The Innocent's Surrender (21 page)

Prompting him to take a second look at his potential bride, she reasoned, if only to make sure hers was a face he could endure to see on the adjoining pillow on those rare nights that he?d spend at home, so that the occasional performance of his marital duties would not prove too onerous a task.

All of which, with the connivance of the venal Stelios, had led to that covert night-time visit.

Even so, she told herself, he?d taken one hell of a risk.

He?d have assumed, of course, at that hour she?d be deeply and peacefully asleep, not lying awake fretting over her brothers? gleefully revealed schemes.

A moment or two on either side, she mused, and they?d probably have met on the staircase leading up to her balcony, with Alex making an undignified dash for safety before her screams alerted the entire household.

Because she would have screamed?wouldn?t she?

And he would have run.

Unless, of course, he?d stood his ground and survived the inevitable fallout by pretending he?d acted on some wild, romantic whim. And if he?d also added that, having seen her again, he was prepared for the wedding to take place at once, Stavros and Andonis would have been left without a leg to stand on.

Because, ostensibly, that was what they wanted too, and they would not have dared to say otherwise.

It would have been down to her, instead, to flatly repudiate any notion of marriage between them, and make it clear she was returning to England without delay.

Which would have been the end of it, she thought, sighing silently. No fatally damaging letters sent, and all subsequent recriminations thankfully settled in her absence. Her life her own again.

But it didn?t happen like that, she reminded herself flatly. Because he didn?t get as far as the stairs to your room. He didn?t have to when you were there at the pool, with your clothes off. Driven there because, once again, you couldn?t sleep for thinking of him, even if you tried to pretend it was nothing of the kind. That he was no longer a problem.

And nothing else happened, either. Remember that. Because he didn?t walk forward into the moonlight, take the towel from your hands, dry you slowly and gently, then kiss you as he did the other night.

And felt her nipples harden swiftly and involuntarily against the fabric that draped them as she recalled the unlooked-for sweetness of his hands and mouth.

At the same time, it occurred to her that it was not very wise to fantasise about her lover?s caresses when she?d been left alone with no idea when she would see him again, or if he would even want to touch her when he did return.

She needed to re-focus her attention, she thought with a kind of desperation. And maybe this was the time for a belated tour of the
Selene
?surely a better option than spending more time cooped up in the suite, brooding.

?My real home,? Alex had once said, and maybe it would give her some further clue into this other identity of his that was slowly being revealed to her. A man who was ?a good mate? and went the extra mile for friendship?s sake, as opposed to being merely the casual playboy of the Press stories.

Someone who?d once been lonely and shy, and was still capable of being vulnerable instead of merely a vengeful, uncaring predator.

A lover whose undoubted expertise had been mingled with heart-stopping tenderness.

And a man who had once loved a woman to the point of desperation without the return he?d longed for.

?You may find him kinder than you think.? Thia Theodosia?s words, dismissed at the time but now stinging at her memory. Provoking more questions for which she desperately needed answers.

Accordingly, when she?d finished breakfast, she sought out Mac Whitaker on the bridge.

?I was wondering,? she said diffidently, ?if you could spare someone to show me round the boat. Or shall I ask Kostas??

He swung himself out of his chair. ?No need for that, Miss Kirby.? His smile was suddenly much warmer. ?I?ll go with you myself. Be glad to.?

They started on the main deck in the vast saloon, which he told her was used principally for entertaining, with its graceful fluted columns supporting the corniced ceiling, and the adjoining formal dining room.

Looking at the long, polished table under the elaborate chandelier, Natasha found she was remembering Alex?s sardonic offer to let her practise being a hostess and winced inwardly at the thought of having to sit facing him at the other end of that expanse of gleaming wood.

She was glad to turn away and concentrate instead on the nearby conference room, sited next door to Alex?s private office, which was the only place where she was not permitted access.

?More than my life is worth,? Mac informed her cheerfully. ?And it?s locked anyway.?

She gasped when she saw the small but comfortable cinema, and was entirely lost for words when she realised that another room had been fitted out as a children?s play area.

?A lot of Alex?s friends have kids,? Mac said as she turned to him, her eyes widening incredulously. ?He?s godfather to quite a few of them. And sometimes his business contacts are invited to bring their families too. He reckons it makes for a more relaxed atmosphere outside working hours when the meetings are over.?

Natasha tried to imagine Stavros and Andonis and their wives, not to mention Irini, as the
Selene
?s guests, enjoying all this laidback luxury, but failed totally.

Each of the elegant staterooms and their glamorous bathrooms had been individually designed, and obvious thought had gone into the provision of the crew?s quarters, while the galleys, where she?d been greeted by Yannis, the beaming chef, were an immaculate and efficient dazzle of stainless steel.

An hour later as they sat beside the swimming pool, sipping the iced lemonade Kostas had brought them, he said, ?So, what do you think??

Natasha drew a deep breath. ?Amazing,? she said. ?And also stunningly beautiful. A floating palace.?

But not exactly a home perhaps, she thought, although that might partly account for Alex?s restlessness, and his reluctance to settle down. It was just too simple for him to up anchor and sail away when the mood took him.

She hesitated. ?It?s strange that his father?s remained a widower all this time. You?d have thought he?d have remarried and provided Alex with a more stable background and some brothers and sisters.?

?Well, Kyrios Petros isn?t exactly in the best of health,? Mac said slowly. ?Years ago he was involved in a bad car accident and ended pretty smashed up. He?s had a few operations since then, particularly on his back, but he still walks with a stick.?

?Oh.? Natasha?s brows lifted. ?I?I had no idea.? And that was no more than the truth, she thought in bewilderment. There?d never been the least mention of any past accident, or injury to Basilis?s hated rival. The perceived wisdom at the Villa Demeter had always represented Petros Mandrakis as the devil incarnate, the strong, all-powerful enemy.

