by Mandy Baggot
‘It will make the best of stories to tell at dinner parties,’ Elias told her.
‘You seem so sure,’ Becky whispered, looking directly at him.
‘Because I am sure,’ he told her. ‘To begin with, when confronted by my feelings for you, I tried to tell myself it was not happening, that maybe I had been struck by some temporary insanity that had descended like a flu virus…’
‘I’m feeling exceedingly flattered to be compared to a contagion,’ Becky answered with a wry grin.
‘But,’ Elias continued, ‘I wanted to be infected. That was at the heart of it. Denying that truth was like denying I am Greek or denying that I work too much.’ He trailed his fingers down her arm, feeling every nuance of the softness of her sun-kissed skin. ‘I am completely sure that you are the only woman who has even turned my head since… in years,’ he carried on. ‘And I am also sure that you are the most kind and caring, the most funny and engaging… the most beautiful person I have ever met.’
‘Elias…’
He could see she was blushing now. She had dropped her eyes from his and was now looking out at the sea as it swayed around the boat.
‘What?’ Elias asked her. ‘It is all true. But you should know you are terrible at taking a compliment.’
‘I don’t… get them every often.’ He saw her look increasingly uncomfortable. ‘Not like that.’
‘What can I do to make you believe me?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Elias. You are…’
He shifted closer to her, until their bare thighs were touching and there was a tightening in his Speedos. ‘I am what?’
‘All the sexy,’ Becky breathed, finally meeting his eyes. ‘All the hot… and all the compelling.’
‘Compelling,’ he said, one eyebrow raising.
‘Yes. Compelling.’
He brought his mouth to the soft, delicate skin of her neck and dropped a kiss on her throat, feeling her shiver.
*
Becky wanted to feel this way until the end of time. She was on the brink of something here, something that could be the most special time of her entire life. But she was as much filled with excitement and anticipation as she was filled with nervousness and tension. She closed her eyes, letting the heat and motion of Elias’s mouth be her only anchor. Gradually, as his lips swept over her, she lowered herself down onto the soft, leatherette pads of the boat and revelled in the uncharacteristic naughtiness of this.
Her fingers reached up to the straps of her swimsuit and she lowered them off her shoulders.
‘Captain Rebecca,’ Elias whispered.
She kept her eyes closed and managed a small high-pitched noise of reply, wriggling with want. She was so deliciously warm, her skin from the Greek sun, her insides from the Greek man… except Elias had stopped kissing her. Why had he stopped kissing her?
She opened her eyes then and he was still half-sitting, half-lying next to her but there was indecision written in his expression.
‘What’s the matter?’ Becky whispered, edging upwards a little. ‘Did I do something wrong?’
‘No,’ Elias said immediately. ‘My God, no.’
‘Then please, kiss me again,’ Becky begged, reaching to palm the light stubble on his jawline. ‘Take off my swimming costume and kiss me all over. And then…’ She stopped, the words almost catching in her throat.
‘And then?’ he queried, putting his hand on hers.
‘Then… make love to me,’ Becky said, her voice thick with desire. ‘Make love to me on this boat… and all the days after today… until we… until we die from the trying.’
It seemed that Elias needed no further encouragement and his mouth was instantly on hers, hot and filled with passion, his chest aligning with hers, his hips close. Becky reached up, encircling her arms around his neck. She didn’t want to wait any longer. She pulled him down on top of her.
Fifty-Three
‘Open your mouth.’
‘Again?’
‘You are crazy,’ Elias breathed. ‘I meant for the octopus.’
‘Oh… really?’
‘You sound disappointed.’
‘There’s always dessert, isn’t there?’
