The Innocent's Surrender (17 page)

Constancy, she thought, bitterly, had nothing to do with it. He was an unrepentant serial womaniser, and his first love, whoever she was, had been lucky to escape.

She supposed she could have chilled out, calmed down her edgy restlessness with a cool shower, or even a whole series of them, but she?d been deterred by the realisation that there were no locks on any of the doors in the suite, and that Alex could walk in on her at any moment. A ludicrous attitude, probably, in view of the events of the recent past, but that was how it was. Or how she was, anyway.

So she?d waited until Josefina was around, counting on her presence as a kind of safeguard.

And, by the time Alex eventually appeared in the bedroom, she was safely zipped into the chosen dress and brushing her hair at the dressing table.

He?d paused, and she?d forced herself to sit quietly, enduring the appraisal of his dark gaze, instinct telling her that the pallor of her skin against the stark black would have an allure and a promise all its own. Reminding him of how she would look when the dress was gone.

And she?d tensed involuntarily until he?d said, ?You are very lovely, Natasha,? and continued on his way into the bathroom.

When she?d sat very still, staring at her reflection, realising that every time he came into this room in future she would wonder if he was going to take her in his arms.

And asking herself how she would bear it when it finally happened.

The Restaurant Leda was at the end of yet another alleyway. They were greeted with grave pleasure by the head waiter, and led through an intimately shadowed bar area, where Iorgos detached himself to take a seat at a corner table, into a large, brightly lit room abuzz with chatter and laughter from the crowded tables. From there, they went out into the courtyard beyond, where there were rather more secluded eating areas in vine-covered arbours.

As Alex removed the taffeta wrap from her shoulders she noted that their places had been set side by side, which involved joining him on the long cushioned seat.

He said, ?Would you like a drink??

?Thank you,? she said, adding defiantly, ?Ouzo.?

He grinned. ?Oblivion and a hangover in preference to me,
matia mou
??

?How clever of you to guess,
kyrie
.?

?Strangely, it did not require any particular intelligence,? Alex said drily as he gave the order.

When it arrived, he added water to the spirit in each glass, then handed her the drink, touching his glass to hers.

?To pleasure, my beautiful girl,? he said, and drank.

She murmured something incoherent in return, and took a gulp of the cloudy mixture, only to be overcome by a fit of helpless coughing as the flavour of anise caught her breath.

Alex swiftly took the ouzo from her hand, and gave her an immaculately folded linen handkerchief from his pocket to mop her streaming eyes as a concerned waiter came running with a tumbler of mineral water, which Alex took from him.

?Sip this,? he directed tersely. ?But carefully.?

She obeyed, mortified to realise that their table was now the cynosure for all eyes around the courtyard.

?Thank you,? she said, when she could speak. ?I?d forgotten how much I loathe ouzo.?

His brows lifted. ?Then why ask for it? Or did you hope to escape my attentions later tonight by choking to death? Is that not a little extreme, even for you??

She played with the edge of his handkerchief, not looking at him. ?I suppose I thought if I got very drunk, very quickly, you wouldn?t like it.?

?And if I lost my temper again, you might be left to sleep alone a second time?? There was a jeering note in his voice. He shook his head slowly. ?No, Natasha
mou
. The next time I walk away will be when it is finished between us. And that is still in the future.?

He paused. ?And now, if you are quite recovered, we shall order our food. Do you like seafood? Because the
souvlaki
with langoustines are particularly good here. And I can recommend the chicken in walnut sauce, or the beef with capers to follow.?

And how could she maintain the required fa?ade of indifference, when it was all she could do not to lick her lips and sob in anticipation of the culinary wonders to come?

The waiter brought dishes of hummus and tzatziki with a basket of freshly baked bread, and a bottle of crisp white wine.

The skewered and grilled langoustines appeared on a bed of golden rice with a side salad, while the chicken that Natasha had asked for and Alex?s choice of beef came with baby potatoes baked in their skins, okra and green beans.

Natasha ate every scrap put in front of her, and drank her share of the richly flavoured red wine which had succeeded the white, although she tried to protest at one point when the waiter arrived to refill her glass.

?Do you want me to be drunk, after all,
kyrie
?? she asked Alex, lifting her chin.

?By no means,
matia mou
.? He smiled at her. ?Just?a little more relaxed than you were when the evening began.?

But she shook her head resolutely when Alex suggested dessert, although, when his baked figs arrived, stuffed with nuts and spices and drizzled with honey, she found herself accepting the first taste he offered to her on his spoon.

Pure temptation, she thought weakly. And wondered, with sudden shock, whether she was referring to the figs or to the man beside her.

Because she had relaxed, and she knew it. Although she was sitting close beside him, he?d not attempted even a vestige of an amorous overture. In fact, there?d been times when she?d almost felt secure in his company, as if he was someone she might really want to be with. And, most astonishing of all, he?d actually made her laugh. More than once.

But of course he had, she thought dazedly. This is how he operates?the secret of his success with women.

And I, like the world?s biggest fool, am making it so pathetically easy for him.

?Is something wrong?? His quiet question brought her back to the here and now.

?How could there be?? She smiled coolly at him. ?This is a place in a million, Kyrios Mandrakis. I shall remember this fabulous food when I?m back in London trying to grab a sandwich.?

?Along with many other pleasant memories, I hope,? he said sardonically, and signalled for the bill.

If he?d been playing games with her, this was the signal they were over, she thought as she rose, collecting her wrap and purse.

