The Innocent's Surrender (8 page)

?Your modesty is laudable, but unnecessary, Natasha
mou.
Because I am not merely people. I am your lover, and your body is a delight to me, so I wait impatiently for the moment when you will be as joyously naked with me as you once were, alone in the moonlight.

?And I do not share your inhibitions,
agapi mou,?
he added lightly. ?So you must accustom yourself to seeing me without my clothes. However, for you, I am already prepared to make a concession.?

He led her back into the bedroom, before opening another door adjacent to the bathroom and walking into what Natasha realised must be his dressing room.

He returned a moment later with a length of silver satin draped over his arm, which he handed to her.

It was a robe, she realised, admittedly without buttons or a zip, but better than nothing. And certainly better than a damp bath sheet, she told herself as she emerged discreetly from the folds of towelling, and slipped it on.

?Designed to fit all sizes, I presume,? she said coolly, as she wound the long sash securely round her waist.

?Bought yesterday for you, and no one else.? His correction was immediate and curt. ?Do you wish to see the receipt??

She bit her lip. ?No,? adding stiltedly. ?It?s?beautiful.
Efharisto.?

?Parakalo,?
he returned politely. He walked to the bed, straightening the sheets and putting the pillows back in place with casual efficiency.

?Feel free to join me as soon as you wish,? he told her, yawning, as he slid under the covers. ?Tomorrow will be a very long day.?

The satin whispered around her as she obeyed. It seemed he was quite serious about his intention to rest, because he was already turning on his side, his back towards her. Which presumably entitled her to do the same, she decided as she climbed into the other side of the bed, tucking the robe more firmly round her.

But, long after he was asleep, Natasha was still awake, unable to find oblivion so easily.

She tried to tell herself that it was anger and disgust holding her captive. That it was impossible for her to relax when the man who had used her so despicably for the sake of some shallow revenge was lying beside her.

At the same time she was aware that, if she was honest, it was only part of the truth. That her greatest struggle was against the edgy restlessness of her own body, which seemed determined to allow her no peace.

And for that, she realised, she could blame that endless, languorous time with him in the shower, which, for the first time in her life, had left her aroused in a way she?d never dreamed of.

Something for which she would never be able to forgive herself, she thought grimly. Especially as she suspected he?d done it quite deliberately to punish her for her earlier display of indifference.

But, whatever his motivation, and Alex Mandrakis was clearly a law unto himself, Natasha could neither explain nor excuse the way he?d made her feel. She only knew that she was shamed to her soul by the effect he?d had on her?and with so little effort too.

But that, of course, was how he?d earned his reputation. And it was her own small tragedy that her first experience of real desire should have been sparked by someone as worthless as he was.

Neil, she thought with sadness and regret, had never made her body ache with yearning in a way that kept her from sleep. And, if she?d slept with him, would it have been through passion or might it have been more from curiosity?a need to make discoveries about her untried sexuality, without necessarily making a lifetime commitment, but with a man she regarded as safe?

Something, she acknowledged bitterly, that could never be said about Alex Mandrakis. While loathsome and despicable didn?t even come close, either.

Not that Stavros and Andonis had emerged with any honour from the situation, either. She supposed that they?d slipped that second letter in amongst all the other papers requiring her signature.

Oh, God, she thought, fighting the sudden tears she could taste in her throat. Why didn?t I obey my instinct and refuse to have anything to do with their stupid deception? Then I?d have been spared this at least.

She had to accept that Neil now belonged very definitely to her past, and that what she had to concentrate on was the present?and the immediate future. And escaping permanently from the control of the enemy sleeping next to her had to be her number one priority.

And she needed to go quickly before he could fulfil his other threat?to make her pregnant.

Unless it had happened already, she thought with swift alarm, her hand going swiftly and protectively to her abdomen. But she wouldn?t believe that she could be that unlucky.

So, somehow, she had to persuade him that there was nothing to be gained by bringing another unwanted child into a world which held too many of them already. Or by continuing to deny her freedom.

Because there?s no reason for him to be doing this, she thought. Not any more. The feud has to be over, now that he?s taken?everything. The fact that I?ve spent tonight with him is quite enough to bring dishonour to the family. There?s no need for anything else.

And he can?t have found his encounter with a statue particularly rewarding, not when his world is full of willing girls, so why would he want to keep me around any longer anyway?

He must see that, she told herself passionately. I have to make him see it.

Because I belong back in London. I?m needed there. I have my share of the rent on the flat to pay, quite apart from the business. And it?s not just Molly to be considered?there?s the rest of the Helping Out staff.

He?s a businessman. Surely he?ll understand that at least.

Although his advance planning had been pretty thorough, even to sending out some secretary to buy her a dressing gown, she thought uneasily, feeling the brush of the satin against her skin. That in itself was a fair amount of trouble for a strictly short-term arrangement, let alone a one-night stand.

But she was particularly disturbed by his admission that he?d paid that secret night-time visit to the Villa Demeter. The thought of him standing there, watching her, made her whole body clench in embarrassment.

Although that sudden silence of the cicadas should probably have warned her that there was something wrong.

She wondered if Stelios, the security guard who?d sold them out, was still on the Papadimos payroll, because, if so, she?d make sure he was fired by the end of the day, even if it meant admitting that she been caught skinny-dipping.

Thia Theodosia would be shocked, of course, but that hardly mattered. She could only imagine her foster mother?s horror when?if?she learned what had happened here, in this room, tonight to the girl she?d always protected with such care.

