Greek Mavericks: The Greek's Unforgettable Secret

‘I don’t feel sorry for you. I admire you,’ Damon insisted.

‘Well, that sounds a little bit patronising.’

He seemed surprised. ‘I apologise if you think that, because it’s the last thing I intended. I do admire you, and I think it’s great that you—’

‘Survived?’ she supplied edgily.

‘I think you’ve done more than that, haven’t you?’ he argued. ‘I was going to say that you’ve got great friends, and a life you enjoy, so nothing else should matter.’

‘I’m glad you see it that way.’ She was determined to move on to safer ground—which meant switching the spotlight to Damon. ‘And you’ve done very well for yourself too,’ she said dryly. ‘Understatement,’ she added with a grin.

His lips pressed down as he shrugged. ‘I had a strong family behind me all the way. And I took over an existing business with an excellent reputation.’

That Lizzie’s father had almost destroyed.

‘Stop,’ he warned, reading her. ‘No one, least of all me, blames you for your father’s crimes. The only thing that does puzzle me,’ he admitted, ‘is that you always had what it took to get ahead, but for some reason it hasn’t worked out for you as well as I expected. Obviously I’m curious to know why.’

She brushed his remark aside with a casual gesture, though everything inside her had tightened in a knot. ‘I wouldn’t waste your time investigating me.’

He huffed a laugh, but she didn’t kid herself that this was over. Damon’s interest in her life over the past eleven years had been well and truly stirred, and he wouldn’t let go now. Nothing would satisfy him but a full explanation.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed,’ he said in excuse, ‘you interest me. No one had ever taken me on as you did outside that courtroom. You were only just eighteen and, apart from your fair-weather friends, you were on your own. I was older, surrounded by family and a legal team, but nothing stopped you. There’s nothing wrong with asserting your rights and showing loyalty to your family—that’s something I really get. You were right to stand your ground—and right to rage at me. I was a bastard.’

‘You admit it?’ Amusement cut through her anxiety for a few moments. ‘Maybe there’s hope for you yet.’

She should have known that Damon would take advantage of this lighter mood. He jumped straight on it.

‘So, are you going to tell me what happened to the promises you made to yourself about developing your painting and your cooking, and all those other dreams?’

‘What is it they say about promises?’ she countered. ‘Aren’t they like pie crusts, made to be broken?’

Damon’s gaze sharpened on her face. ‘If there’s one thing I won’t believe it’s that you gave up your dreams easily. There must be something big you’re not telling me.’

‘There is,’ she agreed. ‘It’s called life.’

He looked at her sceptically.

‘Life moves on, Damon, and we have to move with it.’

Eleven years of fighting, with her only goal being to make a good life for Thea. Her goal remained the same today, and it didn’t allow for dreams.

‘That’s enough,’ he declared, swinging her into his arms. ‘I won’t send you back with a frown on your face.

She laughed. It was such a relief to escape the dangerous topic.

Damon carried her across the shells to the sea so they could swim back to the boat. She exhaled raggedly when he set her down at the water’s edge and his hands skimmed her breasts. She stared into his eyes, wondering if it was wrong to feel this happy, and if she’d be made to pay. If happiness was an indulgence she didn’t deserve she was going to be in debt for the rest of her life, because she was drowning in the stuff.

She sucked in a breath as Damon’s hands touched her breasts. ‘Your breasts are fuller than I remember. And your nipples are a deeper, rosier pink—’

Pregnancy, she thought, immediately tensing. She was right not to count on happiness lasting. It hadn’t even made it back to the boat.

‘I’m older,’ she dismissed with a shrug.

He huffed a laugh. ‘So old,’ he agreed dryly, adding, ‘You never could take a compliment, could you, Lizzie?’

As Damon stared into her eyes, as if searching for the truth he knew she was hiding, she grew increasingly anxious. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, worrying about Thea, worrying about Damon, worrying about everything…

‘Time enough,’ he soothed, running his fingertips down her cheek to her lips. ‘We’ll be back before two. We can see the house another time. I blame you for being so irresistible.’

