by Kim Lawrence
‘You want to know what happens next?’
Diverted, she nodded.
‘The plan is for me to take you to Tackyntha via Athens, where you will meet your grandfather before his next surgery.’ The doctors had agreed with the utmost reluctance to Alekis’s plan to meet them at the airport, and then only after he had agreed to have a full medical team with him.
She shook her head. ‘Tackyntha?’
‘It is your grandfather’s home, an island.’
‘Where my mother lived.’
‘I presume so.’
‘So, you want me to go to the hospital.’
The obvious solution, but Alekis was determined that when he met his granddaughter he would not be lying in a hospital bed. ‘At the airport.’
‘And what if I say no?’
‘I’d say fair enough, though it’s a shame because your cause sounded pretty deserving.’
‘Do you work for him?’
His lips twitched. ‘He did offer, but, no, I do not work for Alekis.’
‘Does he think you can buy love? Buy me?’ Her words had an angry, forlorn sound.
‘That is not in my field of expertise.’
‘What is your area of expertise?’
‘Well, it’s not babysitting reluctant heiresses.’
She responded to the barely concealed disdain in his observation with an equally snooty glare of her own. ‘I do not require a babysitter, thank you.’
‘Let me rephrase it. You need to learn the rules of the society you’re about to enter.’
She pounced angrily on the refined definition. ‘So that I don’t embarrass my grandfather, you mean! Oh, to hell with this. My home is here. I’m needed here.’
‘Really? You already told me that you are not irreplaceable. That you have a talented second-in-command whose task, I think, would be a lot easier if your refuge had financial security. Besides, being an heiress does not make you rich in the present, but you will be a target for shady gold-diggers and tabloid journalists, which is where I come in.’
‘So, what are you—a bodyguard or a babysitter?’
‘I am a man at the end of his patience,’ he intoned grimly. ‘Look, the options are you flounce off or give me the details so that I can arrange a bank transfer into your refuge’s accounts.’
‘And what do I have to do?’
‘Come and say hello to a dying old man.’ For starters, he added silently, before reminding himself that her future and her happiness were not his business.
Who said be careful what you wished for? Maybe, she reflected grimly, someone who had dreamt of finding a family only to have it feel... How did she feel?
Unravelling the confused tangle of emotions she was struggling with, Kat knew that a dream come true wasn’t meant to feel this way. ‘So, who would he have left his money to if he hadn’t decided to make up for a quarter of a century and look for me?’
‘Me, I would imagine. However, you can relax. I don’t need it.’
Which explained the arrogant manner and the air of self-importance.
‘If I do come with you to Greece, I will need some guarantees. Firstly, I need to know that the future of the refuge is guaranteed.’
‘My word is not enough for you?’
Her eyes narrowed at the hauteur in his manner. ‘In writing, for my lawyer to check over.’ Her expression dared him to challenge the fact she had a lawyer. Well, Mike was a lawyer, though not hers, but lawyer sounded so much more impressive and businesslike than her friend from her baking class who’d like to be more.
‘Agreed,’ he said calmly. ‘You can have the papers by the end of the day.’
‘And I need to know that I can leave whenever I like.’
The idea that he or Alekis had any control over her movements was something he allowed to pass. ‘Two months.’
‘What?’
‘You will give your grandfather two months to get to know you. That only seems fair, wouldn’t you say?’
Nothing about this seemed fair to Kat, who nodded. ‘Two months.’ She started to get to her feet and stopped. ‘I don’t know your name.’
‘Enter the name Zach Gavros into your search engine and you’ll find out all you need to know about me. Some of it might even be true.’
CHAPTER FOUR
SOMEONE FILLED KAT’S glass with the wine from the party-sized box that she was pretty sure Zach Gavros would have turned his autocratic nose up at. It was still in her hand as she slipped out of the room, where the mood was definitely party, and into the relative quiet of the office. Though no longer her office.
She had said goodbye to everyone earlier, fighting the emotional lump in her throat, reminding herself that she was the only one, barring Sue, who knew that this was a permanent parting. The goodbye was of the ‘for ever’ variety.
Maybe she would come back after two months, but it didn’t seem fair for her to ask Sue to step down when or if she returned, so she was making a clean break. Which had left her with no real option but to tell Sue, considering she was relying on her deputy to step into her shoes, the task that wasn’t as easy as she had hoped. While she had been convincing a sceptical Sue how perfect she was for the job and how smooth the transition would be, Kat realised just how true it was. She supposed everyone liked to think they were indispensable, that they would leave a hole, be missed, but it was depressing to realise that she was so easy to replace.
‘You should go back to the party,’ she said to Sue, who she had seen slip away a few minutes earlier. The older woman, who was bent over a carboard box of files, straightened up and nodded.
‘I will, but I couldn’t let you go without a last hug.’
Feeling the tears press against her eyelids, Kat blinked and turned her head, putting her half-full glass down next to a pile of books on a cabinet. ‘Nice photos,’ she said, her glance taking in the framed photos of her children that Sue had already arranged on what was now her desk.
Sue looked anxious. ‘I hope you don’t mind?’
