Dark Avenger

by Alex Ryder

  ‘Thanks to me?’ Her blue eyes questioned him. As far as she was concerned it had been the other way around. If it hadn’t been for the risks he’d taken and his superhuman efforts with the damaged steering neither of them would be here.

  ‘When I went out on deck to tie the tarpaulin over the hold you fought like a devil to keep the Miranda on an even keel. If you’d allowed the boat to roll I’d undoubtedly have been swept over the side.’ His brows were drawn together and his eyes were demanding an answer. ‘That was your chance to get rid of me, Carrie. Why didn’t you take it? No one would ever have known that it was anything other than an accident.’

  The question rocked her and she stared at him in incredulity. ‘Are you actually asking me why I didn’t…didn’t kill you?’

  He shrugged. ‘Why not? I’ve given you no cause to like me. Quite the opposite, in fact.’

  My God, she thought! He was serious! What kind of person did he think she was? She found her voice at last. ‘Well,’ she said, stiff with indignation, ‘if you think I’m capable of a thing like that you’re an abysmal judge of character. Perhaps the Spirakis family live by the law of the jungle but where I come from people have risen above that kind of thing.’

  His studied her with that familiar dark frown then he sighed. ‘I can see that you’re genuinely offended. Please accept my apologies. When one is constantly surrounded by enemies one almost constantly expects the worst.’

  ‘I’m not surprised you’re surrounded by enemies,’ she muttered. ‘You don’t exactly go out of your way to be pleasant, do you?’

  His eyes glinted dangerously. ‘I’m trying to be pleasant at the moment, Carrie. Don’t make it too hard for me.’

  Oh, God forbid, she thought drily. Don’t make things too hard for him? That had to be the joke of the month, surely. ‘All right.’ She sighed. ‘I accept your apology. Now let’s talk no more about it.’

  He leaned a little closer. ‘Thank you, Carrie. But the fact remains that you saved my life and I can’t dismiss a thing like that lightly. I feel honour-bound to reward you in some way.’

  She eyed him warily. ‘Reward? I don’t want any reward from you unless it’s a promise to let my brother go.’

  He moved even closer. ‘We’ll talk about that later. For the time being perhaps you’d be good enough to accept a kiss as a token of my gratitude?’

  ‘A kiss?’ Her mouth was suddenly dry. ‘You… you want to kiss me?’

  ‘Just as a token of my gratitude,’ he repeated softly.

  His face was very close to hers now. So close that she felt herself being drawn into and sucked under by those deep green eyes. ‘Go…go on, then,’ she stammered. ‘If that’s what you really want.’

  His hand came up and gently touched the smooth skin of her cheek. ‘I think it’s what we both want, Carrie,’ he whispered.

  He was so close now that their thighs were touching, then, still caressing her cheek with one hand, he placed his lips lightly on hers. For a moment his mouth remained still, the pressure hardly felt, then his other hand came up to cup her other cheek. Holding her head perfectly still between his hands, he moved his lips lightly over hers, side to side, in a slow, sensual rhythm that both teased and tormented. She began to tremble and instinctively she gripped his shoulders for support.

  Now he increased the pressure and her heart began a demented pounding in her ears. Deep within the dim recesses of her soul the familiar dark demon was coming awake and stirring her blood, heating it and sending it rushing through her system. Her lips parted at the first touch of his tongue and she lost herself in the sweet sensation as it entered and explored its willing receptacle.

  Her heart gave an extra thud as his arms went around her and pulled her down. Then he was half on top of her, his weight pinning her helplessly to the blanket. His tongue ceased wreaking its havoc in her mouth and he looked into the depths of her eyes. ‘I want to make love to you, Carrie.’

  She tried to speak. She tried again then gave up and managed a weak nod.

  ‘If you resist I’ll stop.’ His lips brushed against her eyelids and his breath was warm and sweet on her cheek. ‘I promised not to take you by force and I won’t.’

  She didn’t even attempt to speak this time. In desperation her hands entwined themselves behind his neck and she pulled his mouth once more towards hers in a wanton greed that was utterly new and almost frightening in its intensity. It was a greed, however, that demanded more than his mouth, and her fingers raked down his back in a blind craving that was suddenly arrested by his stifled gasp of pain.