And if Alex Mandrakis really intended to flaunt her publicly as his mistress as he?d threatened, there was no way Thia Theodosia could be guarded from the unpalatable truth.

She remembered, with a pang, that he?d said he would make her stay with him until she no longer wished to leave.

But that had just been words, surely, she thought. A meaningless boast that he could transform her into an ardent and willing partner.

Something that would never happen, she told herself with renewed vehemence. No matter what he did.

She found herself wondering how long it would take before he realised he was wasting his time and gave up on her. And, until then, how many nights she might be forced to spend lying in bed beside him, trying to sleep, and praying that he wouldn?t wake.

And, stifling a small, bitter sigh, Natasha turned her face into the pillow and closed her eyes.

In spite of herself, she slept eventually, and woke to a hand touching her shoulder.

Natasha shot bolt upright with a stifled cry to meet the startled gaze of a middle-aged woman in a dark dress and snow-white apron who was standing beside the bed.

?There is something wrong,
thespinis?
?

I could compile a very long list, thought Natasha, drawing a deep and calming breath. Aloud, she said, ?I?m sorry, I?I must have been dreaming.?

An ongoing nightmare where the hand touching me belonged to Alex Mandrakis
?.

Who had apparently vanished, she realised with a thankful heart, because the bed at her side was empty.

It occurred to her that she had not heard him leave, but no doubt one of his skills was an ability to extricate himself from a situation that had served its purpose.

So, maybe last night?s difficult heart-searchings had been unnecessary, after all, she thought, a flicker of hope stirring inside her.

Perhaps his night?s rest had prompted some second thoughts, bringing Alex Mandrakis to the same conclusion as herself?that there was no need to prolong their encounter any further?and she would therefore be allowed to leave without argument.

The woman said placidly. ?I am Baraskevi to wait on you,
thespinis
. If you wish a bath, I will prepare it for you. And I have brought your clothes,? she added.

Natasha?s eyes widened as she realised that the shirt and underwear now folded on the bed had been freshly laundered, by some magical means, while her travel-creased suit was on a hanger, neatly pressed.

The kind of service honed to perfection by long practice, she thought. Finding a strange girl in her master?s bed was nothing new for Baraskevi, but something she?d learned to take in her stride.

But how did the girls feel when they woke in the unshadowed light of day to find themselves alone? Natasha wondered.

Even discreetly covered by the satin robe, she felt desperately awkward and self-conscious, as she realised how many people in the household must know of her presence?and why she?d been brought there.

On the positive side, however, she saw with a leap of the heart that her bag and overnight case had also reappeared.

Which had to be tacit permission to depart, she thought, saving them both another confrontation. Better and better.

And was very glad she hadn?t yielded to a momentary temptation to ask Baraskevi where he was.

?Thank you,? she said stiltedly. ?And a bath would be good.?

It might even make her feel clean again, she thought, her throat tightening, as she watched the older woman vanish into the bathroom.

She was still aware that she ached slightly?a potent and inescapable reminder of everything that had happened. But the real bruising was to her pride, and to the sense of independence she?d fought so hard to achieve.

I might as well have let Thio Basilis line up the most eligible males?and let me pick one at random, she thought. At least Alex Mandrakis wouldn?t have been among them.

She pushed back the covers and swung her feet to the floor, refastening the sash of her robe as she did so. Before wakening her, Baraskevi had drawn back the curtains and opened the shutters, allowing the untrammelled sunlight to pour into the room, together with a welcome freshness in the air.

One storm may well have passed, she told herself wryly. But the next is about to begin. That?s inevitable. Except it may not leave quite as much devastation in its wake as I feared.

She unzipped her case and retrieved her toiletries, then quickly checked the contents of her handbag to make sure that her passport and wallet were still safely inside, and that she could just?walk away. Not unscathed. There were some memories that would haunt her for a very long time.

But not forever. Because there would come a day she would belong to herself alone again, and this would appear nothing but a bad dream.

I swear it, she told herself, and went to take her bath.

The warm water, scented with sandalwood, turned out to be precisely what she needed, although she could have done without having to put on last night?s discarded clothes again afterwards.

At the first opportunity, she thought as her face warmed, I shall burn every damned stitch. I need no reminder of how I was once made to take them off.

Dressed, with her hair twisted back into its knot, she went to pick up her bags, then paused. Maybe there was one more memento she could take and burn, she thought. That letter.

She walked round the bed and opened the drawer in the night table, but the file had gone, along, she realised, with his laptop, which had been on the floor.

She sighed with frustration, then went back across the room, flinging open the unlocked door. Only to walk into the human equivalent of a brick wall.

As she recoiled, she realised it was the man who?d met her at the airport last night.

?Kalimera, thespinis.?
His greeting was just as expressionless as it had been then. ?Breakfast is waiting for you on the terrace. I will take you there.?

?Thank you, but I?m not hungry,? Natasha returned coldly. Actually, she was ravenous, but she wasn?t going to admit it. ?And I would prefer to leave at once.?

?That is something you must discuss with Kyrios Alexandros,
thespinis,?
he said, detaching her bags from her grasp with implacable firmness. ?He is waiting for you. Go with me, please.?

She almost said, And if I don?t? but decided she didn?t really want to hear the answer.

If, after all, she was to be forced into another encounter with the enemy, she reasoned, she?d rather walk there than be carried under someone?s arm, perhaps, with her feet ignominiously dangling.