by Sara Craven
She was sinking down into the softness of the mattress, the weight of his lean body imprisoning her, creating new hungers in every trembling inch of her as she strained towards him in this new and incomprehensible desperation. He pushed down the other strap of her nightgown, his face absorbed, intent, his mouth hot and seeking against her fragrant flesh. His hands were urgent as they stroked her body through the thin fabric, pushing its hem up towards her thigh with swift and sensual purpose.
'Se thelo.’ His voice was husky against the uneven beat of her heart. 'Se thelo poli.'
And the alien words which instinct warned her spoke only of physical need, and no warmer, tenderer emotion, sent the dream shattering into sudden, cold reality.
She was insane, she thought with fear. She must be—lying here on the bed he'd once shared with his wife—a girl whose promise-filled life had ended in isolation and despair. Whose torn photograph was scattered at their feet in ultimate rejection.
And she was letting him touch her—oh, God—letting him use her like some sensual exorcism.
She braced her hands against his chest, pushing him away, her body rigid with panic and denial.
‘atia mou—what is? What's wrong?'
'Everything.’ Camilla said hoarsely. 'Let go of me—leave me alone. How—how dare you...?'
She scrambled off the bed, dragging the bodice of her nightdress up to cover her breasts, her hands clumsy with shame and remorse.
Nic lifted himself on to an elbow and observed her struggles, his eyes hooded, his firm mouth twisting cinically.
‘There was no question of daring, agape mou. You wanted what was happening as much as I did. Perhaps more.’ he added with swift, silky cruelty.
Camilla gasped, colour burning her face. She said unsteadily, 'Get out of this room. Get away from me.'
'Are you sure?' There was deliberate insolence in his voice—in the look which raked her—stripped her, 'Perhaps you should learn to be more accommodating- like your sister. You might find there was more to be gained. That, in certain circumstances, I could be persuaded to be generous.’
She flung back her head. 'Become just another "Xandreou's woman"?’ Her voice was uneven. 'You over-estimate your attractions;, kyrie. I'd beg in the streets first.'
Nic's eyes narrowed, but he shrugged as he swung himself off the bed. ‘That is your choice, of course. But I should warn you there is a time limit to the terms I'm prepared to offer—all of them.' He paused to allow the implication in his words to sink in. 'Maybe it would be wiser, for your sister's sake, to think again- and soon.’
He walked without haste to the open window, turning to touch his fingertips to his lips in a parody of a tender farewell.
He said softly, 'Send me word when you have changed your mind.'
'About what?' Camilla demanded tautly.
His eyes swept her body again, and he smiled. 'Everything,’ he said, and was gone.
It was another flawless morning, baking hot already, even under the protection of a sun umbrella. Camilla, ensconced on a lounger in a sheltered part of the terrace, could hear the sound of voices from the saloni, and guessed that Arianna had arrived for her daily visit.
Her misgivings about the Greek girl had been unjustified, she was bound to admit. Her presence at the sea house was, for Katie, a much needed link with Spiro, and also the outside world as the sea house had no phone.
Three endless days had dragged by since that devastating encounter with Nic, and, although there had been neither sight nor sound of him since, her emotions were still ragged, her senses in turmoil.
She had told herself a hundred times that this crazy, unwanted infatuation with Nic Xandreou—for that was all it was, all it ever could be—meant nothing. Absolutely and finally nothing.
Life in England might not have been easy, but she'd coped—earned herself a reputation for being calm and reliable. Yet now...
I don't know what's happening to me, she thought desperately. I'm not in control any more, and I hate it. I miss my peace of mind. I want it back.
But there would be no inner tranquillity for her on Karthos. Living in the sea house was a constant torment, with its reminders of the shadowed past Nic had shared there with his beautiful young wife—and those even more potent recent memories, from which there was no escape.
The thought of his lovemaking still seared her skin. His presence seemed to linger in the room, evoking a strange trembling awareness she had no power to suppress.
Soula had cleared up the torn fragments of the photograph, her plump face sad, her mouth discreetly compressed. Her employer's marriage was a subject on which she was clearly not prepared to be drawn, although she would chat to Katie by the hour about the old days when both Nic Xandreou and his brother were boys.
