The Diakos Baby Scandal

Kerry went on. ‘He said that they came with the house when he bought the island twenty-five years ago, from a property developer who’d run into financial difficulties—luckily before he’d started any building on the island.’

Theo nodded. ‘That failed property developer left quite a mess when he went bankrupt—half-finished projects all over the place.’

‘How fascinating,’ Kerry said enthusiastically, as if her imagination was well and truly captured. ‘So does that mean your uncle once owned the island?’

‘Not exactly.’ Theo pushed his hands through his hair and turned to walk away from the paintings, out onto the terrace that overlooked the infinity pool. ‘It belonged to my mother’s family. Her twin sister, my Aunt Dacia, was married to the artist.’

‘What made them sell it?’ Kerry asked. ‘It’s such a beautiful place.’

Theo frowned and looked away. He was out of his comfort zone—taken aback by how quickly Kerry was delving deeper into the story, peeling back layers that would soon reveal more than he wanted.

An ironic smile flashed across his face. His first foray into openness with his soon-to-be wife and he was already getting cold feet. It wasn’t as if information about what had happened wasn’t already out there in the public domain—in fact it was of very little interest to anyone but his immediate family. But it was something he preferred not to talk about—he felt shamed by association. Shamed to be his father’s son.

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Kerry said. ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

She looked up at him. His black hair was spiky from where he had dragged his fingers through it and she could tell he was feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t want to put him in a position he would regret later. She knew the tentative understanding they seemed to have reached could be easily broken.

She turned away, to show that she wasn’t badgering him for information, and looked towards the sun going down in the western sky. They were standing overlooking the infinity pool, and in the fading light the sun-bronzed water really did seem to stretch on for ever, in a seamless sweep right out across the Aegean Sea.

This island, with its tasteful buildings and luxury swimming pools, was beautiful. But if she was completely honest it didn’t have the same magic as Drakon’s island. Perhaps it was the untamed wildness of that place, with its unkempt ancient olive groves and the tumbledown buildings made of natural materials. Something about that place made it truly special.

‘It must have been hard for your mother and her sister to leave the island,’ she said.

‘My mother left by choice,’ Theo replied. ‘She wanted the excitement and opportunities that the mainland could offer. My aunt loved the place. She was still relatively young when her parents—my grandparents—died. But she managed to keep the place going, continuing the small business they had established making olive oil. Then she started to open her home as a retreat for painters and artists. That’s how she met my uncle, Demos.’

‘What made them leave?’ Kerry asked. She didn’t want it to seem as if she was prying, but she was genuinely interested.

‘My father.’ Theo’s voice changed, becoming hard and unforgiving.

Kerry drew her lower lip into her mouth and looked at him apprehensively, knowing that their discussion had stumbled into hazardous territory. Now

she understood why Theo had been reluctant to talk about the island—she knew he was estranged from his father, although she didn’t know why.

‘My father has an insatiable appetite for meddling with other people’s lives,’ Theo said bitterly. ‘Because of his interference, my aunt and uncle lost their island. My uncle died penniless, feeling he’d failed my aunt. She was left alone, utterly broken-hearted, having lost the love of her life and her island home.’

‘How terrible,’ Kerry gasped. ‘Is your aunt still alive? I’ve never heard you or Corban mention her.’

‘That’s because she won’t see us,’ Theo said. ‘She won’t have anything to do with us because of my father.’

‘But it’s not your fault! You aren’t responsible for things your father did when you were a child,’ Kerry said indignantly. ‘You don’t even see him any more.’

‘Aunt Dacia was too badly hurt by what happened to see things rationally,’ Theo said. ‘For years my mother tried to help her, but she kept refusing because ultimately the money she was offering came from my father—the man she hated.’

He paused, pushing his hands through his hair once more, revealing just how unsettling he found the subject. Kerry wanted to reach out to him—to offer comfort and support. But she was scared of upsetting the fine balance they had reached.

‘My father made my uncle feel inadequate because he was content to live a simple life,’ Theo continued. ‘He persuaded Demos and Dacia to mortgage the island and invest the money. But they weren’t cut out for it. Demos was a gentle fellow, with no head for business. They lost everything.’

He turned back and looked down at her, his expression unguarded.

‘My father is a dominating, powerful man,’ Theo said. ‘They had no chance against him. It was my mother’s dying wish that her sister should have her island back.’

‘And now you are trying to fulfil that wish to get back what they lost because of your father?’ Kerry said quietly. ‘Your aunt will be so grateful.’

‘I don’t know,’ Theo said, with a simple shrug of his shoulders that said so much about his uncharacteristic uncertainty that Kerry felt her heart turn over in sympathy.

‘Of course she will,’ she said, reaching out instinctively and taking Theo’s hand.

He looked down at their hands. For a moment Kerry thought that he would pull his away, that she had overstepped the mark. But then he rotated his palm against hers and threaded her fingers through his, so that they were interlocked in the way they’d always used to hold hands when they were together.