Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks

It was true, she realized. She had a new last name. When she updated her passport, she’d no longer be Letitia Spencer, the daughter of the famous white-collar criminal, but Letitia Kyrillos, the wife of a self-made billionaire. Just by marrying, she’d become an entirely different person. What a strange thought.

But maybe this new woman, Letitia Kyrillos, would know how to be happy. Maybe their marriage, which had been so bleak at the start, could someday be full of joy, as her own parents’ marriage had been.

She just had to change Darius’s mind about her father. It wouldn’t be hard.

Like making it snow in July.

One of Darius’s female cousins came back out of the villa and pulled on his arm, talking rapidly in Greek, even as she smiled apologetically at Letty.

“They need to move the big table,” he explained. “To get the terrace ready for the party tonight.”

“What party?”

“They wouldn’t let us come all this way without making a big fuss.” He grinned. “There’s a party tonight to welcome you as my bride. Only family and friends from the village have been invited…”

“Good,” she said, relieved.

“Which, naturally, means the entire island will be here, and a few people from neighboring islands, as well.”

Her heart sank to her sandals at the thought of all those people judging her, possibly finding her unworthy of being Darius’s bride. She whispered, “What if they don’t like me?”

Reaching out, Darius lifted her chin. “Of course they will,” he said softly. “They will because I do.”

As the hot Greek sun caressed her skin in the flower-dappled terrace, the dark promise in his gaze made her shiver.

As his relatives bustled back out on the terrace, with maids following them, they started clearing dishes, wiping the table and sweeping the terrace.

Letty looked around anxiously. “Ask them how I can help.”

He snorted. “If you think they’ll allow either of us to lift a finger, you’re out of your mind.”

“We can’t just sit here, while they do all the work!”

“Watch this.” Pushing his chair back, Darius rose from the table and said casually in English, “Hey, Athina, hand me that broom.”

“Forget it, Darius,” his cousin replied indignantly in the same language, yanking the broom out of his reach. “You sent my sons to college!”

“You gave me a job when I needed work,” a man added in heavily accented English, as he lifted fairy lights to dangle from the terrace’s leafy trellis. “We’re doing this. Don’t think you’re getting out of it!”

They all gave a low buzz of agreement.

Looking at Letty, Darius shrugged. She sighed, seeing she was outmatched. His great-aunt was now, in fact, shooing them away with a stream of steady Greek, a mischievous smile on her kindly, wizened face.

Letty drew closer to him. “So what should we do with ourselves?”

Darius’s eyes darkened as he said huskily, “We are on our honeymoon…”

She shivered at his closeness and at the tempting thought of going back to the bedroom. But she was distracted by the sweep of the brooms and the loud cries of the relatives and house staff bustling back and forth across the villa as they cleaned and set up for the party, all the while watching Darius and Letty out of the corners of their eyes with frank interest and indulgent smiles.

“I couldn’t,” Letty whispered, blushing beneath all the stares. “If we stay, I’ll feel like we should help cook and clean.”

“Then let’s not stay.” He took her hand. “Let me show you the island.”

He drew her out of the enormous, luxurious villa, past the gate and out onto unpaved road. Looking around, she saw the rural rolling hills were covered with olive and pomegranate trees, dotted with small whitewashed houses beneath the sun. But there was one thing she didn’t see.

“Where are all the cars? The paved roads?”

“We don’t have cars. Heraklios is too small and mountainous, and there are only a few hundred residents. There are a few cobblestoned streets by the waterfront, but they’re too winding and tight for any car.”

“So how do you get around?”

“Donkey.”

She almost tripped on her own feet. She looked at him incredulously. “You’re joking.”

He grinned. “I managed to put in a helicopter pad, and also a landing strip, at great expense, and it isn’t even usable if the wind is too strong. Here we transport most things by sea.” As they walked closer to an actual village clinging to a rocky cliff, he pointed to a small building on a hill. “That was my school.”

“It looks like one room.”