Arianna had explained the situation to her, and she had taken Katie firmly under her wing, supervising her diet, and rationing her hours in the sun.
As for Nic himself, presumably he was staying aloof, awaiting her message to say she was ready to deal, Camilla thought bitterly.
But, even when he was absent, she was always aware of him, just the same, Sometimes, across the shimmering water the Villa Apollo looked almost close enough to touch, and as she sunbathed or swam in the shallow waters of the cove she had the odd impression that unseen eyes were watching her, although she knew that was absurd.
The need to go—to get away before it was too late—had begun to obsess her. Part of her mind was saying that her mission to Karthos was hopeless, anyway. That maybe Nic did hold all the aces, and their best course would be to agree to some kind of financial settlement. But she knew any suggestion to Katie they should cut their losses and return to England would be indignantly resisted.
Katie, immersed in her own emotional maelstrom, had no idea of the confusion that was ripping her sister apart. Nor did Camilla want her to know.
'Kalimera.’ Arianna appeared beside her, looking cool and elegant in a slim-fitting dress the colour of peppermint ice. 'Soula insists your sister must rest on her bed a little.’
'She's been very kind,’ Camilla said rather stiltedly.
Arianna shrugged. 'She loves Spiro, and wants to see him happy. But how to achieve it, that is the problem.’ She sat down on an adjoining lounger. Petros has promised he will bring Katie and Spiro together as soon as the coast is clear.'
She spread her hands. 'But Nicos is rarely away from the Villa Apollo these days, and when he is absent it is only for a short time— and he leaves Yannis to watch Spiro.’ She frowned. 'We must find some way of drawing him from the villa, and keeping him away for several hours.’
Camilla said constrictedly, 'Surely he'll be going to Athens some time…’
'You mean to see Zoe?' Arianna gave a
worldly shrug. 'Who knows? Nicos does not
discuss such things with me, and he is too con
cerned with Spiro anyway. In fact - ‘ she leaned forward '—he has told Petros that he may soon take Spiro to the States to see specialists there, and if he does…’ she shrugged again '... I think that will be the end of your hopes. You could not afford to follow him there.’
'No,' Camilla said quietly. 'We couldn't. Does Katie know about this?’
'No. I thought it best to say nothing. But,’ Arianna said briskly, ‘it means there is no time to be lost. We must make a diversion somehow for Nicos. Get him away from the villa for half a day—a day even.’ Her brilliant gaze switched to Camilla. 'This will be your task, I think.’
'Mine?' Camilla sat bolt upright on her lounger. 'What are you talking about?'
Arianna's smile was oblique. "You tell Nicos you wish to meet with him, to make a deal, but away from here so that your sister will not know and be upset. And then you keep him with you,' she added, her smile widening. 'It will be no problem. He is an attractive man, ne, and you—intrigue him, I think.’
'No.’ Bright spots of colour burned in Camilla's face. 'I'm sorry, but I can't—I won't. It's quite im
possible.’ Her heart was thumping against her ribcage. 'Anyway he wouldn't believe me. I've made it more than clear that I won't negotiate.’
'But isn't it also a woman's privilege to change her mind?' Arianna asked. 'That is something Nicos understands very well, I think.'
Camilla sank her teeth into her lower lip. 'I'm—sure he does. But I don't play those kinds of games.’
Arianna shrugged again, this time with an air of fatalism. 'Then we can do nothing. Spiro will go to America, and you will go home with a suntan and some money.'
Camilla groaned inwardly.
'I'd never get away with it,' she said desperately.
'Unless you try, how can you know?’ Arianna demanded. 'Besides, Nicos has always said that an easy deal is one not worth making. He expects a fight.’ Her eyes gleamed at Camilla. 'But not always the choice of battlefield—or weapons.'
There was a loaded silence.
At last Camilla said helplessly, 'All right— I'll try, but I'm not promising a thing.'
'Good,’ Arianna approved with the familiar cat-like grin. 'Because now you could have the perfect opportunity.’ She pointed a pink-tipped finger. 'My brother comes here, I think.’
