The Mediterranean Millionaire's Mistress. Maggie Cox

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      Leonidas Rosakis lived up to the leonine connotations of his name. There was no doubt about that. An inch over six feet tall, he was still a formidable-looking man, even though he had recently been cut down by illness. He was the proud owner of an enviable head of abundant silver hair, and had a presence that could easily impinge authority and awe on the very air around him. Yet at the same time he was not so much lion as pussycat with his two young grandchildren, the offspring of Lysander’s sister Evadne, and could be as tender as he liked when he chose.

      Right now, as Lysander approached the huge oak desk that practically took up one complete wall of the stately salon, his father threw him a glance that was anything but tender. Old resentments deeply held surfaced, and he had to swallow hard to clear the tension already building inside his throat.

      ‘What are you doing here, Father? I only saw you in Athens a few days ago.’

      ‘Such a cold greeting from my only son!’ Leonidas intoned dramatically in his deep belljar of a voice. ‘What have I done to deserve such disdain?’

      Releasing an impatient sigh, Lysander tunnelled his fingers restlessly through his hair, instinctively knowing that he had a royal battle on his hands when it came to controlling his temper around his father.

      ‘I do not demonstrate disdain so much as irritation that you should show up here, when you know only too well that I needed to get away from Athens and be by myself for a while…without any interference from the family!’

      ‘You call fatherly concern interference? Shame on you, Lysander! You should know me better than that.’

      ‘I know you only too well, Father…. That is why I do not entirely trust your motives for being here. What is it you want of me? Are you unwell again? Do you want me to speak with your doctors?’

      ‘First you break my heart with your caustic admission of distrust, then you enquire about my health!’ Shaking his great leonine head, Leonidas sighed deeply, as if enduring a terrible wound. He walked round his desk so that he stood a scant foot away from his handsome, if somewhat suspicious-looking, son.

      ‘Actually, I have some good news for you. Some very good news that I hope will put a more—shall we say amenable expression on that scowling face of yours!’

      Immediately alert, Lysander swept his blue eyes over his father’s now smiling visage with a sudden wave of presentiment flooding through his insides. ‘Good news’ was subjective when it came to Rosakis family dealings…especially where Leonidas, the undoubted patriarch, was concerned. It was only natural, going on past experience, that Lysander should view it with suspicion.

      ‘What is this good news you have to tell me, then? Tell me quickly, so that I can be about my business and return to my vacation.’

      The old man’s smile wavered just a fraction on his indomitable face. Leonidas gave the distinct impression that he was choosing the words he was about to use particularly carefully—picking them like prize cherries out of a tree. He and his son did not always see eye to eye, but at that moment Leonidas was praying hard that his imminent announcement would fall on far more receptive ears than, unfortunately, he suspected they might.

      ‘I saw an old friend I hadn’t seen for years yesterday…’He paused, calculating the impression his words were making so far on Lysander, but his son’s expression remained infuriatingly blank and unreadable. ‘Takis Koumanidis. We went to school together. Remember—I told you about him?’

      Lysander responded with a very brief, almost imperceptible flash of acknowledgement in his guarded blue eyes. ‘Last year he took over…’ He mentioned the well-known name of one of the most illustrious shipping lines—a name that Lysander realised immediately his father would love the opportunity to merge with at the very least. He instantly felt the tension across his back and shoulders grip harder—like a band of iron almost bending him in two. What was the old trickster up to now?

      ‘That’s right. Now, do you remember he had a daughter? Well, Electra is now twenty-two and, having met her at dinner last night with Takis, I can report to you that she is a girl of exceptional beauty and intellect. She has been educated at the best schools in Paris and Rome and has exquisite taste in almost everything. Takis was telling me how she longs to settle down and have a family, but sadly as yet she has not met the right man. I could not help but think that you would be perfect for her, Lysander. It has been over two years since your wife died…long enough for you to start thinking about marrying again. I would like you to come back to Athens on Saturday and meet her. When I told her all about you she was much interested. “Intrigued” was the word I believe she used…’

      Clenching his jaw to try and contain the slow-burning rage that was gathering momentum inside him like an electrical storm about to wreak havoc, Lysander stared at his father with the bitterness of profound anger and dismay rising like bile inside his throat. Releasing a violent expletive out loud, he strode impatiently to the opposite end of the luxurious salon and back again in a bid to control his rapidly escalating temper.

      His suspicions had been right. If only for once in his life where his father was concerned Lysander could have been proved wrong. If only Leonidas had just once demonstrated even the remotest understanding of what his only son had gone through, then the rift between them might have started to mend. But, as it was, Leonidas seemed to dismiss the hurtful events of Lysander’s recent past with astonishing ease.

      There had been no acknowledgement of the devastating emotional onslaught and grief he had endured. He had married, for his father’s sake, a woman whose alluring looks and falsely loving demeanour had deceived him as to the true nature of her character, who had cruelly betrayed him not once, but twice. And then, just when they had been trying to rescue the jagged pieces from the inevitable wreckage of their declining relationship and Marianna had become pregnant, both she and their expected son had lost their lives.

      If his father had expressed sympathy for all that, had ever apologised or even acknowledged his own part in making the disastrous marriage, then Lysander could have forgiven him almost anything. But СКАЧАТЬ