lit.
How did she feel about being half owner with a stranger, even if she knew a lot about him from Nassos and her father?
His thoughts centered on what she’d told him about the way the press had labeled her in the cruelest of ways. With her kind of unforgettable looks, she was an easy target. Was Nassos’s divorce the result of his taking on Kristos’s lovely teenage daughter to raise?
What business is it of yours to care, Manolis?
Unfortunately it was his business until he could fly to Crete and clear up this whole mess with the attorney of record.
Adrenaline surged through his veins. He wished to hell none of this had happened. He still couldn’t believe Nassos was gone. Worse, he didn’t want to know anything about her. Takis wished he’d never laid eyes on her. He didn’t want this kind of a complication in his life. Loving a woman made you vulnerable.
A violent epithet flew from his lips. In his rage he tossed the deed across the room. It hit Cesare in the chest as he walked inside Takis’s office.
With great calm his friend picked it up and put it on the desk. He shot Takis a questioning glance. “I take it this had something to do with the drop-dead-gorgeous woman I saw leaving the hotel a minute ago. Where on earth did she come from?”
Takis had trouble getting his emotions under control. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yes I do. You’ve been with several women over the years, but I’ve never seen you turned inside out by one before.”
“It’s not just the woman. It’s everything!” His voice shook. “I feel like my world has been blown to smithereens and I don’t know where I am anymore.”
Takis should never have left his parents’ home. He should have stayed on Crete and worked alongside his brother. He’d been so certain he’d had all the answers to help his family. But in the end he’d accepted the help of a wealthy man.
The thought of the deeded gift sickened him. That kind of gift might be given to a son, but Takis hadn’t been Nassos’s son. He was the son of Nikanor, who after all these years still didn’t want his money. Neither did his brother. Worse, one of his parents was probably ill and Takis didn’t have a clue because he’d been living out of the country for years. He was the ingrate of all time.
“What’s the point of anything, Cesare?”
Worry lines darkened the features of his Italian friend. “Hold on, Takis. Come with me. We’re going for a ride. My car is parked in the rear lot of the castello.”
“You don’t want to be with me.”
“Well, I refuse to leave you here alone. It wouldn’t do for Sofia to find you in this condition.” Cesare was right about that. He didn’t want his assistant privy to his personal life. “Whatever trouble you’re in, we’re going to talk about it. Let’s go.”
Takis grabbed the papers and stuffed them inside his suit jacket. They walked swiftly through the corridors past some of the guests to the outside. Cesare started up his sports car. He followed the road around from the back of the castello and they drove down the hill to the little village of Sopri. Before long he parked in front of a sports bar on the outskirts that didn’t look crowded this time of day.
They went inside and found a quiet spot in a corner. Cesare ordered appetizers and their favorite Peroni, a pale lager from the brewery that had been founded in Lombardi. Once they’d been served rolls along with a hot plate of grigliata mista di carne, he eyed Takis.
“You didn’t eat breakfast, which might explain the state you were in. You need lunch, amico, and you’ve got me for an audience. Now start talking and don’t stop.”
Cesare knew Takis’s weakness for their grilled sausage, lamb and steak mix. Combined with the lager, it did taste good and he could feel his strength returning.
He pulled the deed out of his pocket and pushed it toward Cesare. “As you know, I attended Nassos Rodino’s funeral while I was in Crete. Would you believe in his will he gave half the Hotel Rodino in Heraklion to me as a gift? The other half was given to that woman you saw. She was the courier who delivered it.”
His friend studied it. “Who is she?”
“Lys Theron, the daughter of Kristos Theron, the hotel owner in New York who gave me my first job after I reached the States. You remember me talking about him. When he died, his best friend, Nassos, Rodino became her guardian and brought her back to Crete to raise.”
A low whistle came out of Cesare. But Takis didn’t want to talk about the beautiful woman who’d robbed him of breath the moment he’d laid eyes on her. She was another problem altogether.
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