Bound To Her Greek Billionaire

That isn’t the answer I was hoping for. His father hadn’t given him his blessing and probably resented Nassos Rodino for making any of this possible.

If you’re a man, then you don’t need an answer.

Takis had felt rebuked. His mother remained silent as he left the room with a hurt too deep to express. After the talk with his father, he’d had the feeling his parent had already felt abandoned before he’d even approached him.

Combined with the pain of having recently lost his girlfriend, who’d been killed in a bus accident, he finally made the decision to leave home. She’d been the one he could confide in about his dreams.

After all their talks, she’d known he’d been afraid to leave his family in case they thought he was letting them down. But she’d encouraged him and told him to spread his wings. They’d talked about her joining him in New York at a later date.

With her gone, he’d had no one who understood everything going on inside him. Her compassion had made her such an exceptional person, and he’d never found that incredible quality in the women he’d met since leaving Crete.

In the end, he’d made the decision to go after the opportunity that would enrich his life and he vowed, one day, that he would return and help his family in every capacity possible.

That was a long time ago.

On this cool March day, he held in the tears as he embraced his mother one more time. On this trip he noticed she’d aged and hadn’t exhibited her usual energy. That troubled him. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”

“Why don’t you come home to live? You can afford it. We miss you so much.” Her tears tugged at his heart.

His father didn’t weep, but Takis detected a new sorrow in his eyes. Why was it there? Why didn’t his parent speak the words of love and acceptance he longed to hear?

“Do what you have to do.” Those were similar to the words he’d said to Takis before he’d left for New York eleven years ago. “Be safe, my son.”

But his father still hadn’t been the one to ask him to come home or tell him he’d like him to work at the hotel with the family again. Had Takis done irreparable damage to their relationship?

“You too, Baba.” His throat had swollen with emotion. “Stay well.”

He turned to his mother once more. Was the sorrow he’d seen in his father’s eyes over concern for his wife? Was there something wrong with her? With his father? Something no one in the family was telling him?

This visit had troubled him with thoughts he didn’t want to entertain. He hugged everyone and kissed his nieces and nephews. Then he climbed into the taxi in front of the family-owned hotel that needed refurbishing. Heaven knew it needed everything. They needed everything.

His eyes clung to his mother’s once more. Had she been trying to tell him something? He blew her a kiss.

The flight to Athens would be leaving from Heraklion airport in four hours. First he would attend the funeral services for Nassos Rodino at the Greek Orthodox church in the heart of Heraklion. The recently divorced hotel owner, rumored to have a mistress, had suffered a stroke in the prime of his life—a stroke that had preceded his death. This had shocked Takis, who’d met with the man, who had given him so much, on his yacht to talk business when Takis had last come to Crete.

Most important to Takis was that he owed the hotelier a debt that bordered on love. His gratitude to the older man knew no bounds.

In truth he couldn’t think of another successful man who would have gone to such lengths to give Takis the chance to better himself, even to go as far as sponsoring him in the United States.

Once the funeral was over, he’d fly to Athens. From there he’d take another flight to Milan, Italy, where he was part owner, and manager of the five-star Castello Supremo Hotel and Ristorante di Lombardi.

But all the way to the church his mother’s words rang in his ears. Why don’t you come home to live. You can afford it. His mother had never been so outspoken in her thoughts before.

Yes, he could afford it. In the eleven years he’d been away, he’d made millions while his family continued to eke out their existence.

Was she telling him something without coming right out and saying it? Was she ill? Or his father? Death with dignity? Never saying a word? Damn that pride of theirs if it was true!

Neither Kori nor Lukios had said anything, but maybe his siblings had been kept in the dark. Then again maybe nothing was wrong and his mother, who was getting older, was simply letting him know how much they’d missed him.

He missed them too. Of course he’d come back in an instant if they needed him. But to come home for good? Even if his two business partners were in agreement and bought him out—even if he sold his hotel chain in New York, would his father allow him to work alongside him? What if he refused Takis’s help? What would Takis do for the rest of his life? Build a new hotel conglomerate on Crete?

