by Sara Craven
I can't just let her vanish into the night, she thought frantically. But I can't follow her either—not on foot, or from the back of beyond.
But she must do something. Nic thought badly enough of her as it was, and nothing could change that, but she couldn't let Arianna charge unhindered down a road to self-destruction.
Whatever Greek men might do with their lives, Camilla had already deduced that the rules which applied to women were very different. And a headlong flight by Xandreou's sister was just the thing to set malicious tongues wagging.
If Arianna broke the code, however unreasonable it might seem to an outsider, the Xandreou family pride and prestige could be damaged, perhaps irrevocably. And Arianna and Petros would become exiles, with no way back.
She thought, I can't let it happen.
From the terrace, she could see the lights of the Villa Apollo shimmering across the silken calm of the sea. They looked almost close enough to touch, but she knew that was an illusion.
But they were within swimming distance. Nic himself had told her so, a lifetime ago, when things were still simple between them.
She stood very still for a moment, thinking. She'd swum regularly in the bay, and never come across any potentially dangerous currents there. And there was no breeze tonight. If she took it steadily, she could make it.
She didn't allow time for second thoughts. She dragged her one-piece blue swimsuit out of the case, and put it on. It was the one she wore to the local baths at home.
I'll pretend that's where I am—seeing how many lengths I can do, she told herself determinedly, ignoring the nervous flutters in her stomach.
She left her wrap and sandals at the foot of the steps, then, taking a deep breath, ran down to the edge of the sea.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The water felt chilly against her warm skin. Camilla waded in till it was chest-high, then struck out smoothly, deliberately not hurrying.
It was a totally different experience, somehow, swimming at night. The dark water was mysterious, full of whispers and movement. Once something seemed to brash past her, and she bit back a cry, reminding herself of the shoals of fish she'd swum among in daylight. It could even have been a strand of weed, or just her imagination playing tricks.
As soon as she felt tired, she turned on to her back and floated for a while until she was rested enough to go on. There was a brief sickle of a moon above her now, like a friendly beacons lighting her way towards her lover— her enemy.
She changed her stroke to a crawl, cutting easily through the water. She seemed to be making real headway now, with the lights from the Villa Apollo appearing much closer at last. She must be well past the point of no return, she thought, her heart jumping nervously.
Don't think about that, she adjured herself. Concentrate on your breathing, and moving your arms and legs correctly to take full advantage of every stroke. Textbook stuff.
But she needed more than theory to get her through tonight. A fair helping of luck wouldn't come amiss, she thought, treading water to get her bearings. This time, to her dismay, her destination seemed as far away as ever. Maybe she was doomed to swim forever, like some ill-fated mermaid, while the Villa Apollo, like Nic himself, stayed always out of reach.
I was crazy to have started this, she thought, suddenly aware of how cold she was getting, how increasingly difficult it was to maintain that first easy rhythm.
But she mustn't think like that. It wasn't just defeatist, but downright dangerous. Somehow she had to go on. The choice was out of her hands.
All the choices had been out of her hands since the moment she'd first set foot on Karthos. She realised that now. She'd been the plaything of fate since day one.
And if she went down into the sea—the wine-dark sea—that would be fate too. And it would be so easy. She felt the drag of the water at her weary limbs. And then remembered what had brought her this far.
Nic, she thought dazedly, pushing her aching body forward. She had to see him—to tell him—something. What exactly didn't seem to matter any more. The important thing was to see him—to hear his voice—to touch him once more before she left—before the old, drab life closed over her head like the sea.
In her head, she seemed to hear him calling her, urging her on. Eyes closed, arms and legs like lead, she concentrated every nerve, every muscle, every scrap of will on survival.
She was hardly aware of the light at first. It was only a faint blur behind her tired eyelids, but with every stroke it seemed to swell and grow until it filled the universe. And there were voices too—men's voices, shouting something.
Her flailing arms brushed something solid-planking, she realised dazedly—then something seized her, held her, pulling her up into the light.
She cried out in fright, and pain as her muscles protested. When she opened her eyes, she found herself lying on Calliope's deck, with Nic bending over her.
She barely recognised him. His face was grey, his voice hoarse. 'What have you done?’ he demanded. 'In the name of God, why are you here? Are you insane?'
She wanted to put up a hand and smooth away the haggard lines beside his mouth, the crease between his brows. Her heart cried out, I love you. Her mouth tried to form the words.
From a great distance she heard her voice, husky and laboured, say, 'Arianna's run away. You—you must stop her.' Then she fainted.
She was in the sea again, the water lapping round her, loading her down, enclosing her so that she couldn't breathe—and she was struggling, fighting her way to the surface.
