The Innocent's Surrender (13 page)

Certainly large enough for multiple occupation, Natasha told herself, trying to be casual about it, and failing, as unwanted memories of the shower she?d taken with him Alex night?the touch of his hands on her body?came back to haunt her.

As she turned away hurriedly a thought came to her that, rather like the rest of the suite, every luxurious square inch of the bathroom seemed totally pristine and glossy, giving the impression that no one had set foot there before. Which, of course, was nonsense.

But it seemed that Alex Mandrakis had a fastidious streak wholly at odds with his raffish reputation, she acknowledged reluctantly, and his housekeeping staff must work their fingers to the bone keeping his various establishments in this kind of order.

It made her realise too how standards at the Villa Demeter had slipped since Thio Basilis had died. Neither Christina nor Maria seemed particularly adept in handling servants, she thought ruefully, and it showed.

She delighted Josefina by agreeing that everything was wonderful, then made her escape back into the saloon.

She sank down on one of the sofas, curling almost defensively into its corner.

Maybe she should concentrate on practicalities and get some rest while she could, working on the assumption that there might not be much opportunity later on, she told herself.

And she would not think of Alex Mandrakis and the way his smile lit the darkness of his eyes, or how the treacherous nerve-endings in her skin reacted to the mere brush of his mouth.

A journey to make together
?

Even the memory of the words was enough to make her body shiver, and press more deeply into the softness of the cushions.

Oh, why couldn?t he have been seriously unattractive like?like Stavros?s friend Yannis who had thick lips, fleshy hands and hair like wire wool?

And one of the young men who?d wanted to marry her three years ago, she remembered, appalled. Pleasant enough?in his way. Kind?probably. Rich?certainly. But in every other respect?

Was that the fate Thia Theodosia really wished she?d chosen? she wondered, wincing. Because that really could have been worse than death.

Almost on the same disaster level as her current situation.

Couldn?t Alex Mandrakis be satisfied with winning on a commercial level? she thought with bitterness. And not as if he had some personal score to settle? With me?

She should have been on her way back to London by now. That evening, in the ordinary way, she?d be at home, chatting to Molly and probably fixing herself some scrambled eggs, before taking a leisurely bath and falling into bed and dreamless sleep.

But there is no ordinary way, she thought bleakly. Not any more. Not for me. However bravely I may have spoken to Thia Theodosia, I know that nothing in my life will ever be the same again. And that I?ll never be truly free, either.

But what really frightens me is?why I am suddenly so sure of that.

And felt a shiver run through her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

NATASHA studied herself in the full-length mirror, then turned away, biting her lip. The cream silk slip of a dress, with its swirl of knee-length skirt and narrow shoulder straps, was certainly attractive and beautifully styled, but its design ruled out the wearing of a bra and the soft cling of the fabric over her breasts made her feel hideously self-conscious.

She hadn?t actually intended to change for dinner, or make any kind of effort, but Josefina had other ideas.

Or, more accurately, she was under orders. And the charcoal suit had been their first target.

?Kyrios Alexandros wishes not to see it again,? she?d announced, spreading her hands in apology. ?So, I take, if you please,
thespinis
.? She gestured towards the rail of dresses and casual wear in the wardrobe. ?So much loveliness from which to choose,? she added temptingly.

Natasha?s lips parted to deliver a stormy dismissal of all Alex Mandrakis?s wishes, past, present and still to come, but bit them back, unuttered.

Picking a fight over a coat and skirt was hardly in line with her plan for coldly indifferent obedience, she reminded herself wearily. Especially when she would be glad to rid herself of them, and their memories.

?Fine.? She?d forced a smile, managed a shrug. ?You can collect the suit while I have a shower.?

Josefina rummaged in a different part of the wardrobe, and with almost a flourish produced the silver robe, which, to Natasha?s astonishment, seemed to have been washed and ironed by some anonymous and hard-working soul since she?d taken it off that morning.

?Some career choice,? she muttered under her breath. ?Personal laundress to Alex Mandrakis?s women.?

On the other hand, she supposed it was steady work, and unlikely to slacken off in the long term.

Left to herself, she discovered the wardrobe drawers were a treasure chest of exquisite lingerie, all handmade in silk and lace, and, to her surprise, pretty rather than overtly erotic.

While in the bathroom, she was unnerved to find an array of toiletries?perfume sprays, creams and lotions?all in her favourite scent.

The helpful maid again, no doubt, she thought bitterly. And I can?t bear that he?s been able to find out so much about me when, until last night, he was a total stranger, as far as I was concerned. Someone I?d seen at a distance just once before.

But never really forgotten
?.

The words lanced into her consciousness, and remained there in spite of her efforts to dismiss them. As Alex himself had done three years before.

Yet that was hardly surprising, she told herself, considering his playboy notoriety.

The last time he?d hit the headlines had been following his thirtieth birthday party, where he?d been joined in
Selene
?s swimming pool by six beautiful girls, all naked, for what the tabloids described as ?a celebration sex romp?.

And one of them, Sharmayne Eliot, a luscious redhead who described herself as an actress and model, had later confided breathlessly to the world, ?He?s sensational. Now I know why they call him Alexander the Great.?

?I wonder how many languages he needed that night,? Natasha had muttered to herself at the time, ramming the offending newspaper into the waste basket with quite unnecessary vigour.

But if I ever felt even remotely superior to Sharmayne and her companions then I?m certainly paying for it now, she thought as she stepped into the shower.

When she emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and scented, with her hair dried into a shining curve on her shoulders, she found Josefina, fresh from her victory over the suit and ignoring all protests, waiting to give her a manicure.