His eyes closed tightly. He could never do that to his father and use the Manolis name. A son honored his father and showed him respect by never taking anything away from him.

Two years ago Takis had built a children’s hospital in his hometown village of Tylissos on Crete in order that his niece Cassia would get the kind of skilled medical help she needed. The hospital gave free medical care with no child turned away.

He’d kept his dealings anonymous, using local people who had no idea Takis had funded everything including the doctors’ salaries. It helped him to know he was doing something for his family, even if they weren’t aware of it.

Long ago Takis had lost hope that one day his father might be proud of him for trying to make something of his life in order to help them. His parent had never been anything but kind to him, but deep in his heart lived the fear that his family had always compared him to their ever faithful Lukios and would never see Takis in the same light.

In his pain he needed to get back to Italy and ask advice from his partners, who were as close to him as brothers.

“Kyrie?” The taxi driver broke in on his tormented thoughts by telling him they’d arrived at the corner of the square.

Takis had been in a daze. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll be back in an hour.” He handed him some bills and got out to join a crowd of people entering the church, where the covered coffin faced east.

Once he found a seat, he listened to the white-robed priest who conducted the service. After leading them in hymns and scriptures, the priest asked God to give Nassos rest and forgive all his sins. As far as Takis was concerned, the man had no sins. Because of him, Takis had been given a precious gift that had changed his life completely. But at what price?

Soon the bereaved, dressed in black, started down the aisle to go to the cemetery. One dark-haired woman in a black veil appeared particularly overcome with sorrow. Nassos’s ex-wife? Takis had never met her. Nassos had kept their few meetings totally private.

Because he’d arrived late, he’d taken a seat on the aisle at the back. While he waited for everyone to pass, his gaze happened to fasten on probably the most gorgeous young dark-blonde woman he’d ever seen in his life.

Her two-piece black suit provided the perfect foil for her stunning classic features only rivaled by violet eyes. Their color reminded him of the Chaste plant belonging to the verbena family that grew all over Crete. They peered out of dark lashes that took his breath. But he could see she was grief stricken. Who was she?

He turned his head to watch her walk out the rear of the church. If he weren’t going to be late to catch his flight, he’d drive to the cemetery and find out her name. Hers was a face and figure he would never forget, not in a lifetime.

CHAPTER TWO

FIVE DAYS AFTER the funeral, Lys left Giorgos, the manager of the Rodino Hotel, in charge. The paparazzi took pictures as she climbed in the limo taking her to the airport for her flight to Athens. It connected to another flight to Milan, Italy. Her destination was the Castello Supremo Hotel and Ristorante di Lombardi.

In the year before her father’s death, she’d heard her father and Nassos talking about a new employee at her father’s hotel named Takis Manolis. Nassos had made it possible for the younger man from Crete to get a work visa and go to college in the United States while working at her father’s hotel in New York. Lys’s understanding was that he was exceptional and showed real promise in the hotel industry.

Their interest had piqued her interest, but she’d never met him since she and her father had lived in their own home in the city. She’d rarely gone to the hotel for any reason.

After her father’s death, and the move to Crete to Nassos and Danae’s villa on Kasos, the name of Takis came up again. Nassos spoke fondly of him and she learned more about him. The Manolis teen had come from Tylissos and had needed help to escape a life that was close to the poverty line.

When Lys asked Nassos why he cared so much, he’d told her the young man had reminded him of himself at that age. Nassos, who’d gotten little help from his ailing grandfather, had to fish from a row boat and sell his catch at the market to support them. Lys’s father, Kristos, also dirt-poor, started fishing with him.

Both men had wanted more out of life and had gone after it. In time they built businesses that grew until Kristos decided to travel to New York and take over a hotel there.

Nassos was able to buy property in Heraklion and build a hotel on Crete. He’d made it into a huge success story. Nassos had seen that same hunger in Takis, who he said was brilliant and had vision in a way that separated him from the masses. Both men wanted Takis to realize his dream. That’s why Nassos had made it possible for Takis to travel to New York and work at the hotel Lys’s father had owned. Their hunch had paid off in a huge way.