'Be still, pedhi mou. You are safe now.'
She forced open her weighted lids, and looked up into Nic's grave face. She was lying in a bed, she realised, with blankets wrapped round her, swaddling her. That was why she'd felt she couldn't move.
'You have to rest—keep warm,' he said quietly. Petros's orders must be obeyed.'
'Petros?’ Camilla frowned as memory began to nudge at her. 'Is he here? But surely...’
'He is downstairs with Arianna.' He paused for a moment. 'After she left you, she went to him, it seems, and he brought her back.’
‘Oh, thank God.’ Camilla felt sudden tears scalding her eyes. 'Please—don't be angry with her. She's so unhappy.’
'Indeed?' The dark brows lifted quizzically. 'When I saw her last, she was smiling and drinking champagne in celebration of her engagement.’
'Engagement?' Camilla ran her tongue round her dry lips.
‘To Petros, naturally.' Nic's gaze bored into her. 'Or did you think I was blind to what was going on?'
'But she said you had plans for her—an arranged marriage.’
He shrugged. 'I was testing her,' he said flatly. 'I wanted to discover if she really loved Petros, or was simply enjoying the drama of a secret romance. He is too good—as a man, and as a friend—to be at the mercy of her whims and fancies, if she had no serious intentions towards him.' He smiled faintly. 'But as she was prepared to abandon everything for a hand-to-mouth existence with him on the other side of Europe, I had to believe her sincerity.'
He sighed. 'I only hope he knows what he is taking on.’ he added drily. His smile became slightly crooked. 'So true love triumphs over circumstances again, Camilla. You should be delighted. Another victory for you.’
'I had nothing to do with it,7 she protested, suddenly and uncomfortably aware that she was naked inside the cocoon of blankets. 'But I'm glad that everything's worked out for them.’ she added rather stiltedly. 'Even if I did make that swim for nothing.’
'Ah, yes,' he said softly. ‘That swim.’ He paused, and Camilla felt tension crackle in the air. 'You crazy little fool. Don't you know you could have drowned?'
She forced a smile to trembling lips. 'It did occur to me—several times. But I had to tell you—to warn you what Arianna intended.’
There was a silence, then he said, 'Was that the only reason?'
She felt a wave of betraying warmth sweep over her. 'There was no other way to re
ach you.’ she prevaricated.
Nic shook his head. 'That was not what I asked, matia mou, and you know it.’
She said in a little rush, 'I couldn't bear to see you hurt again. I knew if Arianna talked to you, told you how she felt, you'd understand.’
‘You had more faith in me that she did,’ he said with a touch of grimness.
She didn’t look at him. ‘Perhaps you don’t see things too clearly when you’re in love,’ she said in a low voice.
‘No.’ His voice was reflective. ‘So - it was just for Arianna’s sake that you chose to risk your life?’
She picked at the edging of a blanket. ‘Not - totally.’
‘So?’
She sighed. ‘I didn’t want to leave - with all the misunderstandings between us.’
‘Tell me something.’ Nic’s fingers closed round her chin, tilting it so that he could study her flushed face. ‘When you came with me to Marynthos - and afterwards - was it only so that your sister could met with Spiro?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘At least - I wouldn’t have pushed myself on to you as I did - but if you’d asked me, I’d have gone with you.’ She stopped, confused and miserable. ‘You were right all along, you see. I was - yours for the taking, only I didn’t want to admit it.’ Her little laugh cracked in the middle. ‘Just another of Xandreou’s women after all.’
‘You flatter me,’ he said with irony. He released her. ‘I’ll carve another notch on the bedhead, and we’ll part friends. Is that what you want?’
What I want? She could have shrieked at him. Body, heart and soul, I ache - burn for you.
She said - ‘I hope we can be friends, certainly. Maybe one day you’ll come to see that Katie and Spiro are happy together, and that the end has justified the means.’
‘You thought I was angry because I’d been made a fool of,’ he said. ‘But that was only part of it. I was frightened, Camilla. Scared that when Spiro regained his memory I might lose him.’ He sat for a moment, looking down at his hands, his face brooding.
‘We quarreled, you see, before the accident,’ he went on. ‘I said cruel things - damaging things about your sister. Made assumptions that he resented. I have never seen him so angry - so determined. He said he was going to her, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. That if his marriage to her meant a complete breach between us, then that was how it would be.’
He shook his head. ‘We were both furious - emotional. I knew he was driving to the ferry - I should have stopped him - calmed him down. He wasn’t fit to be in charge of a car, and I knew it. But I let him go.’ His voice broke. Spiro slumped over the wheel, I knew I could never forgive myself.’
