The Greek's Secret Heir
He gripped his phone tighter. If this had something serious to do with Kristos and her daughter, surely Irena would have called him instead. His brows met in a frown. Her words, plus her tone, told him she’d meant every word.
“I can meet you there in half an hour.” He hadn’t planned on taking a lunch break, but would make an exception this once. The sooner this was over, the better.
“Thank you. I’ll see you there.” She hung up.
After letting his secretary know he’d be out of the office for an hour, he left in his car and headed up to Ano Poli in the traditional area of Salonica. The Byzantine church she referred to had been built on the spot with a fabulous view of the sea. The Apostle Paul was said to have spoken to the Thessalonians from that vantage point. Nico and Mara had taken a picnic up there, enthralled with the place and each other.
He parked near her white car. A busload of tourists arrived as he walked around the side of the monastery to the garden. She sat on a bench at the far end beneath a tree where they’d once eaten their picnic. The second she saw him, she stood. Today she wore an attractive light green skirt and blouse. Face it. She’d always looked fantastic in anything.
“Thank you for coming.” She acted frightened, which he found strange. “I wanted you to be alone because of what I have to say. Last night you walked away before I could tell you news that will not only change your life, but also that of your wife. You’ll know better than anyone how to tell her if that’s what you choose.”
What in the hell was she talking about? “My wife died eleven years ago.”
He heard a gasp before the color left her face. She couldn’t have faked that reaction or the way she sank back down on the bench, close to a faint. Maybe a minute passed before she spoke. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea...” Her haunted eyes lifted to his in pleading. “Nico... Dimitra is our daughter.”
He couldn’t have heard her correctly. “What did you say?”
“I thought of course you’d figured it out at Irena’s, but I know now from what you said that it didn’t occur to you.”
His body broke out in a cold sweat.
“You are her father. I told Dimitra you were called by the nickname Dino to protect her reputation after she was born to an underage woman who wasn’t married.”
It couldn’t be true, could it? Nico thought he must be losing his mind.
“I know we took precautions, but she was conceived anyway. When she was born, I had your name written on her birth certificate. My grandparents watched me sign it. Here’s the proof.” She reached for her purse and pulled out the paper.
His mind reeled. Incredulous, he sat and took the authentic-looking stamped and sealed document from her trembling hand and read it.
Certificate of Live Birth
Montfort Hospital, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
Stamped and dated May 14
Mother of child: Alexa Soriano Remis
Father of child: Nicholas Timon Angelis
Full name of child: Dimitra Angelis Remis
Signature of attending doctor, M. Viret
When he lifted his head, those moist sea-green eyes stared into his. A calm seemed to have come over her. “This morning our daughter heard for the first time that you are her father. After leaving her in a shell-shocked condition with my grandfather, I came directly to you. There was a reason I lied to you from the moment we collided in the sea. But that’s not the real story.”
He stood and paced for a minute, rubbing the back of his neck while he tried to clear his mind. “I left you pregnant—”
Her chin trembled. “Yes, but neither of us could have known at the time.”
The incredible news had rendered him speechless.
“Nico, you remember the myth we talked about where Hera almost caught Zeus with a mistress named Io? He turned Io into a heifer to deceive her. Hera wasn’t fooled. Driven by jealousy, she placed Io where the giant would always watch her so Io and Zeus could never be together.”
“Of course,” he whispered. Nico remembered every minute of their time together, the things they’d said and told each other. You didn’t forget things like that. To think that all these years Alexa had been raising their daughter. He couldn’t comprehend it.
She got up from the bench. “That myth is our story, Nico.”
“What do you mean?”