by Anne Hampson
‘No, thank you, Julius,’ she murmured, and Gale allowed herself a most satisfied smile. Julius was the first to move; his action as he walked away surprised both girls, as it was so abrupt. Their eyes followed him as he slung the big towel over his shoulder. Daphne said, in tones soft and smooth as silk, ‘You appear to have him just where you want him. How clever! Many women would be amazed, for docility is not a natural trait of the arrogant and masterful Julius Spiridon.’ An invidious pause followed and then, ‘You’ve obviously got something I haven’t, for I could never have given him an order like that which you have just given him. But watch, my friend. Julius has never before been meek....’
Smiling in a rather smug sort of way, Gale replied, ‘Thanks for the warning — if that’s what it’s supposed to be. However, I don’t need it. Goodbye; we’ll meet again, seeing that we’re neighbours.’
Julius had stopped, and he waited until Gale joined him. Her beach robe had been left at home, as had his, and she saw his eyes wander over her lovely figure. Lifting her face to give him an arch smile as she reached him, she instantly felt the smile freeze on her lips.
‘Is anything wrong?’ she asked, remembering what Daphne had just said about her giving Julius an order. ‘You look vexed,’ she added with well-simulated perplexity.
‘Just you wait till I get you home,’ he returned smoulderingly. ‘You’ll then find out what’s wrong.’
A prickling sensation ran the length of Gale’s spine. She suddenly wished she had her clothes on.
‘I - I don’t think I understand. Have I done something to annoy you?’ Her voice was not quite steady, and certainly all her smug confidence had melted without trace. For the first time since she had met him she saw dark fury burning in his eyes, and the hand gripping the towel, a hand muscular and sensitive, was so tightly closed that the knuckle-bones seemed almost ready to break through the taut dark skin.
‘Annoy!’ Julius repeated, nostrils flaring. ‘Do you really believe you can subject me to humiliation and get away with it?’
An unpleasant tightness settled in Gale’s throat. She recalled that the only man ever to put fear into her was Julius, on that fatal morning when the burst pipe had been the instrument by which intended mischief was prevented. And now he was putting fear into her again; the knowledge created anger, but Gale prudently heeded the warning voice which was telling her to hold it in check. The wise way would be to apologize, she knew, but she found that impossible. In fact, she found it impossible to be meek, even.
‘You’re imagining things, Julius. Why should I want to subject you to humiliation?’ The question seemed to set alight the smouldering embers of his wrath and she instantly regretted voicing it.
‘You’re going to learn, my girl, that it’s fatal to give me an order—’
‘Order?’ she interrupted, striving now to dissipate his wrath because she was half afraid of going home with him in this mood. ‘Oh, no, Julius!’
He was striding on towards where the car was parked at the rear of the beach; she trotted to keep up with him.
‘I was left with the choice of humiliating you before Daphne - by putting you well and truly in your place - or agreeing to your order— Order!’ he repeated grittingly, his added surge of fury manifested in his increased speed so that Gale had actually to skip a little now and then. ‘Agreeing to your order that we go home,’ he finished when at last he was able to speak.
Gale moistened her lips. Vaguely his words about putting her in her place registered. Why hadn’t he - if he felt so strongly about the situation as he appeared to do? It would almost seem that he would suffer humiliation himself rather than have his wife put out of countenance before his ex-girl-friend. That Daphne had been his girlfriend was more than evident, proved by the words she had uttered about Gale’s having something she had not, and also by the statement that Julius had never before been meek. Daphne knew him well, obviously.
‘You’re just exaggerating,’ she began, but was instantly interrupted with,
‘We’re not having this out on the beach! I can hardly do what I want to do here!’
She swallowed moisture collecting on her tongue. The prickling sensation was there again; she felt really frightened now. What was he going to do to her?
‘Wh-what are you threatening m-me with?’ They had reached the car and Julius swung the door open with a savage gesture.