As he took Lizzie’s face between his hands he felt her tremble. His fingers ploughed into her hair, his thumbs caressed her jawbone just below her ears, but she couldn’t be soothed and when he kissed her he felt tears on her face.

He blamed himself. He’d been so busy driving forward after the trial, trying to make everything right again for his father, that he hadn’t spared a thought for Lizzie, and now he could only imagine what she’d been through.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered as her shoulders shook beneath his hands. ‘This is my fault. The way I treated you was—’

‘No. Please don’t say that,’ she argued fiercely. ‘You’re a good man, Damon. If your father hadn’t spoken up mine would have destroyed even more people. I didn’t want to see his faults then, but I can see them now.’

‘We should get back,’ he murmured.

‘Yes,’ she said, staring into his eyes.

Damon’s kisses were drugging reminders of a time she would never forget. His body pressed against hers was a reminder her of how safe she felt in his arms. Fate was cruel—acting as if they were meant to be together, meant to have had Thea, meant to meet again in Stavros’s restaurant and here on the island. Fate was taunting them, she suspected.

Damon pulled away first and glanced out to sea at the powerboat in a silent signal that their idyll was over. They both had to return to their lives and to reality, and to all the problems that lay ahead of them.

Lifting her chin, she said, ‘I’m ready if you are.’

The first thing she did when they were back on the powerboat was check the clock, to make sure she would be in good time to catch the local bus to Thea’s concert. She felt embarrassed when Damon caught her looking, and wondered if he thought she was trying to hurry the time away.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly.

He made a sound of acknowledgement, but there was plenty to do as he prepared the powerboat for leaving, and no more time for conversation. Not that there was anything left to say—not before she’d spoken to Thea.

He was frustrated by Lizzie’s reluctance to admit that there was something troubling her. She trusted him enough to have sex with him, but not enough to allow him to help her. What could be that bad?

After eleven years he would have been more surprised if they didn’t have things to tell each other, but if it was another man, and that was why she couldn’t say anything, then she was no better than her father. He refused to believe that of her.

He should have asked her straight out—would have done if they had devoted more time to talking and less time to sex. He might expect the Greek community to close around her, but why hadn’t Stavros said something? Why hadn’t Iannis? Didn’t they trust him either?

He respected their silence—he was forced to admit that. He just hated being in the dark, and apart from hearing third-hand while he was in the desert that Lizzie’s father had died in prison, and that her stepmother was living with another man, he knew next to nothing about those eleven years where Lizzie was concerned.

They had an uneventful journey back to the other side of the island. They disembarked, exchanged the usual pleasantries, and then he drove her to the door of the restaurant. But everything had changed; she was tense now.

‘Thank you,’ she exclaimed with relief. ‘You said you had somewhere to be too? I hope I haven’t made you late?’

He shrugged. ‘A visit to my parents’ home to discuss the last-minute arrangements for my father’s party can be delayed as long as it needs to be.’

She glanced at him with concern. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Don’t be late. Go,’ he insisted.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said, turning to give him one last rabbit-in-the-headlights smile.

He ground his jaw at the knowledge that whatever had brought bold and feisty Lizzie back to him it had now, for reasons unknown, taken her away again.

He kept the engine purring in neutral long enough to see her disappear inside the restaurant, and then his phone rang just as he was about to drive away.

‘No problem,’ he told his father, who had asked if Damon would mind delaying their meeting.

‘You can go and listen to the orchestra instead of me, and give me a report,’ his father suggested.

‘I’d love to,’ he said dryly.

Maybe music could ‘soothe a savage breast’, he reflected, thinking about Lizzie and the secret she found so hard to share with him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

IANNIS HAD PROMISED Lizzie that she could set her watch by the local bus. And so it proved to be. She got off the bus outside the school grounds where Thea was due to play that afternoon with ample time to spare.

She took a moment to smooth her lovely yellow dress and her hair. Her old lady dress, Lizzie thought, smiling as she remembered what Thea had said. It was a beautiful dress, made all the more lovely by the thought behind it. It had been a long time since Lizzie had worn anything but jeans and a top, or a server’s uniform, and she wanted Thea to know how much the gift of a dress meant to her.

