Loe raamatut: «My Greek Island Fling»
Praise for Nina Harrington
‘I look forward to reading this author’s next release …
and her next … and her next. It truly is a stunning debut,
with characters that will remain in your thoughts
long after you have closed the book.’
—pinkheartsocietyreviews.blogspot.com on
Always the Bridesmaid
‘Rich with emotion,
and pairing two truly special characters,
this beautiful story is simply unforgettable. A keeper.’
—RT Book Reviews on
Hired: Sassy Assistant
‘A well-constructed plot and a scrumptious,
larger-than-life hero combined with generous amounts
of humour and pathos make for an excellent read.’
—RT Book Reviews on
Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds
About the Author
About Nina Harrington
NINA HARRINGTON grew up in rural Northumberland, England, and decided at the age of eleven that she was going to be a librarian—because then she could read all of the books in the public library whenever she wanted! Since then she has been a shop assistant, community pharmacist, technical writer, university lecturer, volcano walker and industrial scientist, before taking a career break to realise her dream of being a fiction writer. When she is not creating stories which make her readers smile, her hobbies are cooking, eating, enjoying good wine—and talking, for which she has had specialist training.
Also by Nina Harrington
When Chocolate is Not Enough
The Boy is Back in Town
Her Moment in the Spotlight
The Last Summer of Being Single
Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds
Hired: Sassy Assistant
Always the Bridesmaid
Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
My Greek Island Fling
Nina Harrington
MILLS & BOON
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PROLOGUE
‘MUM—I’m here,’ Lexi Collazo Sloane whispered as her mother breezed into her room, instantly bringing a splash of purple, bravado and energy to the calm cream and gold colour scheme in the exclusive London hospital.
‘I am so sorry I’m late, darling,’ her mother gushed, shaking the rain from her coat and then planting a firm kiss on Lexi’s cheek. ‘But our director suddenly decided to bring the rehearsal of the ballroom scene forward.’ She shook her head and laughed out loud. ‘Pirate swords and silk skirts. If those dresses survive intact it will be a miracle. And don’t talk to me about the shoes and wigs!’
‘You can do it, Mum.’ Lexi chuckled, folding her pyjamas into her overnight bag. ‘You’re the best wardrobe mistress in the theatre business. No worries. The dress rehearsal tomorrow will be a triumph.’
‘Alexis Sloane, you are the most outrageous fibber. But, thanks. Now. Down to more important things.’ She took a breath, then gently put a hand on Lexi’s shoulder and looked into her eyes. ‘How did it go this morning? And don’t spare me. What did the specialist say? Am I going to be a grandmother one of these fine days?’
Lexi sat back down on the bed and her heart wanted to weep. Time to get this over and done with.
‘Well, there’s some good news, and some less-than-good news. Apparently medical science has advanced a little over the past eighteen years, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.’ She reached out and drew her mother to sit next to her on the bed. ‘There is a small chance that I might be able to have children, but …’ she caught her breath as her mother gasped ‘… it would be a long, tough process—and there’s no guarantee that the treatment would be a success in the end. According to the specialist, I’d only be setting myself up for disappointment.’
She braved a half smile and squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘Sorry, Mum. It looks like you might have to wait a lot longer before I can give you those grandchildren after all.’
Her mother exhaled loudly before hugging her. ‘Now, don’t you worry about that for one more minute. We’ve talked about this before. There are lots of children out there looking for a loving home, and Adam is happy to adopt. You will have your own family one day—I just know it. Okay?’
‘I know, but you had such high hopes that it would be good news.’
‘As far as I am concerned it is good news. In fact, I think we should splash out on a nice restaurant this evening, don’t you? Your dad will insist,’ she added, waggling her eyebrows. ‘It seems the photography business is paying well these days.’
Lexi touched her arm and swallowed down the huge lump of anxiety and apprehension that had made an already miserable day even more stressful. ‘Is he here yet, Mum? I’ve been nodding off all afternoon and now I’m terrified that I might have missed him.’