  Oh, God! The abrasions on his back! She’d forgotten all about them in her blinding desire. ‘Nikos…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,’ she whispered in a voice of tortured guilt.

  He eased himself off her and her heart plummeted. He didn’t believe her! He thought she’d done it deliberately.

  ‘Please, Nikos,’ she begged. ‘It was an accident. I didn’t mean…It was an accident. I forgot…’ Her voice trailed off as he suddenly kneeled astride her and pressed his finger to her lips.

  ‘I know you didn’t mean to,’ he assured her gently. ‘Let’s just say that you were carried away by your passion. Your punishment is to lie perfectly still for the next five minutes. Are you capable of doing it, my little tigress with claws?’

  She gazed up into his fathomless eyes, searching the hidden depths for some hint of his intentions, then she nodded in dumb acquiescence.

  ‘Good.’ He laid his hands on her waist and slid them under her T-shirt. ‘So much beauty shouldn’t be hidden from view, Carrie.’ She could feel him raising her T-shirt and gently easing it over her upthrust breasts. At his soft command she obediently raised her arms and a moment later the garment was off and cast aside. With no prompting she arced her back and allowed him to unfasten her bra and when that also was cast aside she lay naked from the waist up, shamelessly basking in his gaze of wonder and admiration. A feeble voice from her conscience condemned her outrageous conduct but stronger emotions shouted it down and told it to mind its own business.

  Almost reverentially he laid a hand on each of her breasts, feeling the firmness and the already gorged nipples, dark brown against her creamy skin. ‘Aphrodite!’ he murmured. ‘Truly the body of a goddess.’

  Moving backwards, he slowly unzipped her jeans and slid them down over her hips and her long, tapering legs. Wearing nothing now but her wispy briefs, she closed her eyes and trembled with a delicious anticipation as that final article was removed. She opened them in time to watch as he undressed himself then her arms reached upwards to pull him down beside her. As their mouths met again in moist collision she felt the hardness of his body against her own yielding flesh and the contact sent shivers of desire through her limbs.

  Finally his mouth, like some beloved vandal, left hers and traced a path down to her throat to goad the wildly fluttering pulse, then it continued down, leaving a trail of scorched and battered nerveendings, until it found its ultimate destination, pounced and voraciously plundered her nipple. Her fingers convulsively curled themselves in his dark hair and a groan of sensual pleasure escaped her swollen lips.

  Her flesh quivered as his right hand began a tender exploration over the contours of her stomach and hips then she moaned again as it gently parted her thighs and slid upwards to claim its prize.

  She could hear the breath rasping harsh and urgent in his throat as he rolled on top of her. His left hand slid under her buttocks to raise her up and she curled her lower lip between her teeth to stifle the cry as he thrust himself into her. For a moment he lay still and she felt crushed by his weight until he raised himself and used his forearms as support. Afraid to hurt his back again, she held him firmly by the hair as if afraid that he’d get up and leave her lying there, a gasping, shuddering wreck of cheated passion.

  He stared down at her, his green eyes alight with the fire of some inner storm, then he began moving. The slow and rhythmic thrusting evoked a primitive resp
onse in her own body and it aided and abetted this welcome invasion with a rhythm of its own.

  Waves of voluptuous pleasure rippled through her body, driving everything before them. Neither time nor space existed. Nothing but this feeling mattered. His thrusts became quicker, as did her responses, raising her to a fevered pitch of frenzy that nothing had ever prepared her for. Then at the last possible moment she heard him groan and felt him shudder and her loins convulsed in a silent explosion of sheer ecstasy and fulfilment.

  She clung to his hair until the paroxysm slowly subsided then her arms fell uselessly by her sides and she let out one final long sigh of spent passion.

  He kissed her eyelids then her mouth and whispered, ‘Did I please you?’

  She raised her hand and ran her fingers over his lips. ‘What kind of stupid question is that?’ she breathed. ‘Couldn’t you tell?’

