The Secret Kept from the Greek

by Susan Stephens

  ‘Why don’t you take a look?’ she suggested.

  She’d been starved for too long, Lizzie realised, as Damon continued to move deep inside her and she continued to bask in oblivion, where sensation ruled—or was that to hide?—

  Again? Really? Was again even possible?

  It was, she discovered, wailing as she fell.

  This time it was so intense, and lasted so long, she might even have lost consciousness for a few moments. When she came round it was to find Damon still moving steadily and deeply, his big, slightly roughened hands locked firmly as he kept her in position for each firm thrust.

  ‘Don’t do anything,’ he commanded in a low, husky tone. ‘Don’t move at all. Relax every muscle and let me do all the work.’

  She did as he asked and was rewarded with pleasure. Clearly seeing it in her eyes, Damon smiled fiercely against her mouth, and as he kissed her he rotated his hips, keeping them tightly locked together, and she fell again.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked when she was finally able to speak.

  Pulling out completely, Damon thrust deeply again, with a groan of satisfaction, and a few firm, fast strokes later he brought them both over the edge.

  ‘Bed?’ Lizzie suggested as he cupped her face in his hands.

  ‘Lightweight,’ Damon whispered against her mouth.

  ‘You’re insatiable.’

  ‘And you seem pleased about that,’ he commented.

  ‘I am,’ she admitted.

  ‘You’re the same,’ he insisted. ‘You just don’t know it yet.’

  ‘Then why don’t you prove it to me?’

  Swinging her into his arms, he carried her across the room and into his bathroom, which was the most opulent haven of luxury she’d ever seen. Black marble covered the walls and floor, and there was elegant furniture. High-end products in industrial-sized crystal jars were just begging to be used. And there were mirrors everywhere.

  The sight of herself in Damon’s arms, both of them naked and intimately entwined, was the most arousing thing that Lizzie had ever seen.

  ‘That insatiable thing...’ Damon murmured as he steadied her on the warm marble floor.

  ‘What about it?’ Lifting her chin, she blazed a challenge into his eyes.

  ‘It’s time I proved it to you...’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THIS WAS NOT like Lizzie’s shower in London. No chance of a lukewarm dribble trickling out of a rusty showerhead. Damon’s shower was a powerful blast of water at the perfect temperature, and it was instantly warm.

  ‘Billionaire’s perks?’ Lizzie suggested as she turned her face towards the refreshing stream.

  Taking the exclusive shower gel out of her hands, Damon washed her all over with long and increasingly intimate strokes. And then he trained the showerhead where she was most sensitive, skilfully massaging her with tiny, tantalising blunt-edged needles that took her arousal to new heights.

  ‘Hands flat against the wall,’ he instructed.

  How could her body be so sensitive? The warm water had made her nerve-endings super-responsive, Lizzie supposed as Damon trained the water over her back and her buttocks.

  Resting her head against the wall, she groaned with pleasure as he nudged her legs apart to direct the pounding water so skilfully she found yet another way to lose control. He caught her as her legs buckled beneath her, but even that wasn’t enough for him. Resting her leg high on his thigh, he thrust into her, working steadily to bring her to the edge again.

  ‘I can’t...’ she protested, shaking her head, certain this was true.

  ‘Yes, you can,’ he insisted softly—and he proved it beyond doubt.

  After the shower he swaddled her in warm, fluffy towels and carried her back to bed. ‘Sleep now,’ he said.

  ‘Sleep?’ she complained softly, staring into his eyes.

  ‘I have work to do,’ Damon told her, pulling away.

  And then, just like eleven years before, he was gone.

  * * *

  How had she ever managed to sleep? Lizzie wondered as she woke to find sunlight blazing into the room. Damon’s bedroom. She turned over in bed. The other side was empty. The pillow was smooth. She’d slept through the night. But where was Damon?

  As the events of the previous night came flooding back she sat up and realised that she’d had her first untroubled night’s sleep without nightmares in ages. There had been no ghoulish return to a hushed courtroom full of haunted faces. She must have been totally exhausted to sleep like that. Having glutted herself on Damon, that was hardly a surprise. But now she sat up to listen she thought the house was empty.

