Petra gripped the stem of the glass „ between nervous fingers, confounded by the stroke of his warm breath against her brow, startled by his swift fluidity of movement when he swooped to sit down beside her, close enough to offer one broad shoulder as a backrest. Mesmerised by dark eyes glinting a command to drink, she lifted the glass to her lips and gulped down half its contents, then gasped when the spirit began blazing a fiery orange trail down her throat, then throughout her entire body, reaching every curled-up toe and tingling fingertip.
Hastily she set down the glass, eyeing it with the distaste she would have shown some shocking ritual vessel. But damage had already been imposed upon her senses by liqueur that blended the taste of bitter oranges with the sweetness of honey.
'Potent drinks should always be sipped,' Stelios protested on a note of laughter. 'Because of the speed with which you disposed of that, elika, I suspect that you will shortly be feeling as if you have been given the wings necessary to fly out of your cloister!'
'You should have warned me!' she coughed, then swallowed hard, trying to rid her throat of the molten liqueur.
'I do wish to warn you. Or perhaps caution would be a better choice of word.' The plethora of moods that had plagued him all evening—a gamut ranging from light amusement to deep cynicism that had led her to wonder whether it was possible for a man elected to lead; for a man used to making and acting upon instant decisions, to be troubled by uncertainty—seemed to have settled upon a final choice of grim resignation.
'You squander so much of your love and devotion, elika, it would not be fair of me to offer you a choice of action without stressing the need for a cautious answer. But then,' he smiled thinly, 'perhaps such a dedicated martyr as yourself will consider that she has been given no choice at all! Though our acquaintanceship is of such short duration, I am convinced that you are likely to agree with the meekness of a lamb to being sacrificed on the altar of sisterly love.'
Her fearful eyes fastened upon his sombre features, but she remained still and silent, chilled by a certainty that he was leading up to some ultimatum concerning Gavin. She waited, mentally urging him to continue, anxious for the situation to be clarified even though she nurtured no hope of compassion from the horned god in situ. But although he must have sensed her agony of mind, he took time to pick a peanut from a dish and crunch it to extinction between his teeth before subjecting her to further verbal prowling.
'Here in Cyprus, there have been many occasions in the past when young men caught breaking the law have opted for "instant justice"—that is, to stand trial by a jury made up of local villagers rather than risk the penalties handed out by an authorised court of law. Usually, the culprits were punished by village chiefs ordering each offender to work for so many weeks in the fields—or months, according to the seriousness of the crime. That way, honour was satisfied all round and the young man's family was saved the ordeal of having shame publicly branded upon its name.'
Petra relaxed, resisting an urge to sag with relief when his meaning became clear. A ghost of a smile drifted around her mouth as inwardly she scolded an over-active imagination that had led her to suspect the presence of some bizarre motive behind his carefully chosen words.
'Are you telling me in a roundabout way that you've decided to submit Gavin to a court of instant justice?' Starry-eyed, she relaxed against cushions clustered into a brilliant halo around her pale features. 'Why didn't you come straight to the point,' she laughed shakily, 'instead of meandering around the subject as if you considered such an idea unacceptable? I think it's a perfect solution,' she sparkled: 'Gavin is certain to consider tackling tasks around the village infinitely preferable to languishing in prison for an indefinite period!'
She leant forward to urge: 'How soon can he be released? Tomorrow? The day after, perhaps…?'
'Perhaps.' Much to her surprise she saw no change in his grim demeanour. If anything, his jawline looked even tighter, his expression a shade more austere. 'The date of your brother's release is dependent upon the time taken by ourselves to reach an agreement,' he told her, holding her eyes on a direct course. 'After a great deal of argument, I have managed to persuade the police to release your brother into my custody and to leave charges against him in abeyance pending my report, which is to be made at my own discretion, regarding his attitude towards authority and his behaviour in general. If my report should turn out to be favourable, then all charges will be permanently dropped and your brother will be free to leave Cyprus without a stain on his character. If, however, he should not turn out to be as responsible and incorruptible as you claim, then I shall not hesitate to hand him back to the police with a recommendation that criminal proceedings should be allowed to run their normal course. I need hardly point out,' he concluded grimly, 'that such a recommendation would almost certainly be regarded as an indictment of instability.'
