Page 65 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

He nodded. This was the one secret he’d kept from her. Because giving voice to his hopes would have shown how faint they really were? Was he, even then, trying to be a macho male, impervious to weakness?

‘What was there to say? I knew I was probably building something out of nothing.’

She leaned close, her breasts against his arm. ‘But it gave you purpose and hope.’

Lex turned to look down into eyes of deepest purple-brown. He’d shared so much with her, all those years ago. But he thought he’d concealed the feeling that a vital part of himself was missing.

He was surprised at how easy it was to accept her understanding. He’d spent so long keeping his emotions to himself.

‘So that’s why you went to Greece.’

He nodded. ‘There was nothing to keep me in Britain.’ He felt her minute flinch and almost regretted his words. But it was true. He’d felt betrayed and alone. His huff of laughter was forced. ‘It turns out I’d learnt a lot of useful grammar but my pronunciation was woeful and my words very stilted and old-fashioned.’

‘But youdidit. You taught yourself. And you found your father. All because you followed your instinct. I’m so happy everything worked out for you, Lex.’

Automatically he nodded. He had a wonderful life. Challenging work. Friends. Family. A beautiful home as well as wealth. Yet...

‘How did you find him? There are millions of people in Athens.’

‘You give me too much credit. I’d never have found him. It was sheer luck. I was working a couple of jobs. I finished each evening doing a shift as a kitchen hand in a restaurant. One night the owner’s father came into the kitchen. He made a fuss about how I looked like his old friend when he was younger. We thought he was exaggerating. But then weeks later he brought his friend to the restaurant and the pair of them were convinced the resemblance was no coincidence.’

Warmth filled him at the memory. It had taken a while to sort out the details but from the first his father had accepted him.

That implicit trust had been rare in Lex’s life. He’d only had it twice before. From his mother’s uncle who recognised Lex’s way with animals, and from Portia.

‘Tell me aboutyourfather.’

She flinched and would have pulled away except he held her arm close to his side.

‘I don’t like talking about him.’

‘Give me the abridged version then.’

‘He’s dead. What else do you want to know?’

Lex stifled the knowledge that he was pushing into territory that was painful for her. He didn’t enjoy talking about his mother who’d been difficult and moody. But surely he deserved to know what happened to the man who’d destroyed their plans.

‘His actions impacted me too, remember.’

Portia slipped her arm from his and turned to face him, her expression hard to read. ‘You know that because of what he did you went to Greece and eventually found your father. He’d have hated knowing he’d done you a good turn, however backhanded.’

Lex nodded. The irony hadn’t escaped him. But his curiosity wasn’t spiteful. It wasn’t for himself he wanted to know but because he had a growing suspicion that locking his daughter up wasn’t the worst Portia’s father had done to her.

Finally Portia sighed. ‘You’re so stubborn. Come on, I’ll tell you while we walk back. It’s time we packed, ready to leave.’

The reminder that their weekend was almost over punctured Lex’s satisfaction. But he nodded and turned.

Her father still had the power to drive a wedge between them. She didn’t take his arm as they walked and his pleasure in the landscape dimmed. Amazing how their good mood had been wrecked by the mere mention of the man.

When she spoke her voice was crisp. ‘I can’t really tell you much. I gather he and Raine stayed together for several years but didn’t marry.’

‘You gather? You’re not sure?’

Portia kept her gaze fixed on the country house hotel before them. ‘I never saw him after that night.’

‘You what?’

Lex slammed to a stop. After a couple steps she turned, eyebrows raised. ‘What? You thought I’d have anything to do with him after what he’d done to me? To us? That I’d meekly sit at home and let him tell me how to live my life?’

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