‘Get in,’ he commanded in a voice that now seemed to shake a little with the rage consuming him. Gale with a fleeting switch of memory recalled wishing several times lately that he would lose his temper, feeling it would be preferable to the cool austerity he sometimes adopted towards her when she was making herself particularly unpleasant. Well, here was her wish with a vengeance! This was in fact more than temper; it was white-hot fury. He stood beside her, waiting. So big he was, massive and towering! And Gale felt tiny in comparison. She knew an uncomfortable throbbing in her chest, and began to say she was not coming home with him, but his glance, sweeping over her scantily-clad figure, required no supplementing words to tell her of the sheer stupidity of that remark.
‘Julius—’ she began nervously, but before she could say more her arm was taken and she was roughly thrust into the front passenger seat of the car. The door slammed with unnecessary force and flinging the towel on to the back seat, Julius slid behind the wheel and within seconds the car shot forward, churning sand into a golden cloud behind it.
For a few awful moments there was silence in the car
- more than silence, thought Gale, her heartbeats increasing as the distance between beach and home lessened, it was the hush of near-exploding wrath, the unearthly still before the storm. Her glance fell to her tiny covering, then rose to the profile of her husband and something akin to sheer terror assailed her.
‘Julius,’ she said huskily, having no idea what she meant to say next. He made no answer and she was left to find something, or again lapse into silence, which she could not because it was unbearable and too frightening and it set her imagination flowing to the scene which could be enacted once her husband had her in their room, at his mercy. ‘If - if it s-sounded like an — an order,’ she continued at length, saying what she hated saying but deciding that some effort must be made to appease him before they reached their villa, ‘then I suppose I must apologize. I meant it only as a suggestion—’
Gale broke off for a moment, for his profile, so set and eagle-like, and the fingers on the car wheel, curling and uncurling in a way totally unlike their normal calm way of resting there, sent her nerves fluttering so uncomfortably that she actually felt short of breath. Those hands ... they looked as if they itched to strangle her! ‘Yes, it was only meant as a suggestion,’ she went on with a sort of breathless haste, noting they were already entering the long drive to the villa, ‘because it w-was getting l-late.’
‘You meant it as an order! - for Daphne’s benefit! She’d riled you, and that was your method of retaliation !’
For a fleeting moment caution fled. Gale’s hackles were well and truly up.
‘If your girl-friends insult me then I shall most certainly retaliate. I told her she’d have to believe we were married simply because of what she had said previously. Perhaps I insulted her, but she started it—’
‘I’m not talking about what you said to her,’ he cut in raspingly. ‘I’m talking about what you said to me, so don’t try any evasion. Let me tell you, once and for all, that to adopt the high-handed manner with me will land you in a situation which will leave you smarting for a long while - as you’re very soon going to discover.’
She went white, but contrived to say, repeating a
previous question,
‘What exactly are you threatening me with, Julius?’
At that he actually stopped the car, took her chin in his hard hand and tilted her head up and round so roughly that something seemed to go taut in her neck.
‘Any woman who thinks she can adopt that sort of attitude with me is in
for trouble. You’ve been stepping close to the mark for a while, and this time you’ve been foolish enough to go over it. Perhaps I’ve misled you, having allowed you to get away with it up till now, portraying patience which I didn’t feel. But nevertheless I have given you several warnings, hinted that you’re playing a dangerous game, and had you known me better you’d have taken in the signs before now.’ Releasing her, he started the car again. ‘You can prepare yourself for a most unpleasant few minutes,’ he added, and once again caution went by the board as Gale said she hoped he wasn’t threatening her with physical violence. At that he turned to glance at her and she heard him say, very softly now, but oh, with such deadly danger in his tones,
‘If you’re not careful you’ll smart right now,’ and, trembling visibly, Gale reached for the towel and put it over her legs. It was an automatic reaction, a compulsive act which she realized was rather silly. ‘Do you suppose that will protect you?’ he inquired in the same dangerously quiet tones.