“It is. After primary school, kids have to take a ferry to a bigger school the next island over.” As they continued walking, he pointed to a small taverna. “That’s where I tasted my first sip of retsina.” His nose wrinkled. “I spit it out. I still don’t like it.”

“And you call yourself a Greek,” she teased. His eyebrow quirked at her challenge.

“I’d take you in and let you taste it, except—” he looked more closely at the closed door “—it looks like old Mr. Papadakis is already up at the villa. Probably setting up drinks.”

“The whole town’s closing—just for our wedding reception?”

“It’s a small island. I don’t think you realize how much pull I have around here.”

Letty slowed when she saw a ruined, lonely-looking villa at the top of the hill, above the village. “What’s that?”

His lips tightened, curled up at the edges. “That was my mother’s house.”

“Oh,” she breathed. She knew his mother had abandoned him at birth. He’d never talked much about her, not even when they were young. “No one lives there anymore?”

“My mother left the island right after I was born, her parents soon after. It seems they couldn’t stand the shame of my existence,” he added lightly.

She flinched, her heart aching. “Oh, Darius.”

“My mother moved to Paris. She died in a car crash when I was around four.” He shrugged. “I heard her parents died a few years ago. I can’t remember where or how.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why? I didn’t love them. I don’t mourn them.”

“But your mother. Your grandparents…”

“Calla Halkias died in a limousine, married to an aristocrat.” His voice was cold as he looked back to the ghostly ruin on the hill. “Just as I’m sure she would have wanted. The prestigious life her parents expected for her.”

A lump rose in her throat as she thought of Darius as a child on this island, looking up at the imposing villa of the people who’d tossed him out like garbage. She didn’t know what to say, so she held his hand tightly. “Did you ever forgive them?”

“For what?”

“They were your family, and they abandoned you.”

His lips pressed down. “My mother gave birth to me. I’m glad about that. But I wouldn’t call them family. From everything I’ve heard, they were a total disaster. Like…” He hesitated. But she knew.

“Like my family?” she said quietly.

He paused. “Your mother was a great lady. She was always kind. To everyone.”

“Yes,” she said over the lump in her throat.

“My yiayiá raised me. Our house didn’t have electricity or plumbing, but I always knew she loved me. When I finally made my fortune, I had the old shack razed and built a villa in its place. The biggest villa this island has ever seen.” Looking up at the ruin, he gave a grim smile. “When I was young, the Halkias family was the most powerful here. Now I am.”

She noticed he’d never said if he forgave them. She bit her lip. “But, Darius…”

“It’s in the past. I want to live in the present. And shape the future.” Taking both her hands in his own, Darius looked down at her seriously on the dusty road beneath the hot Greek sun. “Promise me, Letty. You’ll always do what’s best for our family.”

“I promise,” she said, meaning it with all her heart.

Lowering his head, he whispered, “And I promise the same.”

He softly kissed her, as if sealing the vow. Drawing back, he searched her gaze. Then he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her in another way entirely.

Feeling the heat of his lips against hers, the rough scrape of the bristles on his chin, she clung to him, lost in her own desire. He was her husband now. Her husband.

He finally pulled away. “Come with me.”

He led her to the end of the dusty road, through the winding cobblestones of the small village of whitewashed houses. On the other side, they went through a scrub brush thicket of olive trees. She held his hand tightly as the branches scraped her arms, and they went down a sharp rocky hill. Then suddenly, they were in a hidden cove on a deserted white sand beach.

Letty’s eyes went wide in amazement. The popular beaches of the Hamptons and even around Fairholme would have been packed on a gloriously warm September day. But this beach was empty. “Where is everyone?”

“I told you. They’re at the villa, getting ready for the party.”

“But—” she gestured helplessly “—there must be tourists, at least?”

He shook his head. “We don’t have a hotel. The tourists are at the resorts up in Corfu. So we all know each other here. Everyone is a friend or relative, or at least a friend of a relative. It’s a community. One big family.”

No wonder this island felt like a world out of time. She felt her heart twist. Turning away, she looked around at the hidden cove with the white sand beach against the blue Ionian Sea and tried to smile. “It’s wonderful.”