'But that's wonderful!' Petra cried out in delight, confident that Gavin would be prepared to cooperate with the first stipulation, thereby cancelling out the last. 'Oh, Minister—Stelios…!' she amended with an embarrassed blush, 'I can't tell you how grateful I am, how happy you've made me…' she faltered, beaming appreciation with eyes of liquid blue. But when his eyes remained guarded and his mouth took on a sharp sabre's edge she felt a stirring of misgiving.
'There's just one more condition which requires careful consideration,' he clamped, chilling her slender frame into alert stillness. 'In an effort to talk the police authorities around to my way of thinking, I was forced to make a rather drastic statement…'
She offered no resistance when he reached out to cup her tightly clenched hands between his palms. 'I need a wife, elika,' his voice lowered to a soft, persuasive murmur that turned her bones to water. 'For too long I have turned a deaf ear to the voice of conscience urging me to settle down, to accept the bondage of domesticity and all its attendant drawbacks in order to ensure the continuity of my family name. The choice of marriage in exchange for a son is what I'm offering, sweet Petra! A marriage that calls for little sacrifice from a girl who lacks money, who is badly in need of a protector and a home filled with children of her own.'
She was too shocked to respond other than with a wide-eyed stare teeming with emotions she was incapable of putting into words—an entreaty to confess that some satyr of cruel humour had prompted him to make her the butt of an illogical joke; a plea for his assurance that there had been no steely threat linking his chain of words.
She shuddered from his touch when lightly he stroked an encouraging hand across her cheek before tipping up her chin with a forceful finger.
'I cannot reward your honest virtue with deceit,' he murmured throatily, unaware that his words were grating upon her tender conscience. 'At the moment, there is no special woman in my life—but tomorrow,' he shrugged, 'next week, or next month, there almost certainly will be.'
Surprisingly, the casual admission jarred out of her a breathless protest. 'Then why don't you marry one of your attractive harem?'
'Because I subscribe to the doctrine of men of the East who maintain that one woman can never be enough, that it is a man's right to be able to choose his companion according to his mood.'
Petra hissed in an angry breath, then before spirit had time to desert her condemned his audacity.
'I love my brother dearly. Yet even though love is said to have drawn women towards many things—towards violence, towards madness, even towards death—it will never be allowed to draw me into such a disastrous marriage!'
He recoiled sharply, obviously amazed by her shocking ingratitude.
'If that is how you view the prospect of marriage to me then obviously we need waste no further time in discussion.' He stood up, drawing himself tall with enormous dignity. 'Unfortunately for your brother, I now feel you have left me no option but to inform the police that they must deal with him as they see fit, now that the cancellation of our wedding has rid me of any obligation to accept responsibility for the actions of a reckless, foolhard
y, totally irresponsible brother-in-law!'
CHAPTER SEVEN
'Gavin!' Petra almost stumbled down the steps of the castle in her haste to reach her wan-faced, shaken-looking brothel who was easing himself out of the passenger seat of Stelios's car. 'How are you?' She hugged him, laughing and crying at the same time. 'Did they treat you all right? Darling, you've lost weight…!'
All the heartache and worry of the past few days faded into insignificance as her eyes devoured his pale features, and his rakish young frame trembled within the circle of her arms.
'I've not yet recovered from the shock of being released into the custody of my future brother-in-law!' He slewed a glance that was far from friendly towards Stelios who was standing a few yards away, regarding their rapturous reunion with a look of amused tolerance. 'It simply isn't your style to act on impulse, Petra,' he condemned in a low-pitched mutter. 'You've been on the island less than a couple of weeks, yet I've just been informed that tomorrow you intend marrying that damned arrogant Greek!'
