The Diakos Baby Scandal

by Natalie Rivers

  ‘No, I didn’t!’ Kerry exclaimed. ‘Drakon already knew. He just wanted confirmation.’

  ‘So you gave it to him,’ Theo said stonily.

  ‘No, it wasn’t like that. He told me what he knew—which was everything,’ Kerry insisted. ‘I didn’t say anything—but I couldn’t deny what he’d said. Short of lying, there was nothing I could have done.’

  ‘You went against my wishes,’ Theo said. ‘Even though I made myself absolutely clear to you.’

  ‘Did you want me to lie to a sick old man—tell him he was wrong about something he already knew to be true?’ Kerry demanded.

  ‘Don’t try to turn this around,’ Theo grated. ‘You’re not the martyr here.’

  ‘And neither are you!’ Kerry threw back at him, suddenly furious with the way he was treating her. ‘You’re acting like I deliberately set out to defy you!’ she cried. ‘Nothing bad has happened. You should be pleased—you’ve finally bought the island you’ve wanted for years.’

  ‘Drakon would have sold to me sooner or later. That is not the issue,’ Theo said, stepping closer so that he was looming over her—a menacing physical presence. ‘The point is I cannot have a wife that I don’t trust.’ He moved closer. ‘And I don’t trust you.’

  Kerry did not miss the threat in Theo’s words. But rather than make her nervous they sent a wave of anger rolling through her.

  ‘This isn’t about trust,’ she accused him. ‘This is about what kind of wife you want—someone who is quiet and biddable, someone who never expresses her own opinion.’ She paused for breath, still glaring up at him. ‘In fact you don’t want a wife at all. You want another employee—someone who’ll happily jump to do your bidding and never challenge you in any way!’

  Theo was staring down at her, his dark eyes glinting dangerously. She could see a vein throbbing at his temple and a muscle pulsing in his jaw.

  ‘Whatever accusations you make—whatever defence you plead,’ he said coldly, ‘understand that I will not tolerate your continued interference in my affairs—private or business.’

  ‘Don’t try to intimidate me,’ Kerry said, placing her hands on her hips and standing her ground as he loomed over her. ‘A lot has happened since the night you threw me out—I’m not the same timid girl I was then.’

  ‘Really? Then why are we right back to square one—arguing about how you betrayed me?’ Theo demanded savagely.

  ‘I didn’t betray you—that’s just how you’ve chosen to interpret what happened,’ Kerry said. ‘It’s impossible for you to accept that anybody else can ever have a valid opinion or be well motivated.’

  She turned to the side for a moment, dashing away the foolish tears that sprang into her eyes as she realised it didn’t matter what she said—Theo had already judged her. Whatever she did, he always construed it harshly. She drew in a steadying breath, lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye once more.

  ‘You are a control freak,’ she said. ‘Everything always has to be on your terms. No matter what, you’re always convinced that you know best—that your way is the right way.’

  Theo glared at her, his heart thumping angrily in his chest. How dared she make such an accusation?

  ‘Demanding respect from the people around me and taking charge of my life does not make me a control freak,’ he said angrily.

  ‘Never accepting that anyone else can ever have a valid point of view, always insisting that everything happens in exactly the way you envision it—even when the outcome is the same—that makes you a control freak,’ she said.

  ‘However you try to turn this around—to point the blame at me—I will never tolerate your interference in my affairs,’ Theo bit out.

  ‘Don’t you realise how hypocritical you are being?’ Kerry asked, her voice rising with exasperation. ‘By wanting to control everything all the time you are the one guilty of interfering with other people’s lives. You told Corban to put Hallie in rehab. You bought the island for your aunt with the aim of totally changing her life. And you forced me to come to Greece to marry you.’

  ‘I want what is best for my family,’ Theo said. ‘There is nothing wrong with that.’

  He’d only ever tried to do the right thing—for Hallie, for his aunt. And most importantly for Lucas. He would not permit Kerry to twist his good intentions.