The school was set in a picturesque valley between lush, vine-covered hills. It thrilled Lizzie to think that Thea’s talent had brought her to such a beautiful place. Set like a jewel in an aquamarine sea, the island boasted shady olive groves and sparkling rivers and, though it was hot today, there was a covered awning to keep both audience and performers cool.

Nothing had been overlooked. Refreshments had been set out on trestle tables, and it promised to be a wonderful afternoon. Excitement gripped Lizzie as she anticipated another performance. This one was more of a rehearsal, and that, together with knowing that Damon was visiting his parents allowed her to relax and enjoy the fact that Thea Floros—as Thea was known now, having taken Lizzie’s mother’s name—would be the star soloist today.

Lizzie glowed with pride as she joined the line of parents waiting to take their seats. When at last the gates to the school opened and everyone filed in Lizzie only wished she were taller, so she could be the first to catch sight of Thea. For now she had to be content with shuffling along at a snail’s pace, walled in by a platoon of parents, but then people finally started sitting down and she could see the children.

‘Eísai entáxei. Megáli chaméni efkairía?’

‘Are you all right?’ someone translated for Lizzie as she swayed.

She caught hold of a nearby chair for support.

‘It must be the heat,’ she excused. ‘I don’t see this much sun in London, but thank you for your concern.’

The kindness of strangers couldn’t help her now. How could Thea be talking to Damon? He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be visiting his parents. And Thea wasn’t just chatting to him, as a child might talk politely to a stranger who had expressed an interest in her music, she was laughing with him as if they were old friends.

Two dark heads with the same thick, wavy black hair. Two sets of laughing brown eyes. Two tanned faces with features so similar, so strong, and both so beautiful.

Thea had said something that had made Damon shove his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, throw his head back and laugh. Lizzie felt the chill of exclusion. What could they be saying to each other? How much did Damon know?

Worse! How much did Thea know?

She had never seen Damon looking so relaxed, or Thea so happy. Theirs was such an unexpected rapport it frightened her. It had always been just the two of them before. Thea and Lizzie… Lizzie and Thea. But now the likeness between father and daughter was startling.

Seeing them together for the first time was the most unnerving experience of Lizzie’s life. It wasn’t just that Damon’s full-blooded Greek genes had prevailed over Lizzie’s part-Greek, part-Celtic mix, but the fact was that anyone could see that Damon and Thea were father and daughter. Could Damon see it too? Could Thea?

She stood motionless, watching, numb with shock. It was too late to do anything properly now. The moment had come and gone, and watching Thea and Damon together stirred new fears. How quickly Lizzie’s father had lost interest in her, once his life had changed. She’d been determined to protect Thea from that. But now she wondered if she’d been over-protective. Had she got everything wrong?

Both Damon and Thea had cause to hate her. And she’d done that all on her own. Damon’s first thought would be to protect Thea. Could she blame him for that? How could she, when Lizzie had kept Thea from her father? Would Thea be angry? Would Thea reject Lizzie in favour of the man who could give her so much more? And would it be right for Lizzie to stand in Thea’s way if that was what Thea wanted?

She had to remain calm, Lizzie concluded. She could not go to pieces now. She’d been strong for eleven years, and if ever there was a time to be strong it was now. She couldn’t move at the moment anyway. There were people blocking her way. All she could do was stand and watch Thea and Damon, wondering if she could have done something differently or better.

Shame. That was what she felt most. She should have found a way to tell them both the truth long before now.

And then, as if Lizzie and Thea were joined by some magical cord, Thea looked up and saw her.

Calling out, ‘Mama! Mama!’ at the top of her voice, she came running full pelt towards Lizzie.

‘Mama!’ Thea gasped when she reached Lizzie’s side. ‘You must come and meet my new friend, Damon Gavros! Okay—you stay there,’ she said when Lizzie remained unresponsive. ‘Save him a seat and I’ll make sure he sits next to you. I’ve lined him up for a date with you later. I told him how beautiful you are—’

Racing away again, Thea retraced her steps and re-joined her friends in the orchestra.