But her mother looked into her face with a huge grin. ‘Yes,’ she replied, clasping hold of both of Lexi’s hands. ‘Yes, he is here. I left your dad back in the car park. And he is so different. He really does want to make up for lost time. Why else would he pay for this lovely private hospital at the first mention that you needed treatment? He knew how scared you must be after the last time. Everything’s going to be just fine. You wait and see.’
Lexi’s heart started to race. ‘What if he doesn’t even recognise me? I mean, I was only ten the last time he saw me. That was eighteen years ago. He might not even know who I am.’
Her mother patted her cheek, shaking her head. ‘Now, don’t be so silly. Of course he’ll recognise you. He must have albums filled with all of the photos I’ve sent him over the years. Besides, you’re so lovely he’ll spot you in an instant.’
She pressed her cheek against Lexi’s as she wrapped her in a warm hug. ‘Your dad has already told me how very proud he is of everything you’ve achieved in your life. And you can tell him all about your brilliant writing over dinner tonight.’
Then she patted her hair, snatched up her bag and headed into the bathroom. ‘Which means I need to get ready. Back in a moment.’
Lexi smiled and shrugged her shoulders. As if her mother could ever be anything other than gorgeous! She’d aways been so irrepressible, no matter what life had thrown at them. And all she’d ever wanted was a large family around her whom she could shower with love.
Lexi wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. It broke her heart that she wouldn’t be able to give her mother grandchildren and make her happy. Just broke her heart.
Mark Belmont stabbed at the elevator buttons, willing them to respond, then cursed under his breath and took off towards the stairs.
The logical part of his brain knew that it had only been seconds since he’d thanked his mother’s friend for keeping vigil in that terrible hospital room until he arrived. The steady weeping hadn’t helped him to keep calm or controlled, but he was on his own now, and it was his turn to make some sense of the last few hours.
The urgent call from the hospital. The terrible flight from Mumbai, which had felt never-ending, then the taxi ride from the airport, which had seemed to hit every red light in London on the way in.
The truth was still hard to take in. His mother, his beautiful, talented and self-confident mother, had taken herself to a London plastic surgeon without telling her family. According to her actress friend she had made some feeble joke about not alerting the media to the fact that Crystal Leighton was having a tummy tuck. And she was right. The press were only too ready to track down any dirty secrets about the famously wholesome English movie star. But to him? That was his mother the tabloids were stalking.
Mark took the stairs two at a time as his sense of failure threatened to overwhelm him.
He couldn’t believe it. They’d been together for the whole of the Christmas and New Year holiday and she’d seemed more excited and positive than she’d been in years. Her autobiography was coming together, her charity work was showing results and his clever sister had provided her with a second grandchild.
Why? Why had she done this without telling anyone? Why had she come here alone to have an operation that had gone so horribly wrong? She’d known the risks, and she’d always laughed off any suggestion of plastic surgery in the past. And yet she’d gone ahead and done it anyway.
His steps slowed and he sniffed and took a long breath, steadying himself before going back into that hospital room where his lovely, precious mother was lying comatose, hooked up to monitors which beeped out every second just how much damage the embolism had done.
A stroke. Doing what they could. Specialists called in. Still no clear prognosis.
Mark pulled open the door. At least she’d had the good sense to choose a discreet hospital, well-known for protecting its patients from prying eyes. There would be no paparazzi taking pictures of his bruised and battered mother for the world to ogle at.
No. He would have to endure that image on his own.
Lexi had just turned back to her packing when a young nurse popped her head around the door. ‘More visitors, Miss Sloane.’ She smiled. ‘Your dad and your cousin have just arrived to take you home. They’ll be right with you.’ And with a quick wave she was gone.
‘Thank you,’ Lexi replied in the direction of the door, and swallowed down a deep feeling of uncertainty and nervousness. Why did her father want to see her now, after all these long years? She pushed herself off the bed and slowly walked towards the door.