  He nibbled at her fingertips then murmured, ‘The next time will be better. I won’t be so impatient.’

  She looked up into those glowing green eyes and for the sake of decency assumed a slightly scandalised frown. ‘The next time? What makes you think there will be a next time?’

  He laughed softly. ‘Why should I think there won’t?’ He rolled on to his side, propped himself up on one elbow and surveyed the length of her body like a man admiring a newly acquired possession. ‘I’ve decided that we’ll stay here tomorrow. We’ll go ashore and explore the island then later we’ll light a fire on the beach and have sex again.’

  Have sex? That sounded far too cold and businesslike for her. Why hadn’t he said ‘make love’? This time her frown was genuine but her doubts were swept aside as he leaned down and kissed her once more.

  At some time during the evening he went below and returned with more wine, an extra blanket and two pillows. She was lying just as he’d left her and she pointed a finger towards the stars and suppressed a giggle. ‘There are satellites up there. They use infra-red to see in the dark and here are the pair of us as naked as the day we were born. For all we know we might be on a big TV screen in Houston or Moscow.’

  He chuckled at the idea. ‘As long as it stops them launching rockets at one another.’

  Impishly she waved her hand at the sky. ‘It gives a whole new meaning to the slogan about making love not war, doesn’t it?’

  He sat down and poured the wine.

  They talked a lot—at least she did. The wine was probably responsible for that and she didn’t need much prompting to tell him about her life in England before she’d decided to live permanently in Greece. He seemed especially interested in her father and the way he’d just thrown away a life of dull security to follow a dream.

  ‘He did the right thing,’ Nikos asserted gravely. ‘A man has only one life. He shouldn’t waste it.’

  She nodded vigorously. ‘That’s just what Dad used to say. Never be afraid of tomorrow because tomorrow will be yesterday the day after…I mean…today is the tomorrow you were worried about yesterday. Something like that.’

  ‘I know what he meant,’ Nikos said drily. He took the glass from her hand. ‘I think you’ve had enough wine.’

  A pleasant drowsiness was stealing over her and she looked at him through heavy, halfclosed lids. ‘I think you’re right. But I’m not drunk. Just a little…tired. You don’t mind if I have a little nap, do you?’

  ‘I think we both need some sleep,’ he yawned.

  ‘Yes.’ She lay down with her head on the pillow and reached up for him lazily. ‘Nikos? Do you want to know something really crazy?’

  He lay down beside her. ‘What might that be?’

  ‘I like you,’ she murmured. ‘I shouldn’t but I can’t help it.’

  ‘Hmm. I was right—you have had too much to drink. Now turn over and go to sleep.’

  She awoke once during the night. His arm lay lightly across her breast and his breathing was deep and even. For a while she was content to lie on her back gazing at the stars and listening to the gentle lapping of the waves, then her hand touched Nikos’s bare thigh. He sighed in his sleep and for a moment she felt an overpowering urge to move her hand and arouse him so that once more she could experience that special kind of heaven only he could provide. Her hand crept across his hip then she hesitated. Perhaps it would be better just to let him sleep on, she thought dreamily. He might not be able to. Not so soon after. She wished she knew more about men. Anyway, there was no point in taking a chance. It might just make him angry. She could wait until tomorrow. She smiled in the darkness. Good God, she was turning into a right little wench, wasn’t she? Well, so what? Apart from the brief episode with that rat Victor she’d lived a pretty blameless life up till now. She was entitled to break out now and again. After all, she was only human like everyone else, she told herself.

  The sun was up when she next awoke. She sat up and immediately clutched her head in both hands, ‘Ohhhh….’

  ‘Feeling rough?’

  She squinted through her eyes and saw the tall silhouette by the rail. ‘A little,’ she muttered. ‘It must be what they call a hangover.’

  ‘I know a good cure for that.’

  ‘Coffee and a couple of aspirins will do fine. I’ll be right as rain in half an hour.’

  Suddenly his shadow fell across her and he scooped her up into her arms. ‘This cure is guaranteed instantaneous.’