Camilla saw that a blue boat, its tan sail neatly furled, had come round the adjoining headland, and was making for the cove.
'Oh, God.’ The breath seemed to choke in her throat. She turned on Arianna. 'You knew already—didn't you?' she accused. 'That he was coming here. You've set me up.’
'No, I swear it. He said nothing at breakfast. But it is a chance we cannot miss, ne?’ she went on pleadingly. 'For the sake of Spiro and your sister, tell him you wish to talk to him privately. Make him take you with him on the boat, wherever he is going—then keep him with you until the sun has set. Give us time.’
She rose gracefully to her feet, ‘As soon as you have left with him, I will take Katie to the clinic to fetch Petros so that he may supervise their meeting, then we will all go straight to the Villa Apollo.’ She put her cheek swiftly against Camilla's. 'Good luck to us all,' she whispered, and was gone in a cloud of warm fragrance.
Camilla looked at the approaching boat, and the dark figure at the tiller, then at the brilliant sky.
It would be a very long time until sunset, she realised numbly. And she would need more than luck to come through unscathed.
She said aloud, softly and despairingly, God, what have I just agreed to?'
CHAPTER NINE
Camilla waited for him on the small wooden jetty built out from the beach, standing slim and straight in the sleeveless, button-through sundress, with its deep scooped neck, which matched, and now covered, her jade-green bikini. Chin tilted slightly to conceal her nervousness, she watched him bring Calliope expertly alongside.
lKalimera.’ He tossed a rope to her, then swung himself lithely ashore. He was wearing brief white shorts which hugged his lean hips, topped by a sea-island cotton shirt striped in red and navy. 'I hope I haven't kept you waiting.'
'I wasn't aware that I'd sent for you,’ she retorted, and caught herself. That wasn't the persuasive note Arianna had suggested.
He shrugged. 'But I knew it would only be a matter of time.’He was half smiling, the dark eyes narrowed and speculative.
'How?'
'Because whatever wrongs you feel your sister has suffered, you have to go back,' he said. 'You have a life to return to—a job which you need because times are hard.' His glance travelled with cool deliberation down her body. ‘Maybe even a man.’
The inflexion in his voice made it a question, rather than a statement.
‘That,’ Camilla said quietly, ‘is none of your business.’
'Then let us discuss the real business between us. That is why you are here, ne? Because you are ready to negotiate a settlement?’
'I—I don't seem to have a choice.’ Camilla avoided the intensity of his gaze.
'At last you see reason.’ There was satisfaction in his tone. ‘I will call on you this evening after dinner with details of my proposals.’
‘Oh, no.’ That was the wrong plan altogether, Camilla thought with alarm. 'I mean—I'd hoped to talk things over with you—privately, first—before I break the news to my sister.’
He shrugged. 'Very well—when?’
Camilla took a deep breath. ‘There's no time like the present.’
'Now?' The dark brows lifted. 'That is not possible. I have only called to see Soula, to pay her some money for the house. Then I am going to Marynthos, a village on the other side of the island.’
Camilla's nails dug into the palms of her hands. 'Couldn't I come with you?' She saw a flare of surprise in his face and hurried on. ‘Now that I've made up my mind, I don't want to let things—drag on. And, anyway, I've hardly seen anything of Karthos, and this could be my last chance. That is if you don't mind a passenger.’ she added, challenging his lengthening silence.
'No.’ he said at last, his smile crooked. 'I do not—mind. But you, matia mow—are you prepared to take the risk?'
'Risk?' Camilla glanced around her and shrugged. 'The weather seems set fair, and I'm a good sailor anyway.'
'That is not,’ Nic said quite gently, 'what I meant.' As their eyes met, a faint shiver went through her, mingling fear and excitement. He laughed suddenly, and held out a hand to help her into the caique. ‘Ela tora. Come on, then, Kyria Camilla.’
So far, so good, Camilla told herself as he manoeuvred the boat away from the jetty and turned the bow towards the open sea. She risked one fleeting glance back at the sea house. Which, of course, he saw.
'Should you have left a message for your sister? Will she be concerned?'
