Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks
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The awful day they found him? Darius’s hurt and anger blocked out the rest of his father’s words as Eugenios continued feebly, “I had no money. No job. I couldn’t let my family starve. You don’t know what that does to a man, to have nothing…”
It was the most his father had ever spoken to him. And Darius’s cold reply had haunted him ever since.
“So you had nothing then, huh, Dad? Well, guess what? You have nothing now. You ignored me my whole childhood for nothing. You have nothing. You are nothing.”
He’d hung up the phone.
An hour later, his father had quietly died of a heart attack in his Queens apartment, sinking to his kitchen floor, where he was found later by a neighbor.
Darius’s hands tightened to fists against the window.
His father had never been demonstrative. In Darius’s childhood, there had been no hugs and very little praise. Even the attention of criticism was rare.
But Darius and his grandmother hadn’t starved. Eugenios had provided for them. He’d taught his work ethic by example. He’d worked hard, trying to give his son a better life.
And after all his years of stoically supporting them, after he’d lost his job and money, Darius had scorned him.
Remembering it now, he felt agonizing shame.
He hadn’t wanted to remember the last words he’d spoken to his proud Greek father. So instead he’d sought vengeance on Howard Spencer, carefully blaming him alone.
Darius had thought if he never loved anyone, he’d never feel pain; and if he was rich, he’d be happy.
Look at me now, he thought bitterly, surveying the elegant penthouse. Surrounded by money. And never more alone.
He missed Letty.
Craved her desperately.
He loved her.
Darius looked up in shock.
He’d never stopped loving her.
All these years, he’d tried to pretend he didn’t. Tried to control her, to possess her, to pretend he didn’t care. He’d hidden his love away like a coward, afraid of the pain and shame of possible loss, while Letty let her love shine for all the world to see.
He’d thought Letty weak? He took a shuddering breath. She was the strongest person he knew. She’d offered him loyalty, kindness, self-sacrifice. She’d offered him every bit of her heart and soul. And in return, he’d offered her money.
Darius clawed back his hair. She was right. He’d tried to buy her. But money didn’t make the man.
Love did.
Darius loved her. He was completely, wildly in love with Letty. He wanted to be her husband. To live with her. To raise their baby. To be happy. To be home.
His eyes narrowed.
But how? How could he show her he had more to offer? How could he convince her to forgive him?
Forgiveness. His lips twisted with the bitter irony. The very thing he’d refused to give her all these months, he would now be begging for…
But for her, he’d do anything. He set his jaw. With the same total focus he’d built his empire, he would win back his wife.
Over the next month, he tried everything.
He respected her demand that he stay away from her, even after his friend Velazquez sent him a link to a birth announcement, and he saw his son had been safely born, weighing seven pounds and fourteen ounces. Both mother and baby were doing well.
Darius had jumped up, overwhelmed with the need to go see them in the hospital, to hold them in his arms.
But he knew bursting into her room against her express wishes would have only made things worse, not better. So he restrained himself, though it took all his self-control. He cleaned out a flower shop and sent all the flowers and toys and gifts to her maternity suite at the hospital. Anonymously.
Then he’d waited hopefully.
He’d found out later that she’d immediately forwarded all the flowers, toys and gifts straight to the sick children’s ward.
Well played, he’d thought with a sigh. But he wasn’t done. He’d contacted Mildred and she’d sent him via courier the jewelry bag he’d left in his office. He’d sent it to Fairholme, again anonymously.
A few days later he received a thank-you card from Mrs. Pollifax, stating that the earrings had been sold and the money donated to the housekeeper’s favorite charity, an animal shelter on Long Island.
He’d ground his teeth, but doggedly kept trying. Over the next week, he sent gifts addressed to Letty. He sent a card congratulating her on the baby. On Thanksgiving, he even had ten pies from her favorite bakery delivered to her at Fairholme.
Pies she immediately forwarded to a homeless shelter.
As the rain of November changed to the snows of December, Darius’s confidence started to wane. Once, in a moment of weakness, he drove by Fairholme late at night, past the closed gate.
But she was right. He couldn’t even see the house.