Then Lexi paused and frowned. Her cousin? She didn’t have a cousin—as far as she knew. Perhaps that was another one of the surprises her dad had lined up for her? She’d promised her mother that she would give him a chance today, and that was what she was going to do, no matter how painful it might be.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and strolled out into the corridor to greet the father who had abandoned her and her mother just when they’d needed him most. If he expected her to leap into his arms then he was sorely mistaken, but she could be polite and thank him for her mother’s sake, at least.
If only her heart would stop thumping so hard that she could hardly think. She’d loved him so much when she was little—her wonderful father had been the centre of her world.
She braced herself and looked around. But all was calm, restful and quiet. Of course it would take a few moments for him to get through the elaborate security checks at the main desk—designed to protect the rich and famous—and then take the elevator to the first floor.
She was just about to turn back when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye through the half-open door of one of the patient’s rooms identical to the one she had just left, but tucked away at the end of the long corridor.
And then she saw him.
Unmistakable. Unforgettable. Her father. Mario Collazo. Slim and handsome, greying around the temples, but still gorgeous. He was crouched down just inside the room, under the window, and he had a small but powerful digital camera in his hand.
Something was horribly wrong here. Without thinking, she crept towards the door to get a better look.
In an instant she took in the scene. A woman lay on the hospital bed, her long dark hair spread out against the bleached white sheets which matched the colour of her face. Her eyes were closed and she was connected to tubes and monitors all around the bed.
The horrific truth of what she was looking at struck Lexi hard and left her reeling with shock, so that she had to lean against the wall to stay upright.
The nurses wouldn’t have been able to see her father from the main reception area, where a younger man she had never seen before was showing them some paperwork, diverting their attention away from what was happening in this exclusive clinic under their very noses.
When she found the strength to speak her words came out in a horrified shudder. ‘Oh, no. No, Dad. Please, no.’
And he heard her. In an instant he whirled around from where he was crouching and glared at her in disbelief. Just for a moment she saw a flash of shock, regret and contrition drift across his face, before his mouth twisted into a silent grin.
And her blood ran cold.
Mario Collazo had made a name for himself as a celebrity photographer. It wasn’t hard to work out what he was doing with a camera inside the hospital room of some celebrity that he had stalked here.
If that was true … If that was true then her dad hadn’t come to see her at all. He had lied to her warm-hearted mother and tricked his way into the hospital. None of the security officers would have stopped him if he was the relative of a patient.
Ice formed in the pit of her stomach as the hard reality of what she had just seen hit home. Her dad never had any intention of visiting her. The only reason he was here was to invade this poor sick woman’s privacy. Lexi had no idea who she was, or why she was in this hospital, but that was irrelevant. She deserved to be left alone, no matter who she was.
Lexi felt bitter tears burning in the corners of her eyes. She had to get away. Escape. Collect her mother and get out of this place as fast as her legs could take her.
But in an instant that option was wiped away.
She had waited too long.
Because striding towards her was a tall, dark-haired man in a superbly tailored dark grey business suit. Not a doctor. This man was power and authority all wrapped up inside the handsome package of a broad-shouldered, slim-hipped man of about thirty. His head was low, his steps powerful and strident to match the dark, twisted brow. And he was heading straight for the room where her father was hiding.
He didn’t even notice she was there, and she could only watch in horror as he flung open the door to the woman’s room.
Then everything seemed to happen at once.
‘What the hell are you doing in here?’ he demanded, his voice furious with disbelief as he stormed into the room, pushed aside the visitor’s chair and grabbed her father by the shoulder of his jacket.
Her breath froze inside her lungs, and Lexi pressed her back farther against the wall.
‘Who are you, and what do you want?’ His voice was shrill and full of menace, but loud enough to alert the receptionist at the desk to look up and lift the telephone. ‘And how did you get a camera in here? I’ll take that, you parasite.’
The camera came flying out of the door and crashed against the wall next to Lexi with such force that it smashed the lens. To Lexi’s horror she saw the young man at reception reach into his pocket and pull out a digital camera and start to take photographs of what was happening inside the room from the safety of the corridor. Suddenly the stillness of the hushed hospital was filled with shouting, yelling, crashing furniture and medical equipment, flower vases smashing to the floor, nurses running and other patients coming out of their rooms to see what the noise was all about.