  She was just a temporary visitor who had outstayed her welcome, Lizzie thought, feeling awkward as she swung herself out of the bed. They were supposed to be telling Thea today—that was what they’d decided in the dark hours of the night. Had Damon gone on ahead of her?

  No! Thea must hear it from her mother, Lizzie thought as she rushed to take a shower.

  As she stood beneath the water that had felt so soothing only hours before her mind filled with terrifying images. They included Damon taking Thea away on his powerboat, or in his helicopter, or his jet—how would she ever find them again when he had homes all over the world? She’d made a very poor job of finding Damon over the past eleven years, so he would easily stay ahead of her now.

  Grabbing a towel, she closed her eyes and accepted that her fears had no base in reality. All she had to do was get herself back to the restaurant somehow, so she could change her clothes, and then call Thea to arrange to meet her at the school, where Lizzie would explain everything.

  Plan made, she prepared for the most vital explanation of her life.

  * * *

  Thea came powering towards Lizzie through the gates of the island’s school. Throwing herself into her mother’s arms, she exclaimed, ‘You’re wearing the blue dress today!’ Thea’s smile was sunny, but her sharp gaze missed nothing. ‘You never wear dresses unless it’s for a special occasion.’

  Lizzie cheeks burned red with guilt beneath Thea’s scrutiny. ‘I put the dress on for you. I went back to the restaurant specially—’

  ‘You went back? From where?’ Thea queried, fully in sleuth mode now. ‘Where were you before the restaurant?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  Lizzie laughed. In spite of her tension, Thea’s suspicious expression could always crack her up.

  Thea narrowed her eyes. ‘You were with him, weren’t you?’

  If only life was as simple as making a choice between a blue dress and a yellow dress, Lizzie thought, feeling a flutter of nerves now the moment had come to tell Thea the truth about her father.

  ‘I love both dresses equally. You’ve got excellent taste.’

  ‘That’s not the question I asked you. What I want to know is, how did you get on with Damon?’

  ‘Thea!’ Lizzie tried and failed to be stern. ‘As far as I can tell, he’s a very nice man.’

  ‘A “very nice man”?’ Thea pulled a face.

  ‘He’s a good man,’ Lizzie conceded carefully. She had to begin somewhere, but she could hardly pretend that she and Damon were bosom buddies right now.

  ‘And...?’ Thea pressed. ‘Will you see him again soon?’

  ‘I think it will be hard to avoid him on the island,’ Lizzie said, speaking her thoughts out loud. ‘But we should see him together next time—’

  ‘No!’ Thea cut in with disapproval. ‘How is your romance going to flourish with me there? You have to see him on your own.’

  ‘I thought you liked him?’

  ‘I do—but only if he makes you happy.’

  ‘He enjoyed hearing you play,’ Lizzie said, to break the sudden tension.

  ‘He can come t
o a concert and hear the entire orchestra play,’ Thea dismissed, clearly eager to move on the subject at the top of her agenda. ‘It’s you I’m worried about, not him.’

  Lizzie’s sinking feeling increased. ‘We really need to talk about this.’

  ‘Why?’ Thea demanded.

  ‘Because—’

  Lizzie could see that Thea wasn’t interested. Thea might be a musical prodigy, but she could be as difficult as any other ten-year-old child, and right now Thea’s ears were closed to reason.

  Lizzie still had to try. ‘Because there’s something I should have told you a long time ago. Why don’t we sit in the shade and chat as we wait for the bus?’

  Thea shrugged, but she plopped down on the bench next to Lizzie.

  ‘So...you like Damon?’ Lizzie began cautiously.

  ‘A lot,’ Thea said with a frown. ‘We hit it off right away. But you already know that, so what’s this about?’

  Would Thea hate her when she told her? Would the reasons for her not telling her sooner about Damon matter, or would Thea believe that Lizzie had kept Damon away from her on purpose?

