The Divided Child (17 page)

           
Demetra
Redfield rose from the table.
 
"Miss Stewart, you will excuse me?"
 

           
"Of
course.
 
Thank you for the
wonderful lunch."

           
She
inclined her head and started toward the door.

           
"Oh,
by the way," I said, calling after her, "I thought I'd spend the
afternoon enjoying your lovely beach.
 
You don't mind if Michael joins me for a swim, do you?"

           
She
turned around to face me, and her mouth twisted into a faint smile.
 
"No, I do not mind."

           
"I'm
glad."

           
She
swept an imaginary speck of dust off her dress.
 
"However, I fear the boy will be unable to make a swim
with you this afternoon, because he comes with me to town."

           
"Perhaps
when you get back --"

           
"I
do not think we will return before evening.
 
I have many errands and several friends to visit."

           
"Perhaps
tomorrow?" I persevered.

           
She
regarded me with those dark, unreadable eyes.
 
"We shall see, Miss Stewart.
 
We shall see."

Chapter Eight

           
After
lunch, I walked down to the beach and vented my frustrations in a long swim.
 
When I returned to my room, the bed was
turned down and the drapes drawn to leave everything cool and dark.
 
It was an invitation to siesta I was
inclined to accept; I was tired, and I had nothing better to do now that
Michael was off limits for the rest of the day.
 
I wondered whether Helen had any other duties besides
watching him and, if not, how I was going to get another chance to speak with
him alone.

           
Stripping
off my wet swimsuit, I took a brief shower and then slipped between the cool
sheets.
 
I felt the tension seep
out of my body.
 
The pillow, soft
and round, felt cooler even than the sheets, and I pressed my face into it,
savoring the scent of the clean linen.
 
Before I knew it, I was asleep.

           
I
must have slept deeply, because for a moment when I woke I had no idea where I
was.
 
Then I realized I wasn’t
alone.
 
"Well, Sleeping
Beauty,” a voice said coldly, “it's about time."

           
I
started to sit up, then remembered I was wearing nothing but the sheet.
 
"Has anyone ever told you that you
have an irritating habit of popping up where you're least expected?"

           
Geoffrey
Redfield's green eyes glinted.
 
"Funny thing, that.
 
One could say the same of you."
 
He was sitting in the chair Michael had sat in earlier, but
his expression was as hostile as Michael's had been welcoming.
 
"Now would you care to tell me
what you're doing here?"

           
"Why
should I?
 
I don't need to explain
my actions to you."

           
"True,
I'd say they were reasonably self-explanatory.
 
I may be a fool, but even I have my limits."

           
I
frowned.
 
"How did you find
out I was here?
 
I meant to call
you later."

           
"Did
you?
 
Excuse me if I find that hard
to credit."

           
"Why?"

           
"Can
you really ask?” he demanded.
 
“Two
days ago you said there was no connection between you and Skouras or his
sister, yet today I find you settled in cozily in the room adjoining his."

           
"There's
a simple enough explanation --"

           
"Oh,
I'm certain you've quite a convincing one prepared," he interrupted,
"though I wonder why you bother.
 
Mavros refuses to investigate, and my opinion doesn’t count for
much."

           
“I’m
here because of Michael.”

           
"Of
course!” he exclaimed mockingly.
 
“Skouras, out of the kindness of his heart, decided the boy needed a
companion, and you volunteered for the post.
 
Of course, if I were you, I’d be careful where you plan your
next excursion, lest dear old Spiro decide to have another go at killing two
birds with one stone.”

           
That
was it.
 
I’d had it.
 
Grabbing the sheet and clutching it
tightly around me, I scrambled up and started toward him, but my foot got caught
in a fold and I stumbled and went sprawling.

           
He
reached up to steady me, but to my dismay I ended up sprawled on him instead of
the floor.
 
At first I was too
mortified to move, then mortification gave way to awareness, as I became
acutely conscious of every point of contact between his body and mine.
 
For a long moment I remained fixed and
still, then it occurred to me he was probably impatient to have me off of
him.
 
My face was pressed against
the side of his neck; I breathed in the scent of his skin, then began to pull
away.
 

           
But
he wouldn’t let me go.
 
His arms
tightened around me and he turned his head and pressed his mouth lightly
against my ear.
 
The warm tickle of
his breath and teasing touch of his lips sent a shiver through me, but the words
he whispered quickly transmuted desire back into anger.

           
“I
was serious about the danger, Christine.
 
Whatever may exist between you and Skouras, you’re a fool if you think
it will protect you in the long run.”

           
This
time there was nothing reluctant about the way I pulled away from him.
 
As I jerked to my feet, he followed in
one graceful, fluid motion.
 
He
took one end of the sheet that was threatening to slip away and draped it
carefully over my shoulder, then said in a deep undertone that tingled its way
up my spine, "Since your boyfriend's not about, perhaps you’d best put
some clothes on, else I might be tempted to start something we both would
regret."

