Abby Green - The Virgin's Secret (2009)

 

Leo Parnassus has returned to Athens to head the family empire. A New Yorker since childhood, he finds life is certainly different here with family feuds and expectations to marry and produce heirs! Amid all this tradition, the beautiful girl who catches Leo's eye is a welcome distraction.

She may be a lowly waitress, but Angel has her secrets.. Leo will be pleased to discover she's a virgin, but not that she's the daughter of his adversary! Or that, in nine months, there will be one more secret revealed.

Read Excerpt :

I’ll han­dle it. Those fa­tal­is­tic words still re­ver­ber­at­ed in An­gel’s head a week lat­er. She’d gone to speak with Stavros’ fa­ther her­self, to try and re­mon­strate with him, but he hadn’t even deigned to see her. It couldn’t have been made clear­er that they were so­cial out­casts.
 

‘Kas­sian­ides!’
 

Abrupt­ly An­gel was pulled out of her spi­ralling black thoughts when her

boss called her name. It must have been the sec­ond or third time, judg­ing by the im­pa­tience on his face.
 

‘When you can join us back on earth, go down to the pool and make sure it’s com­plete­ly clear and that the tea lights are set out on the ta­bles.’
 

She stut­tered an apol­ogy and fled. In all hon­esty An­gel’s pre­oc­cu­pa­tion had been dis­tract­ing her from some­thing much more pan­ic- in­duc­ing and stress­ful. Al­most too stress­ful to con­tem­plate.
 

She was here at the Par­nas­sus vil­la, high in the hills of Athens, to wait­ress at a par­ty that was be­ing thrown for Leonidas Par­nas­sus, the son of Geor­gios Par­nas­sus. Ev­ery­one was buzzing about the fact that he might be about to take over the fam­ily busi­ness and what a coup it would be, Leo Par­nas­sus hav­ing be­come a mul­ti­mil­lion­aire en­trepreneur in his own right.
 

It hit her again as she hur­ried down the steps that were ex­pert­ly over­grown with ex­trav­agant­ly flow­er­ing bougainvil­lea. She was in the Par­nas­sus vil­la, the home of the fam­ily who hat­ed hers with a pas­sion.
 

For a sec­ond she stopped in her tracks, a hand go­ing to her breast as an in­tense pain tight­ened in her chest. This was the ab­so­lute worst place she could be in the world. For a sec­ond she felt hys­te­ria ris­ing at the irony of it. She, An­gel Kas­sian­ides, was about to serve drinks to the crème de la crème of Athens, right un­der the Par­nas­sus­es nose. The thought of what her fa­ther would do if he could see her now made her break out in a cold sweat.
 

She bit her lip and forced her­self to go on, breath­ing a sigh of re­lief when she had a quick look around the pool area and saw no one. The guests hadn’t start­ed to ar­rive yet and, though there were some stay­ing at the vil­la, An­gel knew that they’d be get­ting ready. There was no rea­son for any­one to be by the pool, but still…an un­easy prick­ling skat­ed over her skin.
 

She hadn’t been able to avoid com­ing here tonight. She and her wait­er col­leagues had been halfway to their se­cret des­ti­na­tion in a packed minibus be­fore it had been re­vealed, for ‘se­cu­ri­ty rea­sons’. An­gel knew well that if she’d bailed out of this evening her boss would have sacked her on the spot. He’d sacked peo­ple for less in his pres­ti­gious cater­ing com­pa­ny. She couldn’t af­ford for that to hap­pen—not when her in­come was the on­ly thing help­ing put her sis­ter through col­lege and keep­ing food on their ta­ble.

She tried to re­as­sure her­self: her boss was En­glish, re­cent­ly moved to Athens with his En­glish/Greek wife. He knew noth­ing of the sig­nif­icance of who An­gel was, nor her scan­dalous con­nec­tion to the Par­nas­sus fam­ily. She bus­ied her­self plac­ing out the tea lights in their an­tique sil­ver hold­ers in the mid­dle of the white damask- cov­ered ta­bles, and sent up fer­vent thanks that, tonight of all nights, not one of the oth­er staff were lo­cal. Things were so busy at the mo­ment that her boss had had to call in their part- time work­ers, and they were all ei­ther for­eign or from out­side Athens.
 

Her on­ly fear now was that some­one at the par­ty might recog­nise her. But, know­ing these peo­ple as she did, she’d no doubt that in her uni­form of black skirt and white shirt they’d not take a sec­ond look at her. She wor­ried her lip again. Per­haps she could just stay in the kitchen and get the trays to­geth­er and avoid— 

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