  This wasn’t about her, Lizzie concluded, or how she felt about the situation. This was about Thea and Damon, and Thea deserved to hear the truth.

  ‘I’m glad you like Damon, because there’s something I need to tell you about him—’

  ‘He’s asked you to marry him?’ Thea exclaimed, leaping up from the bench.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Lizzie confessed. ‘What I’ve got to tell you goes a lot further back than this trip to Greece.’

  ‘Is he my father?’

  Lizzie was stunned speechless. ‘What?’ She felt as if she’d been punched.

  ‘Well? Is he?’ Thea demanded. ‘Is Damon Gavros my father? Yes or no?’

  ‘I wanted to break it to you gently—’

  ‘There’s only one way you can break news like this,’ Thea insisted, ‘and that’s with a brass band. Yes!’ she exulted, punching the air. ‘I knew it!’

  Lizzie put a steadying hand on Thea’s arm, and for once wished someone would do the same for her. ‘We’re still all right, aren’t we? I mean, you and me...the two of us?’

  ‘Of course we are,’ Thea confirmed impatiently. ‘We’ll carry on exactly as before. Won’t we...?’

  Lizzie would have walked over hot coals to take the look of uncertainty from Thea’s face. ‘Of course we will,’ she said fiercely. ‘No one’s going to interfere in our lives.’

  ‘Good,’ Thea said. Her slender shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘He’s never been around before, so why would he want to interfere now?’

  ‘He will want to have some part in your life, Thea. He’s your father, and you can’t blame him for not being around when he’s only just found out about you.’

  ‘That doesn’t give him any rights over me,’ Thea said stubbornly. ‘Believe me,’ she said with agonising certainty, ‘I’m quite an expert on this. Most of the kids at school have parents who are divorced, or about to be divorced—I listen to everything they say about it.’

  ‘But I’m not married to Damon.’

  ‘What difference does that make?’ Thea demanded.

  ‘I wanted to tell him as soon as I knew that I was pregnant with you, but I couldn’t—’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Thea declared, hugging Lizzie fiercely. ‘I only care about you. I don’t need anyone else,’ she blurted on the brink of tears, instantly on her mother’s side. ‘We’ve done all right together, haven’t we?’

  ‘Of course we have.’ Thea needed reassurance far more than she did, Lizzie thought as she dropped kisses on the top of Thea’s head. ‘And we’ll continue to do all right, you and me.’

  ‘Well, then...’ Thea said, pulling back and looking up. ‘Why does he have to be part of my life?’

  Holding Thea so she could look into her daughter’s eyes, Lizzie said quietly, ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about—nothing—do you hear me?’

  ‘I hear you,’ Thea said with absolute confidence.

  This was not at all the way Lizzie had imagined things would turn out. Knowing Thea liked Damon, she had imagined Thea would be thrilled to learn Damon was her father. She had seemed thrilled, to begin with, but now Thea appeared to be more threatened than pleased by the news.

  The important thing was that Thea understood that nothing would change between Thea and Lizzie because of these new circumstances.

  ‘Why don’t we meet him?’ Lizzie suggested. ‘You don’t have to worry because I’ll be there. You can get to know him slowly—in your own time. We both can, and then we’ll take it from there. The one thing I promise is that you will never have to do anything you don’t want to do.’

  ‘Does that mean I can stay with you?’ Thea blurted, her cheeks red and shiny with bottled-up emotion.

  ‘Of course you can!’ Lizzie drew Thea close.

  ‘Because some of the girls at school never get to see their other parent, and I don’t want that. I don’t want to be away from you. I love you!’ she exclaimed.

  When Thea threw her arms around Lizzie, to give her the tightest hug ever, the dam finally broke and Lizzie cried.

  * * *

  He was waiting for Lizzie’s call. Take as much time as you need, he’d told her. He’d step in when Thea was ready to meet him, and then Lizzie and he would have a discussion as to how to proceed from there.