           
"If
you really care about your nephew," I snapped, as I gathered up the
traitorous yardage and flung it over one arm, “you’ll spend a little less time
worrying about my love life --”
 
I
crossed to the armoire and snatched up some clothes.
 
“-- and a little more time wondering why Michael phoned a
relative stranger in the middle of the night wanting to talk.”
 
I disappeared into the bathroom and
slammed the door shut behind me.
 

           
When
I emerged, dressed, five minutes later he was standing where I'd left him.
 
"Why are you still here?" I
demanded.

           
“Michael
rang you up?"

           
I
gave a short, tight nod.

           
“In
the middle of the night?”
 
His eyes
sought mine, but I looked away.

           
“Actually,
early in the morning.
 
A little
after five.”

           
“What
was the matter?” he asked.
 
“Why
did he call?”

           
Hearing
the worry in his voice, I reluctantly met his gaze.
 
“He didn’t actually say anything was wrong.
 
He just wanted to know if I was coming
by to see him again.
 
I told him I
would.”

           
Geoffrey
crossed to where I was standing.
 
“You said there was a simple explanation for your being here.
 
I’d like to hear it now.”

           
As
always, his nearness affected me.
 
Trying to remain cool, I countered, “And I’d like to hear why you didn't
tell Lieutenant Mavros that Michael went to the Old Fort to meet
you
."

           
He
tensed.
 
"What do you fancy
the good Lieutenant would do if he knew I was the one who arranged for Michael
to be on that bench at the time he was attacked?"

           
"You
could have told him about the call decoying you away to the hospital," I
replied stubbornly.
 
"That
might have convinced him Michael really is in danger."

           
"Do
you think he would believe in a mysterious phone call that provides me with my
only alibi?" Geoffrey demanded.

           
"He
might have then,” I said.
 
“He
certainly won't now.
 
He knows
Michael went to the Old Fort to meet someone.
 
He has the note setting it up.
 
He asked me if I knew who it was from."

           
Geoffrey
regarded me grimly.
 
"And you
told him?"

           
"No,”
I said.
 
“He's an old friend of
Spiro's.
 
If I told him the note
was from you after you failed to tell him anything about the meeting -- well, I
suspect he wouldn't bother investigating anyone or anything else, he'd just
assume you were responsible."

           
He
tilted my face up to his.
 
"Thank you."

           
"I
didn't do it for you," I insisted.
 
"I did it for Michael.
 
He has too few people watching out for him as it is; it wouldn't help
him any to have Lieutenant Mavros throw you in jail."

           
The
hand under my chin was withdrawn.
 
"And here I thought you'd acted on my behalf.
 
Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose.”
 
He retreated a step.
 
“I'm grateful for your reticence.
 
I trust it won't get you into trouble
with Skouras?"

           
"Are
we back to that again?"

           
"You
were going to explain how you come to be here," he reminded me.

           
Sensing
his willingness to listen, I relaxed a little.
 
"Actually, Spiro invited me to stay that first day, but
it was obvious how Demetra felt about me, so I turned him down.
 
I didn't think there was anything to be
gained by staying here, or at least, I didn't until Michael phoned this
morning.
 
Then I began to wonder if
I shouldn't accept Spiro's invitation after all."

           
"Michael’s
phone call caused you to change your mind?"

           
"I
got to thinking maybe someone should be here to keep an eye on him.
 
Considering how your sister-in-law
feels about
you
, I decided I was the likeliest candidate, so I exercised
my feminine prerogative to change my mind, and here I am."

           
"As
easy as that?” he said.
 
“Demetra
didn't protest?”

           
"Oh,
she wasn't crazy about the idea, but I managed to convince her my being here
was the lesser of two evils.
 
I
told her you'd been pestering me endlessly to convert to your cause."

           
"And
Skouras?
 
What was his reaction to
your change of heart?"

           
"He
doesn't believe the explanation I gave his sister."

           
He
grimaced.
 
"That I was making
such a bloody nuisance of myself you had to get away?"

           
I
nodded.
 
"He thinks I'm really
here because I've changed my mind about his manly charms."

           
The
already taut line of Geoffrey’s mouth tightened further.
 
"Oh, he does, does he?" he
muttered.

           
"Yes,
he seems to think I've finally come to my senses, and that I'm using you as an
excuse to stay here and be near him.
 
I suppose that’s why he put me in this room.”

           
Geoffrey
ran an angry hand through his hair.
 
"That door -- it used to lock on this side.
 
Does it still?"

           
"Yes."

           
"Make
sure you keep it locked at night."

           
I
had, of course, intended to do just that, but there was no way to say so now
without having him think I was taking his orders.
 
"Afraid Spiro might pay me a late-night visit?"

           
"Dammit,
Christine!
 
Don't you realize the
danger you're in?"