Later on, through Nassos, Lys learned more about the enterprising Takis. His chain of hotels and stock market investments had turned him into a billionaire. She found herself fantasizing about him, and loved Nassos for his goodness. He was a saint who’d become the father she’d lost. Imagine making such a thing possible for the younger man, who was a homegrown Cretan like himself!

Though she couldn’t imagine how Takis Manolis would feel when he heard the news that he was the new half owner of the Rodino Hotel, she was excited to be able to carry out Nassos’s final wish. In truth she couldn’t wait to meet this twenty-nine-year-old man she’d heard talked about for so long.

She’d endowed him with her idea of what the perfect Cretan man looked like. It was very silly of her, but she couldn’t help it. Both her father and Nassos had made him out to be someone so unique and fascinating, she’d wouldn’t be human if her imagination hadn’t taken over.

As for her being the other half owner, she didn’t know how she felt about it yet. Everything depended on today’s meeting.

It was midmorning as Lys left her hotel in Milan dressed in a heavy black Ralph Lauren shirt dress she could wear without a coat. After setting out on her mission, she gave the limo driver directions to the castello outside the city. Then she sat back to take in the fabulous scenery of farms and villas lined with the tall narrow cypress trees indigenous to the region.

Mid-March felt like Heraklion, a cool fifty-eight degrees under cloudy skies. The only difference was that Milan wasn’t by the sea. According to Nassos, this refurbished Italian monument built on top of a hill in the thirteen hundreds—originally the home of the first Duc di Lombardi—was a triumph that Takis shared with two business partners. It had become the showplace of Europe.

Lys had come to Italy without letting anyone know where she was going, or why, only that she’d be out of the country for an indefinite period. It was heaven to escape Crete for a little while where few people would recognize her. If anyone knew her reason for coming here, it would make more headlines she didn’t want and would do anything to avoid.

Hopefully the press would leave her alone from now on. Though sorrow weighed her down, she intended to ignore any further publicity and carry on as Nassos had expected her to do.

The driver let her out at the base of steps leading to the front entrance. During her climb, she marveled at the trees and flowers surrounding the building. This was a magnificent edifice, high up where she could see the landscape in the far distance. No wonder the Duc di Lombardi found this the perfect place to rule his kingdom.

Inside the entry she was struck by the palatial grandeur with its sweeping corridor of glass doors and chandeliers. The exquisite furniture and paintings of a former time created a matchless tapestry of beauty in the Italian tradition.

A few hotel guests came out of the dining room area. Others walked down the hallway toward the front desk. A lovely woman at the counter, maybe thirty, smiled at her. “May I help you?” she asked in Italian.

Lys answered in English because she could only speak a few words in Italian. “I’m here to see Mr. Manolis, if that’s possible.”

“Do you have an appointment?” Her switch to excellent English was impressive.

“No. I just flew in to Milan. If he’s not available, I’ll make an appointment and come back because this is vitally important to me.”

“Are you a tour guide?”

“No.”

The woman studied her briefly before she said, “What’s your name?”

“Ms. Theron.”

“If you’ll take a seat, I’ll see if I can locate him.”

Wonderful. He was here somewhere. She’d been prepared to fly to New York to see him if necessary. By coming here first, she’d saved herself a long overseas flight.

This close now to meeting the man her father and Nassos had cared so much about, she felt an attachment to him difficult to explain. Apparently if she’d met this Takis in Heraklion and had started dating him, Nassos would have given his wholehearted approval.

Lys was dying to know what he looked like. As Nassos had explained in his letter to her, he never liked mixing business with his personal life, so she could only guess. Neither he nor Danae had ever mentioned that aspect of him. With a heightened sense of excitement, she turned and sat on one of the beautiful upholstered chairs with the distinctive Duc di Lombardi logo. Her heart pounded hard while she waited to meet Takis.