“You’re missing Fairholme,” he said quietly.

She looked down at the white sand. “It’s been ten years. It’s stupid. Any psychiatrist would tell me it’s time to let it go.”

“I miss it, too.” He grinned. “Do you remember the beach at Fairholme? Nothing but rocks.”

“Yes, and the flower meadow where you taught me to dance.”

“What about the pond where I tried to catch frogs and you always wanted to give them names and take them home—?”

Suddenly their words were tumbling over each other.

“The brilliant color of the trees in autumn—”

“Roller-skating down the hallways—”

“The secret passageway behind the library where you’d always hide when you were upset—”

“Your mother’s rose garden,” Darius said with a sudden laugh, “where she caught me that time I tried a cigarette. My first and last time—”

“And how Mrs. Pollifax scolded us whenever we tracked mud into her freshly cleaned kitchen.” Letty grinned. “But she always gave us milk and cookies after we’d made it right. Though it took a while. You weren’t very good at mopping.”

“We always turned it into a game.”

The two of them smiled at each other on the deserted beach.

Letty’s smile slipped away. “But we’ll never see Fairholme again.”

Darius stared at her for a long moment, then abruptly started taking off his shoes. “The sea should be warm.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting in.” He leaned over to unbuckle her sandals. “And you’re coming with me.”

Barefoot, they went splashing out into the sea. Letty delighted in the feel of the water caressing her feet, then her calves and finally knees. She was tempted to go deeper into the water, to float her pregnant body in the seductive waves that would make her feel light as air. She took a few more steps, until the sea lapped the hem of her white sundress.

Splashing behind her, Darius suddenly pulled her into his arms.

As the waves swirled around them, he kissed her, and there was no one to see but the birds soaring across the sky. For hours, or maybe just minutes, they kissed in the hidden cove, between the bright blue sea and sky, beneath the hot Greek sun. He ran his hands over her bare shoulders, over her thin cotton sundress, as the salty sea spray clung to their skin and hair.

Waves swirled around them, sucking the sand beneath their toes, as the tide started to come in. The waves crashed higher, moving up against their thighs.

Finally pulling away, Darius looked down at her intently. She felt his dark gaze sear her body. Sear her heart.

“Letty, the house we grew up in might be gone,” he whispered. “But we still have each other.”

The lowering afternoon sun shone around the edges of his dark hair, making Darius shimmer like the dream he was to her.

And it was then Letty knew the worst had happened. The doom and disaster. And it had happened more swiftly than she’d ever expected.

She loved him.

All of him.

The man he’d been.

The man he was.

The man he could be.

Since the February night they’d conceived their child, Letty had tried to convince herself that he’d changed irrevocably. That she hated him. That he’d lost her love forever.

It had all been a lie.

Even in her greatest pain, she’d never stopped loving him. How could she? He was the love of her life.

Glancing back at the lowering sun, Darius sighed. “Can’t be late for our own party. We’d better get back to the villa.” He glanced down at his shorts, now splattered with sand and seawater. “We might have to clean up a little.”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“We’ll finish this later,” he said huskily, kissing her bare shoulder. He whispered, “I can hardly wait to make love to you, Mrs. Kyrillos.”

As they splashed their way to the beach, and made their way up the shore, Letty stumbled.

He caught her, then frowned, looking at her closely. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” she said, hiding the ache in her throat, struggling to hold back tears. It wasn’t totally a lie. She wasn’t hurt.

But she knew she soon would be.

One day married, and her heart was already lost.

CHAPTER NINE

DARIUS NEARLY GASPED when he first saw Letty at the party that night. When she came out onto the terrace, she looked so beautiful she seemed to float through the twilight.

She wore a simple white maxi dress, which fit perfectly over her full breasts and baby bump. The soft fabric showed off the creamy blush of her skin and bright hazel of her eyes. Bright pink flowers hung in her long dark hair.

As the red sun was setting into the sea below the cliffs, three hundred people on the terrace burst into spontaneous applause amid a cacophony of approving Greek.