Presumably Kyrios Alexandros preferred to be touched by women with soft hands, Natasha thought furiously, then was forced to endure, with gritted teeth, the additional coating of soft rose enamel that Josefina insisted on applying to her toenails.

It was mortifying to find herself being turned into some kind of clone of the smooth, pampered girls who were his usual companions.

But it was only a surface change. Some rough edges might have been removed in an attempt to make her fit the template, but it went no further than that. And it never would.

He had said she was beautiful, but Natasha knew that reasonably attractive would be a more accurate description, and that what looks she possessed would hardly compensate for her total lack of experience.

She must be the last woman in the world that any man would want as his mistress. But what did that matter when it was only Alex?s desire for revenge that needed to be satisfied? she thought bitterly.

She was his trophy?that was all?a symbol of his victory in a war that had lasted far too long, and of which she?d become a civilian casualty.

But whatever he wanted from her, she would bet that it would certainly not be the resentful passivity that awaited him. When he embarked on his journey into pleasure, he?d be travelling alone, she told herself resolutely. She would make quite sure of that.

It was sunset before Alex eventually arrived on board
Selene
.

Natasha had spent the intervening hours in the saloon, restless and edgy as she listened to the bumps, bangs and shouted orders which were the prelude to the
Selene
?s departure. She couldn?t really decipher what was going on, but she was aware of launches coming and going all the time, and presumed they were delivering more passengers. Perhaps other girls, in line with the yacht?s reputation, she thought, flinching. But if they provided a diversion, she could hardly complain.

Kostas appeared from time to time, mainly to ask with increasing anxiety if there was anything he could get for her, but also, at one point, to convey a message from Captain Whitaker that the boat bringing Kyrios Alexandros was on its way from the marina. News, no doubt, that was supposed to prompt her to rush out on deck to welcome him.

She thought, Not a damn chance.

Aloud, she said, ?
Efharisto
.? And returned to the magazine she was reading, staring at the printed words until they blurred.

She heard approaching footsteps, the sound of male voices laughing and talking just outside, and got quickly and clumsily to her feet, smoothing suddenly damp palms down the skirt of her dress, aware that she was trembling inside.

Then the door opened and Alex walked in.

Her immediate thought, which seemed to come from nowhere, was that he looked tired. He was carrying his discarded jacket and tie over his arm, his shirt was half-unbuttoned and he needed a shave.

His gaze sharpened when he saw her. He took a step towards her, and she froze into taut stillness, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. He halted instantly, his mouth twisting in sardonic acknowledgement.

When he spoke, his tone was coolly polite. ?
Kalispera, Natasha mou
. I apologise for keeping you waiting, but a simple meeting suddenly became complicated.?

She kept her own voice steady. ?If you?re in the mood for explanations, Kyrios Mandrakis, perhaps you?d tell me what I?m doing on this boat??

?I thought you were looking pale,
pedhi mou
, even a little stressed,? he drawled. ?I decided some sun and sea air might restore your colour, and your spirits. And that you might find a cruise among the islands less pressured than staying in Athens.?

?You made a decision, snapped your fingers, and?this happened??

?Pretty much,? he agreed, shrugging. ?But I spend much of my life on board the
Selene
. In many ways she has become my real home, so she is usually ready to sail when I require.?

He paused. ?I hope my people have made you comfortable.?

?Of course,? she said. ?As prisons go, this must be the lap of luxury.?

His brows lifted. ?Is that how you intend to regard me?as your jailer??

?Even that,? she said, the words like chips of ice, ?would be too flattering.?

There was a silence, then he said quietly, ?Natasha
mou
, this has been a long and difficult day. I do not need another fight, believe me, so have a care.?

He added, ?We sail in fifteen minutes. Once I have had a shower, I will take you round the
Selene
, so you can see for yourself the opportunities for relaxation that she offers.?

?No,? she said, stonily. ?Thank you. I?ve already been shown the bedroom, which I imagine is the only area on this boat that directly concerns me. And I don?t expect to find it particularly relaxing.

?But please don?t let me keep you from your other guests,? she added. ?I?m sure they?ll be dying to inspect the facilities. After all, they?re world famous.?

His mouth softened into a faint grin. ?Are you referring to the guests, or the facilities,
matia mou
? If it?s the guests, you are mistaken. Apart from the crew and staff, we shall be alone.?

It wasn?t what she?d expected to hear at all. She said, ?But I?I thought that you always invited crowds of people.?

?The boat sleeps fifteen.? He tossed his jacket and tie across the arm of a sofa, and began to release the remaining buttons on his shirt. ?Hardly a multitude. Are you disappointed??

She shrugged. ?What possible difference can it make to me? The
Selene
?s your yacht. You?re entitled to do as you please.?

?Yes,? he said softly. ?Which is why I intend to give you my entire and undivided attention,
agapi mou
.? He paused to allow her to assimilate his words. ?Although that will not be as simple as I?d hoped,? he went on, grimacing. ?Thanks to your brothers, the affairs of my new companies are tangled beyond belief; therefore I may be forced to leave you briefly from time to time.?

He added with faint mockery, ?I trust that will not be a problem for you,
agapi mou
? Or do you wish me to issue invitations?provide company for you when I am absent, so that you can practise your skills as a hostess??

She looked at him in horror. ?Oh, no?please. That?s the last thing I want.?

?And I thought that was myself,? he murmured. ?I am encouraged.?

He paused. ?I have been considering our itinerary. You have a favourite destination among the Cyclades? Paros, perhaps, or Santorini?? He smiled at her. ?If there is somewhere you would like to revisit, you have only to say so.?