  ‘It’s the way you go about it—refusing to see anything from anyone else’s perspective,’ she said. ‘You told me how you couldn’t stand your father meddling in your life. But I think you’ve put so much energy into single-handedly taking control, that you can never accept anyone else might have something to contribute.’

  ‘Don’t compare me to my father,’ Theo grated.

  ‘Why not?’ Kerry demanded recklessly. ‘You behave in the same way—riding roughshod over other people’s lives.’

  ‘You don’t know what you are talking about,’ he said, his voice throbbing dangerously.

  She stared up at his furious face, and suddenly all the anger drained out of her. She couldn’t bear to continue arguing with him.

  ‘I can’t do this any more—it won’t make any difference.’ She felt her shoulders slump with defeat. ‘I feel like I’m constantly walking on eggshells. However hard I try I can’t help making you angry with me.’

  ‘If you kept your nose out of my affairs we wouldn’t have this problem,’ Theo said.

  She lifted her head and met his gaze straight on. She loved him—but she didn’t know how they could ever make their marriage work.

  ‘I just can’t talk to you. It’s pointless,’ she said, feeling her heart breaking all over again. ‘You’ll never really hear what I’m saying. Whatever I do you’ll just interpret it negatively.’

  She turned to leave—there was nothing else she could do.

  ‘Don’t walk away from me.’ He spoke through gritted teeth. ‘I’m not finished with you yet.’

  She stopped and looked up at him, feeling a wave of despair rising up through her.

  ‘I know,’ she said, her voice breaking with emotion. ‘You never will be. Because we have Lucas you’ll never be finished with me.’

  Theo stood rooted to the spot, staring down at her with hostile eyes. But as she turned to leave he didn’t try to stop her.

  Kerry hardly slept that night. It was a welcome relief when morning came and she heard Lucas stirring in the nursery. She slipped out of bed quietly, although she suspected Theo wasn’t asleep either, and went through to get him up and dressed for the day.

  After their argument she couldn’t face seeing Theo. And apparently he felt the same way, because he began working in his study very soon afterwards. Although it was a large apartment, she started to feel claustrophobic. Simply knowing that Theo was behind the closed door of his study, a dangerously brooding presence like a volcano waiting to erupt, made her feel uneasy.

  So as soon as it seemed a reasonable time she put Lucas in his pushchair and went out for a walk. After the air-conditioned hotel it felt very hot and heavy outside—even though it was barely eight o’clock in the morning. The weather had been unsettled for a few days, so she’d put the rain cover on Lucas’s buggy—something that was rarely necessary in the Athens summer.

  She set off away from the bustling business district of the city, towards the winding medieval alleyways around the Acropolis. But she’d forgotten that the tourist area was slower to wake up in the morning and found the streets disconcertingly deserted, apart from a few shopkeepers mopping the marble pavements outside their small stores.

  Eventually she found an open café and sat down to give Lucas a drink. She ordered cappuccino and baklava for herself, hoping the combination of caffeine and sugar might give her a boost. The air was so muggy that her sleepless night was really catching up with her.

  But as she sat there, looking distractedly at the reflections in the shiny wet marble in front of the trinket store across the alleyway, she felt increasingly weary. And all she could think about was how much she lo
ved Theo—and how he would never, ever love her. He’d broken her heart into a million jagged fragments once more. And this time she didn’t know how she’d ever find the strength to pick the pieces up.

  Theo watched his Aunt Dacia’s face as the helicopter approached the island. He’d met her properly for the first time in his life that morning, and he couldn’t quite get over how like his mother she was. It wasn’t really the way she looked—it was more to do with the way she moved, her gestures, and particularly the sound of her voice.

  It was a strange feeling, finally bringing her back to the island where she’d grown up with his mother. He’d been amazed and pleased that she had agreed to come with him so readily. After the way she’d refused to have anything to do with him—even slamming the door in his face once or twice, before he’d given up on direct personal contact—he’d been prepared for a lengthy process of persuasion.

