‘The hut was locked,’ he said hoarsely, holding her close. ‘You actually climbed out through that window?’
‘With enormous difficulty, yes. I had to break it first.’ Isobel gave him a brief account of her labours, and her idea of climbing up the cliff to escape. ‘But the path was too narrow and steep, and my ankle hurt,’ she finished. ‘My wrists, too,’ she added, and Luke swore volubly as he examined them. ‘How did you know where to find me?’
‘When I was young I spent half my life on these waters.’ He hugged her closer. ‘When the photograph came through to me from my people in Athens I was mad with worry. But once I calmed down I realised I recognised the hut, even though it is many years since I worked for the old fisherman who owned it. There are probably countless others like it but, thank the gods, I was right about this one.’ His voice roughened. ‘Tell me the truth, Isobel. Did this animal hurt you?’
She shook her head, knowing he meant far more than just the marks on her wrists. ‘No. He put a cloth over my face with something like chloroform on it, and trussed me up. And in the hut he cut off some of my hair—did you receive that, by the way?’
‘Not personally,’ he said, in a tone which sent shivers down her spine. ‘I was already on my way back to Chyros after Spiro rang in a frenzy to report that you were missing.’
Isobel smiled comfortingly at Spiro as he shook his head in mute remorse. ‘The man left food and water with me, so I suppose he was going to come back at some point. Did he ask for money?’
‘Yes. I have until ten tomorrow night to pay. My people in Athens relayed the message.’ He drew in a deep, unsteady breath. ‘Spiro heard something in the night and went out into the garden to investigate, but could see nothing in the darkness. Then he heard a boat start up in the cove below and went to check on you. The doors to your room had been forced and you were gone. So was the intruder, or Spiro would have been a casualty, too,’ said Luke grimly.
‘Thank God he didn’t run into him! The man would make two of him.’ Isobel shuddered at the thought.
‘Even so, Spiro is deeply ashamed that he failed to keep you safe.’ Luke’s arms tightened. ‘So am I.’
Isobel shook her head firmly. ‘It’s no one’s fault. I’m all right. Really. Where was this place, by the way?’
‘A small, uninhabited island just a short distance to the south of Chyros. Probably chosen so he could get you there quickly without being seen.’
‘Uninhabited?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘So if, by some miracle, I had managed to climb that path up the cliff, it would have been for nothing?’
Luke nodded grimly. ‘No beach on the other side, just rocks. Old Petros was a loner and spent a lot of time there. He kept a goat or two at one time, hence the path. But fishing was his main pastime. He used to bring his catch in to Chyros to sell to the tavernas, which is how I met him. He liked me, for some reason, and gave me a job in the school holidays. I was often there on the island, sharing food with him in that hut, which is why I recognised it from the photograph.’ His arm tightened painfully. ‘Otherwise—’
‘Let’s not think of otherwise,’ said Isobel firmly, then sighed with relief as a familiar smudge appeared on the horizon. ‘Chyros!’
CHAPTER EIGHT
TO ISOBEL’S surprise, Spiro kept well out to sea instead of making for the familiar harbour. Luke smiled at her in reassurance and held a finger to his lips as he pulled the rug up to cover her head when Spiro finally steered the Athena into a narrow, steep-sided cove on the far side of Chyros. He secured the boat close to the waiting Cherokee on the jetty, and jumped out to hold the Jeep’s passenger door wide as Luke stepped on to the jetty with his tightly wrapped burden.
‘Forgive me; I must do this,’ Luke whispered as he laid Isobel on the floor between the front and back seats. ‘I cannot risk someone seeing you. Just a few minutes more, and you will be safe.’
Isobel had to concentrate hard on keeping still in her wrappings as Luke drove at breakneck pace up a steep helter-skelter of a road. She relaxed a little as the Jeep eventually stopped climbing and began to descend, and when it finally turned down the drive to the villa she heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief. The instant it came to a halt Luke plucked her out to carry her inside the house, where Eleni, hysterical with relief, hurried behind as he bore Isobel upstairs to the guest room on the upper floor.