Could a heart break and shatter into pieces? When Lizzie saw Damon’s face she felt sure it could.

‘Come with me,’ Damon said when he reached her side.

He spoke quietly, but in a tone so hostile that everyone around them turned to stare.

‘I can’t—the concert’s about to begin.’ Lizzie glanced at the stage where Thea was sitting.

Thea was her anchor. She couldn’t move.

‘You can and you will come with me,’ Damon assured her. ‘The children don’t play their pieces until after the speeches of welcome, and what I have to say to you won’t take long.’

She couldn’t make a scene—not here, of all places. Thea was sneaking glances at Lizzie to see how her matchmaking was working out. The last thing Lizzie wanted was to give Thea anything to worry about just before her concert began.

‘Okay,’ she agreed.

Smiling and waving at Thea, she indicated how long she’d be with five fingers held up.

Thea’s smile was so broad and her eyes were so bright with hope that Lizzie knew she’d never felt so ashamed in her life as she walked away with Damon. There was disappointing your child, and then there was completely betraying her.

Damon ushered her ahead of him inside the school, where they would have some privacy. It was cool after the heat of the sun, and deserted. Their footsteps echoed on the tiled floor as he led the way into a classroom.

Closing the door, he leaned back against it, trapping them inside the empty room. ‘When were you going to tell me?’

When Thea knew, of course.

She raised her chin to confront a man she barely recognised. Damon had pitched his voice low, but it was harsh with shock and anger. She stood about six feet away, with nothing to hang on to except her determination to try and do the right thing.

‘I planned to tell you as soon as I had explained to Thea that you were back in our lives.’ And then another horrible thought struck her. ‘Have you told Thea?’

‘Do you think I’m mad?’ Damon’s eyes flared with rage. ‘How could you think I’d do something like that?’

‘Because I don’t know you—’ That was true. She didn’t know the man he had become. ‘It’s been a long time, Damon.’

‘A very long time,’ he agreed in a voice turned to ice.

Remembering Thea’s happy face the moment she’d spotted Lizzie, waiting to take her seat, Lizzie knew she was overreacting in this instance, and that neither Damon nor Thea had made any connection between them until Thea had run up to Lizzie. Then Damon must have known.

‘And in all that very long time you couldn’t find the right moment to tell me that we had a child?’

He was incredulous. And furious. But she was armed too. ‘It wasn’t all about you, Damon.’

‘Or you,’ he fired back. ‘Was a child so unimportant you just forgot to mention it?’

‘Thea—not a child. And there is nothing more important to me than Thea.’

‘How about giving me a chance to feel the same?’ he suggested cuttingly.

Damon was incandescent with fury, but she hadn’t expressed her feelings for almost eleven years. She hadn’t had that luxury. She’d been too busy being a mother and keeping food on the table, a roof over their heads.

‘I had a lot going on,’ she said, battling to rein herself in. ‘When I did try to contact you, your people blocked me, and I didn’t have the resources to keep on trying to call. And even if I had…’ She shrugged angrily. ‘What would you have done?’

His jaw ground tensely. ‘I wouldn’t have been as insensitive as you.’

‘Insensitive?’ Lizzie clenched her fists. ‘This from the man who turned his back on me after the court case, in spite having slept with me the night before? No doubt you’d washed your hands of everything to do with my family by that time. You’d got your victory, so everything else—including me—was done and dusted.’

‘I moved on—as you did,’ Damon countered coldly.

‘I moved on because I had to. I didn’t have a home to go to. You walked away without a backward glance.’ Her shoulders lifted tensely. ‘You didn’t care what happened to me after the court case.’

‘You weren’t my responsibility,’ Damon said coldly, and with a good deal of truth.

‘Correct,’ Lizzie agreed. ‘But you can be quick to help those you want to, can’t you Damon? You just couldn’t see beyond bedding me, and you certainly didn’t care about me, did you? So don’t you dare come back now and start accusing me of handling things badly. We both made mistakes—’

‘You can’t turn this around on me.’