  He was confident all the problems could be ironed out. All that mattered to him, and to Lizzie too, was Thea’s happiness. He did have one irritation to handle, and that was the media who were sniffing around. His people had contacted him to warn him.

  Rumours always followed him. He was one of the richest unmarried men in the world, so he supposed media interest was inevitable. He’d told his team to downplay it.

  ‘If you do, they will,’ he’d said.

  ‘I doubt it, when Ms Montgomery has a dark-haired child who happens to be the spitting image of you and happens to be the child prodigy playing at your father’s birthday party,’ the head of his legal department had informed him.

  ‘What if she does look like me?’

  He mapped Thea’s face in his mind. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t spotted the similarities between them before. He and Thea were obviously related, and that was a fact the press could hardly be expected to miss.

  ‘There’s bound to be speculation,’ his lawyer advised. ‘You’d do well to put the rumours to bed before they get out of control.’

  ‘It’s no one else’s business,’ Damon said coldly. ‘I’m entitled to a private life and I intend to keep it that way: private.’

  ‘You can’t allow emotion to blind you to what might be going on here, Damon.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘Just that there are gold-diggers everywhere,’ his lawyer continued doggedly.

  ‘Are you referring to Ms Montgomery?’

  ‘She is her father’s daughter,’ his lawyer said smoothly.

  Damon bunched his fists. He knew the lawyer was only doing his job, and Damon had never wanted yes-men around him to boost his ego. The lawyer couldn’t be faulted for braving his displeasure by giving him the plain truth.

  ‘I’ll give your advice some thought,’ he conceded. ‘In the meantime I expect you to keep the press off both Ms Montgomery’s and her daughter’s backs.’

  ‘And yours,’ his lawyer said.

  ‘And mine,’ Damon agreed wearily. If he didn’t give the man one concession, who knew where the lawyer’s enthusiasm for his job might lead?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SHE MUSTN’T HOPE for too much, Lizzie thought. This was just the first meeting between the three of them since Damon and Thea had learned the truth. Touch wood, it all seemed to be going well. Damon had invited them to
his beach house, and Thea’s eyes had rounded like golf balls as she’d stared around, but...

  Why did there always have to be a but?

  Because maybe she hadn’t gone about this the right way. Perhaps she should have given Damon and Thea a chance to get to know each other before telling them that they were father and daughter.

  Was there a right way to do this?

  And then there were the practical points that they hadn’t ironed out yet, Lizzie thought as Damon showed them around his glorious mansion. There were priceless rugs underfoot and striking works of art on the walls. The furniture was sleek and modern, and the house was kitted out with every luxury item imaginable—including an elegant grand piano in the hall beneath the sweeping marble staircase.

  And still it echoed.

  This was luxury on an unprecedented scale, but it told Lizzie nothing about Damon. There were no personal items, no photographs, no trophies, no memorabilia at all. And every footfall and whispered word between them travelled aimlessly around the vaulted space. It made Lizzie nostalgic for her cosy bedsit, where she had cuddled up on many a night with Thea.

  This mansion was a sumptuous new build, waiting to have a family’s personality imprinted upon it. And, even supposing things could be ironed out between Lizzie and Damon, how were they going to manage this? From being two separate units, could they become one?

  What would be lost along the way? Lizzie thought as they walked from a cinema room to an indoor gym and a swimming pool complex, and on again to a full-scale library. Her independence? Lizzie wondered with a frisson of alarm. Or Thea’s carefree take on life? Either way, she couldn’t relax into the tour of this fabulous house and pretend she belonged there.

  Thea had to be worried about the future too. She wasn’t easily impressed—except maybe by a thrift shop find, or some priceless violin she’d seen in an auction house catalogue—and she had never lusted after riches. She had everything she needed, she would often tell Lizzie, but now Lizzie was beginning to wonder if Thea said it just to reassure her.

  She would soon find out.

  Lizzie’s trust fund was heavily depleted, she accepted. Her father and stepmother had seen to that. The only time Lizzie felt secure was when she was in control. She might not have much, but what she had she’d earned, and she was confident she could make a safe and loving home for Thea.