Shock and fear overwhelmed her. Her legs simply refused to move.
She was frozen. Immobile. Because, as if it was a horrible train wreck, she simply could not take her eyes away from that hospital room.
The door had swung half closed, but she could see her father struggling with the man in the suit. They were fighting, pushing and shoving each other against the glass window of the room. And her heart broke for the poor woman who was lying so still on the bed, oblivious to the fight that had erupted around her.
The door swung open and her father staggered backwards into the corridor, his left arm raised to protect himself. Lexi covered her mouth with both hands as the handsome stranger stretched back his right arm and punched her father in the face, knocking him sprawling onto the floor just in front of her feet.
The stranger lunged again, pulling her father off the ground by his jacket and starting to shake him so vigorously that Lexi felt sick. She screamed out loud. ‘Stop it—please! That’s my dad!’
Her father was hurled back to the ground with a thud. She dropped to the floor on her knees and put her hand on her father’s heaving chest as he pushed himself up on one elbow and rubbed his jaw. Only then did she look up into the face of the attacker. And what she saw there made Lexi recoil in horror and shock.
The handsome face was twisted into a mask of rage and anger so distorted that it was barely recognisable.
‘Your dad? So that’s how it is. He used his own daughter as an accomplice. Nice.’
He stepped back, shaking his head and trying to straighten his jacket as security guards swarmed around him and nurses ran into the patient’s room.
‘Congratulations,’ he added, ‘you got what you came for.’
The penetrating gaze emanating from eyes of the darkest blue like a stormy sea bored deep into her own, as though they were trying to penetrate her skull. ‘I hope you’re satisfied,’ he added, twisting his lips into a snarl of disgust and contempt before looking away, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her and her father for a second longer.
‘I didn’t know!’ she called. ‘I didn’t know anything about this. Please believe me.’
He almost turned, but instead shrugged his shoulders and returned to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and leaving her kneeling on the cold hospital floor, nauseous with shock, fear and wretched humiliation.
CHAPTER ONE
Five Months Later
GOATS!
Lexi Sloane pushed her designer sandal hard onto the brake pedal as a pair of long-eared brown and white nanny goats tottered out in front of the car as she drove around a bend, and bleated at her in disgust.
‘Hey, give me a chance, girls. I’m new around here,’ Lexi sang out into the silent countryside, snorting inelegantly as the goats totally ignored her and sauntered off into the long grass under the olive trees on the other side of the road.
‘Which girls? Lexi? I thought you were working.’ Her mother laughed into her earpiece in such a clear voice that it was hard to imagine that she was calling from the basement of an historic London theatre hundreds of miles away. ‘Don’t tell me. You’ve changed your mind and taken off with your pals on holiday to Spain after all.’
‘Oh, please—don’t remind me! Nope. The agency made me an offer I couldn’t refuse and I am definitely on Paxos,’ Lexi replied into the headset, stretching her head forward like a turtle to scan the sunlit road for more stray wildlife. ‘You know how it goes. I am the official go-to girl when it comes to ghostwriting biographies. And it’s always at the last minute. I will say one thing—’ she grinned ‘—I stepped off the hydrofoil from Corfu an hour ago and those goats are the first local inhabitants I’ve met since I left the main road. Oh—and did I mention it is seriously hot?’
‘A Greek Island in June … I am so jealous.’ Her mother sighed. ‘It’s such a pity you have to work, but we’ll make up for it when you get back. That reminds me. I was talking to a charming young actor just this morning who would love to meet you, and I sort of invited him to my engagement party. I’m sure you’d like him.’
‘Oh, no. Mum, I adore you, and I know you mean well, but no more actors. Not after the disaster with Adam. In fact, please don’t set me up with any more boyfriends at all. I’ll be fine,’ Lexi insisted, trying desperately to keep the anxiety out of her voice and change the subject. ‘You have far more important things to sort out without worrying about finding me a boyfriend. Have you found a venue for this famous party yet? I’m expecting something remarkable.’