His voice sank almost to a whisper. ‘I feared that when Spiro remembered it would only be the anger - the bitterness. Both he and Arianna - I have had to be responsible for them for so long - more like their father than their brother. I suppose I wanted to protect them both—too much.’
‘I felt the same with Katie,' Camilla confessed. 'I wasn't overjoyed when she first told me about Spiro, believe me.'
He smiled faintly. 'I do, pedhi mou. We both—underestimated them perhaps.’ He threw his head back. ‘I came to realise that while Spiro had that blank in his memory he belonged to me—depended on me again, and I was disgusted at my own selfishness—my own cowardice.'
‘But in reality you had nothing to fear.’ Camilla said softly.
'No.’ he admitted. 'Spiro has been—generous. Your sister also.’ He reached out and took her hand, staring at her fingers as if he was committing them to memory. 'If I had chosen her myself, I could have found no better match for him. I—see that now.’
She bit her lip, feeling tears sting at her eyes. 'You can be generous too, Kyrios Xandreou.’
'I need to make amends, Kyria Dryden.’ His mouth smiled at their formality, but the dark eyes were serious.
'And now it's my turn.’ She swallowed. 'I did agree to keep you out of the way that day, but only because I felt I had no choice. I felt such a fraud when your friends were so nice to me. I found I wanted the day to be real, with no pretence—no hidden agenda.’
'And it was real?' His voice was harsh suddenly. 'When we were together, a man and a woman with nothing but our need for each other? Or was it more pretence - and pity?'
‘Pity?’she echoed in shock. ‘Oh God, do you really thing I could have behaved like that—given myself to you—because I thought you'd had a raw deal with your marriage?' She shook her head. 'You don't know me very well.’
He put her hand against his mouth, his lips grazing her skin, sending a shiver of sensuous yearning through her body. 'Where do you think I was going in Calliope tonight, agape mou, when I pulled you from the sea?'
'Going?' She frowned. 'I don't know.’
'No?' He smiled at her, a tenderness in his face that she had never seen before. 'To the sea house, my Camilla. To ask you to stay—on my knees, if I had to.’
She said with a catch in her voice, ’I thought you went to Athens to get away from me.’
He grimaced. 'So did I. But you've been with me every moment of this endless, damnable week, invading my thoughts all day, torturing my dreams at night in spite of myself.’
She looked at him under her lashes, swiftly and shyly. 'In spite of Zoe too?’
Nic looked resigned. 'My beloved sister, no doubt. I shall instruct Petros to beat her regularly when they are married. Yes, my sweet devil, in spite of Zoe, who found me poor company on the one occasion I took her to dinner. However, I don't know which of us was more surprised when I suddenly heard myself telling her I would not be seeing her again.
'That moment was like a catalyst. I knew then what I had been fighting so desperately to deny.’ He framed her face very gently in his hands. 'That I love you, matia mou, my sweet girl who gave me the innocence in her eyes.'
Camilla said with a little sob, 'Oh, Nic.’
'Hear me out, agape mou. When Spiro called me to say you planned to leave tomorrow, I cancelled my meetings and flew back. I could not let things rest as they were between us. I had to see you—to tell you what was in my heart—to ask you if we could cancel out the unkindness, the mistrust, and begin again.’
He smoothed back a strand of still damp hair from her forehead. 'I also need to know, my dear one, if you can love me.’
She smiled at him, eyes shining, lips tremulous. 'I lost my battle long ago, kyrie. Why else would I swim further than I've ever done in my life, if not to be with you?'
He was very still for a moment, then with a groan he lay beside her. gathering her into his arms as carefully as if she were made of spun glass, planting swift, sweet kisses on her hair, forehead and eyes.
‘I really knew.’ he told her softly, 'that day when I saw you with Hara's baby in your arms. It came to me, like a bolt of thunder, how much I wished to see you holding our child.'
'That's a wish that might be granted sooner than you think,' Camilla said ruefully.
'The possibility troubles you?*
’No.’ She shook her head. 'But I'd better cut out the strenuous exercise from now on, just in case.'
’Yes.’ he said grimly. 'You will. Dear God.’ He smothered a groan. 'How easily I could have lost you.’
'Never.’ She was laughing now, warmly, glowingly provocative as she eased herself out of the encircling blankets and watched the answering fire kindle in his dark eyes. 'Darling Nic, it was all fate. I was born to be Xandreou's woman.’
‘No, sigismos mou,’ he said softly as he bent to her, mouth and hands sensuous against her skin, drawing her against the vibrant beat of his heart. 'Xandreou's wife.’
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