  The intimate contact and warmth of his body brought a surprised smile to her face. ‘Nikos! What are you—?’ Her question turned into a squeal as he took two swift steps across the deck, then leapt over the rail into the sea.

  The initial shock took her breath away and she struggled to the surface spluttering and gasping. ‘You…you great baboon. What do you think you’re—?’ Her indignant outburst was cut short as he wrapped his arms around her and clamped his mouth over hers.

  Stuck together like two limpets, they sank below the surface feet first, then when her chest was ready to burst he released her and she shot up to gulp in great lungfuls of air. A moment later he bobbed up beside her, his dark hair plastered over his forehead and his eyes full of wicked mischief.

  ‘How’s the headache now?’

  Her breath was getting back to normal and although the water was comfortably warm she looked at him resentfully. ‘I’d rather have had the coffee and aspirin.’

  Still treading water, he pulled her close to his body and grinned. ‘This cure is more fun.’

  Their lips met again and she felt his hands reach down to clasp her buttocks. She could also feel something else and her eyes widened. ‘Nikos! We can’t! Not here. We’ll drown!’

  She felt herself being lifted and he gave another grin. ‘No, we won’t. Just keep moving your arms.’

  Gasping, she wrapped her legs around him and began beating furiously at the water.

  Afterwards they swam to the beach and she lay exhausted on the sand. When her nerves had at last settled down she turned on her side and poked him in the ribs. ‘You’re incredible. I suppose that was your idea of hydrotherapy.’

  ‘Well, I told you it was better than aspirin,’ he murmured lazily. ‘You didn’t drown after all and I’ll bet your headache is gone.’

  He was lying on his back with his hands clasped behind his head and his eyes closed. She poked him in the ribs again. ‘You must have done that before.’

  His lips twitched in an enigmatic smile and she felt an irrational twinge of jealousy. How many women had he made love to? she wondered. Fifty? A hundred? Or had he lost count entirely? And how did he rate her on a scale of one to ten? Minus two? He was probably used to more experienced women. The really hot-blooded, sultry Latin type with dark flashing eyes and seductive smiles.

  His voice broke into her thoughts. ‘I always thought of Englishwomen as being cold and unemotional until I met you, Carrie. You’ve made me change my opinion.’

  She stared at him in embarrassed silence. He’d been reading her mind! Well, that shouldn’t surprise her. One look at those eyes of his and you could te
ll he was related to the prince of darkness. At least he’d answered her question—yet she wasn’t quite sure whether she should treat it as a compliment or not. What was he really trying to say? Had she been too…easy for his liking? Was he disappointed at her lack of resistance? Perhaps he was the kind of man who despised meek surrender because it robbed him of the feeling of ‘conquest’. Never mind that he’d blackmailed her into it in the first place. That probably hadn’t even occurred to him.

  Unwilling to delve any deeper into the quagmire of motivation and analysis, she got to her feet hastily. ‘I’m hungry. I’ll fix some breakfast and give you a call when it’s ready.’ She waded out into the water and began swimming towards the Miranda.

  After breakfast they loaded the dinghy then returned to the beach and began a slow exploration of the island. Climbing to the highest point, they could see nothing but acres of stunted scrub and wild herbs. The soil was thin and poor and Nikos ran it through his fingers then remarked drily that he wasn’t surprised that the place was deserted. It was fit for nothing but goats.

  ‘I like it,’ she said obstinately. ‘I think it’s quite beautiful, in fact. It’s just the way God made it and no one has come here to despoil it.’

  ‘You regard well tended orchards, fields and olive groves as despoilation, do you?’

  She looked into his mocking eyes and retorted defiantly, ‘I find them boring.’

  ‘I doubt if the starving millions of this world would share your sentiment.’ He laughed at her obvious discomfort. ‘That’s the difference between you and me, Carrie. You’re an idealist, I’m a realist. I know what has to be done and I do it.’

  She clamped her mouth shut and kept it firmly shut until they arrived back at the beach. He immediately began searching for wood and when he’d found a suitable length he began sharpening the point. For a while she just sat watching him then her curiosity got the better of her. ‘What’s that for?’