The Fallen Greek Bride\At the Greek Boss's Bidding (23 page)

“Nurse Hatchet, I haven’t walked because I haven’t wanted to walk. It’s as simple as that.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

My God, he was arrogant—and overly confident. “And you want to walk now?”

“Yes.”

Weakly she leaned back in her chair and stared at him. Kristian was changing before her eyes. Metamorphosing.

Pano and the housekeeper appeared with their lunch, but Kristian paid them no heed. “You were the one who told me I need to move forward, Cratchett, and you’re absolutely right. It’s time I moved forward and got back on my feet.”

She watched the myriad of small plates set before them.
Mezedhes
—lots of delicious dips, ranging from eggplant purée to cucumber, yoghurt and garlic, cheese. There were also plates of steaming
keftedhes, dolmadhes, tsiros.
And it all smelled amazing. Elizabeth might not love Greek coffee, but she loved Greek food. Only right now it would be impossible to eat a bite of anything.

“And when do you intend to start your...program?” she asked.

“Today. Immediately after lunch.” He sat still while Pano moved the plates around for him, and quietly explained where the plates were and what each dish was.

When Pano and the housekeeper had left, Kristian continued. “I want to be walking soon. I need to be walking this time next week if I hope to travel to Athens in a month’s time.”

“Walking next
week?
” she choked, unable to take it all in. She couldn’t believe the change in him. Couldn’t believe the swift turn of events, either. From waking him, to the pills being dumped into the fountain, to the revelation about Calista—everything was different.

Everything, she repeated silently, but especially him. And just looking at him from across the table she saw he seemed so much bigger. Taller. More imposing.

“A week,” he insisted.

“Kristian, it’s good to have goals. But please be realistic. It’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to walk unaided in the next couple of weeks, but with hard work you might manage short distances with your walker—”

“If I go to Athens there can be no walker.”

“But—”

“It’s a matter of culture and respect, Ms. Hatchet. You’re not Greek; you don’t understand—”

“I
do
understand. That’s why I’m here. But give yourself time to meet your goals. Two or three months is far more realistic.”

With a rough push of his wheelchair, he rolled back a short distance from the table. “Enough!”

Slowly he placed one foot on the ground, and then the other, and then, leaning forward, put his hands on the table. For a moment it seemed as though nothing was happening, and then, little by little, he began to push up, utilizing his triceps, biceps and shoulders to give himself leverage.

His face paled and perspiration beaded his brow. Thick jet-black hair fell forward as, jaw set, he continued to press up until he was fully upright.

As soon as he was straight he threw his head back in an almost primal act of conquest.
“There.”
The word rumbled from him.

He’d proved her wrong.

It had cost him to stand unassisted, too. She could see from his pallor and the lines etched at his mouth that he was hurting, but he didn’t utter a word of complaint.

She couldn’t help looking at him with fresh respect. What he had done had not been easy. It had taken him long, grueling minutes to concentrate, to work muscles that hadn’t been utilized in far too long. But he had succeeded. He’d stood by himself.

And he’d done it as an act of protest and defiance.

He’d done it as something to prove.

“That’s a start,” she said crisply, hiding her awe. He wasn’t just any man. He was a force to be reckoned with. “It’s impressive. But you know it’s just going to get harder from here.”

Kristian shifted his weight, steadied himself, and removed one hand from the table so that he already stood taller.

Silent emotion flickered across his beautiful scarred face. “Good,” he said. “I’m ready.”

Reaching back for his wheelchair, he nearly stumbled, and Elizabeth jumped to her feet even as Pano rushed forward from the shadows.

Kristian angrily waved both off.
“Ohi!”
he snapped, strain evident in the deep lines shaping his mouth. “No.”

“Kyrios,”
Pano pleaded, pained to see Kristian struggle so.

But Kristian rattled off a rebuke in furious Greek. “I can do it,” he insisted, after taking a breath. “I
must
do it.”

Pano reluctantly dropped back, and Elizabeth slowly sat down again, torn between admiration and exasperation. While she admired the fact that Kristian would not allow anyone to help him be reseated, she also knew that if he went at his entire therapy like this he’d soon be exhausted, frustrated, and possibly injured worse.

He needed to build his strength gradually, with a systematic and scientific approach.

But Kristian had a different plan—which he outlined after lunch.

Standing—walking—was merely an issue of mind over matter, he said, and her job wasn’t to provide obstacles, tell him no, or even offer advice. Her job was to be there when he wanted something, and that was it.

“I’m a handmaid?” she asked, trying to hide her indignation. After four years earning a nursing degree, and
then another two years earning a Masters in Business Administration? “You could hire anyone to come and play handmaid. I’m a little over-qualified and rather expensive—”

“I know,” he said grimly. “Your agency charged an exorbitant amount for my care—little good did it do me.”

