-in-chief last week,” Nathaniel continued. “He read my piece on Carla Bruni’s marriage to Nicholas Sazorky in Paris Match .”
    â€œHow can you write for those magazines?” Brigit interrupted. “They have no respect for people’s privacy, they’ll print anything that sells copies.”
    â€œYou’ve never bought a sweater for warmth rather than if it matched your Burberry jacket.” Nathaniel raised his eyebrow. “Your standards drop quickly when your flat doesn’t have central heating and the space heater sounds like it has a death rattle.”
    â€œYou could have stayed in the apartment,” Brigit said quietly. “Your parents bought it for us.”
    â€œAs a