She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon

Of course. She’d forgotten Petros Liakos had been his wife’s grandfather too. Costas would take such family obligations seriously, even after Fotini’s death.

‘Yes. Thanks.’ She wasn’t about to admit that she didn’t think she’d ever be ready to face old man Liakos. That the thought of meeting him made her want to turn tail and run. Instead she fell into step beside Costas.

There was something strangely soothing about his easy, deliberate pace. His tall presence beside her generated a welcome heat that counteracted her sudden chill.

She was glad of his company. After avoiding him for so long, trying not even to think about him, she felt better just having him beside her as she went to face the man she’d hated and resented most of her life.

Surreptitiously she watched Costas. So aloof, so impenetrable. He stared ahead down the corridor and she saw strength etched in his profile, in the way he held himself.

She knew without doubt that his was a different strength to her grandfather’s. He had no need to prove himself by manipulating people weaker than himself. By playing vicious games with their lives.

Costas was a man who allowed himself to be tender with those he loved—his daughter and his mother. She’d seen it in his amazing gentleness when he was with them.

For one soul-searing, painful moment she let herself wish he’d extend that loving protectiveness to encompass her.

But that would never happen.

She and Costas were doomed to rub each other up the wrong way—to strike sparks. From the first he’d awakened reactions so intense that she’d known at some primitive level he was dangerous. She’d been fighting him one way or another ever since.

So how could she be drawing strength now from his presence?

Sophie gave up trying to fathom that conundrum. Nothing about their relationship was logical or moderate. It was all high emotion and raw passion—running hot in her blood. It had nothing to do with her mind.

Even now, as he led the way to another floor, passing ward staff and visitors, the two of them were essentially alone, cocooned in a private world where everything else faded into a background blur. He didn’t touch her. Yet she was aware with every alert nerve of his lithe form beside her, the swing of his arm so close to her own, the way he tempered his pace to match hers.

They rounded a corner and stopped in front of a nursing station. Sophie clawed for mental control as she realised they were here, at Petros Liakos’ ward.

She couldn’t face the old man with her mind fixed on Costas. She needed her wits about her, and every ounce of self-assurance she’d learned at her mother’s knee.

Sophie straightened her shoulders, only half listening to the conversation between Costas and the nurse. She knew that facing this one, sick old man would test her resolve to the limits. But she owed it to her mother to be calm. To show him that her mother’s daughter was a woman to be reckoned with, not brushed aside as unworthy.

She shouldn’t care what he thought, but deep down she knew she did.

Her heart raced at a staccato beat. Dampness bloomed at her palms and she swiped them down the back of her jeans.

‘Sophie?’ Costas stared down at her. ‘It’s supposed to be one visitor at a time, but I’ll come in with you.’

‘No!’ She shook her head. ‘No, that’s OK. I’d rather see him alone.’

She couldn’t even begin to imagine facing both Petros Liakos and Costas together. She’d be a nervous wreck! And more than that, this confrontation was far too private, too personal, to be shared.

‘It will be easier with me there,’ he persisted. ‘The stroke—it’s affected his speech.’

She nodded. ‘You forget I’m a trained speech pathologist. I’m used to working with speech impediments. And,’ she hurried on before he could interrupt, ‘as long as he speaks slowly I’ll understand simple Greek.’

‘You won’t need to. Your grandfather speaks English.’

Now, that surprised her. She’d imagined him such an old-fashioned patriarch that he wouldn’t concede the value of learning any language other than his own.

‘Kyrie Liakos will see you now,’ said the nurse, emerging from a room near by. Her eyes were fixed on Costas. She didn’t even glance in Sophie’s direction.

‘Thank you,’ Sophie said, walking towards the room.

‘Sophie—’ Costas sounded as if he’d like to say more.

‘I’ll see you later,’ she said before he could continue and slipped into the private ward, letting the door close behind her.

It felt different from Eleni’s bright hospital room.