Diana Hamilton

Kyriakis's Innocent Mistress


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on your amusing description of your need for strictness with your clients, I must tell you that my nurse—your sister—is also a formidable woman,’ he told Lisa. ‘When I was first diagnosed and taken in for treatment I insisted on a total news blackout. I am not the powerful business force I once was, but I still have assets—the remainder of a once dominant chain of luxury hotels. If the shareholders got wind of my possible demise the value could drop like a stone.

      ‘Bonnie was apprised of the situation when she took over my remedial care, and I tell you, although I employ a security staff, she made them look like amateurs! She was like a lioness defending her cub.’ He lifted his bony shoulders in a dismissive shrug. ‘I have lived with press interest for most of my life, but it has increased to intolerable proportions since my son set out to ruin me. She sent them flying—literally!’ He chuckled, his black eyes dancing. ‘She found one clinging to a tree that overhangs the perimeter wall on the far side of the estate. She knocked him off his perch with a handy stout stick!’

      Bonnie blushed at the reminder. She’d felt dreadful afterwards, and had sent Spiro, one of the security men, out to discover if the snooper had been hurt. Thankfully there’d been no sign of the man or his camera.

      ‘It’s not something I’m proud of,’ she told the grinning Lisa, and laid down her fork, her healthy appetite dwindling.

      It disappeared altogether when her patient said, ‘Bonnie saved my life. I truly believe that. Oh, the doctors did their part, I don’t deny that, but mentally I had given up. Until Bonnie arrived and chivvied me out of it—taught me how to laugh, really laugh, for perhaps the first time in my life, to take things less seriously.’ His eyes clouded. ‘To take a long hard look at my life, recognise my mistakes and vow to do better. I know her agency will move her on to look after some other ailing creature when I get the final all-clear—’

      ‘Which you have,’ Bonnie put in, wanting to stop all this embarrassing stuff.

      Andreas ignored her, explaining to Lisa, ‘I don’t want to lose her. Selfish I may be, but she has been so good for me.’ His quirky grin was self-mocking. ‘I even went so far as to ask her to marry me, but showing great wisdom she declined—much to an old man’s disappointment!’ He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. ‘Now I must leave you both for my afternoon rest—as my good nurse insists.’

      There was a heavy silence until the door closed behind Andreas, and then Lisa exploded, ‘What was all that about?’ She raised one arched brow. ‘Did he really pop the question?’

      ‘Come on.’ Bonnie rose from the table and brushed a stray crumb from the front of the white lawn sleeveless blouse she’d teamed with an apricotcoloured cotton skirt. ‘We’ll find somewhere to talk.’

      It was the hottest part of the day, and usually she spent her off-duty hour in the pool, but today that pleasure would have to be deferred. She was intent on unburdening herself.

      For the past week she’d been itching to do just that, but there’d been no one to confide in. Now, like a gift from above, Lisa had arrived. She couldn’t choose a better confidante than her sister—her best friend.

      She led the way to one of the immense salons, elaborately furnished in the high baroque style. She privately thought it was more like a self-conscious museum than a comfy home. But at least the air-conditioning kept the interior of the villa pleasantly cool.

      ‘Grief!’ Lisa’s eyebrows arched up to her hairline. ‘Who did the Disney decor?’

      ‘The Sugar Plum Fairy?’ Bonnie grinned, plonking down on a stiffly upholstered two-seater settee and patting the space beside her.

      A week ago, during her early-evening perambulation of the extensive grounds with her patient, Andreas had suggested they sit awhile in one of the strategically placed vine-covered arbours.

      Concerned that the old man who had made such excellent progress was feeling unwell, she had been knocked speechless when he’d come out with, ‘Will you be my wife, Bonnie? I do not ask this lightly. You have brought optimism back into my life, given me hope where before there was only bleak emptiness. When I was at my weakest you gave me strength. I find I don’t want to be without your life-enhancing company, your warmth and strength. I have been lonely for too long.’

      Bonnie had gulped. The pleading darkness of the old man’s eyes had made her feel terrible. She knew that patients often got—well, crushes, for want of a better word, on their nurses, and they just as soon got over them. But Andreas was, as he’d said, so lonely. He had no friends as far as she could tell, and no family. No one to visit with bunches of grapes, no one to phone for progress reports or even send get well cards. No one. Nothing.

      Too flummoxed to think of anything sensible to say, Bonnie had felt her insides shrinking until her stomach felt like a particularly tough walnut.

      ‘It would be a marriage in name only,’ Andreas assured her. ‘I would make no sexual demands upon you. You would have the protection of my name—and my name still means something, even though my second son is crushing my various businesses into the ground. I have a personal fortune in a Swiss bank account—entirely separate from my business affairs. Upon our marriage it will be yours, to give you security for life. In return all I would ask of you would be your constant company and your promise to intercede with my son on my behalf.’

      ‘I didn’t know you had any sons!’ Bonnie blurted, seizing on the outrage she felt on his behalf at his offspring’s obvious uncaring neglect, in order to put off the moment when she would have to turn his marriage proposal down flat. And hadn’t he said something about this second son running his business into the ground? Coming from a close-knit, loving family herself, she couldn’t think of anything more chillingly vile!

      ‘I need to be frank with you.’ He took her hands. Her first instinct was to withdraw them, but the beginnings of pity took over as he confessed, ‘My near brush with death has made me take stock of my life. I have too many regrets. My first marriage was arranged. We didn’t love each other. At the time love wasn’t important, or so I thought. There was no room in my busy life for pointless emotion. I saw emotion as a weakness. Building up my business empire was all that mattered. She—Alexandrina—died shortly after giving birth to my firstborn son, Theo.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I honestly think she died to get away from me—and that’s a heavy weight on my conscience.’

      He paused, as if remembering something dark that had been buried for too long and then, his voice strengthening, continued, ‘I remarried within a year. A man in his prime has certain needs, and taking a mistress entails a certain expenditure of time and effort—time that could be more profitably spent on business concerns.’

      ‘And taking a wife doesn’t mean spending time and effort?’ asked Bonnie, appalled.

      Andreas sighed deeply. ‘I am telling you this to showyou the man Iwas then. The type of man whose first unloved and unconsidered wife died to escape him, and whose second wife eventually ran off with another man. Whose firstborn son left home as soon as he hit eighteen because—as he said—I drove him too hard, expected too much, used criticism as our only mode of conversation. I never saw him again. He left my home, refused to join the business as I had planned since his birth, so I washed my hands of him. He died of a heroin overdose in Paris five years later.’

      His hands tightened on hers. ‘I am not proud of what I was. I have been a failure as a husband, as a father. As a human being. I see all this now, and I cannot tell you how deeply I regret it all. Regret all that I was, all that I was not. But most of all I regret that I have not seen my second son since he was fourteen years old—and that he has made himselfmy enemy.’

      He took a deep breath. Warm darkness was closing in, the great scarlet ball of the sun sinking low on the horizon. ‘That is why I would ask you, were you to agree to be my wife, to stand by my side and give me courage, to intercede with my remaining son on my behalf. I want to get to know him, make amends if I can. I dream of turning his enmity into friendship—or, if that cannot be managed, a sense of kinship. I don’t want to leave this life