She said nothing, merely tucking in the towel and then noticing they were already at the villa and Julius was bringing the car to a grinding halt before the front verandah. Was he intending to beat her? Opening her door with trembling fingers, she somehow managed to alight, even though her legs seemed almost to have lost their natural function of supporting her.
‘Inside,’ he ordered briefly, but although she managed to begin to obey him her footsteps flagged. With a roughly-taken grasp she was propelled towards the steps and helped in no uncertain manner up them. The towel was in her hand, trailing behind her, and Julius snatched it away and flung it over the rail.
‘Julius,’ she faltered, half turning to him, ‘I’m - I’m very s-sorry. ...’ Her voice fell to silence; there was no mercy in those hard pagan features and those black-as-basalt eyes. Here was the type of Greek one read about
- merciless when inspired by those heathen instincts inherited from ancestors who could torture and maim and kill without compunction.
‘Your apology’s come too late.’ With a final shove he had her in the sitting-room. ‘Upstairs,’ he ordered. ‘You’ve been asking for trouble since the day of our marriage, and now you’re going to get it!’
CHAPTER SEVEN
With her heart beating over-rate, Gale backed away from her irate husband who, having closed the door behind him, stood against it, allowing his wrathful eyes to run over her before coming to rest on her colourless face. A degree of satisfaction entered their dark depths as she continued to lengthen the space between her husband and herself, coming to a halt only when the backs of her legs touched the bed.
‘So you’re afraid at last, are you?’ The voice was quiet, but vibrating with fury that possessed him at the humiliation Gale had caused him. ‘Come here,’ he ordered, and pointed to a spot on the carpet which Gale looked at while remaining where she was.
‘If you s-so m-much as lay a finger on me—’ The words came to a choking halt as with three or four determined strides her husband reached her and she felt the force of his anger manifested in the ruthless grip of his hands on her bare arms.
‘What are you threatening?’ His face came close to hers; she could hear his sharpened breathing ... a sign that his fury was still on the increase. ‘Well? Answer me!’
She tried to swallow the ball of fear in her throat;
Julius shook her and repeated his question.
‘I don’t know what your intention is, but—’
‘Don’t you!’ Julius shook her with such violence that she felt her senses reeling and it did seem for one moment that she would completely lose consciousness, for even her mind was clouded over by her fear. If only he weren’t so massive, and so strong, he might have made some attempt to free herself. ‘So it hasn’t entered your head that I might give you a damned good hiding?’ The colour rushed to her face, and even though the idea had occurred to her, out there in the car, which he had brought to such a violent halt, she flashed the threat at him that he had better not use violence, as she would go straight to the police. To her amazement he merely laughed harshly and reminded her that in Greece the husband was supreme master and if she was foolish enough to carry out her threat she would promptly be told to go back to her husband. She stared for a second in disbelief and then, her own anger rising above her fear, she endeavoured furiously to free herself from his vicious hold. It proved to be a futile attempt, and an exceedingly painful one, and she cried out in the end as, after his grip had tightened excruciatingly, he shook her again and again until at last the storm of his fury had abated.
‘And now,’ he said on releasing her, ‘perhaps you’ll think twice before allowing your tongue - and your temper-to run away with you again!’
The door closed, with unexpected quietness, the door between the two bedrooms. Gale stared at it, dazed still and bruised. Never had she visualized anyone being so inflamed as was Julius during that terrible few minutes through which she had passed. On entering the house she had known the instinct to call Kate, then restrained it, as it crossed her mind that the Greek servants were all inveterate gossipers, and the last thing Gale wanted was for Daphne to become possessed of the information that Gale’s cleverness had brought down Julius’s wrath upon her head.
‘Be down for lunch in half an hour!’ Julius’s final
order as he passed from her room into his still rang in
Gale’s ears. She would not go down! She wasn’t in a fit state to sit there, trying to assume a dignified manner, while Apollo and Kate waited on the table. Their eyes were keen, and Gale’s face was swollen slightly, from the tears she had shed, and which fell now, the result of nervous reaction.