After the pie incident, Darius gave up sending gifts. When she continued to refuse his calls, he stopped those, too. He kept writing heartfelt letters, and for a few weeks, he was hopeful, until they were all returned at once, unopened.
His baby son was now four weeks old. The thought made him sick with grief. Darius hadn’t seen him. Hadn’t held him. He didn’t even know his name.
His wife wanted to divorce him. His son didn’t have a father. Darius felt like a failure.
In the past, he would have taken his sense of grief and powerlessness and hired the most vicious, shark-infested law firm in Manhattan to punish her, to file for full custody.
But he didn’t want that.
He wanted her.
He wanted his family back.
Finally, as Christmas approached, he knew he was out of ideas. He had only one card left to play. But when he went to see his lawyer, the man’s jaw dropped.
“If you do this, Mr. Kyrillos, in my opinion you’re a fool.”
He was right. Darius was a fool. Because this was his last desperate hope.
But was he brave enough to actually go through with it? Could he jump off that cliff, and take a gamble that would either win him back the woman he loved, or cost him literally everything?
The afternoon of Christmas Eve Darius got the package from his lawyer. He was holding it in his hands, pacing his penthouse apartment like a trapped animal when his phone rang. Lifting it from his pocket, he saw the number from Fairholme.
His heart started thudding frantically. He snatched it up so fast he almost dropped it before he placed it against his ear. “Letty?”
But it wasn’t his wife. Instead, the voice on the line belonged to the last person he’d ever imagined would call him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“IT’S YOUR VERY first Christmas,” Letty crooned to her tiny baby, walking him through Fairholme’s great hall. She was already dressed for Christmas Eve dinner in a long scarlet velvet dress and soft kid leather bootees. She’d dressed her newborn son in an adorable little Santa outfit.
She’d asked Mrs. Pollifax to make all her father’s holiday favorites, ham, plum pudding, potatoes, in hopes of tempting him to eat more than his usual scant bites. They’d even brought the dining table into the great hall, beside the big stone fireplace, so they could have dinner beneath the enormous Christmas tree.
Letty wanted this Christmas to be perfect. Because she knew it would be her father’s last. The doctor had said yesterday that Howard’s body was failing rapidly. It would likely be only days now.
Her heart twisted with grief. Her only comfort was that she’d tried her best to make his last few weeks special.
A lump rose in Letty’s throat as she looked up at the two-story-high tree, decorated with sparkling lights and a mix of ornaments, old and new. Some of them Letty had treasured since childhood. And now they were back here, where they belonged. Funny to think she had Darius to thank for that. If he hadn’t found her in Brooklyn and stopped her from taking that desperate bus ride out of the city, the ornaments would have been long lost to a junk dealer or the landfill.
Without him, she wouldn’t be here now. Her father couldn’t have come to Fairholme for his last Christmas, nor would her baby be here for his first one. It was because of Darius.
She missed him. No matter how much she denied it. No matter how she tried not to.
Every time some thoughtful gift had arrived at the house, she’d pictured how her father had looked in the hospital, so pale and alone. She’d remembered how Darius had taken her love for granted, and selfishly lied. She’d told herself she was done loving someone who could never love her back.
But as the gifts tapered off, and the phone calls stopped, and the letters stopped arriving in the mail, she hadn’t felt triumphant. At all.
“I hate him,” she said aloud. “I never want to see him again.” She wasn’t sure she sounded convincing, even to her own ears. So turning to her son, she held out one of the homemade ornaments. “Look!”
“Gah,” the baby replied, waving his little hands unsteadily.
“You’re so smart!” She let him feel the soft fabric of the dove against his cheek, then put it back on the tree before he tried to eat it. “Your grandma Constance made that,” she said softly. “I just wish she could have met you.”
Her six-week-old baby smiled back, Letty would swear he did, even though her father continued to rather annoyingly claim it was only gas. Letty knew her own baby, didn’t she?
Even though Darius didn’t.
The thought caused an unpleasant jolt. She’d thought she was doing the right thing to exclude him. She couldn’t allow such a heartless man near her baby. Even if he was the father.
But Darius hadn’t even laid eyes on their baby, or held him, or heard the sweet gurgle of his voice or his angry cry when he wasn’t fed fast enough. Darius had already missed so much. Six weeks of sleepless nights, of exhaustion and confusion.