‘Of course not,’ Kat responded, feeling guilty because she had minded—just a bit.
‘So, when do you want me to tell the others that you’re not coming back from the management course?’ Sue asked, framing the words with inverted commas. She had made no secret that she was mystified by Kat’s determination to keep the truth under wraps, and Kat hadn’t really known how to explain it herself. It was hard to tell other people about something that still seemed unreal to her. Besides, they might look at her the way Sue had initially, as though she’d changed or she were a different person.
Well, she wasn’t, and she didn’t intend to be. Kat was determined that, whatever happened, she would hang on to her own identity. If her grandfather or Zach Gavros thought they could mould her into something she wasn’t, they would soon learn otherwise.
Of course, she had searched for his name. There was plenty of information there to give her an insight into the man her grandfather had chosen to tutor her in how the super-rich behaved, and also a few significant gaps.
His past seemed something of a mystery, which had sparked a thousand conspiracy theories. A favourite being that he had underworld connections. Another that he was Alekis’s bastard son, which would make him her... No, that couldn’t be right, she decided, sure that there could be no blood connection between them.
There were almost as many stories of his financial genius and ruthless dedication to amassing wealth as there were to the sleek cars he drove, and the even sleeker women who lined up to have their hearts broken by him.
And to be fair, in a number of cases their public profiles and careers had been enhanced by their association with the man. Kat didn’t feel it was fair, though, as an image floated into her head of her mother’s grave as it had been when she’d finally found it. Overgrown, untended...lonely. Her mother’s heart ha
d not been as resilient as the women whose names had been associated with Zach Gavros, but she liked to think that her mother had finally found a man worthy of her love. The beautiful gravestone in the cemetery gave her hope.
Kat pushed away the intruding thoughts with a firm little shake of her head. She smiled at Sue.
‘That’s up to you. You’re the boss.’ A sudden whoop from the other room, where the party was still in full swing, made her turn her head. When she looked back, Sue was looking at her suitcase.
‘That is one very small case for a new life.’
‘Just what I was thinking.’
Both women turned to the owner of the pleasant voice—pleasant was a good description of the man who was standing in the doorway. A little above average height, he was fairish and good-looking. Mike’s newly acquired and carefully tended beard made him look less boyish and gave him, according to him, the maturity his clients expected of a solicitor earmarked for partner in a successful practice.
‘I did knock but nobody heard. Am I too early?’
‘Perfect timing, and I always travel light,’ Kat told them both truthfully, seeing no need to explain that it was a hangover from her childhood, when for years she had been utterly certain that the mother who had left her sitting on the car-park wall of a health centre would come back to her. Her faith had been absolute; she had kept her small suitcase stowed neatly under her bed, packed, ready for the day her mum would come to claim her. Which was probably why none of the early foster placements had ever stuck, and the couple who had been interested in adopting her had backed out. Polite, she’d heard them tell her case worker, but unable to respond to love. They hadn’t understood that Kat didn’t need a family, she already had one, though seeing as they had said she was a polite child she hadn’t wanted to upset them by explaining this.
In the end she’d found her way into a long-term foster home. A mad, hectic household with a rare and marvellous couple who didn’t expect love, they just gave it, and they never mentioned her case under the bed.
Kat still had a packed case under her bed that she didn’t have to explain, because Kat didn’t share her bed or her history with anyone.
‘You know everyone is going to be gutted they didn’t get to say goodbye properly.’
Kat smiled. For a day or two, a week maybe, they might miss her. Might even say some affectionate remember when things about her in the future, but people forgot and that, she reminded herself before she slipped into a self-pitying spiral, was the way it should be. She would be in a position now to help them more from a distance than she ever could have here.
‘What shall I tell them when you don’t come back?’
‘That’s up to you. Like I keep saying, you’ll be the boss, you’ll do things your way. Oh, sorry!’ She straightened the photo her elbow had nudged. ‘This one of Sara is so cute. She looks just like you.’
‘So everyone keeps telling me.’
Kat placed it carefully back down. The photo was the reason why Sue would always be missed, never forgotten. She had family. Shrugging off the wave of sadness tinged with envy that threatened to envelop her, Kat picked up her case and reminded herself that she travelled light, something that Sue, with all her responsibilities, couldn’t do. She was lucky.
‘This is your office—you might even splurge on that new desk I never got around to getting. Nobody suspects, do they?’ She nodded towards the door, behind which there was the gentle hum of laughter.
‘Not a thing.’
‘I must be a much better liar than I thought.’
No one had had any problem accepting that a philanthropist who wanted to remain nameless had appeared, and that he was willing to not only fund the shortfall, but very generously fund the expansion of an annex and playground they had always dreamt of, and send Kat on a management course. And why shouldn’t they? Everyone loved a happy ending.
Sue’s reaction to the full story had made her realise that in most people’s eyes she had her own happy ending. She was an heiress; she was living the dream. The dream of so many children living in care.