Luke unwound the rug and set her down in the big chair in the familiar, beautiful bedroom, then stood back to look at her over Eleni’s head as the little woman knelt to grasp Isobel’s hands, pouring out remorse and apologies it was hard to understand with only one word in five in English.
‘I’m all right, honestly, Eleni,’ Isobel assured her unsteadily. ‘Just dirty and thirsty. I’d kill for some tea.’
Luke spoke kindly to the woman in her own language and she got to her feet, scrubbing her face with the corner of her apron.
‘Me synchoreite! I get tea.’
Luke turned to Spiro. ‘Be careful, ne? If someone rings or calls here, we failed to find our guest.’
Spiro nodded grimly and led his wife from the room.
‘Did the police get involved?’ asked Isobel, eyeing the dressing on Luke’s arm.
‘When Spiro rang I contacted them in Athens.’ Luke looked down at her with an intensity which made Isobel suddenly conscious of her sweat-stained clinging vest and torn leggings. ‘Now, tell me how you feel. Truthfully.’
‘As I told Eleni, I’m dirty and thirsty and my ankle hurts a bit, but I’m not too bad, all things considered.’ She held out her chafed wrists. ‘Do you have anything I can put on these after I shower?’
Luke’s mouth twisted as he raised her hands to his lips. ‘Isobel, this is all my fault. The man orchestrating this campaign thinks I will pay whatever he wants to get you back.’ He looked up into her eyes. ‘He is right. But I would give much to lay my hands on the scum who put you through this. And I cannot even call Dr Riga out to you yet for fear that word gets out that I have you.’
‘I don’t need Dr Riga,’ said Isobel firmly. ‘And you look battered enough already, so keep well away from the man who kidnapped me. He’s a big brute.’
‘Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?’ demanded Luke fiercely.
‘Yes, though when he carried me to the hut he wasn’t exactly gentle.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘And he went raving mad when he saw my hair.’
To her surprise, Luke looked uncomfortable. ‘It was the colour. He was expecting dark hair.’
‘What?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘He thought he was kidnapping someone else?’
‘Yes. A friend of mine. Granddaughter of the industrialist Denis Stratos—who received a ransom note this morning, also.’
All this had happened due to mistaken identity? Isobel felt a sudden violent urge to hit someone. ‘No wonder the man was furious. Could you ask Eleni to fetch some clothes up here for me, please? I’m utterly desperate to get clean.’
‘All your belongings are back in this room again,’ he said quickly. ‘You sleep here tonight and every other night, where I can keep you safe.’
‘But once the kidnapper’s caught it won’t matter where I sleep; I can go back to the Kalypso,’ said Isobel, though secretly she was not at all keen on the prospect after her adventure.
‘No,’ said Luke flatly. ‘Until your flight to the UK, you remain here. I have rescued you twice. A third time you might not be so lucky.’
She glared at him. ‘It was hardly my intention to trouble you, either time.’
‘I know; I put that badly—’ He broke off as Eleni came in with the tea. ‘You must drink your tea in here, not on the veranda. With a telescopic lens someone could see you.’
Wonderful. ‘Whatever you say,’ she said wearily, utterly shattered now her adrenaline rush had receded.
‘I shall leave you for a while,’ said Luke, eyeing her narrowly. ‘Are you really all right, Isobel? You look exhausted.’
‘Hardly surprising, after my labours.’ She
smiled doggedly as Eleni poured tea. ‘A cup of tea and a long hot shower and I’ll be fine.’
Once Luke had gone, Isobel sagged in the chair, tears suddenly streaming down her face, and Eleni went on her knees beside her, rocking her in her arms as she made comforting noises. But after a while the little woman pulled away, her eyes fierce as she examined the rope marks on Isobel’s wrists.
‘The pig did this?’
Isobel nodded dumbly.
‘Tell truth. That all?’
‘Yes. Nothing worse.’ Isobel gulped and scrubbed at her eyes with the tissue Eleni handed her. ‘Stupid to cry now I’m safe.’