  She didn’t speak as they walked along the ridge from the helipad, but as he glanced sideways at her he could see her eyes were shining brightly, and he knew coming back to the island was an emotional experience for her.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m really here,’ Dacia said eventually, as they followed Drakon’s assistant into the house.

  ‘Does it seem very different?’ Theo asked, as he held the door for his aunt. A wry smile flashed across his face as he remembered Drakon’s terse comment that he didn’t need help because the door stayed open on its own.

  A lot had happened since that evening when he’d first brought Kerry to the island. His well-ordered life had been completely turned upside down. He was here, properly meeting his aunt for the first time, and fulfilling his mother’s dying wish that he find a way to help her. And back in Athens he had a wife and son.

  An unpleasant ripple of emotion went through him as he remembered the argument they’d had the previous evening. The look of desperation in her eyes when she’d said she knew he’d never be finished with her had cut him deeply—unexpectedly so. As had the way she’d curled away from him all night, on the very edge of their large bed.

  ‘The outside hardly seems to have changed,’ Dacia said. ‘And even the inside seems the same, apart from the furniture.’

  ‘There are some maintenance issues—mainly with the olive groves and the traditional press that was used to make the oil,’ Theo said, pulling his thoughts back to the present. ‘But I’ve already made contact with several experts we could employ to get things back on track—if that’s what you decide to do with the place.’

  ‘These are the paintings I was asked to point out to you,’ Drakon’s assistant said, leading them into the whitewashed corridor. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and check on the refreshments.’

  ‘Oh!’ Dacia gave a little cry and lifted both hands up to her cheeks.

  Theo could see how much she was trembling as she walked closer, to look at the paintings that had been done by her late husband—the love of her life. Her head was tipped to the side as she gazed at them, and suddenly he saw that tears were running down her face.

  A strange lump tightened in his throat and he reached into his jacket pocket automatically for a clean handkerchief. He stepped nearer and offered it to her, and then, without thinking what he was doing—maybe because she was so like his mother—he put his arm around her thin shoulders and gave her a reassuring hug.

  She jumped slightly, and turned to look up at him with startled eyes.

  Theo cleared his throat gruffly and dropped his arm stiffly by his side.

  ‘Please excuse me,’ he said, stepping back awkwardly. ‘That was too forward of me.’

  ‘No. You must excuse me.’ Dacia looked up at him with sparkling eyes, shaking her head from side to side. ‘Thank you so much for doing this for me.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ Theo brushed her thanks aside.

  ‘It is everything,’ Dacia said with feeling. ‘After the way I turned my back on you and refused all your offers of help I don’t deserve this.’

  ‘I am pleased to have found a way to put things right,’ Theo said. ‘It was because of my father that you lost so much.’

  ‘Because of your father—not because of you,’ Dacia said. ‘But I was so foolish I turned my back on my sister and on her boys. And now you’ve grown up to be such a wonderful, handsome man—I’m sorry that I missed so much of your life. That I threw my sister’s good intentions back in her face.’

  Theo looked down at her, completely lost for words. He knew that Dacia and his mother had never been particularly close. They’d been very different people—Dacia had liked to lead a simple life, and his mother had relished the high-paced, fashion-orientated life that marriage to his father had brought her. But it was sad that they hadn’t overcome their differences before his mother had died.

  ‘I’m sorry that I never accepted all your offers of help,’ she said. ‘Especially the paintings I returned unopened—that was unforgivably small-minded of me after the trouble you must have gone through to get them. I was so determined not to accept anything from your family that I hurt myself—denied myself the chance to have something that would have brought me comfort.’

  ‘What made you change your mind now?’ Theo asked. ‘I was absolutely delighted when you accepted my call and agreed to come out here with me. But I must admit I was a little surprised to find you so willing.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dacia said again. ‘I’m ashamed to say that if it hadn’t been for the elderly man who used to own this island contacting me and asking me to visit him in hospital, the chances are I still wouldn’t have come to my senses.’

  ‘What happened?’ Theo asked.

