The Tycoon's Son. Cindy Kirk

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      “Ironically, from tourists.” Theo gave a little laugh. “When we do our tours…when the visitors watch the horses gallop across the steep, rocky slopes of the mountain, they fall in love. And when they learn of the precarious fate of these beautiful animals, they dig into their wallets.”

      The generosity of the Americans, in particular, continued to amaze Theo.

      Trish’s finger traced an imaginary figure eight on the tabletop. “It sounds like fewer tours to Kefalonia could mean less money for your foundation.”

      There was something in her way-too-casual tone that sent red warning flags popping up in Theo’s head. “What are you trying to say?”

      Trish looked straight at him. “By refusing to contract with Liberty, it would seem that you are also cutting off a large source of potential donors to your foundation.”

      The statement hung in the air, bold and raw, for several heartbeats. Theo tightened his grip on the cup. “I’m not contracting with Liberty.”

      Trish leaned back in her seat and expelled a long breath. “If you look at this rationally—”

      “I’ve said all I’m going to say on the matter,” Theo told her, not bothering to hide his irritation. He’d given her his answer. The subject was not up for discussion.

      To his amazement, Trish didn’t back down. She leaned forward and rested both elbows on the table. “Hear me out,” she said, raising a hand when he started to speak. “I really want you to sign that contract. It will be good for me, good for you, and—”

      “I told you—”

      “—and good for your foundation,” she continued without missing a beat. “As a bonus for signing I will donate the following sum of money to your foundation—”

      Theo’s jaw dropped open at the amount she named. It was at least a year’s worth of tourist donations. For a second his mind jumped ahead to what they could do with the money. They could start work on some additional self-filling watering facilities, they could—

      No. He shut down the wishful daydreams playing in his head. Even if he was interested in signing—which he wasn’t—there was something about the offer that didn’t ring true.

      “What do you say?” she asked, her eagerness making her words come out fast. “The way I see it, this deal is a win-win for everyone.”

      She looked so pretty sitting there with the sunlight from the window dancing across her hair and a hopeful gleam in her eyes that Theo was hard-pressed not to give her everything she wanted.

      “This money you would donate,” Theo said, “where would it come from?”

      She paused for a half heartbeat before answering. “From my company.”

      The momentary hesitation confirmed Theo’s suspicions. Still he pressed onward, wanting to hear her admit that his father was behind this offer. “It’s a large sum.”

      “My business is important to me. Keeping clients such as Liberty happy and satisfied is essential.” There was an earnest look on her face and a ring of truth in her words. Still, Theo wasn’t convinced.

      “Stamos gave you the money, didn’t he?” Theo suddenly leaned forward, crowding her, trying not to be distracted by the intoxicatingly sweet scent of her perfume.

      She averted her gaze, her hair hiding her eyes from view. “I told you,” she said, “I will be the one writing the check.”

      He wasn’t fooled. She still hadn’t answered his question. “But the money will come from him.”

      “How many times do I have to tell you.” A hint of desperation crept into Trish’s tone. “I will be—”

      “The money is coming from him.” Equally determined, Theo hammered his point.

      “Do you really care who it comes from?” Trish gazed at him over the top of her glass of ouzo, a splash of red coloring her cheeks.

      Disappointment coursed through Theo’s veins. It was as he’d thought. The redheaded American was in league with the devil. She didn’t care about the horses…or him. All she wanted was to get him to bend to his father’s will. Theo pushed back his chair. “Our business is concluded.”

      “You didn’t give me your answer,” Trish protested.

      “I’d sooner strike a deal with Satan himself than enter into an agreement with Elias Stamos,” Theo said, keeping his tone low, aware of the curious glances directed their way.

      Confusion clouded Trish’s gaze. “But why? I’d say in this instance he’s being more than fair.”

      “I don’t like to be manipulated,” Theo said. “And I don’t like lies.”

      Her cheeks reddened as if she’d been slapped. She lifted her chin and her eyes blazed, but when she spoke her words were carefully measured and conciliatory. “I’m sorry you feel that way. That’s certainly not the intention of the offer.” She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “I want to help you and the wild horses. At least consider the possibility.”

      Theo could see the desperation in her eyes. She obviously had a lot at stake here. But he couldn’t help her, not this time.

      His mind had been made up long ago, when he was a little boy. Back then he’d vowed never to have anything to do with the father who hadn’t wanted him.

      And that was a promise he intended to keep.

      CHAPTER THREE

      TRISH STARED at the three wild ponies on the hillside and breathed in the fresh mountain air. The brilliance of the blue sky wrapped itself around her and the sun warmed her face. She’d scheduled the side trip to Kefalonia so she could better understand why Elias Stamos insisted this excursion be offered to his passengers.

      It made sense now.

      As far as Trish was concerned, the history and beauty of Kefalonia was something everyone should experience. The plight of the horses was something everyone should know, and no one told their story better than Theo Catomeris.

      She turned from the wild ponies and slanted a sideways glance at the handsome Greek. She wasn’t sure which of them had been more surprised when she and her friend, Sally Edwards, had shown up at the dock for the three-thirty tour.

      Right now his attention was focused on a salesman from Cincinnati. But during the boat ride from Corfu to Kefalonia, and even on the trip in the van to Mount Ainos, she’d caught him slanting quick glances at her. Trish could only hope her presence would prompt him to reconsider her offer.

      Mentally crossing her fingers, she turned back to the horses, watching in amazement as one—a spunky roan—negotiated a steep patch of rocky hillside with surprising ease.

      “Incredible,” Trish breathed.

      “I know,” Sally said. “If he didn’t have that bald spot in the back, he’d be perfect.”

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