But also six weeks of getting to know this brand-new little person. From the moment her son had been placed in her arms at the hospital, Letty had felt her heart expand in a way she’d never known before.
Darius didn’t know that feeling. He didn’t know his son at all. Because of her actions.
Two weeks ago, her baby had been irritable and sleepless at midnight, so she’d wrapped him in a warm blanket and put him in the stroller to walk him up and down the long driveway, behind the gate. Then she’d seen a dark sports car driving slowly by.
Darius! She’d practically run to the gate, panting as she pushed the stroller ahead of her. But by the time she reached the gate, the car was long gone. For long moments she stared through the bars of the gate, looking bleakly down the dark, empty road, hearing only the waves crashing down on the shore. And she’d realized for the first time how empty the house felt without him, even with her father and her baby and all the household staff. She missed him.
No. I don’t, she told herself desperately. And if she hadn’t filed for divorce yet or hired an attorney, that was only because she just hadn’t had the time. Taking care of a newborn, caring for her father and decorating for Christmas would be enough to keep anyone busy, wouldn’t it?
Letty’s lips twisted downward. She’d said things that would never be forgiven. She’d made her choice clear. She’d used his every olive branch as a stick to stab him with.
That car probably hadn’t even been his. He’d probably moved on entirely, and if she ever heard from him again, it would be only via his lawyer, demanding custody. She stiffened at the thought.
Carrying her baby up to the nursery, she fed him, rocking him for nearly an hour in the glider until he slept and she was nearly asleep herself. She smiled down at his sweet little face. His cheeks were already growing chubby. Tucking him gently in his crib for his late afternoon nap, she turned on the baby monitor and crept out of the darkened nursery.
She closed the door softly behind her. Light from the leaded glass windows reflected against the glossy hardwood floors and oak paneling of the second-floor hallway, resting with a soft haze on an old framed family photo on the wall. She looked at her own chubby face when she’d been just a toddler with two parents beaming behind her.
Trying to ignore the ache in her throat, Letty started to turn toward the stairs. Then she heard low male voices coming from down the hall.
Her father’s bedroom was the nicest and biggest, the room he’d once shared with her mother, with a view of the sea. He rarely got up from his bed anymore, except when Letty managed to cajole him into his wheelchair and take him down in the elevator for a stroll around the winter garden, or to sit in a comfortable spot near the fire, beneath the Christmas tree, as the baby lay nearby.
But the male voice Letty heard talking to her father didn’t sound like Paul, his nurse. Who was it? Frowning, she drew closer.
“Yes,” she heard her father say, his voice a little slurred. “Always a good kid.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying that, after everything.”
Hearing the visitor’s voice, low and clear, Letty’s knees went weak outside her father’s door. What was Darius doing here? How had he gotten into Fairholme?
“You weren’t so bad. Just prickly, like your father. Eugenios was the best employee I ever had. We used to talk about you. He loved you.”
“He had a funny way of showing it.” Her husband’s voice wasn’t bitter, just matter-of-fact.
Howard gave a laugh that ended in a wheeze. “In our generation, fathers showed love differently.”
“Yet Letty always knew you loved her.”
“I didn’t grow up with your father’s fears.” Howard paused. “From the age of fifteen, he was your grandmother’s sole support. When you came along, he lost any chance of a job in Greece.”
“I know.”
“His greatest fear was of not providing for you.” Coughing a laugh, Howard added, “Maybe if I’d been a little more careful about that myself, I wouldn’t have left my daughter destitute while I spent years in prison. It’s only because of you that we’re back home now. That’s why I called. I’m grateful.”
Darius’s voice was suddenly urgent. “Then convince Letty to stay.”
“Stay? Where would she go?”
“She says as soon as you’re dead, she’s leaving New York.”
Howard gave a low laugh. “That sounds like her. Foolish as her old man. Can’t see the love right in front of her eyes, has to flee her own happiness because she’s afraid. Actually, now that I think about it, she sounds like you.”
Letty’s heart was pounding as she leaned against the oak-paneled wall beside the open door, holding absolutely still as she listened intently.
