Rebecca Winters - The Greek's Tiny Miracle

“Nikos?”

His eyes flew open. “Jeno?”

The steward looked at him with compassion. “Are you feeling ill? Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head. He’d come to a dead end. The woman he loved and desired was permanently beyond his reach now.

“We’re getting ready to descend.”

“Thank you.”

He fastened his seat belt. Jeno was right about one thing: Nikos did feel ill. The meeting with the vice admiral was like the first handful of dirt thrown on top of the coffin. He saw the life he’d once known vanish into the void, leaving him to travel through a tunnel of blackness that had no end....

July 26

Stephanie was going to be a mother.

She ran a hand over her stomach, which had grown fuller, making it harder to fasten the top two buttons of her jeans. It still seemed unbelievable that she was carrying Dev’s child. When she’d missed her period last month it hadn’t alarmed her, because she’d always been irregular. In college she’d gone six months without a period.

But over the last three weeks she’d felt weak and nauseated. In her depressed state she’d lost her appetite and thought she had a flu bug. But it didn’t go away and then she started noticing other changes to her body. It all added up to one thing, and the home pregnancy test yesterday had turned out positive, shocking the daylights out of her.

The trip to Dr. Sanders today had confirmed that she was three months along with Dev’s baby. Incredible. Her OB had ordered pills for her nausea, plus iron and prenatal vitamins to build her up.

If she caught up to Dev, would he want to know he was going to be a father?

Deep down, she’d been waiting for him to contact her. He knew she worked for Crystal River Water Tours. It would have been easy enough for him to call and leave a message. But that hadn’t happened. He hadn’t planned on ever seeing or talking to her again.

Yet she felt certain the man she’d fallen in love with would have wanted to hear the truth about his own baby. But it seemed that man didn’t exist. If she were able to find him, would he still tell her he wanted nothing to do with her or the baby, once he found out?

For the next twelve hours she agonized about what to do, vacillating over the decision she needed to make. By morning, one thing overshadowed every consideration. She knew her child would want to know its father. It would be the most important thing in her baby’s life.

Stephanie knew all about that, having always longed to meet her birth father and know his name. It took two to make a child, and it was up to her to inform Dev if it was at all possible. What he did with the information was up to him.

But her hand hesitated before she reached for the phone to begin her inquiries at the resort. The two people she knew there might wonder why she needed information. They’d probably deduce she was some obsessed girlfriend.

How humiliating would it be to confide the truth about the baby to them? She just couldn’t. But maybe it would work if she explained she’d been worrying about him ever since he’d disappeared, the very night they were going to have dinner together. She felt certain he’d been ill, thus the reason for his swift departure. Did they know any way she might get in touch with him, just to see if he was all right?

With her hand shaking, she called the number on the brochure she’d kept, and waited.

“Dive shop. This is Angelo.”

She gripped the cell phone tighter. “Hello, Angelo. I’m glad it’s you. I tried to reach you earlier, but you were out. This is Stephanie Walsh. You probably don’t remember me. I was there almost three months ago.”

“Stephanie? I always remember the pretty girls, you especially.”

Her heart beat too fast. “You just made my day.”

He laughed. “You had a good time on vacation?”

“Wonderful, thanks to you.” The best of my whole life until the box of gardenias was brought to the table.

“That’s good. How can I help you?”

“I’m trying to reach Dev Harris, the scuba diver from New York I partnered with that first week. Do you have a phone number or an email for him? Anything at all to help me? He left so suddenly, I’ve worried over the last few months that he might have been taken ill. I have pictures I’d like to send him via email.”

“Let me check. Don’t hang up.”

“No. I won’t.”

She paced the bedroom of her condo while she waited. There were a lot of Devlin, Devlon or Devlan Harrises listed in New York City, but none she could reach was the man she was trying to find.

When she’d first gotten back to Florida, anger had driven her to phone New York information, but there was no such name listed for him. She’d spent several days phoning exporting companies where he might be working, but she’d turned up nothing.

After exhausting that avenue, she’d called various airlines that had landed planes on the island April 18, but got no help. The resort could tell her only what she already knew, that he was from New York. That was when she’d given up. But her pregnancy had changed everything.

“Stephanie? I’m back. Sorry, but there is no address or phone number. Perhaps one of the shops you visited would know something.”

She bit her lip in disappointment. “We didn’t do any shopping, but he did have some flowers delivered to me. Would they have come from the resort?”

“No, no. The Plant Shop in town. Just a minute and I’ll give you the number.” She held her breath while she waited. “Yes. Here it is.”

Stephanie wrote it down. “You live up to your name, Angelo. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck finding him.”

After hanging up, she placed the call. Stephanie had once told him she loved gardenias. Tears stung her eyes. She had to admit his parting gift had been done with a certain style, while at the same time destroying her dreams. If there were no results, then the baby she was carrying would never know its father.