Not hers. Maybe she just didn’t dream big. She had never thought of castles...just somewhere small, enough money to pay the bills and a mum. Her little fantasies had never contained any male figures; her own father, she knew, had walked out before she was born, and the men in her mother’s life afterwards, well, the moments of peace she remembered coincided with their absences.
The only male figure who had been a reassuring presence in her life had been her foster father, but when he had died completely unexpectedly she had seen first-hand how devastated his wife, Nell, had been.
So the options, it seemed to Kat, were between being involved with a man who turned out to a bastard who abused or deserted you, or a man who, to quote dear Nell, you ‘loved so much you became half a person after you lost them’. Those heartbroken words had stayed with Kat, as had the haunted, empty look in her foster mum’s eyes.
Neither of the above seemed an option anyone with half a brain would voluntarily choose, though maybe falling in love removed the choice?
She was open-minded about the power of love, but it was a power she had never felt and she didn’t feel deprived. Actually, she’d started to wonder, if you had to have a relationship—and the world did seem to be constructed for pairs—a relationship without love might be the way to go?
A choice made for common-sense reasons with someone you knew was nice and dependable—like Mike?
It was ironic that lately she’d even been contemplating saying yes, the next time he asked her out. Though that wasn’t going to happen now.
Mike picked up her case. ‘You sure about this?’ he asked, his expression concerned.
‘Of course she is—it’s like a fairy tale and she’s the princess. Aren’t you excited? Your life is going to change.’
Fighting the impulse to yell, I liked my old life, she lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug, smiling to take the edge off her words.
‘I quite liked the old one. I’m still a bit in shock,’ she added, feeling she had to defend her lack of enthusiasm as she returned Sue’s hug and gave a sniff. ‘Stop that,’ she begged the weeping Sue. ‘I said I was not going to cry.’
She did, a little, and Mike, being tactful, didn’t comment on her sniffles as they drove along. Instead, he kept up a desultory anecdotal conversation that required nothing from her but the occasional nod and smile until they reached the private airfield.
A barrier lifted as they approached, and they were waved through to a parking area that appeared empty apart from two limousines parked at the far end.
Mike lifted her case from the boot and turned to where she stood waiting, her slender shoulders hunched against a chill autumnal breeze. ‘I’ve done some research, and your grandfather, Kat, he’s mega wealthy.’
Kat nodded. She too had looked up her grandfather’s name and seen the results that spilled out. Knowing that her mother had lived the life afforded by such unimaginable wealth and privilege and then been reduced to such a miserable, degrading existence somehow made her fate worse, and intensified the anger Kat felt towards the man who had refused, up to this point, to acknowledge he even had a granddaughter.
‘So, I suppose we’re never going to have that movie and take-away night.’ Underneath the lightness of his words she glimpsed a genuine sadness that made Kat experience a pang of guilt, acknowledging her own selfishness.
She’d turned to Mike for help, knowing that he wanted to be more than a friend, and had not spared a thought for his feelings. Maybe Zach had been right: she was like her grandfather.
Horror at the thought made her respond with more warmth than she might have otherwise shown as she threw her arms around him in a spontaneous bear hug.
‘We can keep in touch.’
* * *
Zach emerged from the limo to see t
he embrace. He tensed, his teeth grating together in a white unsmiling barrier as the pressure of outrage building in his chest increased. Waving away the driver and his bags, he kept his eyes trained on the couple, ignoring the whisper in the corner of his brain that suggested his reaction to Katina having a lover was a bit OTT.
The soft sound of her laughter reached his ears, low and intimate, he silently translated, feeling the rush of another nameless emotion that pushed him into action, and strode across the concrete. It was nothing to him if she had a lover or a string of them, but the information, he told himself, might have been useful. It wasn’t like Alekis to leave out such a detail, so presumably he didn’t know about this man either.
He did not doubt that Alekis would manage to separate them, but he found he could see a quicker and more efficient way to facilitate this.
‘Good afternoon.’
Furious with herself for jumping guiltily away from Mike at the sound of Zach’s voice, she laid a hand on Mike’s arm.
‘Hello.’
The warmth lacking in her eyes as she had acknowledged the tall Greek’s presence was there as she turned back to her friend. ‘Mike, this is Zach Gavros. I told you about him.’
She had actually told him very little of what she had learnt online, because, like Sue, Mike’s recognition of the name had been instantaneous, though, unlike Sue, Mike’s depth of knowledge was more focused on Zach’s apparent financial genius than the number of hearts he’d broken. And he hadn’t shown the same degree of interest in what the Greek would look like without his shirt as Sue.
Kat, whose Internet trawl had been extensive, and had thrown up pictures of Zach and his ribbed, golden torso on a private beach with a model wearing nothing but a pair of minuscule bikini bottoms, already knew the answer. As she looked at him standing there, in a dark suit topped by a long overcoat, open to reveal his snowy white shirt, she realised that the knowledge of what he looked like minus the tailoring made her cheeks heat.
‘This is my friend, Mike Ross.’ She tore her eyes from the sensual curve of Zach’s mouth and focused on his cleanly shaven jaw while she caught her breath, as Mike stepped forward, hand extended, and for a horrible moment she thought Zach was not going to take it.
