The Secret Kept from the Greek

‘I did,’ she agreed. Incredibly, on that night eleven years ago, they had grown close enough to discuss lots of things, including pastimes and hopes and dreams. ‘You told me that work was your hobby,’ she remembered.

‘Correct,’ Damon confirmed. ‘And it still is.’

‘I didn’t have a clue what you meant by saying that back then,’ she admitted. ‘I’d only just left school and had no idea that the world could be so tough.’

And the rest, she thought.

And now you do? Damon’s look said.

She didn’t deserve the compassion in his eyes. Damon had been forced to become even more work-obsessed after the trial, thanks to the damage done to his family’s business by her father. Damon had righted all those wrongs, but maybe life would have turned out differently for him if there’d been no fraud, no trial, and they had never met.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DAMON SEEMED DETERMINED to reassure her. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ he commented as they walked on.

And good to have you back, Lizzie thought, though she knew better than to expect it to be for ever.

She lowered her gaze so Damon wouldn’t be able to see how she felt about him.

‘I was worried I’d lost you again,’ he admitted. ‘I’d keep seeing flashes of the old Lizzie, but then she’d slip away.’

There was a good reason for that, Lizzie thought, hanging back. ‘You can’t recapture time, or make it stand still, Damon.’

‘But I can care that you were hurt,’ he argued firmly. ‘And I can care that I was partly responsible for causing that hurt. I can care that your father abandoned you, and your stepmother kicked you in the teeth when you had no one left to defend you—’

‘I didn’t need anyone to defend me. I was fine on my own—better, probably. I think we look at success differently, and I’m actually pleased with the way things have turned out.’

‘How can you be?’ he said frowning.

Thea was always front and foremost in her mind, and that left her nothing to complain about. ‘When I once had such big dreams, do you mean? I see things differently now. I don’t owe any money. I’ve got a roof over my head and enough food to eat.’ And, more importantly, a daughter she adored, and Thea didn’t go without anything if Lizzie could help it. ‘You don’t need to feel sorry for me,’ she said with absolute certainty.

‘I don’t feel sorry for you. I admire you,’ Damon insisted.

‘Well, that sounds a little bit patronising.’

He seemed surprised. ‘I apologise if you think that, because it’s the last thing I intended. I do admire you, and I think it’s great that you—’

‘Survived?’ she supplied edgily.

‘I think you’ve done more than that, haven’t you?’ he argued. ‘I was going to say that you’ve got great friends, and a life you enjoy, so nothing else should matter.’

‘I’m glad you see it that way.’ She was determined to move on to safer ground—which meant switching the spotlight to Damon. ‘And you’ve done very well for yourself too,’ she said dryly. ‘Understatement,’ she added with a grin.

His lips pressed down as he shrugged. ‘I had a strong family behind me all the way. And I took over an existing business with an excellent reputation.’

That Lizzie’s father had almost destroyed.

‘Stop,’ he warned, reading her. ‘No one, least of all me, blames you for your father’s crimes. The only thing that does puzzle me,’ he admitted, ‘is that you always had what it took to get ahead, but for some reason it hasn’t worked out for you as well as I expected. Obviously I’m curious to know why.’

She brushed his remark aside with a casual gesture, though everything inside her had tightened in a knot. ‘I wouldn’t waste your time investigating me.’

He huffed a laugh, but she didn’t kid herself that this was over. Damon’s interest in her life over the past eleven years had been well and truly stirred, and he wouldn’t let go now. Nothing would satisfy him but a full explanation.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed,’ he said in excuse, ‘you interest me. No one had ever taken me on as you did outside that courtroom. You were only just eighteen and, apart from your fair-weather friends, you were on your own. I was older, surrounded by family and a legal team, but nothing stopped you. There’s nothing wrong with asserting your rights and showing loyalty to your family—that’s something I really get. You were right to stand your ground—and right to rage at me. I was a bastard.’

‘You admit it?’ Amusement cut through her anxiety for a few moments. ‘Maybe there’s hope for you yet.’

She should have known that Damon would take advantage of this lighter mood. He jumped straight on it.

‘So, are you going to tell me what happened to the promises you made to yourself about developing your painting and your cooking, and all those other dreams?’