‘Oh, don’t talk to me about that. Patrick seems to acquire more relatives by the day. I thought that four daughters and three grandchildren were more than enough, but he wants the whole tribe there. He’s so terribly old-fashioned about these things. Do you know, he won’t even sleep with me until his grandmother’s ring is on my finger?’
‘Mum!’
‘I know, but what’s a girl to do? He’s gorgeous, and I’m crazy about him. Anyhow, must go—I’m being dragged out to look at gothic chapels. Don’t worry—I’ll tell you all about it when you get back.’
‘Gothic? You wouldn’t dare. Anyway, I look terrible in black,’ Lexi replied, peering through the windscreen and slowing the car at the entrance to the first driveway she’d seen so far. ‘Ah—wait. I think I’ve just arrived at my client’s house. Finally! Wish me luck?’
‘I will if you need it, but you don’t. Now, call me the minute you get back to London. I want to know everything about this mystery client you’re working with. And I mean everything. Don’t worry about me. You just try and enjoy yourself. Ciao, gorgeous.’
And with that her mother hung up, leaving Lexi alone on the silent country lane.
She glanced up at the letters carved into a stone nameplate, then double-checked the address she’d noted down over the phone while waiting for her luggage to come off the carousel at Corfu airport, some five hours earlier.
Yup. This was it. Villa Ares. Wasn’t Ares the Greek god of war? Curious name for a house, but she was here and in one piece—which was quite a miracle.
Checking quickly for more goats or other animal residents, Lexi shifted the hire car into gear and drove slowly up a rough gravel driveway which curved around a long, white two-storey house before coming to a shuddering halt.
She lifted off her telephone headset and sat still for a few minutes to take in the stunning villa. She inhaled a long breath of hot, dry air through the open window, fragrant with the scent of orange blossom from the trees at the end of the drive. The only sound was birdsong from the olive groves and the gentle ripple of water from the swimming pool.
No sign of life. And certainly no sign of the mystery celebrity who was supposed to have sent a minion to meet her at the hydrofoil terminal.
‘Welcome to Paxos,’ she whispered with a chuckle, and stepped out of the car into the heat and the crunch of rough stone beneath her feet.
The words had no sooner slipped from Lexi’s lips than the slim stiletto heel of her favourite Italian sandal scraped down a large smooth cobblestone, her ankle twisted over, and she stumbled against the hot metal of her tiny hire car.
Which left a neat trail of several weeks’ worth of grime and bright green tree pollen all down the side of the Italian silk and linen jacket.
Oh, no! Grinding her teeth, she inspected the damage to her clothing and the scrape down her shoe and swore to herself with all of the fluency and extensive vocabulary of a girl raised in show business. The dark red leather had been completely scraped into a tight, crumpled ball down the heel of her shoe.
This project had better be a real emergency!
Even if it was so totally intriguing.
In the five years that she’d worked as a contract ghost writer this was the first time that she had been sent out on a top-secret assignment on her own—so secret that the publisher who’d signed the contract had insisted that all details about the identity of the mystery author must remain under wraps until the ghost writer arrived at the celebrity’s private home. The talent agency was well-known for being extremely discreet, but this was taking it to the next level.
She didn’t even know the name of her client! Or anything about the book she would be working on.
A tingle of excitement and anticipation whispered across Lexi’s shoulders as she peered up at the imposing stone villa. She loved a mystery almost as much as she loved meeting new people and travelling to new places around the world.
And her mind had been racing ever since she’d taken the call in Hong Kong.
Who was this mysterious celebrity, and why the great secrecy?
Several pop stars just out of rehab came to mind, and there was always the movie star who had just set up his own charity organisation to fight child trafficking—any publisher would be keen to have that story.
Only one thing was certain: this was going to be someone special.
Lexi brushed most of the pollen from the rough silk-tweed fabric of her jacket, then straightened her back and walked as tall as she could across the loose stone drive, the excitement of walking into the unknown making her buzz with anticipation.