“You chose not to improve.”

“Your agency’s methods were useless.”

“I protest.”

“You may protest all you like, but it doesn’t change the facts. Under your agency’s care, not only did I fail to recover, but I was harassed as well as blackmailed. The bottom line, Kyria Hatchet, is that not only did you milk the system—and me—for hundreds and thousands of euros, but you also dared to show up here, uninvited, unwanted, and force yourself on me.”

Sick at heart, she rose. “I’ll leave, then. Let’s just forget this—pretend it never happened—”

“What about the doctors, Nurse? What about those specialists who insisted you come here or I go to their facility in Athens? Was that true, or another of your lies?”

“Lies?”

“I know why you’re here—”

“To get you better!”

“You have exactly ten seconds to give me the full name and contact number of the person now responsible for paying my medical bills or I shall begin dismantling your company within the hour. All it will take is one phone call to my office in Athens and your life as you know it will be forever changed.”

“Kristian—”

“Nine seconds.”

“Kris—”

“Eight.”

“I promised—”

“Seven.”

“A deal is—”

“Six.”

Livid tears scalded her eyes. “It’s because she cares. It’s because she loves you—”

“Four.”

“She wants you back. Home. Close to her.”

“Two.”

Elizabeth balled her hands into fists.
“Please.”

“One.”

“Cosima.” She pressed one fist to her chest, to slow the panicked beating of her heart. “Cosima hired me. She’s desperate. She just wants you home.”

CHAPTER FIVE

C
OSIMA
?

Kristian’s jaw hardened and his voice turned flinty. How could Cosima possibly pay for his care? She might be Andreas’s former fiancée and Athens’s most popular socialite, but she had more financial problems than anyone he knew.

“Cosima hired you?” he repeated, thinking maybe he’d heard wrong. “She was the one that contacted you in London?”

“Yes. But I promised her—
promised
—I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“She said you’d be very upset if you knew, she said you were so proud—” Elizabeth broke off, the threat of tears evident in her voice. “She said she had to do something to show you how much she believed in you.”

Cosima believed in him?

Kristian silently, mockingly, repeated Elizabeth’s words. Or maybe it was that Cosima felt indebted to him. Maybe she felt as guilt-ridden as he did. Because, after all, she lived and Andreas had died, and it was Kristian who’d made the decision. It was Kristian who’d played God that day.

No wonder he had nightmares. No wonder he had nightmares during the day.

He couldn’t accept the decision he’d made. Nor could he accept that it was a decision that couldn’t be changed.

Kristian, wealthy and powerful beyond measure, couldn’t buy or secure the one thing he wanted most: his brother’s life.

But Elizabeth knew nothing of Kristian’s loathing, and anger, and pressed on. “Now that you know,” she continued, “the contract isn’t valid. I can’t remain—”

“Of course you can,” he interrupted shortly. “She doesn’t have to know that I know. There’s no point in wrecking her little plan.”

His words were greeted by silence, and for a moment he thought maybe Elizabeth had left, going God knew where, but then he heard the faintest shuffle, and an even softer sigh.

“She just wants what is best for you,” Elizabeth said wearily. “Please don’t be angry with her. She seems like such a kind person.”

It was in that moment that Kristian learned something very important about Elizabeth Hatchet.

Elizabeth Hatchet might have honest intentions, but she was a lousy judge of character.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Elizabeth was aware that Cosima and Calista had gone to school together. To ask her if she knew that both women had shared a flat for more than a year, and had gone into modeling together, too.

He could tell her that Calista and Cosima had been the best of friends until their lives had gone in very different directions.

Cosima had met Andreas Koumantaros and become girlfriend and then fiancée to one of Greece’s most wealthy men.

Calista, unable to find a rich enough boyfriend, or enough modeling jobs to pay her rent, had turned to exotic dancing and questionable modeling gigs.

The two seemed to have had nothing more in common after a couple years. Cosima had traveled the world as the pampered bride-to-be, and Calista had struggled to make ends meet.

And then tragedy had struck and evened the score.

Andreas had died in the avalanche, Cosima had survived but lost her lifestyle, and Calista, who had still been struggling along, had thought she’d found a sugar-daddy of her own.

Albeit a handicapped one.

The corner of his mouth curved crookedly, the tilt of his lips hiding the depth of his anger as well as his derision. Calista hadn’t been the first to imagine he’d be an easy conquest. A dozen women from all over Europe had flocked to his side during his hospital stay. They’d brought flowers, gifts, seductive promises.
I love you. I’ll be here for you. I’ll never leave you.