Her heart sank at the note of petulance in his tone. Gavin had always adopted an aggrieved stance whenever any of her actions had displeased him. Obviously, he was far from overjoyed at the prospect of having to share her affections with any other man—and especially not with a husband who would be entitled to first call upon her loyalty. Though every instinct was urging her to assure him that he had not been relegated to second place in her affections, that far from being in love with her, Stelios Heracles was merely exchanging one prisoner for another, the close proximity of dark, watchful eyes forced her to limit her response to a reproachful shake and an artificially bright suggestion.
'I've so many things to ask you. Let's go up to my room where we can talk in private.'
'I'm sorry, elika,' her future husband strolled forward to make his dreaded presence felt, 'much as I regret the intrusion, I feel bound to remind you of the many arrangements waiting to be finalised before tomorrow's wedding.' Displaying a mockery that only she could see glinting beneath a screen of thick, dark lashes, Stelios slid an arm around her waist and drew her close against his side as if determined to demonstrate complete possession. When his head bent towards her she was not prepared for his swift kiss, a swooping assault upon her startled mouth that began as a stamp of ownership, then lingered, curiously and gently exploring until he had located the one quivering nerve that refused to be stilled. It was a ruthless attack, found bearable only because she was becoming accustomed to his cruelty, but its effect upon Gavin was obvious when he rounded upon Stelios to snarl:
'When you have had time to get to know my sister as well as a man should know his prospective bride, you will learn how strongly she detests being mauled!'
Petra went very still within the circle of Stelios's arm, feeling the angry jump of a muscle as he tightened his hold upon her waist. She wanted to plead with Gavin not to be difficult, to attempt some pretence of harmony with the man who possessed the power to make them dance, jump or bend a knee simply by pulling the appropriate strings, but when she felt herself caught in a crossfire of looks exchanging mutual dislike she knew that the warning, if spoken, would have come much too late.
She tensed, waiting for Stelios's axe of displeasure to fall upon her brother's head, but instead was forced to watch him squirm, made to feel gauche and ill-mannered by a politely drawled pleasantry.
'Thank you, I shall not forget that remark.' The evenness of Stelios's tone contrasted menacingly with the piercing look he directed towards Gavin. 'You and I must also become better acquainted. Perhaps I could introduce you to the art of fencing, my favourite hobby? Nothing gives me more pleasure than trying out a newly-tempered blade, testing its steel to breaking point until I am convinced that the metal has been sufficiently heated to render it flexible; sufficiently cooled to ensure that it will not snap under pressure.'
Petra's heart sank as she recognised what was almost a declaration of war between the two men—one an untempered youth whose blade of emotions lacked the hone of experience on its blunt edges, the other a well tried lance of steel with pointed sting and barbs which she knew from personal experience could be penetrating, painful, and often deadly.
All her protective instincts reared against the threat cloaked in civility Stelios had directed towards her brother who was still suffering the effects of rough Greek justice. Tomorrow, once marriage vows had been exchanged, she would be honour bound to side with her husband. Today, however, her first duty was towards her weary, despondent-looking brother who felt his freedom had been gained at the cost of an unfailingly supportive sister.
'I'm sorry, Stelios, but Gavin's needs must come first.' Her rebellious decision seemed to take him completely off guard. Taking full advantage of her surprise initiative, she twisted out of his grasp and ran to fling a protective arm around her brother. 'After all,' she dared to mock sweetly across a dividing yard of no-man's-land, 'a bride is entitled to expect the support of a happy, well rested relative at her wedding. I know, Stelios darling, that while I'm seeing to my brother's comfort you can be relied upon to resolve any last-minute problems with your usual flair and efficiency!'
She tugged at Gavin's arm. 'Come with me, dear,' she urged, panicked into retreat by dark eyes smouldering a warning of angry retribution. 'First, you must have a warm, relaxing bath, then, if you feel up to it, we'll have a quiet lunch together in my room.'