A warm breeze caressed her neck and she dipped her sunglasses lower onto her nose, waggling her shoulders in delight.
This had to be the second-best job in the world. She was actually getting paid to meet interesting people in lovely parts of the world and learn about their lives. And the best thing of all? Not one of those celebrities knew that she used every second of the time she spent travelling and waiting around in cold studios to work on the stories she really wanted to write.
Her children’s books.
A few more paying jobs like this one and she would finally be able to take some time out and write properly. Just the thought of that gave her the shivers. To make that dream happen she was prepared to put up with anyone.
Magic.
Swinging her red-leather tote—which had been colour-matched to her now-ruined sandals—she shrugged, lifted her chin and strode out lopsided and wincing as the sharp stones of the drive pressed into the thin soles of her shoes.
Hey-ho. They were only sandals. She had seen too much of the flip side of life to let a little thing like a damaged sandal annoy her. Meeting a client when she didn’t even know their name was a drop in the ocean compared to the train wreck of her personal history.
It was time to find out whose life she was going to share for the next week, and why they wanted to keep their project such a secret. She could hardly wait.
Mark Belmont rolled over onto his back on the padded sun lounger and blinked several times, before yawning widely and stretching his arms high above his head. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but the hot, sunny weather, combined with the latest bout of insomnia, had taken its toll.
He swung his legs over the lounger, sat upright, and ground the palms of his hands into his eyes for a few seconds to try and relieve the nagging headache—without success. The bright sunlight and the calm, beautiful garden seemed to be laughing at the turmoil roiling inside his head.
Coming to Paxos had seemed like a good idea. In the past the family villa had always been a serene, welcoming refuge for the family, away from the prying eyes of the media; a place where he could relax and be himself. But even this tranquil location didn’t hold enough magic to conjure up the amount of calm he needed to see his work through.
After four days of working through his mother’s biography his emotions were a riot of awe at her beauty and talent combined with sadness and regret for all the opportunities he had missed when she was alive. All the things he could have said or done which might have made a difference to how she’d felt and the decision she’d made. Perhaps even convinced her not to have surgery at all.
But it was a futile quest. Way too late and way too little.
Worse, he had always relished the solitude of the villa, but now it seemed to echo with the ghosts of happier days and he felt so very alone. Isolated. His sister Cassie had been right.
Five months wasn’t long enough to put aside his grief. Nowhere near.
He sniffed, and was about to stand when a thin black cat appeared at his side and meowed loudly for lunch as she rubbed herself along the lounger.
‘Okay, Emmy. Sorry I’m late.’
He shuffled across the patio towards the stone barbecue in his bare feet, watching out for sharp pebbles. Reaching into a tall metal bin, he pulled out a box of cat biscuits and quickly loaded up a plastic plate, narrowly avoiding the claws and teeth of the feral cat as it attacked the food. Within seconds her two white kittens appeared and cautiously approached the plate, their pink ears and tongue a total contrast to their mum. Dad Oscar must be out in the olive groves.
‘It’s okay, guys. It’s all yours.’ Mark chuckled as he filled the water bowl from the tap and set it down. ‘Bon appétit.’
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed out loud as he strolled back towards the villa. This was not getting the work done.
He had stolen ten days away from Belmont Investments to try and make some sense of the suitcase full of manuscript pages, press clippings, personal notes, appointment diaries and letters he had scooped up from his late mother’s desk. So far he had failed miserably.
It certainly hadn’t been his idea to finish his mother’s biography. Far from it. He knew it would only bring more publicity knocking on his door. But his father was adamant. He was prepared to do press interviews and make his life public property if it helped put the ghosts to rest and celebrate her life in the way he wanted.
But of course that had been before the relapse.
And since when could Mark refuse his father anything? He’d put his own dreams and personal aspirations to one side for the family before, and would willingly do it again in a heartbeat.
But where to start? How to write the biography of the woman known worldwide as Crystal Leighton, beautiful international movie star, but known to him as the mother who’d taken him shopping for shoes and turned up at every school sports day?
Tasuta katkend on lõppenud.