‘What is it they say about promises?’ she countered. ‘Aren’t they like pie crusts, made to be broken?’

Damon’s gaze sharpened on her face. ‘If there’s one thing I won’t believe it’s that you gave up your dreams easily. There must be something big you’re not telling me.’

‘There is,’ she agreed. ‘It’s called life.’

He looked at her sceptically.

‘Life moves on, Damon, and we have to move with it.’

Eleven years of fighting, with her only goal being to make a good life for Thea. Her goal remained the same today, and it didn’t allow for dreams.

‘That’s enough,’ he declared, swinging her into his arms. ‘I won’t send you back with a frown on your face.

She laughed. It was such a relief to escape the dangerous topic.

Damon carried her across the shells to the sea so they could swim back to the boat. She exhaled raggedly when he set her down at the water’s edge and his hands skimmed her breasts. She stared into his eyes, wondering if it was wrong to feel this happy, and if she’d be made to pay. If happiness was an indulgence she didn’t deserve she was going to be in debt for the rest of her life, because she was drowning in the stuff.

She sucked in a breath as Damon’s hands touched her breasts. ‘Your breasts are fuller than I remember. And your nipples are a deeper, rosier pink—’

Pregnancy, she thought, immediately tensing. She was right not to count on happiness lasting. It hadn’t even made it back to the boat.

‘I’m older,’ she dismissed with a shrug.

He huffed a laugh. ‘So old,’ he agreed dryly, adding, ‘You never could take a compliment, could you, Lizzie?’

As Damon stared into her eyes, as if searching for the truth he knew she was hiding, she grew increasingly anxious. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, worrying about Thea, worrying about Damon, worrying about everything...

* * *

‘Time enough,’ he soothed, running his fingertips down her cheek to her lips. ‘We’ll be back before two. We can see the house another time. I blame you for being so irresistible.’

As he took Lizzie’s face between his hands he felt her tremble. His fingers ploughed into her hair, his thumbs caressed her jawbone just below her ears, but she couldn’t be soothed and when he kissed her he felt tears on her face.

He blamed himself. He’d been so busy driving forward after the trial, trying to make everything right again for his father, that he hadn’t spared a thought for Lizzie, and now he could only imagine what she’d been through.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered as her shoulders shook beneath his han

ds. ‘This is my fault. The way I treated you was—’

‘No. Please don’t say that,’ she argued fiercely. ‘You’re a good man, Damon. If your father hadn’t spoken up mine would have destroyed even more people. I didn’t want to see his faults then, but I can see them now.’

‘We should get back,’ he murmured.

‘Yes,’ she said, staring into his eyes.

* * *

Damon’s kisses were drugging reminders of a time she would never forget. His body pressed against hers was a reminder her of how safe she felt in his arms. Fate was cruel—acting as if they were meant to be together, meant to have had Thea, meant to meet again in Stavros’s restaurant and here on the island. Fate was taunting them, she suspected.

Damon pulled away first and glanced out to sea at the powerboat in a silent signal that their idyll was over. They both had to return to their lives and to reality, and to all the problems that lay ahead of them.

Lifting her chin, she said, ‘I’m ready if you are.’

The first thing she did when they were back on the powerboat was check the clock, to make sure she would be in good time to catch the local bus to Thea’s concert. She felt embarrassed when Damon caught her looking, and wondered if he thought she was trying to hurry the time away.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly.

He made a sound of acknowledgement, but there was plenty to do as he prepared the powerboat for leaving, and no more time for conversation. Not that there was anything left to say—not before she’d spoken to Thea.

* * *

He was frustrated by Lizzie’s reluctance to admit that there was something troubling her. She trusted him enough to have sex with him, but not enough to allow him to help her. What could be that bad?

After eleven years he would have been more surprised if they didn’t have things to tell each other, but if it was another man, and that was why she couldn’t say anything, then she was no better than her father. He refused to believe that of her.

He should have asked her straight out—would have done if they had devoted more time to talking and less time to sex. He might expect the Greek community to close around her, but why hadn’t Stavros said something? Why hadn’t Iannis? Didn’t they trust him either?