Certainly not with the human face of a man no longer young, perhaps living his life in pain, who needed to lean on a cane when he walked.

?Alex doesn?t talk about it much,? Mac was saying. ?But I guess that?s why he persuaded Kyrios Petros to let him take the strain over the companies earlier than he wanted, maybe, in order to give the old man a chance to get some rest, and more treatment. In fact, he?s in Switzerland seeing a new specialist right now.?

She said quietly, ?It must be worrying for Alex.?

?Sure,? he said. ?He and his dad have become pretty close these past few years. If the Papadimos bunch want to keep the feud going, they?ll find they have a real fight on their hands.?

?Yes,? she said. ?I?m sure they will.? She took a deep breath, then smiled at him brightly. ?You mentioned earlier that you were engaged. Please tell me about your fianc?e.?

He was clearly delighted to do so, producing a photograph of a pretty brunette with candid eyes and a curving mouth.

?We?re planning to get married next year,? he told her, ?and settle down in Oz.?

?You?re giving up the sea??

?Hell, no. We?re planning to start our own boat-charter service.? He looked around him. ?I?ll miss the
Selene
, of course, but there?s no guarantee she?ll be around for much longer?not if Alex finally decides to please his dad and bite the bullet by settling down too, once a suitable heiress appears.?

She said steadily, ?Is that likely??

He looked uncomfortable, clearly regretting his frankness. ?Pretty inevitable, I?d say. Kyrios Petros wants the dynasty made secure, and now Alex is heading up the Mandrakis business empire, he?ll have less time anyway for?for??

?Diversions like me?? Natasha supplied. ?It?s all right,? she added reassuringly as his face reddened even further in embarrassment. ?I?m under no illusions about my place in his life, and when the time comes, I?ll go quietly.?

She paused. ?So, what time will we get to Alyssos??

?Around mid-afternoon.? He snatched with relief at the change of topic. ?Josefina?s started packing for you now. And she?ll be going ashore with you too. So you?ll have a familiar face about you from day one.?

?Oh.? Natasha digested this. ?Doesn?t she mind??

?Far from it. It?s a bit of a homecoming for her as her dad, Zeno, is major-domo at the villa, and her mother, Toula, is the housekeeper.? He added, still with faint awkwardness, ?You?ll be well looked after, Miss Kirby. Alex has seen to that.?

After he?d excused himself, and gone back to the bridge, Natasha sat for a long time, lost in thought, as ideas, questions, impressions and snatches of conversation jostled each other in her mind.

She felt as if she?d been presented with an inextricably knotted skein of wool to disentangle, or a jigsaw with innumerable missing pieces. That the past, present and future were somehow a jumble of events that could make sense if only she knew where to begin.

But maybe it would be simpler if that was all she had to deal with, she thought with irony.

Instead, she found her thoughts dominated?haunted?by the prospect of Alex, the dutiful son. Alex, the husband. Alex, the father.

And could only hope that when it?the inevitable, the unbearable?happened, some merciful providence would ensure that she was long gone and far away.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE beach below the house on Alyssos wasn?t large?just a crescent of pale sand shelving gently into the Aegean, reduced even further by a large boathouse and a wooden jetty on one side?but it had become Natasha?s chosen refuge during the long days she?d spent waiting for Alex.

She was not, she thought drily, the only one. The whole household seemed aquiver with anticipation, waiting almost on tiptoe for the master?s return. Although he seemed in no hurry to oblige them. Or herself.

In his absence, she seemed to have entered a kind of limbo, trapped there between unease and loneliness, as one baking day succeeded another. And the nights were worse, as she lay in the darkness, tense and shivering with a need that only Alex could satisfy.

Not that there was any guarantee that he intended to do so. This time her clothes and belongings had not been placed with his in the master bedroom, but taken to a guest room at the far end of a long corridor, and when Josefina, surprised into indiscretion, had queried the arrangement she had been quickly silenced by a look from her father.

Zeno was a tall, grizzled man whose behaviour, while totally correct, was nevertheless faintly aloof, an attitude echoed by his plump, bustling wife. In addition, neither of them seemed to speak much English, which made her all the more glad of Josefina?s generally uncomplicated cheerfulness. And she could not deny that the food and service at the villa were impeccable. All the same there was?something.

And when Natasha, puzzled, asked Josefina if she hadn?t been expected, the Greek girl admitted with some embarrassment that her parents had always believed that the first girl brought by Kyrios Alexandros to his Alyssos home would be his bride.

Making me a very downmarket substitute, Natasha told herself in self-derision. No wonder they don?t approve. And it?s my own fault. He asked me about islands. I happened to mention this one.

And she could understand why Thia Theodosia had loved Alyssos, having always suspected that her foster mother found the noise and hurly-burly of Athens oppressive.

At the same time, she found herself wondering where Madame Papdimos?s house was situated and who occupied it now. And how much it had cost her to give it up?a sacrifice, she supposed, to the god of marriage.

And another reason, she thought, why I decided to leave three years ago?in case I became another one.

Although if I?d stayed and done what Thio Basilis saw as my duty, I wouldn?t be in this mess now.

She toyed briefly with the idea of asking Zeno, but soon abandoned it. He was a Mandrakis man, she acknowledged ruefully. Any mention of the name Papadimos would probably be like waving a red rag in front of a bull.

In the meantime, she decided it would be good to touch base with Molly. Find out how business was going, and assure her that she?d be back soon. Try and resume something approaching normality, she thought drily, in preparation for her eventual return to London and the real world.

But her request for the use of a telephone or access to a computer had been politely parried. Such facilities, she was given to understand, were in the remit of Kyrios Alexandros only, who would no doubt be glad to assist her on his return.