* * *

Midmorning Takis sat with his partners in the private dining room on the second floor of the castello. This was the first time he’d had a chance to speak to them after returning from Crete. So far he was no closer to knowing what to do about his worry over his parents and he wanted their opinions. Vincenzo had asked that breakfast be brought up from the kitchen, but Takis had lost his appetite and only wanted coffee.

“You don’t have to make any kind of a rash decision right now,” his friend counseled. “Rather than just a weekend visit, why don’t you simply go back to Tylissos for a couple of weeks? We’ll be fine without you. Stay with your family, see what you can do to help out. Surely if there’s something wrong with either of your parents, you’ll pick up on it and go from there.”

As usual, Vincenzo, the present-day Duc di Lombardi, made sense.

Cesare Donati, whose oversight of the restaurant had turned the hotel into the place to dine in all of Europe, eyed him over his cup of coffee. “What would be wrong by going home and asking them outright if there’s a problem they don’t want you to know about? Do it in front of the whole family so if anyone squirms, you’ll see it.”

That was good advice too. Cesare wasn’t one to hold back. He acted on instincts, thus the reason he was the best restaurateur on five continents.

“I’m listening, guys, and am taking both ideas under consideration.” Two weeks with his family would give him enough time to get the truth out of them. While he was there he could also track down the woman he’d seen at the funeral whose image wouldn’t leave his mind.

While he was deep in thought, his phone rang. Takis checked the caller ID. It was the front desk. He clicked on. “Yes, Sofia?” The woman was Swiss-born and spoke six languages.

“Sorry to bother you when I know you’re in a meeting, but a woman I don’t recognize has flown to Milan and come to the castello to see you. She’s not a tour guide and says it’s of vital importance, but she didn’t explain the nature of her business. She had no card. Her last name is something like Tierrun.”

“What’s her nationality?”

“She sounds American to me.” Maybe she’d been sent from his headquarters in New York for a special reason, but Takis found it strange that his assistant hadn’t said anything. “Do you wish to meet with her, or shall I make an appointment?”

Takis had no idea what this was all about, but he might as well take care of it now. “I’ll be right there. Take her back to my office.” He rang off and glanced at his friends. “I’ve got to meet someone downstairs. Thanks for the much needed advice. I’ll talk to you later.”

* * *

Lys followed the concierge down a hall lined with several doors. She opened the one on the right. “Mr. Takis will be with you in a minute. Make yourself comfortable. Would you care for coffee or tea while you wait?”

“Nothing, thank you.”

After the woman left, Lys sat down near the desk. On the top of it were several little framed snapshots of what she assumed were family photos. Some she surmised were of his parents, some were his siblings and small children. Along with those pictures was a small statue of King Minos, the mythological leader of the great Minoan civilization on Crete, who was clothed in mythology.

As she continued to look around the uncluttered room, a cry escaped her lips. Hanging on the wall across from her was a large framed picture of a younger Nassos with a lot of black hair, standing on the deck of his yacht in a sport shirt and trousers. Takis must have taken it with a camera and had sent the photo to be enlarged. There were no other pictures.

With pounding heart she jumped up from the chair and walked over to get a closer look. Nassos’s signature was in the bottom right hand corner. He’d personalized it. Bravo, Takis. He signed everything with a flourish.

Seeing him so alive and vital in the picture brought tears to her eyes. He would be thrilled if he knew his autographed photo hung in the office of his unofficial protégé in the most prominent spot. The fact that this man had honored Nassos this way told her a lot about his character and she knew he was deserving of the gift he was about to receive.

Lys heard a little rap on the open door and whirled around.

She hadn’t known what she’d expected to see. Only her imagination could have provided that. But it wasn’t the tall, hard-muscled male so striking in a rugged way who’d just walked in his office...an olive-complexioned man come to life from ancient Crete though he was dressed in a stone-colored business suit and tie.

“Oh—” she cried softly because the sight of him caused her thoughts to reel.

Those penetrating hazel eyes of his put her in mind of one of those heroic dark-blond warriors depicted in frescos on the walls of temples and museums. She studied his arresting features, remembering one prince who could have been his double. The five o’clock shadow on his firm jaw gave him a sensual appeal she hadn’t been prepared for.

