The Secret Kept from the Greek

by Susan Stephens

  Where could they discuss it?

  There was no approved course of action. All his experience had left him completely unprepared for this. He was encased in ice, preserved and separate, untouchable, unreachable—as Lizzie had complained he was all those years ago.

  He registered without emotion that this strange state of non-feeling stillness must be the calm before the storm. When he blew he would take everything with him.

  And then Thea stood up.

  At first he stared at her, as if she were an automaton in a museum, safe behind glass, and he was a visitor showing a passing interest in one of the exhibits. If he felt anything it was curiosity—that he could look at his daughter and not know what to feel.

  But then she lifted her bow and started to play.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MUSIC COULD TOUCH HIM. It always had been able to touch him. Thanks to his father’s passion, music had always played a huge part in his home-life when he’d been growing up. Music could unlock him, and now Thea had freed emotions inside him that he hadn’t even known were there.

  They must have been locked away for years as he drove forward with the business, allowing nothing to distract him. At the time he’d thought emotion a selfish indulgence and it had become a habit, he supposed. His focus had been all on working as hard as he could so his father could retire. It was only now, as Thea wove magic with her violin, that he realised how empty his life had become.

  His daughter was filling it—filling him—with emotion, until it threatened to overflow. The melody she was playing so skilfully was uncomplicated, but it tugged at his heart and forced a response from him. Eleven years he’d missed of this child’s life. Eleven years. Feeling her kick in the womb, seeing her born and holding her in his arms for the first time, celebrating her first birthday and the elation of watching as she took her first steps—all gone. Hearing her first words and encouraging her to stride out bravely on her first day at school—

  ‘Damon? Damon...?’

  Someone was shaking his shoulder, he realised, coming to fast. Feeling tears on his cheeks, he swiped them away.

  His aide dipped down to speak to him. ‘I’m sorry to break in on your private time,’ the man whispered, ‘but we have an emergency at one of the plants—a fire. It’s contained now, but we could do with your steer on to how to handle the aftermath.’

  ‘I’m with you,’ he said, getting up. His workers were another family to him, and almost as close as his own. Whatever they needed, he was there.

  Thea was family. Thea was his family.

  His stare met Thea’s as he rose from his seat. It was a magical split-second. Fate had dictated that she finish her solo just as he stood. Everyone was standing to applaud. He had hoped she wouldn’t notice him leaving. He might have known she would know immediately. She was his daughter, after all.

  She smiled at him—a smile that lit his world. It was innocent and happy and he smiled back, held his daughter’s open, trusting gaze, while the woman at his side—Lizzie—tugged at his arm repeatedly.

  He pulled away sharply. Her hand was an unwanted intrusion on his naked skin. Raising his hands to applaud Thea, he ignored his aide’s edginess and obvious desire to go. He could spare these few seconds to let Thea understand and see how deeply he had appreciated her performance.

  For each second he held eye contact with Thea he could feel Lizzie’s distress. Her tugs were becoming more insistent, and her voice, though it seemed to come from a long way away, was obviously distraught. But he couldn’t be distracted. His attention was centred on his daughter—as if in these few seconds he was making up for eleven years of separation.

  ‘Damon—’

  ‘I’m coming,’ he snapped at his aide.

  With one last long look at Thea, he moved into the aisle and strode away.

  * * *

  Lizzie sat in her seat motionless long after the other audience members had left. People moved past her. She barely registered them. She felt cloaked in doom, and it was a doom of her own making. Of all the ways for Damon to find about Thea, this had to be the worst. How must it have felt for him to be sitting next to his daughter’s mother, only to discover that the woman he had made love to was apparently as untrustworthy as her scumbag father?

  She had felt Damon quite literally shrink away from her. And she’d seen the look he’d given Thea. It had been the leader of the wolf pack acknowledging his cub. If the thought of a blood relationship between Damon and Thea hadn’t struck anyone else yet, it soon would. The ease between them, coupled with their incredible likeness, signalled their bond like a flashing beacon.

  Thea was a bright child. How long would it take her to work it out?

  Having never heard Thea express the need for a father, Lizzie began to wonder if that had been to save her feelings. They had been a team of two for ever, and now they were three—though not a team, and without any explanation from Lizzie.

  She found herself flinching when Thea came running down the aisle, swinging her violin case as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  And why should she?

  But everything was about to change for Thea. Remembering how that had felt for herself when she was eighteen—almost twice Thea’s age, with twice Thea’s experience of life—Lizzie shrank a little more inside.

  ‘Mama!’ Thea exclaimed. ‘Did you enjoy the concert?’ Thea was hopping from foot to foot, still fired up on adrenalin, when she reached Lizzie’s side. ‘Did you notice that note I got wrong?’

  ‘I only noticed that you played beautifully,’ Lizzie said honestly, on a throat so tight she could hardly breathe.

  ‘I played for you,’ Thea announced, throwing her arms around her mother to hug her tight.

  This was the wake-up call she needed, Lizzie realised. She wasn’t a useless mother. She was just a mother and she’d always done her best. She was a hostage for life, and she welcomed that knowledge. She’d no doubt get things wrong again in the future, but she’d always strive to put them right. She would never stop trying when it came to Thea.