Silence. Then Darius said in a voice so low she almost couldn’t hear, “I’m sorry I blamed you for my father’s death all these years. The truth is, the person I really hated was myself. I said something terrible to my dad right before he died. I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Whatever it was,” Howard said simply, “your father forgave you long ago. He knew you loved him. Just as he loved you. He was proud of you, Darius. And seeing that you were brave enough to come here today, I am, too.”
Her father was proud of the man who’d treated her so badly, who’d lied to her? Letty sucked in her breath with an astonished little squeak.
There was a pause.
“Letty,” her father said drily, “I know you’re there. Come in.”
Her heart was in her throat. She wanted to flee but knew she’d only look foolish and cowardly. Lifting her chin, she went into her father’s room.
His bedroom was full of light from the bay window. Her father was stretched out beneath the blankets, propped up by pillows, his nightstand covered with pill bottles. His gaunt face smiled up at her weakly, his eyes glowing with love.
Then, with a deep breath, Letty looked at the man standing beside the bed.
Tall and broad-shouldered and alive, Darius seemed to radiate power. For a moment, her eyes devoured his image. He was dressed simply in a dark shirt, dark jeans. His hands lifted, then fell to his sides as he looked at her, as if he had to physically restrain himself from touching her. But his dark eyes seared her. Their heartbreak and yearning cut her to the bone.
Her body reacted involuntarily, stumbling back as her heart pounded with emotion. Fury. Regret. Longing…
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“He’s here to meet his son,” her father said.
She whirled on her father, feeling betrayed. “Dad!”
“And I want him to stay for Christmas Eve dinner,” he continued calmly.
She stared at him in shock. “No!”
Her father gave her a weakened version of his old charming smile. “Surely you wouldn’t refuse your dying father his last Christmas wish?”
No. Of course she couldn’t. She ground her teeth. “He kept me from you for two months!”
Her father stared her down. “Only a little longer than you’ve kept him from his son.”
“I would like to meet him,” Darius said quietly. “But if you don’t want me around after that, I won’t stay.”
Trembling, she tossed her head defiantly. “Did he tell you the baby’s name?”
“No.”
“It’s Howard.” She lifted her chin, folding her arms. “Howard Eugenios Spencer.”
To her shock, Darius didn’t scowl or bluster. He didn’t even flinch. He just looked at her with that same strange glow of longing in his eyes.
“That’s not the name I would have chosen.” Triumph surged through her as she waited for him to be sarcastic and show his true colors in front of her father. Instead, he just said quietly, “His last name should be Kyrillos.”
Darius was upset only about the surname? Not about the fact that she’d named their precious baby son after her father—his hated enemy?
“Aren’t you furious?” she said, dropping her arms in bewilderment.
His lips curved as he looked down at her father, then slowly shook his head. “Not as much as I used to be.”
Darius came toward her. It took all Letty’s willpower not to step back from him as he towered over her. It wasn’t him she was afraid of, but herself. Her whole body was trembling with her own longing. Her need. She missed him.
But she couldn’t. She’d made her choice! She wouldn’t be married to a man who didn’t love her!
“Please let me see my son,” he said humbly. He bowed his head, as if waiting for her verdict.
“Let him,” her father said.
Looking between the two men, she knew she was outnumbered. She snapped, “Fine.”
Turning on her heel, she walked out. She didn’t look back to see if Darius was following her. Her hands were trembling.
All these weeks when she’d pushed him away, she’d pictured him as angry, arrogant, heartless. It was why she hadn’t been tempted to open his letters—why would she, when she knew he’d only be yelling at her?
She’d never once imagined Darius looking at her the way he did now, with such heartbreaking need. But it wasn’t just desire. He had an expression in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since—
No! She wasn’t going to let her own longing talk her into seeing things in his eyes that weren’t there, things that didn’t exist.
Pressing a finger to her lips, she quietly pushed open the nursery door and crept into the shadowy room, motioning for him to follow. Darius came in behind her.
Then, as they both stood over the crib, Letty made the mistake of looking at her husband when he saw their son for the very first time.
Darius’s dark eyes turned fierce, almost bewildered with love when he looked at their sleeping baby. Tenderly, he reached out in the semidarkness and stroked his dark downy head as he slept.