'That sounds marvellous, Sis!' Gavin's downcast mouth widened into a grin, but instead of responding to the pressure of hands urging him to flee he stood his ground just long enough to cast a glint of triumph towards the gaoler whose custody he so obviously resented. 'It will be like old times,' he tilted defiantly, 'with just the two of us together. As Father often used to say, the company of a dumb animal is preferable to that of a man whose outlook one finds completely alien!'
Expecting a furious outburst from the volatile Greek, Petra hurried Gavin up the steps of the castle, pausing on the threshold just long enough to cast a furtive glance across her shoulder towards the man standing rigid as a Colossus— and projecting the same presence of petrified power.
She was shaking with reaction when they reached her room, so fraught with nervous tension that Gavin's loud chortle of satisfaction set her teeth on edge.
'That brief contretemps should serve to set the record straight,' he crowed, collapsing into the nearest comfortable chair. 'Who does the guy think he is—some resurrected Olympian god possessing the divine right to boss mere mortals around and to subject you to the sort of discipline imposed upon Vestal Virgins! You may have decided to knuckle under, meek sister, to have agreed for some unaccountable reason to allow him to become your keeper, but I have not and most certainly never will! At the first opportune moment I mean to escape from this medieval fortress, and if you have any sense at all you'll come with me.'
Suddenly Petra's sorely tried patience snapped. As much to her own surprise as to his, she rounded upon his lounging figure with eyes sparkling ice-blue fury.
'When are you going to grow up?' she demanded furiously. 'Have you learnt nothing at all from your spell in goal? Stelios has gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange your release, yet instead of showing gratitude for his kindness you've adopted an attitude of truculence, demonstrated contempt of his authority in the most stupid and ill-mannered way! Surely you realise the importance of impressing him with your willingness to co-operate? You must obey his orders, or else run the risk of being returned to goal!' She stamped her foot in an orgy of frustration. 'Without your passport you can't leave the island, so there's no place to run where Stelios won't find you.'
'There's Grandfather's house,' he reminded her sulkily, looking very much like a spoilt child whose most ardent admirer has suddenly deserted him.
'Yes, there is,' she nodded agreement, exerting great control upon her peculiarly threshing emotions, 'and you would be safe there, because Stelios is completely unaware of Grandfather's existence.'
'You mean you haven't invited
him to your wedding?' For the first time ever she suspected the presence of a speculative gleam in eyes she had always considered candid.
She nodded. 'I've kept our visit to the island a secret from him,' she admitted sadly. 'Patera Romios is too old and frail to have to cope with the shame of knowing that his grandson has fallen foul of the police. Have you no compunction about disturbing an old man's peace of mind?' she challenged gently.
Angrily, Gavin jumped to his feet to bluster a response to her dare.
'As I've already explained, I've done nothing to be ashamed of! But I'm beginning to wonder, Petra, if you're as honest as you pretend. It strikes me as very peculiar that my level-headed, super-intelligent sister should suddenly have decided to throw her bonnet over the windmill by agreeing to marry an arrogant Greek who can hardly be other than a virtual stranger! What beats me,' he frowned, then decimated her pride with brutal candour, 'is why the beast of Buffavento should want an inconspicuous mouse as his bride!' Blind to her humiliated wince, he continued pondering: 'Impoverished Greeks are as noted for their tendency to marry a dowry as are rich Greek tycoons for their penchant towards youthful wives of outstanding beauty. As you fall into neither category, I ask myself what is it Heracles wants that only you can supply. And more important still, what power is he wielding to make you anxious to marry him?'
In spite of having been force-fed with indigestible facts pertaining to her lack of sex appeal, Petra managed to choke back angry truths that would have goaded his tempestuous temper into an even worse display of rebellion.
'Thank you for the vote of confidence,' she husked ironically. 'Obviously, you have a very low opinion of my ability to attract any man's interest. Fortunately,' she cleared her tight throat to make room for the lie, 'there is such a thing as the attraction of opposites. As I once read somewhere, people who resemble each other are quick to make friends, but mostly it's complete opposites who fall in love.'
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