  ‘I can’t wait to hear you play again,’ she said warmly when a few of Thea’s friends gathered round. ‘I think you’re amazing—all of you.’

  Lizzie’s heart melted when Thea turned a beaming smile on her friends, as if to say, This is my mother and she really gets us.

  ‘Love you, darling!’ Lizzie called out as Thea raced away with her friends.

  Glancing across the playing fields, Lizzie could see Thea and her group of friends gathering up a feast from the buffet, to carry off and eat beneath the shade of the olive trees. Sensing Lizzie was still staring at her, Thea turned and gestured vigorously that Lizzie must join them.

  Lizzie drew a deep breath and told herself firmly that whatever happened next she could deal with it. She had dealt with things for eleven years now, and would continue to do so. She would do anything to protect Thea.

  And Damon? What about him?

  She’d lost him before she’d had chance to know him. He could never be part of her life now—though he would surely be part of Thea’s. That would be up to Thea, Lizzie determined as she hurried across the parched playing field to join the children.

  ‘There he goes!’ Thea yelled, pointing to the sky as Lizzie approached.

  Shading her eyes, Lizzie stared up as the rhythmical thwack of a helicopter’s rotor blades passed overhead. Damon would be flying off to wherever he was needed most, she guessed.

  Guilt flooded her again. She’d worked so hard to get things right for Thea, and now she’d fallen at this, the last hurdle. She might never get the chance to speak to Damon again except through lawyers, and she had always planned to bring Thea and Damon together carefully, sensitively—anywhere but in a courtroom.

  She shuddered at the thought. There was no excuse, although
her reasons for not telling Damon sooner were complex and mostly rooted in the past. Believing he’d deserted her too, so soon after her father’s rejection, she’d vowed never to love again, never to risk her heart again—and she had kept that vow until Thea was born, when she had discovered a love so deep it had almost drowned her.

  Her father’s rejection, coming at such a vulnerable and hormonal time in Lizzie’s life, had left her with an overwhelming desire to protect Thea from that same pain.

  Looking back, she saw that the world her father had aspired to was shallow, and based on what people had in the bank rather than what they were really worth, and that in turn had left her with a lifelong suspicion of wealth. She knew deep down that Damon was a different kind of rich, and that he’d not only worked hard for everything he’d got but had done good with that money. But the glamorous world he inhabited still troubled her. She would never belong in a world like that—though in time Thea might, Lizzie allowed.

  ‘Okay...’ Thea looked up expectantly at her mother.

  ‘Okay, what?’ Lizzie asked lightly, pinning a smile to her face.

  ‘Do. You. Like. Him?’ Thea asked, testing her facial muscles to their limit. ‘Damon Gavros,’ she explained impatiently. ‘I saw him sitting next to you. We all did,’ Thea added, grinning as she gazed around at her friends.

  So now she had an audience. Lizzie’s stomach sank. She shrugged and smiled through it. ‘Of course I like him. What’s not to like?’

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ Thea said. ‘Because he’s on his way over—’

  ‘What?’ Lizzie’s world tilted as she swung around in panic.

  Damon was not supposed to be here. He’d just flown away in his helicopter.

  ‘We’re all thrilled you like him,’ Thea said, her voice penetrating Lizzie’s fog of incomprehension, ‘because we need ice cream and we’re hoping he’ll buy some.’

  If only life were that simple, Lizzie thought. She almost laughed. Impending hysteria, she guessed. It took a child to point out the obvious. There was ice cream, and there was a man with enough money to buy each of them a serving. Damon was no more complex or disturbing than that as far as Thea was concerned.

  And long may it remain that way, Lizzie thought.

  ‘Why don’t you stay here with your friends while I go and see what he says to your suggestion?’ she offered.

  ‘Not he—Damon,’ Thea insisted. ‘You have to use his name if you stand a hope of getting close to him.’

  ‘Right...’ Lizzie pressed her lips together in a thin smile.

  She had no chance of getting close to Damon, but now wasn’t the time to disillusion Thea. There was no more time to waste. She had to head him off before he reached them and Thea sensed that something was wrong.

  ‘Damon—Damon Gavros!’ Thea called after her. ‘He has the same name as this island. You can’t forget it.’

  She would never forget it, since it was gouged on her heart, Lizzie thought as she called back to Thea, ‘Back soon. Sit tight and I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Not too soon!’ Thea yelled after her. ‘We’ve got stuff to do...so you’ve got the whole evening with Damon. See you tomorrow!’

  As the children’s giggles rose behind her Lizzie knew she had to make things right before they got a lot worse. She had to reach a compromise with Damon if they weren’t going to end up fighting each other through every court in the land. Though how she was supposed to fight Damon Gavros and his legal team, she had no idea.

  Not yet, Lizzie thought, firming her jaw, but when it came to Thea she’d fight to the death.

  * * *

  He was feeling icy calm as he strode across the field towards Lizzie. Business could do that for him. He could always see the way ahead where his work was concerned. It cleared his head when other areas of his life were complicated. He had given precise instructions to his aide so the fallout after the fire would be dealt with. Everyone would receive the care and compensation they deserved. He wouldn’t stint. He never did where family was concerned.