“My son,” he whispered. “My sweet boy.”
A lump rose in her throat so huge it almost choked her. And she suddenly knew that Darius wasn’t the only one who’d been heartless.
What had she done?
Blinded by furious grief at his lie about her father, Letty had actually kept Darius from his own firstborn son. For six weeks.
Anguish and regret rushed through her in a torrent of pain. Even if Darius could never love her, she had no doubt that he loved their baby. Especially as she watched him now, gently stroking their baby’s small back through his Santa onesie as the sleeping child gave a soft snuffle in the shadowy room.
She’d had no right to steal his child away.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. He looked up.
“You’re sorry?”
Unable to speak for misery, she nodded.
Reaching out in the shadowy nursery, beneath the hazy colors of the goose girl fresco, Darius put his hand gently on Letty’s shoulder, and she shuddered beneath his touch.
“Letty…there’s something you should know.”
Their eyes locked, and she saw something in his black eyes that made the world tremble beneath her feet.
Panic rushed through her heart. Seeing Darius make peace with her father, seeing him look so lovingly at their baby, had cracked open her soul and everything she hadn’t wanted to feel had rushed in.
She’d painted him so badly in her mind. She’d called him a monster. And yes, he never should have lied about her father.
But when she’d said horrible things and threatened to take his child permanently away, he hadn’t hired some awful lawyer to fight her. He’d done what she asked, and stayed away. Obviously at great emotional cost.
Now, she saw his sensual lips part, heard his hoarse intake of breath and knew whatever he was about to say would change her life forever. He was going to tell her he was done with her. She’d won. He’d given up. Now he wanted to talk like reasonable adults about sharing custody of their son.
She’d destroyed their marriage with her anger and pride. She’d told herself she’d rather be alone than married to a man who didn’t love her. Now she suddenly couldn’t bear to hear him speak the words that would end it…
“No,” she choked out.
Turning, she fled the nursery. She ran down the hall, down the stairs, her heart pounding, gasping for breath.
She heard him coming down after her. “Letty!”
She didn’t stop. Pushing off the stairs, she ran outside, into the snow.
Her mother’s rose garden was barren in winter, nothing but thorny vines and dead leaves covered in a blanket of white. Letty’s soft black boots stumbled forward, her long red dress dragging behind, scarlet against the snow.
But he swiftly caught her, roughly pushing her wrists against the outside wall of the greenhouse with its flash of exotic greenery behind the steamy glass. She struggled, but he wouldn’t let go.
She felt his heat. His power. She felt the strength of her own longing for this man, whom she continued to love in the face of despair.
“Let me go,” she cried.
“Forgive me,” Darius choked out. He lowered his head against hers. She heard the heavy gasp of his breath. “You were right, Letty. About everything. I’m so sorry.”
Her lips parted. She looked up at him in shock.
“You’re sorry?” she whispered. “I kept you from our baby.”
“You were right to kick me out of your life.” He cupped her face in both his hands. “I blamed you and your father for so much. I blamed everyone but the person really at fault. Myself.”
“Darius—”
“No.” He held up his hand. “Let me say this. I don’t know if I’ll get another chance.”
All around them in the silent white garden, soft snow began to fall from the lowering gray clouds. Letty’s heart was suddenly in her throat. Now he was going to tell her that they were better off apart…
“You’re right, Letty,” he said in a low voice. “I did try to buy you. I thought money was all I had to offer anyone. I thought I could selfishly claim your love, while being cowardly enough to protect my own heart. But I failed.” He gave a low laugh. “The truth is, I failed long ago.”
His dark eyes had a suspicious gleam. Surely Darius Kyrillos, the ruthless Greek billionaire, couldn’t have tears in his eyes? No. It must be the cold winter wind, whipping against his skin.
“I loved you, Letty. It terrified me. My whole life, all I’ve ever known of love is loss. Losing you all those years ago almost destroyed me. I never wanted to feel like that again. So I buried my soul in ice. Then when I saw you again, when I first took you to my bed, everything changed. Against my will, the ice cracked. But even then I was afraid.” Taking a deep breath, he lifted his eyes to hers. “I’m not afraid anymore.”