‘Is natural! Now, drink tea, then shower. Want help?’
‘No, I can manage.’ Isobel hugged her hard. ‘Oh, God, Eleni, I was so terrified that you and Spiro had been hurt.’
At which point the woman’s English deserted her and she rocked Isobel in her arms again for a while before letting her go.
When Isobel finally stood under the spray, wincing as it caught her various scrapes and bruises, her mood was a long way short of the elation it should have been. She had expected Luke to make rather more fuss of her. They’d agreed to be friends, after all, so a comforting cuddle or two would have been nice. But once the first violence of his relief had abated he seemed to have switched off. And tonight she couldn’t even eat with him. The terrace was as public as her bedroom veranda.
Isobel had to work hard to get her damp hair in shape with a chunk of it missing at one side. Her first priority would obviously be a haircut once she got home. She smiled wryly. How wonderfully tame life would be back at the gallery. She fought down a sudden wave of homesickness at the thought of it and went to work on her face, then covered her array of bruises with a white long-sleeved shirt and soft blue cotton jeans. But went barefoot rather than subject her tender feet to shoes. And she felt vulnerable without the ankle support, which had been so filthy she’d had to bin it. When she left the bathroom Eleni was patting the pillows invitingly on the bed, but Isobel shook her head, smiling.
‘I’ll just sit in this lovely comfortable chair and read.’
It seemed like hours before Luke, with a perfunctory knock on the open door, came in carrying the crutch. He was obviously fresh from a shower, with a clean dressing on his arm.
‘You look better, Isobel,’ he said in approval. He propped the crutch at the foot of the bed and drew up a chair.
‘Cleaner, certainly. You were a very long time,’ she added, then regretted it when his eyes gleamed.
‘You missed me?’
‘I thought you might want to know more about my miraculous escape,’ she said tartly.
‘I do. Every last detail. But first I had to drive down to the boat. I took the Athena over to the harbour while Spiro drove the Cherokee back up the hill and then down to the town to meet me in full view of the public as I docked. The object,’ he added patiently, as though explaining to a child, ‘was to give the impression that you were still missing.’
She flushed. ‘Oh. I see.’
‘As soon as I docked, Alyssa came running from the taverna to demand news,’ he went on. ‘I clasped her dramatically to my chest so I could whisper in her ear that you were safe, and ordered her to keep it totally secret. Then I said very loudly that I had failed to find you.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘She began wailing and crying, and made such a scene that she collected a crowd. At this point, apparently overcome with despair at my lack of success, I joined Spiro in the Jeep and he drove me home past a sympathetic audience.’
‘Wow,’ said Isobel, impressed. ‘I wish I’d been there. Sorry I was cross,’ she added contritely.
‘It is not surprising. But you missed a wonderful performance from Alyssa. I told her not to ring the house because I need all lines open, but she will be here tomorrow, whatever happens.’ He took a tube from his pocket. ‘Give me your hands.’
She held them out for him to squeeze cream on her rope burns. ‘Thank you. That feels good.’
His eyes held hers. ‘Are there any hidden injuries that need attention?’
‘No. Just the odd scrape and bruise. And my feet are a bit tender. Nothing a night’s rest won’t put right.’
He frowned. ‘You have removed your ankle support.’
‘No choice. It was dirty.’
‘As soon as I can I will ask Dr Riga to replace it. In the meantime, take great care as you walk, Isobel.’
‘I’ll be fine now you’ve brought the crutch,’ she assured him. ‘After all, I didn’t even have that when I managed to get myself out of the hut and across the beach.’
‘Which still amazes me.’ He breathed in deeply. ‘But it is my fault that such effort was necessary. You were kidnapped not just to extort money from me, but to cause me maximum pain. My one piece of luck was the location. The kidnapper was obviously a stranger; otherwise he would have taken you somewhere more remote. Have you remembered anything else about him?’