Who was this wanton individual who suddenly knew more flirtatious banter than all the Take Me Out contestants put together? Perhaps it was down to the fact she had spent the past hour exploring every square inch of Elias’s body – and there were a lot of inches in the very best of ways – and also feeling confident enough to display herself exactly as she was for the first time in a long time. There was no hiding on the sunbathing deck when you were completely naked. And there was also a unique thrill when she recalled that, at any moment, another boat could arrive alongside their vessel and see literally everything. Although Becky wasn’t sure she would have noticed if anyone had arrived. The only coming she had been aware of was her own. Four times. Then Elias’s, in a jumble of holding tight, wanting to be even tighter, gasped breaths and a squeal from her not dissimilar to the noise she had made when pretending to be a pig…
And then they had swum. She, Becky Rose, had jumped into the air off the front of the boat uncaring about which sea critter might want to nibble her first. She was high on life, celebrating the gorgeous Greek sunshine and the cooling, aquamarine ocean and realising just how lucky she was to be experiencing all this.
Becky smiled at Elias then and opened her mouth, ready for whatever he was going to put in there. Although she suspected it really was going to be food this time…
A delicate piece of something hit her tongue and she let out another noise she didn’t usually own. ‘Oh, Elias, what is this?’
‘You cannot tell?’ Elias asked. ‘I thought you were the woman with the most refined palate who can tell almost anything.’
‘OK,’ Becky said, eyes still closed, sitting forward a little and concentrating on the flavours in her mouth. ‘Give me a second…’ She could smell the sea air and even the sunshine and it was distracting her from the task in hand. She honed in on the subtleties currently resting on her taste buds. ‘It’s lobster,’ she said, breathing quietly through her nose and pushing the food gently over her tongue so as to absorb all the flavours. ‘With… fennel… definitely fennel.’ She concentrated harder. ‘Lemon… and… onion and maybe white wine and… dill. A little dill.’
‘Wow,’ Elias replied.
Becky opened her eyes then, finally swallowing the delicious food. ‘What?’
‘Your skills are impressive,’ he told her.
‘I think you also said that earlier,’ Becky answered. ‘Except earlier you said I was “amazing” and—’
‘Incomparable,’ he finished.
‘That was really, really sexy,’ Becky told him, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.
‘You are really, really sexy,’ he answered, kissing her back.
‘Can we do it in a tuk-tuk one day?’ Becky whispered.
‘What?’
‘Never mind.’ She laughed and looked for her glass of champagne. She had had three glasses of champagne and was thoroughly glad she wasn’t driving the Aston Martin… or the Ferrari… or actually even a bicycle. ‘Where did my glass go?’ she asked Elias. ‘I didn’t knock it overboard, did I?’
‘We are done with champagne,’ Elias told her.
‘Oh.’
‘Do not sound so disappointed. I have something else I would like you to try.’
‘Another position?’ Gosh, the alcohol was loosening her tongue… or maybe she had sunstroke. She put a hand to her head to feel if it was too hot.
‘Captain Rebecca…’
‘Field Marshal,’ Becky said, connecting their lips again. ‘Call me Field Marshal.’
Elias quickly ducked down a little, producing a fat-bottomed glass from the hamper he had been picking delicacies from and began to pour a golden-brown liquid into it. It smelled divine and Becky immediately felt a spark of familiarity somehow.
‘What is it?’
‘Oh no
,’ Elias said. ‘You have to taste it first. I want to know what you sense from it.’
‘I’m not a circus act, you know,’ Becky teased. ‘I don’t read food and then tell fortunes like Zoltar.’
‘Take a sip,’ Elias encouraged, offering out the glass.
Becky took it, cradling its bottom with her palm and swirling it a little. ‘It’s a brandy.’ She put her nose over the rim and inhaled. ‘Or is it? I’m not quite sure. It’s rich but also light.’
‘Taste it,’ Elias encouraged.
Becky put the glass to her lips and took the tiniest of sips at first. Then, she took in more, letting the amber-coloured liquid coat her tongue. ‘Wow… it’s sweet and warm… so warm and… there’s fruit notes and maybe… toffee?’
‘My God,’ Elias said. ‘You really are a tasting genius.’
‘What is it?’ Becky asked, enjoying the spread of heat to her throat as the drink slipped down.
‘It is Metaxa,’ he replied. ‘This one a seven-star. And you just told me the exact taste sensation it should provide as written on their website.’