  ‘I went to see Drakon Notara. He told me that you were trying to buy his island so that I would be able to return to my old home,’ Dacia said. ‘I was shocked, and I think I would have walked away—but he is such an engaging old fellow. Once he started talking I found I didn’t want to leave any more.’

  Theo looked at his aunt, feeling a touch of irritation towards Drakon. He’d been busy—he’d seen Kerry in the morning, then his aunt that afternoon, and then finally Theo on the following day.

  ‘What did he tell you?’ Theo asked, uncharacteristically uneasy about what Drakon might have told his aunt.

  ‘More or less his whole life story, I think.’ Dacia smiled. ‘About his dear wife and their love of nature. About how his greatest concern was to preserve the island as it was. He couldn’t bear the idea of modern development ruining it—and that was where his interest in me came in.’

  She paused and smiled apologetically at Theo, as if to soften what she was about to say. ‘He wanted my assurances that I would keep you in check—make sure you kept to your word and didn’t start building hotels here.’

  Theo raised his brows, startled to feel a burst of ironic humour rip through him. Drakon was such a character. The idea that his aunt, a woman Theo had never even met properly before, would be able to hold sway over him was absurd. He’d build a concrete jungle on the island if he wanted to—no one told Theo Diakos what to do.

  But then he found himself feeling an unexpected amount of respect for Drakon. That cunning old man was no fool. In fact he had completely got Theo’s measure. He knew he had bought the island to mend bridges with his aunt, and that he would listen to what she had to say.

  ‘I won’t build any hotels,’ he said. ‘But you will have to decide what you want to do with the island. There are plenty of possibilities—from restarting the olive oil production to running small painting retreats like you used to.’ He paused, suddenly realising that suggesting something that would inevitably bring memories of her late husband might be too painful.

  ‘You don’t have to decide immediately,’ he continued. ‘Take as long as you need to think about it. And if you feel that the island is not the right home for you now—that’s all right too. We can still find a way to preserve what Drakon has started here.’

  Dacia smiled, and turned to look back at the paintings hanging on the whi
tewashed wall.

  ‘I’d like to send you the other paintings now,’ Theo said, thinking about how they had caught Kerry’s eye and spiked her curiosity. It had taken him years to find and then acquire work by his uncle. Most of his paintings were in private collections, and it was very rare that they came onto the market.

  ‘Thank you.’ Dacia smiled up at him warmly. ‘But, you know, after all this time I realise that what I would love is the chance to get to know the people I foolishly shut out of my life.’

  ‘Of course,’ Theo said. ‘I know Corban would be delighted to introduce you to his family.’

  ‘And I would love to meet your wife, Dacia said. ‘Drakon clearly thinks the world of her. I got the impression that she was instrumental in his decision to sell the island.’

  ‘Yes, Drakon’s always been very taken with Kerry. I believe she reminds him of his late wife, back when he first met her,’ Theo replied without missing a beat—but inside he felt an unexpected jolt.

  He’d always known that Kerry would play a part in the old man’s willingness to do business with him—which was why he’d followed Drakon’s request and brought her out to the island to meet him. But suddenly he was thinking about what she’d said the night before—that he was a control freak. That he always judged her negatively, never believing her involvement could be well motivated.

  ‘The refreshments are ready.’ Drakon’s assistant spoke politely, interrupting his thoughts.

  ‘How lovely,’ Dacia said. ‘Thank you.’

  Theo turned to escort his aunt out to the paved area overlooking the Adriatic. Despite everything he had said the night before, he did acknowledge that Dacia was here now, with the minimum of persuasion, because of Kerry and Drakon’s involvement. And he knew that if he’d done things his own way it might have been a much longer, more painful process.

  ‘I’ve kept on all of Drakon’s staff,’ Theo said. ‘It should make the transition of ownership easier. But of course you will be free to make your own decisions about staffing in due course.’

  ‘You’ve turned my world upside down,’ Dacia said, reaching out and squeezing Theo’s hand. ‘You can’t even begin to imagine what this means to me. Thank you—thank you so much for doing such a marvellous thing.’