Darius’s heart was in his throat as he looked at her. He was dazzled. He thought she’d put Aphrodite, freshly risen from the sea, completely to shame.

And the fact that he’d even have such a ridiculously poetic thought stunned him.

As she came closer, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling shyly.

He did not touch her. He was almost afraid to. She was simply too desirable, and after their hours of kissing on the beach, he did not know how much more temptation his self-control could take. They’d been married for over twenty-four hours, but had not yet made love.

The party was torture. It lasted for hours, testing his resolve. If it had been any other situation, he would have told everyone to go to hell and taken his bride straight to bed.

But this was his family. His village. He couldn’t be rude to them or reject the warm welcome they gave his bride.

His whole body ached to possess her. He could think of nothing else. It was causing him physical pain. He was just glad he was wearing a long, loosely tailored jacket and loose trousers so the whole village could not discuss with amused approval his obvious desire for his bride.

The party was over the top, as only village affairs could be, with music, drinking and dancing. A feast had been lovingly prepared by his family and all the rest of the village. So many people rushed to Letty and started talking excitedly in Greek that she’d announced she planned to start taking Greek lessons as soon as possible. Some of his cousins immediately started cheering, and when Darius translated her words for his elderly great-aunt, Theia Ioanna actually stood on tiptoe to kiss Letty on both cheeks. His family loved her.

Of course they did. Letty Kyrillos was the perfect bride. She would be the perfect wife and mother. Now he’d gotten her away from her father, there would be no bad influences in her life.

Darius would be the only one to claim her loyalty. And the expression in Letty’s eyes as she looked at him now—a mix of longing, hero worship and fear—did strange things to his insides. It made him feel oddly vulnerable, reminding him of the insecure, lovesick youth he’d once been for her.

No. He just desired her, he told himself firmly. He was appreciative that she was comporting herself as a proper Greek wife, with kindness and respect to his family. And he hoped—expected—that she would soon love him. It would make all their lives easier.

Darius did not intend to love her in return. He would never leave himself that vulnerable again. As the protector of their family, as a husband, as a father, as a man, it was his duty to be strong.

Letty’s heart was her weakness. It would not be his.

His great-aunt went to bed at midnight, and the rest of the older generation soon after, but with the ouzo flowing and loud music and enthusiastic dancing, his cousins and many of the younger villagers remained well into the wee hours. It wasn’t until the ouzo was gone and the musicians were falling asleep over their instruments that the last guests finally took the hint and departed, after many congratulations and kisses for the newly married couple.

Darius and Letty were finally alone on the terrace, surrounded by streamers and empty champagne glasses.

She looked at him, her eyes huge in the moonlight, the pink flowers wilting in her dark lustrous hair.

Without a word, he took her hand.

Leading her to their bedroom suite at the farthest end of the south wing, he closed the door behind them and opened the windows and sliding glass door to the balcony. The wind blew from the sea, twisting the translucent white curtains, illuminated by moonlight.

Turning back to her, he lifted her long dark hair from the nape of her neck and slowly unzipped her dress. In the hush of the night, it felt like an act that was almost holy.

Her dress dropped to the floor. She turned to him, her eyes luminous in the silvery light. Reaching up, she pulled off his jacket. She unbuttoned his shirt. He felt the soft brush of her hands against his chest and caught them in his own. She looked up at him questioningly.

A strange feeling was building in his heart. Desire, he reminded himself fiercely. I desire her. He kissed her hands—first one, then the other.

The wind blew against her hair, causing pink flower petals to float softly to the floor like a benediction. Without a word, he pulled her to the enormous bed.

This time, as they made love, there were no words beyond the language of touch. There was only pleasure and delight.

He’d thought he’d known ecstasy the night they’d made love over and over in his Manhattan penthouse.

But this was something else. It felt different.

Why? Because they were married now, and she was permanently his? Because she knew him better than anyone on earth? Because she’d truly joined his family?

Whatever the reason, as he made love to her on this, their first true wedding night, it felt sacred.