It would have been one thing if any of them had genuinely cared for him. Instead they’d all been opportunists, thinking a life with an invalid wouldn’t be so bad if the invalid was a Greek tycoon.

Again Kristian felt the whip of anger. Did women think that just because he couldn’t see he’d lost his mind?

That his inability to travel unaided across the room meant he’d enjoy the company of a shallow, self-absorbed, materialistic woman? He hadn’t enjoyed shallow and self-absorbed women before. Why would he now?

“You’ve met Cosima, then,” he said flatly.

“We’ve only spoken on the phone, but her concern—and she is concerned—touched me,” Elizabeth added anxiously, trying to fill the silence. “She obviously has a good heart, and it wouldn’t be fair to punish her for trying to help you.”

Kristian ran his hand over his jaw. “No, you’re right. And you said, she seems most anxious to see me on my feet.”

“Yes. Yes—and she’s just so worried about you. She was in tears on the phone. I think she’s afraid you’re shutting her out—”

“Really?”
This did intrigue him. Was Cosima possibly imagining some kind of future for the two of them? The idea was as grotesque as it was laughable.

“She said you’ve become too reclusive here.”

“This is my home.”

“But she’s concerned you’re overly depressed and far too despondent.”

“Were those her actual words?” he asked, struggling to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I have it in my notes, if you want to see—”

“No. I believe you.” His brows flattened, his curiosity colored by disbelief. Cosima wasn’t sentimental. She wasn’t particularly emotional or sensitive, either. So why would she be so anxious to have him return to Athens? “And so,” he added, wanting to hear more about Cosima’s concern, “you were sent here to rescue me.”

“Not rescue, just motivate you. Get you on your feet.”

“And look!” he said grandly, gesturing with his hands. “Today I stood. Tomorrow I climb Mount Everest.”

“Not Everest,” Elizabeth corrected, sounding genuinely bemused. “Just walk in time for your wedding.”

Wedding?

Wedding?

Kristian had heard it all now. He didn’t know whether to roar with amusement or anguish. His wedding. To Cosima, his late brother’s lover, he presumed. My God, this was like an ancient Greek comedy—a bold work conceived of by Aristophanes. One full of bawdy mirth but founded on tragedy.

And as he sat there, trying to take it all in, Cosima and Calista’s scheming reminded him of the two Greek sisters: Penia, goddess of poverty, and Amakhania, goddess of helplessness. Goddesses known for tormenting with their evil and greed.

But now that he knew, he wouldn’t be tormented any
longer.

No, he’d write a little Greek play of his own. And if all went well his good Nurse Cratchett could even help him by playing a leading role.

“Let’s not tell her I know,” Kristian said. “Let’s work hard, and we’ll surprise her with my progress.”

“So where do we start?” Elizabeth asked. “What do we do first?”

He nearly smiled at her enthusiasm. She sounded so pleased with him already. “I’ve already hired a physical therapist from Sparta,” he answered, making it clear that this was not a joint decision, but his and his alone. “The therapist arrives tomorrow.”

“And until then?”

“I’ll probably relax, nap. Swim.”

“Swim?” she asked. “You’re swimming?”

Her surprise made his lip curl. She really thought he was in dreadful shape, didn’t she? “I have been for the past two weeks.”

“Ever since your last nurse left?” she said quietly.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

“Maybe you could show me the pool?” she asked.

For a moment he almost felt sorry for her. She was trying so hard to do what she thought was the right thing, but her idea of right wasn’t necessarily what he wanted or needed. “Of course. If you’ll come with me.”

Together they traveled across the stone courtyard with its trellis-covered patio, where they’d just enjoyed lunch, with Kristian pushing his own wheelchair and Elizabeth walking next to him.

They headed toward the fountain and then passed it, moving from the stone patio to the garden, with its gravel path.

“The gardens are beautiful,” Elizabeth said, walking slowly enough for Kristian to push his chair at a comfortable pace.

His tires sank into the gravel, and he wrestled a moment with his chair until he found traction again and pushed faster, to keep from sinking back into the crushed stones. “You’d do better with a stone path here, wouldn’t you?” she asked, glancing down at his arms, impressed by his strength.

Warm color darkened his cheekbones. “It was suggested months ago that I change it, but I knew I wouldn’t be in a wheelchair forever so I left it.”

“So you planned on getting out of your wheelchair?”

His head lifted, and he shot her a look as though he could see, his brow furrowing, lines deepening between his eyes. He resented her question, and his resentment brought home yet again just who he was, and what he’d accomplished in his lifetime.

Watching him struggle through the gravel, it crossed her mind that maybe he hadn’t remained in the wheelchair because he was lazy, but because without sight he felt exposed. Maybe for him the wheelchair wasn’t transportation so much as a suit of armor, a form of protection.