‘What can I say?’ Becky asked with a smile. ‘Except… yes!’
‘Yes?’ Elias asked, watching her animation.
‘Yes! This is it!’ Becky exclaimed, bouncing a little on her seat. ‘This is what is missing from your mother’s stifado.’
‘Metaxa?’ Elias queried.
‘I’ve been trying to think what it was that would bring all of her flavours together and increase the richness. I was thinking of a cognac my dad used to drink that Megan and I were only allowed the tiniest bit of at Christmas, but it wasn’t quite right. But this. This is it.’
Elias shook his head, smiling at her as he took a sip of his own glass of Metaxa.
‘What?’ Becky asked. ‘What’s funny?’
‘Not funny,’ he told her. ‘Incomparable, like I said before.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘You are so enthusiastic about tastes I cannot believe this is not something you have wanted to do your whole life.’
Becky sighed. ‘My whole life has been taken up reacting to other people’s situations. I haven’t had a chance to own anything. Not even my own future.’ How did that happen? How had Becky allowed that to happen? She knew with regard to It’s A Wrap it had been about protecting Megan. Megan had steamrollered into the business venture like she blustered into everything in her life – 200 per cent committed with all of the passion and none of the thinking about practicalities. Megan hadn’t asked outright for her help – that had never been Megan’s style – but Becky instinctively thought she knew it was what her sister wanted. And Becky also knew that having the two of them engaged on a joint project – albeit with Megan’s name alone on all the paperwork – their mum could relax into life in Lancashire. But what came next?
‘And now?’ Elias asked her.
‘And now I feel different… stronger,’ she admitted. ‘Coming here, it’s been so good for me. It’s shown me there’s so many sides to myself. Sides I didn’t even know I had.’ She took a breath. ‘When I get back to the UK I’m not going to be the same slightly-terrified-of-everything person who sat down next to you in Row 18.’
‘I am not going to be the same either,’ Elias breathed.
*
He had made another one of his pro/con lists early this morning. The pluses for keeping his business exactly how it was and the minuses. He had come to only one conclusion.
‘I am changing my business model,’ he told her. ‘I have acted appallingly in a number of my cases, if not all of them, and the satisfaction that I have a 100 per cent record of winning does not sit well with me anymore.’ He took another breath, stilling in the moment. ‘I made other people suffer to try to ease my own suffering and all it did was make me feel even hollower than I felt in the beginning. That isn’t the way to run a business. I may have success but… it is not a nice success.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I want to do what I do and feel happy about it. Yes, I will still want the right results for my client but… at any cost?’ He shook his head. ‘No.’
Becky threw her arms around him then, pressing her body against his. She was still damp from their swim and she smelled of the saltwater coupled with the sun lotion he had massaged into her shoulders. Then, there was another scent he recognised. His scent, the aftershave he wore, lingering on her skin because of the closeness they had shared. He held her tighter.
‘I wanted you to say that,’ Becky said. ‘Because now I feel I can tell you something I’m most definitely not supposed to. But I’m coming to the end of my stay now and I’m pretty convinced something underhand is going on so…’
‘I have no idea what you are going to say,’ Elias said as Becky sat back from him.
‘Ms O’Neill has someone coming to Villa Selino tomorrow night at 5 p.m.,’ Becky told him. ‘I think you’re right. I think there are valuables in the villa that she is hiding from her husband… your client.’
Did he want to hear this? He had told himself everything by the book from now on. Whatever the rights and wrongs of this case he wasn’t the police.
‘I think this person… this dodgy-sounding Lazarus… I think he’s going to come and take the valuables for her, or sell them for her, or do something so her husband can’t have his share of the money in the divorce.’
Elias groaned then, dropping his head to his hands. ‘This case! This fucking case! I wish I had never taken it on!’
He felt Becky put a hand on his shoulder then, palpitating the skin. What was he going to do? He raked his hands through his hair and then sat up, looking at her. ‘There are missing paintings, aren’t there?’