She washed and got dressed, then combed her hair. Julius was moving about in his room and she tapped lightly on his door.
‘Come in.’
‘I’m not feeling like lunch,’ she told him without hesitation on seeing the slight inquiring lift of one eyebrow. Her eyes were still filmed with tears; all fight had been shaken out of her, but even now she was loath to let him see just how complete his victory had been, hence the rebellious glance she shot at him.
His basalt eyes narrowed to mere slits.
‘Do you want some more?’ he questioned softly.
She went red as fury rose, but dared not tempt him by defiance, for of a surety he would subject her to further discomfort should she not take care. Naturally making no answer, she backed into her room and quietly closed the door. Then the tears flowed freely once more. How had she got herself into a mess like this? Catching sight of her face in the mirror, she saw how white and drawn it was. Why had she married him .. .? Nothing to be gained by pretence regarding that. Yet hadn’t she branded him ruthless and formidable, declaring that any woman who married him would require help from heaven? And after that she herself had married him, having fallen victim to his inescapable charm ... his physical attraction that drew like a magnet, drew in such a way that even now she could not contemplate life without his lovemaking. Flushing with the shame of this admission, Gale went into the bathroom and bathed her eyes, trying the erase the evidence of her tears.
Julius was on the verandah when she entered the dining-room. He flicked a hand negligently, indicating a chair opposite the wicker couch on which he himself sat, and she made no hesitation but went through the French window and took the possession of the chair. She met his eyes as they lingered with faint mockery on her face, all his anger now dissolved, replaced by the more familiar languid manner of easy assurance and slight aloofness. Gale folded her hands together in her lap, determinedly concentrating on the lovely garden with its masses of exotic flowers whose perfume floated on to the verandah and would invade the dining-room, carried in by the meltemi - wind of the islands. Tangerine trees grew side by side with the delicately-flowered jacarandas; magnolias filled the air with their scent. Hibiscus of several colours grew among oleanders and other shrubs, and in glorious profusion the creepers scrambled over walls and invaded terraces, mingling with the trellised
vines planted especially for shade. The passion flowers with their pinky blue and mauve stars were among the most beautiful of these climbers, but there was also the spiny bougainvillea whose lovely red and orange and plummy purple flowers smothered large areas of the villa walls.
‘So you decided it was more prudent to obey me,’ observed Julius at last, and Gale turned her head, two spots of colour appearing in her cheeks at his use of the word obey. It was hardly necessary, but she guessed he enjoyed using it at this present time, after what had just happened, up there, in the bedroom. ‘It’s as well, Gale. Had you provoked me further I’d have given you something you would really remember.’
Something really to remember! Did he suppose she would ever forget what he had done to her? On the contrary, it would be with her all her life, and Gale swore she would never forgive him for it. His gaze had moved from her to the garden and the olive slopes sweeping down to the beach beyond which the glimmering turquoise sea spread in lazy tranquillity towards the misted, dark rim of the horizon. Gale watched him in profile, and even now his
attractiveness stimulated her senses in a way that thrilled while it angered. He was so very distinguished, with that aquiline nose, the finely-cut features, the aloof bearing and arrogance ... and that iron-grey hair, which was thick and wavy, with its paler streaks resting against his brown temples.
Sensing her watchful eyes upon him, Julius turned his head and looked at her, disconcerting her by the sudden expression of satirical inquiry created by the widening of those incredibly dark eyes, and the slanting of an eyebrow. She tried to speak, but could find nothing to say. In any case, her husband’s eyes were now moving from one bare arm to the other and ... was it her imagination, or had that expression become slightly clouded? There certainly was no mistaking the frown line which appeared between his eyes. Deliberately she touched one tender bruise, fingering it lightly, and hoping the action would produce within him a feeling of selfblame. But instantly on noting his changing expression she admitted she had made a mistake. With keen perception he knew what she was about and a slight curve of his mouth portrayed amused contempt which was her sole reward for endeavouring to make him feel ashamed of himself.