‘Why not?’ Lizzie challenged. ‘You walked away.’

‘There was nothing to walk away from.’

With a shake of her head, she laughed angrily. ‘Exactly. All I am to you—all I ever was—is a one-night stand.’

‘And you had so much going on in your life that letting me know you were expecting my child came well down the list.’

‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ Lizzie exclaimed. ‘I didn’t have your resources. I was thrown out of my childhood home with just the clothes I stood up in. I didn’t have any money. I certainly didn’t have a phone. I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from, let alone whether I could manage to put a roof over my head. And at that stage, Damon, you were the last person I’d have thought of calling. Why would I, when you’d made no attempt to find me?

‘I had no one to rely on but myself—and don’t think for one moment that I’m complaining, because it was a good thing. Being alone taught me self-reliance and helped me to be a better mother for Thea. It made me strong and determined, and I learned that if I took one step at a time I could survive—I could put a roof over my head and I could care for my baby. Those were the only things that mattered to me—not you, nor me. Beyond keeping healthy for Thea’s sake, the only thing I cared about—still care about and always will care about—is Thea.’

‘You should have come to me,’ he ground out.

‘Should I?’ she demanded. ‘If I could have found you, do you mean? After I’d repeatedly contacted your people and been turned away I made one attempt to appeal to my stepmother, one woman to another. I told her I was pregnant and begged her to help me find you. She laughed in my face and told me never to return. She couldn’t have a slut damaging her reputation, she said. Yes, it was a slap in the face,’ Lizzie agreed, ‘but it pulled me together fast and I managed very well without her—and without you too. It didn’t take me long to learn that I was better on my own.’

‘You didn’t give me the chance,’ Damon said with a shake of his head. ‘You didn’t give me the chance to know my child. And, yes, I was away for a lot of the time, but since I came back I’ve taken you out twice, and yet you never hinted that we had a daughter together. Do you have an explanation for that?’

‘Yes, I do. Thea had to know first. I was protecting her. And if you can’t see that then you’re not fit to call yourself her father. That’s the difference between you and me,’ she added. ‘You have all the power and money in the world, and I have nothing, but when it comes to Thea you won’t get past me.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure. I have rights,’ he said.

‘You have no rights,’ Lizzie argued, feeling calmer.

‘I… I have no rights?’

Damon almost laughed—as well he might. A man who could command anything that money could buy, would find it difficult, if not impossible, to conceive that there was something on this earth he couldn’t have.

Lizzie felt as if ice had invaded her veins, but nothing would stop her when she was in defence of her child, and Damon had to hear this. ‘You have no rights because there’s no father listed on Thea’s birth certificate.’

‘A DNA test would soon establish my rights as Thea’s father,’ he said confidently.

‘If I allowed such a test to take place.’ Lizzie lifted her chin. ‘The fact that your name doesn’t appear on Thea’s birth certificate means that you have no legal rights over Thea unless I allow you to.’

‘I’ll fight you every way I can,’ Damon threatened, frowning.

‘Again?’ Lizzie said quietly. ‘Before you deploy your legal team, you should know this. Thea doesn’t want to know her father. She never has. She asked me to stop talking about him because we were all right as we were, and she didn’t want some mystery man entering her life.’

‘She might change her mind if she knew it was me.’

Damon’s voice was so cold it chilled her.

A burst of applause drew their attention to the window. The conductor was mounting the stage.

‘I have to go.’ She turned for the door. Damon remained where he was. She hesitated with her hand on the door handle. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she drew in a breath and then turned back to face him. ‘You should hear her play. You’ll regret it if you don’t.’

She walked out of the room and didn’t stop until she was outside the school. She felt as if she were suffocating, and gulped in air. There was no one behind her…no sound…no footsteps…no Damon.

He was incapable of feeling anything—numb, existing on autopilot. He was breathing, maybe. He stood in the silence of an empty room until the first swell of music from the youth orchestra prompted him to act.