‘No.’ She shrugged. ‘Not that I was in any condition to take much note at the time. He grunted and swore more than he actually spoke. But when he retied my hands he did it loosely enough for me to undo the knots eventually. With my teeth,’ she added in distaste. ‘It was horribly oily rope and tasted foul, but I won in the end.’
Luke looked down at the hands he was still holding. ‘Can you imagine,’ he said without expression, ‘how I felt when Spiro rang me to say you were missing?’
She thought about it. ‘Guilty, maybe, because your wealth was the motive for ransom? Also because kidnappers rarely let their victims live.’
Luke looked up, his eyes glittering. ‘All this and more flashed through my mind. I felt such despair and frustration—and sheer rage—that I burned to kill whoever had done this.’
Isobel felt suddenly a lot better. ‘Did it matter so much to you, then?’
His dark brows shot up in disbelief. ‘Can you doubt it?’
Her eyes fell as she tried to think of some kind of response.
Luke smiled crookedly and released her hands. ‘You find my feelings so hard to believe?’
‘Other than the guilt part, yes,’ she muttered. ‘I’m just a passing stranger in your life.’
‘I feel I know you very well, Isobel,’ he said softly, his eyes hot with a look that made her own fall again.
‘That’s probably because the circumstances have been so unusual.’
‘Holding your delectable body in my arms so much certainly accelerated the process,’ he agreed with relish.
‘At least you don’t have to do that any more,’ she retorted. ‘I’m mobile now.’
His eyes fastened on hers. ‘But I still want to hold you in my arms, little friend.’
Battening down a leap of response, Isobel took in a deep breath. ‘Luke, next week I’m going home. So, although I’m deeply grateful to you for saving my life—’
‘Twice!’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Even so, I’m afraid I have nothing to—to offer in return but my grateful thanks. I may be jumping the gun again, but holiday romances are just not my thing.’
Luke got to his feet, irritatingly unperturbed. ‘I will try hard to remember that, Isobel.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Rest now until Eleni brings your dinner. I shall be in the study, keeping in touch with my people in Athens. Is there anything you need?’
‘No, thank you,’ she said, subdued, and with a formal little bow he turned away.
‘Luke.’
‘Yes?’ He turned at the door.
She smiled shakily. ‘Thank you again for rescuing me. But I’m worried. What if the man makes off with the money without being caught?’
‘Then he does,’ he said, shrugging.
‘In which case I’ll owe you a lot more than mere thanks.’
‘You owe me nothing,’ he retorted, suddenly grim. ‘You were a guest in my house. I should have taken better care of you. This, in some small way, I can remedy now.’ He strode back to her and picked her up to place her against the st
acked pillows on the bed, then handed the book to her. ‘Read if you must, but sleep would be better.’
Isobel smiled her thanks, but she had a lump in her throat. Again. She had to kick this crying habit. Not her style, normally. But then, nothing quite so momentous as kidnapping had ever happened in her life before. What a tale she would have to tell when she got home.
Luke ran down to the study to check with his assistant in Athens. Andres, as usual, was concise and efficient, with news that the money was ready and would be left the following evening, packaged according to instructions, in the alley alongside the indicated kafeinion, which was already under covert surveillance by the police. There had been no communication from the kidnapper since the original statement that the goods would be returned once he had the money.
Not right, thought Luke. ‘I don’t like this, Andres. Something smells wrong. I want him caught. And I need to know who’s behind this. Someone’s after my blood, one way or another. It has to stop.’
‘I agree, kyrie. And with police help, and our own people watching, we shall catch him and make it stop.’
‘I’ll be back in the morning,’ said Luke decisively.
‘Better you are not! You would be an obvious target.’
‘All the more reason for me to return. I am the one he wants. No argument, Andres. I have to do this.’
‘Then I will cover your back, kyrie,’ said Andres promptly.
‘I was counting on that,’ Luke assured him. ‘Ari has his team ready in support?’
‘Ready and waiting. How is the lady?’
‘Doing remarkably well after her ordeal. Thanks, Andres. Keep me informed.’
The Power of the Legendary Greek Page 10