She was shaking inside again as she walked back through the restaurant, pausing while he responded to greetings from other diners, and shook hands with a large, calm faced man in the blue checked trousers and white tunic of the chef, who had emerged from the kitchen to speak to him.

A royal progress, she thought, gathering her fragile defences, for Alexander the Great displaying his latest conquest.

Quite apart from her choking trick, she?d been aware all evening of the attention their table was receiving and not just from the staff. Most of it had been discreet, but a few people had stared openly.

But this presumably was how her life would be lived for a while?in the public eye?and there wasn?t a single thing she could do about it.

As they walked back to where the boat was moored, Natasha caught one of her ridiculous heels on an uneven paving slab, and stumbled.

In the next instant, Alex was at her side. ?Take care,
pedhi mou
,? he cautioned, lifting her off her feet and into his arms. ?A broken ankle would not suit my plans at all.?

As he carried her along the harbour, Natasha said breathlessly, ?Put me down. Put me down at once, do you hear??

?Why should I?? he countered, laughing, before adding more huskily, ?Ah, God, but you feel so good in my arms.?

The flash seemed to come from nowhere. Natasha flinched, but Alex?s stride did not even falter as he rapped out a harsh expletive.

Iorgos pounded past, his face like thunder, but came back shaking his head as they heard the departing roar of a motor cycle.

A few minutes later, as they sat in the bows, watching the
Selene
drawing ever closer, Alex said softly, ?I am sorry for that,
agapi mou
. The Leda has a blacklist of reporters and photographers to protect its clients. But I think tonight that someone sitting near us used his mobile to tip off the Press. He seemed over-busy with it at times. If so, I have just given them the picture of the year.?

?Why apologise?? She stared rigidly into the darkness. ?It will serve to establish my exact place in your life, which is exactly what you intended to happen. You told me so.?

?That is true,? he said. ?But I meant it to be in my own time, and in my own way.?

Yes, she thought bleakly. That was always how it would be, from the first moment of taking to the last, when she would be banished from his life forever.

Suddenly and shockingly, she experienced the taste of tears, thick and acrid, in her throat.

And thought, fear twisting inside her, This is madness?.

CHAPTER NINE

BUT it was not the evening?s only madness, Natasha thought, as she stood at the window in the saloon, staring numbly at the lights of Mykonos, glittering and sparkling in the distance.

Because, for one brief, incredible moment, while she was being carried in Alex?s arms, she?d known an almost overwhelming impulse to put her arms round his neck and bury her face against the curve of his shoulder.

And, but for the unknown photographer?s intervention, she might even have done so. Which would have been a disaster of untold proportions.

What?s happening to me? she thought desperately. I don?t seem to know myself any more. And this at a time when I need every atom of strength?of resistance?that I can summon.

That?s what I should be concentrating on in these last few moments while I?m still alone?protecting myself, building a wall against him.

As they came back on board, Alex had paused for a quiet word with Mac Whitaker, but instinct told her their conversation would not be prolonged. That this might be her last fleeting opportunity for any real privacy, emotional or physical.

As she entered the saloon, she?d dropped her wrap and purse on the sofa and kicked off her shoes, before making her way barefoot into the bedroom.

The setting was exactly the same as the previous night, she noted, her heart lurching, with the bed cover turned down in invitation, the shaded lamps lit and yet another pretty nightdress laid out for her in readiness. All of it telling her plainly that she was expected to be waiting for him submissively in bed.

And only half an hour before, she might have been able to do just that. Could have managed, somehow, to lie back as planned, close her eyes and endure whatever he wanted from her, comforting herself with the reflection that nothing lasted forever.

Instead, thanks to that instant of unwelcome self-revelation, she?d found herself backing away into the saloon, and now she was standing here as if rooted to the spot, her mind whirling in a spiral of conflict that she was unable either to control, or to understand.

And she was frightened, too.

But was she more afraid of him or of herself? That was the question burning into her brain, and she was still struggling to find the answer when, although she?d heard no sound, she suddenly knew beyond question that she was no longer alone.

Once again her emotional antennae seemed to be working overtime, she thought, dry-mouthed, aware that her skin was tingling.

She saw his reflection in the window as he came silently to stand behind her. His arms slid round her waist, drawing her back against him. For a fraction of a second her body stiffened in resistance, then, in spite of herself, began to relax as the warmth, the nearness of him invaded her consciousness, dispelling the tension that seemed her only armour.

But, at the same time, forcing her to realise, with shame, how easy it would be to stay like this, resting in his embrace, her head leaning back against his chest. How, in some totally unbelievable way, she felt?almost safe?.

But there was no sanctuary in Alex?s arms. He was a ruthless sexual predator, and she must never forget that for a minute, she reminded herself, swallowing. Or overlook the fact that it was entirely because of him that she stood in need of a refuge in the first place.

But it was so difficult to remember all these vital factors or even start to fortify her weakening defences against him when he was turning her without haste to face him, one hand capturing her chin in order to raise her trembling mouth for his kiss.

Especially when his lips were so warm, and compellingly, insidiously gentle as they explored her own. As if, she thought dazedly, this was the first time he?d ever held her?touched her. And, even more strangely, as if her innocence were still a gift for her to bestow, and he was seeking her willing consent.

When he lifted his head, she swayed in his arms, feeling almost bereft, as the deep, powerful ache of unfulfilled desire slowly reawakened inside her. Reminding her with shaming candour that this was not the first time he had made her want him, against her will and judgement.

He was looking down at her, his eyes gravely searching hers, as if he knew and understood her inner struggle.