“The Plant Shop.”

“Hello. My name is Stephanie Walsh. I’m calling from Florida. On April 27 a box of gardenias from your shop was delivered to me at the Palm Resort. I never did get to thank the gentleman who sent it to me. He left before I realized he’d gone. His name was Dev Harris. Could you give me an address or a phone number, please? He’s from New York City. That’s all I know.”

It was a long shot, but she was desperate.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t give out that information.”

“Can you at least tell me what time he left the order?”

“Just a moment and I’ll check.” After a minute, the salesclerk returned. “It was phoned in at 5:00 p.m.”

“Thank you for your help.”

After she hung up, one more idea flitted through her mind. She called the resort again and asked if she could speak to Delia, the darling girl who’d been the maid for their rooms. Could Delia call Stephanie back collect, please? It was very important.

The front desk said they’d give her the message. Within a half hour, Stephanie’s phone rang and it was the resort calling. Delia was on the other end.

“Hello, Stephanie.”

“Oh, Delia. Thanks so much for calling me back.”

“Of course. How is the handsome Dev?”

I wish I knew. “Actually, I’m not sure. I’m really worried about him. That’s why I’ve phoned you. I’m thinking he must have left the island early because he was ill and didn’t want me to know or worry. I thought I would have heard from him by now, and need your help to find him if it’s at all possible.”

“Tell you what. My boyfriend works at the airport servicing the planes before takeoff. I’ll ask him to find out what planes took off on April 27 after five in the evening. Perhaps he’ll learn something that can help you.”

“I’ll make this worth your while, Delia.”

“I would like to do this for you. I never saw two people more in love.”

Tears scalded Stephanie’s eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I just hope he isn’t fatally ill.”

“I don’t blame you for being upset.”

Whether Delia believed her excuse for calling or not, Stephanie couldn’t worry about that now.

Two hours later her phone rang again. “Stephanie? He couldn’t get you names, but there were three flights out that evening, if this helps. One was a nonstop flight to Los Angeles, California, another nonstop to Vancouver, British Columbia. The last was a private jet owned by the Vassalos Corporation, headed for Athens, Greece.”

She blinked.

None of the planes had headed due north to New York. Her spirits plunged. If he’d been called back to his work on an emergency, surely he would have taken a direct flight to New York. There were dozens of them leaving the Caribbean for that destination.

“You’re an angel for being willing to help me, Delia. Expect a thank-you in the mail for you and your boyfriend from me.”

Stephanie rang off, shaking with the knowledge that Dev had lied to her without compunction. Who are you, mystery man? Had he pulled a fictitious name out of a hat on the spur of the moment? Was Dev a nickname?

One thing she was convinced of at this point: he was no New Yorker. And he’d been in an enormous hurry when he’d left Providenciales. Thousands of businessmen traveled by private jet. Certainly if he’d needed to leave before they’d even had dinner, it would make sense he had his own special mode of transportation waiting. No long lines...

Before she did anything else, she went to her computer in the den of the condo she’d inherited from her mother, to make a global search of the name Vassalos in Greece. One source came up more prominent than all the rest and drew her attention. Vassalos Maritime Shipping, Egnoussa, Greece.

Shipping...

After more searches she discovered the Oinousses, a group of small islands in the eastern Aegean Sea near Turkey. Egnoussa, the largest inhabited one, was fourteen kilometers long. One of Greece’s most important naval academies was based there, due to the rich seafaring history of the islands. A smaller island, Oinoussa, was also inhabited.

Reading further, she learned Egnoussa was home to some of the richest shipping magnate families in the world. There were only four hundred or so inhabitants, with some fabulous mansions. A naval commercial academy and museum were located on one part of the island.

She replayed the memories of Dev in her mind. His urbane sophistication and knowledge set him apart from other men she’d known. He’d possessed a natural authority and spoke impeccable English. But when she thought about it, she realized he hadn’t sounded like a New Yorker.

Had he come from a Greek island? If so, he would naturally be at home in the water.

He’d told her he worked for an international exporting company in New York. Did that company have an outlet in Greece? Did Dev work for it? Exporting could translate to mean shipping, couldn’t it? In her mind it wasn’t a far stretch to see where he might have come up with his lie.

What if Egnoussa was his home? Was he from that Vassalos family, with the kind of wealth that had opened every door for him? Maybe this was a stab in the dark, but the more she thought about him, the more the shoe seemed to fit. The cliché about looking like a Greek god fit him like a second skin.

She could phone the shipping company and ask questions. But since he obviously didn’t want to be found, if he was there or got wind that she was trying to reach him, she might never get answers. Scrolling down farther, she found more information.

After a short flight from Athens to the island of Chios, an hour’s boat ride takes you to Egnoussa Island. There’s one hotel with only twelve rooms, one taxi. You can walk Egnoussa in a day.