‘There’s a large walk-in wardrobe we can’t find keys for in one of the bedrooms,’ Becky informed. ‘Petra thinks it’s going to be an Aladdin’s cave or, you know, where they keep the cash for Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?’
‘OK,’ Elias said, his brain trying desperately to regroup.
‘And I guess you still don’t know about the cars,’ Becky carried on.
‘What cars?’
‘O-K,’ Becky said, patting his shoulder again. ‘You might need to pour a bit more of that Metaxa.’
Fifty-Four
Villa Selino
‘You can’t come in?’ Becky asked Elias. She was coiling herself around him in the garden of the villa. He had anchored up the boat and walked her up the beach, and into the villa grounds like the gentleman he was… when he wasn’t doing all the ungentlemanly things she had requested. But she didn’t want him to go. They had had such a perfect day together and she was reluctant for it to end.
‘I would like nothing more than to stay, you know that,’ he breathed, kissing her lips. ‘But we agreed. I need to speak to Chad. I need to speak to Kristina’s lawyer. I need to do this right.’
‘I know,’ Becky said. ‘But… can’t you do it right after you’ve… done all the bad things to me?’
‘The bad things?’ Elias queried.
Becky could smell the olive tree sap in the air and the fragrance of clematis, hear the insistent song of the cicadas… ‘I meant all the things that are so bad they’re so good.’ She kissed him then, hoping to make it last so long that he was completely powerless to resist her invitation to stay… It seemed she had that power with Elias.
‘What the hell is going on here?! Who are you and what are you doing? Put her down!’
Becky literally fell out of Elias’s embrace, her bum hitting the paving of the patio before she could completely come to as to what was going on.
‘For God’s sake! Why weren’t you picking up your phone?!’ Petra called, rushing into the scene. ‘I tried to warn you! I tried at least a zillion times to ring and I sent text messages that were basically longer than… than… all the Harry Potter books… including the ones about beasts and Quidditch.’
It seemed Petra had to stop and take a breath now, which was bad, because without her incessant rambling it gave Becky all the time to focus on the fact that her sister w
as standing in front of her. Megan was here.
‘Are you OK?’ Elias asked, taking Becky’s hand and helping her up from the floor.
‘No… I… yes.’ Words were failing her and the weight of Megan’s stare was searing her skin like she was pressed between the hot plates of It’s A Wrap’s toasted sandwich maker.
‘Didn’t you hear me, Becky?’ Megan continued, louder and sounding angrier than ever as she took steps towards her.
Wearing patent nude-coloured heels and a matching jumpsuit Megan usually only wore to pitches, suddenly Becky’s barely-there sundress over her swimming costume felt completely inappropriate. What was her sister doing here? How had she got on a flight to Corfu – maybe even via Athens – without Hazel or Shelley having a chance to warn her of the incoming sister missile? Becky suddenly felt unsteady on her feet again. ‘Elsa is coming’. They had warned her and she hadn’t got the code. Shelley had once named Megan after the ice queen when she’d taken the triplets to see Frozen 2. Whatever had happened at home was bad if her friends had been scared into communicating with code…
‘What are you doing?’ Megan repeated. ‘And who are these people?’
Becky watched her sister look Elias and Petra up and down like they were species from another planet who had no place on Earth.
‘I told you my name when you barged through the door. Very rude by the way,’ Petra snapped. ‘I’m Petra.’
‘And I am Elias Mardas,’ Elias interjected, offering Megan his hand. ‘It is so wonderful to meet you. Becky has told me so much about you.’
‘Has she indeed?’ Megan said, folding her arms across her chest.
Suddenly and quickly, Becky got cross. Her sister was being rude, just as Petra had said, and as shocking as Megan’s arrival was, she wasn’t going to let her strut in here and start calling the shots… was she? She swallowed. She had to be strong. She had to make Megan see that she was not going to back down just like that anymore. She had her own life and her own opinions and she wasn’t going to be forced to sing the same tune as Megan any longer. It was time her sister had a dose of the truth.