While she continued to stare at him, she realized he’d been examining her the way someone did who couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He gave her a slight nod. “The woman at the desk thought you were American, but didn’t quite get your name.” The man spoke English with a heavy accent she found exciting.

“I’m Lys Theron,” she said in Greek.

A look of astonishment crossed over his face. “Wait,” he said, as if sorting out a puzzle. “Theron... Kristos Theron. He was your father?”

“Yes.”

Clearly her answer shocked him.

“He was a wonderful man. It came as a terrible blow when I heard about the plane crash. He’d been very kind to me. I’m so sorry you lost him.”

“So am I.”

The second she’d spoken, silence enveloped the room’s interior. His eyes seemed to go dark from some unnamed emotion. A hand went to the back of his neck, as if he were questioning what he’d just heard. “I saw you at Nassos’s funeral last weekend,” he murmured in Greek.

His admission shook her to the core. “You were there?”

“That’s right. I wouldn’t have missed it. Aside from my father, Nassos Rodino was the finest man I ever knew. His death came as a great shock to me.”

He’d been at the church! No wonder he’d stared so hard at her, but she hadn’t seen him. Her pain had been too great.

She took a deep breath. “To know you flew to Heraklion to honor him, and that you have his photograph hanging in this office, would have meant the world to him.”

A strange sound came out of him. “You’re a relation of his?”

“I was seventeen when my father died. Nassos was his best friend and became my guardian. He took me back to Crete where I lived with him and his wife.”

He shook his head. “I can’t credit it. You and I never met, yet your father and Nassos are the reason I have a life here.”

“I’ve heard about you for years and have been wanting to meet you. You’re the brilliant son of Nikanor Manolis from Tylissos. Nassos’s belief in you was clearly deserved.”

His chest rose and fell visibly. “His support was nothing short of a miracle,” he whispered.

“A miracle couldn’t work if the seeds of greatness weren’t already there.”

Another unearthly quiet emanated from him, prompting her to speak. “I was sixteen when I first learned about you. Nassos came to visit often and asked my father if he’d give you a job at the hotel in New York. I thought it was so wonderful that they wanted to help you so you could go to college. They really believed in you!”

He moved closer. “Your father’s close friendship with Nassos made it possible for me to work and go to school. He was very good to me.”

“To me too.” She smiled. “It was hard to lose him when I did.”

She felt his compassionate gaze. “I can only imagine your feelings right now. I’m sorry you’ve suffered so many losses.”

“Death comes to us all at some point.” She sucked in her breath, still dazed by his striking looks, in fact by the whole situation. “To be honest, I’ve always wanted to meet the famous Takis Manolis. The last time Nassos spoke of you, he said you were already a living legend before you were thirty.”

His dark brows furrowed as if in utter disbelief over those words, revealing a humility she found admirable.

“Please. Sit down.” While she did his bidding, he paced the floor looking shaken, then he stopped. “Can I get you anything? Have you had breakfast?”

“Thank you, but I ate before I left the hotel in Milan several hours ago. I should have contacted you for an appointment ahead of time, but decided to take my chances and fly here first. I haven’t taken a real trip in a long time. I love getting away from everything for a little while.”

“I don’t blame you. I saw what was written about you in the paper while I was in Crete. The press manages to find a way if they’re looking for a story.” By the tone of disgust in his voice, she imagined he’d had to deal with his share of unwanted invasions. She could relate to his feelings, making it easier to confide in him.

“Nassos’s unexplained, unexpected death wasn’t solved until a week ago when the medical examiner said he’d died from a subarachnoid hemorrhage. Over the last month while everything was up in the air, the press labeled me everything from a murderer who’d poisoned him, to an opportunistic floozy. You could add adulteress, narcissistic liar and evil spawn of Satan in some of the more sordid tabloids. The list goes on and on.”

Their eyes met. “Is that all?” he teased unexpectedly, catching her off guard. His bone-melting charm, not to mention his refreshing humor was so welcome, she felt a great release and laughter bubbled out of her.