Anne McAllister - The Playboy And The Nanny

“I teach by love and care and example,” she said with an edge to her voice.

He nodded. “Just so.” He steepled his hands on his desk and regarded her complacently over the top of them. “I should like to you love and care for Nikos.”

A frisson of primal fear skittered down her spine. Perhaps it was because he’d used the words love and Nikos in such close proximity—even though Mari knew he didn’t mean that kind of love!

She paced to the far end of his office and turned, with her hands on her hips. “And you think that will work?” she demanded finally, when he just looked at her expectantly.

“My dear Miss Lewis, you yourself assured me it would work.”

“But—”

But there was nothing to say to that because, in fact, she had. And it had worked—with all her other charges. But this was different!

“He’s not a child!” she argued.

“No, he is not. But I lost him when he was a child. I think I have to start there to get him back.”

It was the first real honest remark she thought he’d made. Mari took a seat in the chair she’d been avoiding. “Why, Mr. Costanides?” She leaned her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her palm so she could look at him as she asked quietly, “Why now?”

For a moment Stavros Costanides stared off out the window toward the beach and the ocean beyond. It was a beautiful view, but Mari didn’t think he was seeing it. What was he seeing? Nikos? As a child? And himself? A young father? His expression grew almost pained for a moment. Then he seemed to recollect himself. His jaw tightened and he looked back at her as he admitted almost grudgingly, “I need him now.”

“You didn’t before?” she pressed.

He gave an irritable wave of his hand. “We don’t talk about ‘before.’ Before is over. It is now that matters. Now and the future.”

Mari didn’t believe that. He’d said himself that what was happening now was a result of what had gone before. But obviously he wasn’t willing to talk about it.

Stavros picked up a silver pen and tapped it on the desk, watching the movement it made for a long moment before he continued his explanation. “I want to slow down. I work too hard. Too many years too hard. I am getting old. Sixty, you know? I don’t have so many years left. Two years ago I had a heart attack. Not bad, you understand. But it scares me a little. I will not live forever. I want to spend time with my wife. My children.” He raised his gaze to meet hers. “You understand?”

“Children?” Mari said archly.

Stavros’s mouth pressed into a thin line for a second, as he absorbed the hit, then he nodded to acknowledge it “My little children. They need a father.”

“And Nikos doesn’t?”

“Nikos is an adult, for all that he acts like an iresponsible idiot!”

And I wonder why that is? Mari said silently. But she just waited for Stavros to continue.

“I keep my company, though,” he said. “I built it!” These last three words were spoken with the most emotion she’d heard from him. “From nothing I built it. Almost thirty-five years I have invested in it. It is my life, my legacy! I won’t see it wasted.” His eyes met hers again, dark and fierce. “I don’t let Nikos waste it!”

“You think he would?” Mari didn’t know anything about that possibility.

Stavros made a spitting sound. “Bah. Why wouldn’t he?” He picked up a folder from his desk and shoved it at her. “See for yourself!”

Mari took the folder automatically. It was at least an inch thick, filled, she could see, with copies of newspaper clippings. Headlines like “Greek Playboy Turns Heiress’s Head” and “Nick the Hunk Bares All” blared out at her. She shut the folder with a snap.

“You see? He knows nothing! He cares nothing! He respects nothing!” Stavros’s dark complexion was a deep shade of red. He aimed the pen at her. “That is what I want you to fix.”

Helping children become emotionally healthy was something she was pretty good at. Keeping an adult man from running amok in the scandal sheets and driving a family business into the ground was not exactly in the same league.

“I’m not sure...” she began hesitantly.

“I am sure.” The pen leveled on her again. “You will teach him to respect.”

It was on the tip of Mari’s tongue to tell him that respect was earned, not taught, but she didn’t think he wanted to hear it.

Stavros tapped the pen irritably on the desktop. “He is smart. He is clever. He could do well if he wanted to. But he has to understand the business, the work I do. He won’t. He behaves like a fool. Then he wants to take over just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “‘I can do it,’ he says. ‘Trust me,’ he says. ‘You want me to take over? Step down, I will take over,’ he says. Never! I never started at the top!”

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