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.
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