'Katie's resting.’ she said briefly. 'And I mentioned I might go out today—find out what the island has to offer.'
'Then I shall have to make sure you are not disappointed.' There was a vein of amusement underlying the courteous words that wasn't lost on her.
He thought she was a pushover, she realised with a swift smart of shame. That she'd come with him for a brief sexual adventure, although that was what she needed him to think, of course. She had to use all that superb male confidence against him, to bolster her own resolve not to fall into that sensual, charismatic web he knew so well how to weave, and become just another of Xandreou's women.
I'll be the one that got away, she assured herself. Oh, God, I've got to be...
'Would you like to steer?' His voice broke across her uncomfortable reverie.
'Is it safe?' she asked doubtfully, and Nic laughed.
‘I won't let you sink us, matia mou.’
‘Why do you call me that? What does it mean?' Camilla asked as she gingerly took the tiller.
'It means "my eyes".’ Nic said, after a pause. 'When a woman allows a man to look into her eyes, Camilla mou, she offers him a key to the secrets of her heart.' He paused. 'Or so it is said.'
Her pulses quickened. She said flippantly, 'No wonder so many people wear sunglasses, in that case.'
'You do not.'
'Well.' Camilla shrugged. 'Perhaps I have nothing to hide.’
'No?' He took her chin in his hand, turning her gently but inexorably to face him. For a startled moment, she found his dark gaze burning into hers. 'I see anger, Camilla, and defiance^ and anxiety, and behind these a mystery as deep as the sea.’ He paused again. 'What I have never seen is laughter.'
'That's hardly surprising.' She freed herself with a swift jerk of her head. 'After all, I haven't found a great deal to laugh about since I got here.'
‘Or before that, either, I think.’ His voice was reflective. 'How long have you had the sole responsibility for your sister?'
'Three—nearly four years.’ Her voice shook as she told him briefly about the accident. 'But—please.’ she added hurriedly, 'you mustn't think it's been some kind of burden. Katie's a wonderful girl. She's never given me a moment's worry...’ She stopped, feeling foolish.
'Until now.’ he said drily.
Ca
milla shrugged. ‘I didn't bargain for her falling in love.’
‘No?' His smile was faintly cynical. "Have you forgotten the power of a warm night under the moon?5
'No.’ She wouldn't admit that she'd never experienced it. 'I just thought Katie was more-level-headed, that's all.’
She needed to find a less personal topic-defer any discussion about Katie for as long as possible, she reminded herself.
'Why are we going to Marynthos?' she asked brightly. 'Is there something special there?'
'Very special—a new baby—the son of my friend Dimitris loannides. He's asked me to be godfather.’
'And you've agreed?' She couldn't hide her surprise.
‘Of course,’ he said with slight hauteur. ‘We Greeks take such responsibility very seriously.’
‘Oh,’ Camilla swallowed. ‘I didn’t realize I’d be intruding on such a private occasion. I'm sorry.’
‘If I thought you would intrude, you would not be here.' His tone was matter-of-fact.
'Oh.’ She could easily, she realised, have been left standing on the jetty. Thank you—I think.’
‘Parakalo.’ His grin was swift, and oblique. His hand covered hers on the tiller. 'You have strayed a little off course.’ he cautioned. 'Take care.’
Yes, Camilla thought grimly, feeling her flesh warm and tingle at the contact with his. I certainly will.
She removed her own hand, and said coolly, 'Perhaps you'd better take over. I don't want to end up on the rocks.’
'As you wish. Relax, then, and enjoy the trip. Feel the sun on your face.' He reached out and released the barrette which confined her hair at the nape of her neck. 'And the wind in your hair,' he added, tossing the barrette casually overboard.
'Why the hell did you do that?' Camilla demanded furiously, trying to control her chestnut mane with her fingers, and failing as the breeze gleefully whipped it into a tangle.
'Because today, agape mou,' Nic drawled, 'you are not the tied-back, buttoned-up, oh, so responsible sister. She is consigned to the oblivion she deserves. Today you will drink wine and taste life.' He paused. 'And your eyes will smile at me. Is it agreed?'