“Are we almost to the hedge?” he asked, pausing a moment to try and get his bearings.

“Yes, it’s just in front of us.”

“The pool, then, is to the left.”

Elizabeth turned toward her left and was momentarily dazzled by the sun’s reflection off brilliant blue water. The long lap pool sparkled in its emerald-green setting, making it appear even more jewel-like than it already was.

“It’s a new pool?” she guessed, from the young landscaping and the gorgeous artisan tilework.

“I wish I could say it was my only extravagance, but I’ve been renovating the monastery for nearly a decade now. It’s been a labor of love.”

They’d reached a low stone wall that bordered the pool, and Elizabeth moved forward to open the pretty gate. “But why Taygetos? Why a ruined monastery? You don’t have family from here, do you?”

“No, but I love the mountains—this is where I feel at home,” he said, lifting a hand to his face as if to block the sun. “My mother was French, raised in a small town at the base of the Alps. I’ve grown up hiking, skiing, rock-
climbing. These are the things my father taught us to do, things my mother enjoyed, and it just feels right living here.”

Elizabeth saw how he kept trying to shield his eyes with his hand. “Is the sun bothering you?”

“I usually wear bandages, or dark glasses.”

“You’ve that much light sensitivity?”

“It’s painful,” he admitted.

She didn’t want him in pain, but the tenderness and sensitivity gave her hope that maybe, one day, he might get at least a little of his vision back. “Shall I call Pano to get your glasses?”

“It’s not necessary. We won’t be here long.”

“But it’s lovely out,” she said wistfully, gazing around the pool area and admiring the tiny purplish campanula flowers that were growing up and over the stone walls. The tiny violet-hued blossoms were such a pretty contrast to the rugged rock. “Let me get them. That way you can relax a little, be more comfortable.”

“No, just find me a little shade—or perhaps position me away from the sun.”

“There’s some shade on the other side of the pool, near the rock wall.” She hesitated. “Shall I push you?”

“I can do it myself.”

But somehow in the struggle, as Elizabeth pushed forward and Kristian grappled for control, the front castors of his chair ran off the stone edge and over the side, and once the front casters went forward, the rest of the chair followed.

He hit the pool with a big splash.

It all happened in slow motion.

Just before he hit the water Elizabeth could see herself grabbing at his chair, hanging tight to the handles and trying to pull him back, but she was unable to get enough leverage to stop the momentum. In the end she let go, knowing she couldn’t stop him and afraid she’d fall on him and hurt him worse.

Heart pounding, Elizabeth dropped to her knees, horrified that her patient and his wheelchair had just tumbled in.

How could she have let this happen? How could she have been so reckless?

Elizabeth was close to jumping in when Kristian surfaced. His chair, though, was another matter. While Kristian was swimming toward the side of the pool, his chair was slowly, steadily, sinking to the bottom.

“Kristian—I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized repeatedly as she knelt on the pool deck. She’d never felt less professional in her entire life. An accident like this was pure carelessness. He knew it, and so did she.

“I cut the corner too close. I should have been paying closer attention. I’m so sorry.”

He swam toward her.

Leaning forward, she extended her hand as far as it would go. “You’re almost at the wall. My hand’s right in front of it. You’ve almost got it,” she encouraged as he reached for her.

His fingers curled around hers. Relief surged through her. He was fine. “I’ve got you,” she said.

“Are you sure?” he asked, hand tightening on hers. “Or do I have you?”

And, with a hard tug, he pulled her off her knees and into the pool.

Elizabeth landed hard on her stomach, splashing water wildly.

He’d pulled her in. Deliberately. She couldn’t believe it. So much for poor, helpless Kristian Koumantaros.

He was far from helpless. And he’d fooled her three times now.

Spluttering to the surface, she looked around for Kristian and spotted him leaning casually against the wall.

“That was mean,” she said, swimming toward him, her wet clothes hampering her movements.

He laughed softly and ran a hand through his hair, pushing the inky black strands back from his face. “I thought you’d find it refreshing.”

She squeezed water from her own hair. “I didn’t want you to fall in. I’d never want that to happen.”

“Your concern for my well-being is most touching. You know, Cratchett, I was worried you might be like my other nurses, but I have to tell you, you’re worse.”

She swallowed hard. She deserved that. “I’m sorry,” she said, knowing a responsible nurse would never have permitted such a thing to happen. Indeed, if any of her nurses had allowed a patient in their care to fall into a pool she’d have fired the nurse on the spot. “It’s been a while since I actually did any in-home care. As you know, I’m the head administrator for the company now.”