  And now for Lizzie, who was coming to meet him, diverting him away from the group of children—which was just as well. When they were a few feet apart he jerked his head to suggest she follow him. He noticed Thea was watching, and smiled for her benefit.

  The multinational conglomerate he controlled with such ease was nothing compared to the complexities of human relationships, he decided. This was the minefield, right here. He felt no animosity towards Lizzie. He felt nothing. But his mind was made up. The direction they would take from here was clear. Lizzie might have procrastinated for eleven years, but making fast decisions based on the evidence in front of him had always been his forte.

  He led the way to his helicopter and noticed the moment when realisation struck Lizzie. Damon had two helicopters. In fact he had a fleet of helicopters. He never knew when he or one of his executives would need to move fast. He had never needed to move faster than he did now.

  He opened the passenger door and made sure Lizzie was settled before helping her to fasten her harness and explaining how her headphones worked. There was no tension or anger in his voice. There was nothing. Lizzie’s face paled, as if she found his manner more chilling than if he’d raged at her.

  The short flight brought them above his beach house. It was here that the future would be spelled out.

  * * *

  A kaleidoscope of images flashed through Lizzie’s panicked mind as the helicopter hovered over Damon’s spectacular beach house—or mansion, as Lizzie thought of it. The contrast of the simple home she’d made for Thea with this, and with all Damon’s other homes across the world, was painfully stark.

  She could get a sense of perspective through the clear floor of the helicopter beneath her feet... The carefully cultivated gardens, the Olympic-size swimming pool and the tennis courts beyond. There was even a putting green. Ivory sand fringed the bright blue ocean in front of the house, and she could see Damon’s cutting-edge powerboat rolling gently on the lazy waves.

  Compare that to a grimy London street and a front door that opened on to someone else’s hallway and it was no wonder her heart was beating in double time.

  And it wasn’t just Damon’s possessions or his way of life that she found so threatening, but his super-keen intelligence and innate skill. Damon might say he’d had advantages, and he had, but he’d taken them, and transformed his father’s business into a stratospheric success. Some people took a bus to work, while others—like Damon—handled a helicopter with the same ease as a compact car, she mused as the sleek craft settled seamlessly on its skids.

  What would Damon make of their daughter’s obsession with thrift shops? Lizzie wondered as Damon came around to help her out. Would he understand that Thea needed to express her quirky side with things she couldn’t find on the High Street? Or would he think that Lizzie’s lack of financial resources had condemned Thea to wearing second-hand clothes? Would he understand anything about Thea?

  Was it wrong and selfish of Lizzie to think, Thea is my baby? Was it wrong to look down at Damon’s capable hands as he freed her harness and refuse to acknowledge that this man had played an equal part in the creation of their child?

  Thea is the child I carried in my belly, and then on my hip, and always, always in my heart, Lizzie thought as Damon walked ahead of her.

  But he could offer Thea so much more than she could. Thea had to confine her violin practice to one hour a day in London when she was at home, or they would have to find somewhere else to live. That was what the owners of the house had told Lizzie. How many music studios could Thea have in a house like this?

  Sparkling white granite chippings crunched beneath their feet as they walked up the elegant path towards the front door. Everywhere she looked was something amazing...the vast planting arrangements at each side of the door, the banks of flo
wers below the windows, all immaculately groomed.

  Damon could easily afford to buy any priceless violin Thea set her heart on, Lizzie thought as he inserted a code into the panel at the side of the door and it swung open. She had to work three jobs just to pay for the extra sheet music Thea needed for school.

  By the time the door opened she had worked herself up into a real state. Damon had all the power in the world. She had none. He had a legal team at his beck and call. She didn’t even have enough money to call a lawyer in England from Greece.

  Was she about to lose Thea?

  No! Lizzie thought fiercely. Not while she had breath in her body.

  She walked into the vaulted hallway and stared around numbly. Whatever she had expected Damon’s new house to be like, this was so much more. The space, the light, the air, the simple luxury surrounding her... It was all extremely tasteful, with décor in a palette of soft neutral shades. And it was empty—as if waiting for someone to move in and imbue it with life.

  * * *

  This was not the way he had imagined it would be when he brought Lizzie into his new home for the first time. They had only looked at it from the beach before, because—ironically—they’d had to get back for Thea’s concert. Fresh from making love to Lizzie, he’d had the crazy notion of sweeping her into his arms and carrying her across the threshold. And then they’d make love on every surface in the house.

  Not this time.

  He led the way into a lavishly equipped but as yet unoccupied study. The room was spectacular. A wall of glass faced the electric blue bay, and the desk was a long, plain piece of wood, its only ornament a computer. The surface of the desk was as smooth as glass. He’d planned, prepped and planed it himself, finishing it with beeswax.

  As Lizzie ran her fingertips over the surface he remembered the pleasure he’d had making it, the simple joy of working with his hands. Creating things like the desk allowed him to escape the rattle of business for a while and just be. Simplicity in all things always gave him pleasure. Honesty did the same.