It felt like…

Happiness.

After they’d both joined and shattered like a supernova in each other’s arms, Darius held her as she slept. As he stared at the ceiling, her words on the beach floated back into his mind.

We’ll never see Fairholme again.

Her voice had been quietly despairing. As if she’d accepted bleak loss as her due.

Darius scowled. He didn’t accept that.

He suddenly wanted to give Letty back everything she’d lost. And more.

Careful not to wake her, he rose from the bed in the gray light of dawn. Going out onto the balcony, with its view of the wild gray sea, he made a quiet phone call to his long-suffering executive assistant in New York. Mildred Harrison had worked for him for seven years, so she didn’t even sound surprised that he’d be rude enough to call her so late.

“Pity you left New York right when you’re the city’s hero,” she said drily. “Your picture is on the cover of the Daily Post. Apparently you’re some kind of Robin Hood figure now, robbing from your own fortune to pay back Howard Spencer’s victims.”

“Glad I’m not there, then. We’ll be back in two weeks, by which time I expect the papers will all be insulting me again. Anything else?”

“That Brooklyn apartment building has been purchased as you requested. Your father-in-law—”

“Never call him that again,” Darius said tersely.

She cleared her throat. “Um, Mr. Spencer has been advised that he will be allowed to remain in the apartment for as long as he wishes, free of charge.”

“Good,” he said, already bored with the subject.

She paused. “There’s something else you should know.”

“Well?”

“The investigator following him says Spencer has been visiting an oncologist. Apparently he’s sick. Maybe dying.”

Darius’s eyes widened. Then he gave a snort. “It’s a trick.”

“Mr. Green didn’t think so. He managed to get his hands on the medical records. It seems legit.”

“Spencer must have paid the doctor off.”

“Maybe.” Mildred sounded doubtful. “But if it were my father, I’d still want to know.”

Yes, Darius thought. He looked back at the shadowy form of Letty sleeping in his bed. She would want to know. But there was no way he was telling her. Not when the old man was probably just trying once again to cause trouble between them.

At worst, Spencer probably had a cold and thought he could use it to get out of his well-deserved punishment. Darius was not going to let it happen.

“I won’t have my wife bothered,” he said shortly. “Spencer must have known he was being followed.”

“As you say, Mr. Kyrillos.”

He set his jaw. “I called you for another reason. I want to buy my wife a wedding gift.”

“Beyond the billions you’re already putting in trust for her father’s victims? We’ve had a whole team of accountants coming through here, by the way, working with the Feds to determine accurate payments, including those for third-party clients. We’re not really staffed for this…”

“You’ll sort it out. And at the end, I’ll send you and your husband to Miami for a week of well-deserved rest.”

“Rome,” she said firmly. “For three.”

He grinned. Mildred knew what she was worth. He respected that.

“Three,” he agreed. “But I need you to do something first. I want to buy a home.”

“Your penthouse is too small?”

“I have a special place in mind. Find out what it would cost.”

He explained, and she gave a low whistle. “All right, boss. I’ll call you soon as I know. What’s your ceiling?”

“Whatever it takes.”

After he hung up the phone, Darius went back to the king-size bed he shared with his pregnant bride. Joining her under the blankets, he wrapped his arm around her as she slept. He heard the birds singing as, outside the window, the sun started to rise.

Holding Letty in his arms, he suddenly saw the reward for everything he’d done right in his life. He had Letty. He’d have the rest. Home. Children. Joy. All the things he’d stopped dreaming about long ago. He would have it all.

And nothing, especially not her criminal of a father, would come between them.

As their private jet began its descent through the clouds toward New York City, Letty felt a mixed sense of relief and regret.

She was glad to be returning closer to her father. Darius had assured her that Howard was fine and living rent-free in their old apartment with a stipend to supply his needs. “Your father is spending his days playing chess with friends down at the park,” he’d told her irritably. She could only assume Darius had someone watching him, but she didn’t even mind because she was glad to know he was all right. It felt so wrong never to see him, never to call him.