Alien Vengeance (19 page)

‘Oh, God.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘Gemma—
agape mou
—I have done you the greatest wrong it is possible for a man to do to a woman. How much else do you want me to bear on my conscience?’

‘Why should there be guilt?’ she asked. ‘Unless—you don’t want me?’

He flung back the sheet and came across to her, his arms sliding round her body, fiercely, bruisingly.

‘Not want you?’ His voice almost broke. ‘My sweet fool, how could I not want you?’

His fingers slipped under the narrow straps of her nightdress, pushing them from her shoulders, tugging them downwards until the garment lay in a white cloud on the floor. Then he lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the bed.

She was wild for him, the brush of his naked body against her own filling her with sensuous urgency. Her hands slid over his burning skin, paying tribute to the strength of him, the sheer animal grace, echoing without inhibition the passionate exploration his own fingers were making of her.

His head bowed to her breasts, his mouth taking one rosy nipple, then the other into sensual captivity, teasing the hardened sensitive peaks with his tongue until she moaned in pleasure and pleading.

He laughed in his throat. ‘Patience, my dove, my tigress,’ he told her huskily.

His mouth moved downwards over her trembling flesh, trailing fire, bringing every last sense to shattering, responsive life, making her shudder with delight.

His hands slid under her hips, lifting her towards him, silently demanding her acquiescence in the most intimate kiss of all, and she had neither the strength nor the will to deny him, her body convulsing in a shock of pleasure, a soundless scream tearing at her throat as his mouth possessed her.

She was mindless, dazed and rapturous with sensation, consumed by a sweet flame she had never dreamed existed, her body arching towards him, her head thrashing from side to side on the pillow. He moved, his body covering hers, glorying in the completeness of her acceptance of him, and she whispered her need in little broken words as she welcomed him into her, and went with him down the brief, explosive path to their mutual consummation.

And when it was over, she turned pliantly into his arms, pillowing her cheek against his sweat-dampened chest, and they slept.

And woke and made love again with slow, passionate intensity as the night began to take on the shimmer of the day. She clung to him, her hands raking at the smooth skin of his shoulders, the harsh hurry of her breathing matching his, her body poised on the edge of ecstasy, and realised with a kind of anguish that this was the last time she would ever fall through the stars to earth with him, and this agony of pleasure was their farewell to each other.

GEMMA woke first. For a long moment, she lay watching him, as if every line of that darkly arrogant face and strong, lithe body wasn’t already committed to her memory, then moving very carefully so as not to disturb him, she slid out of his encircling arm, and out of bed.

This last time, she would make breakfast for them.

She picked up her discarded nightdress and slid it over her head. Although there was no one but himself to see, she still felt oddly shy about appearing naked in front of him.

She went silent and barefoot downstairs, and out into the kitchen, but the bread had not arrived. She filled the kettle and set it on the stove to boil. Later, she knew there would be pain as she faced the fact they would never meet again, but now, still wrapped in the aftermath of their lovemaking, she felt oddly at peace with herself.

And the sound of footsteps on the terrace, entering the villa was a disruption, although an expected one.

She turned her head, and called, ‘Maria—I’m out here.’

Silence. She frowned a little moving towards the door. ‘Maria?’ Then stopped dead, her hand flying to her mouth with shock.

Michael stood just inside the dining room, his face a picture of stunned incredulity. He said on a whisper, ‘Gemma? What the hell...?’

A wave of burning colour seemed to sweep up from her toes, as she looked back at him. She could hear sounds of movement upstairs, and realised Andreas must have woken. At any moment, he could come down and find them ...

She said hoarsely, ‘Mike—you’ve got to get out of here, now. Which way did you come? Did they see you in the village?’

He looked at her as if she was mad. ‘I don’t know whether they did or not. What’s the matter with you? And what are you doing here? Didn’t you get my last letter?’

‘Probably not,’ she said shakily. ‘But we haven’t time to talk about that now.’

‘Well, we need to talk about a few things,’ he said austerely. ‘For one, did you ask anyone’s permission before moving in here? It’s not for hire, you know. It’s privately owned by some hotel tycoon called Nikolaides ...’

‘I know,’ she interrupted hastily. ‘And he mustn’t find you here.’

‘I’ve got permission,’ he told her impatiently. ‘Stavros, who’s the head man in the village is a great friend of this Nikolaides and ...’

‘But not a great friend of yours—not any more.’ She swallowed. ‘Mike, I know about you—and Maria. They all know, and it’s not safe for you to be here, believe me.’

He disengaged himself from his rucksack, dropping it to the floor with a thud. ‘Oh, Maria,’ he said casually. ‘What’s the little idiot been doing now?’

‘Don’t play games,’ Gemma said bitterly. ‘She’s pregnant, and don’t pretend you didn’t know.’

He shrugged. ‘Oh, I knew all right.’ He sounded exasperated. ‘But hell, I thought she’d be safely married by now. What’s been the snag?’

Gemma looked at him, appalled. ‘The snag,’ she said cuttingly, ‘as you so winsomely put it, was her fiancé, who was understandably reluctant to take on someone else’s child.’

‘Not him,’ he dismissed. ‘I meant Kemal. I went to Chania to find him, and he was coming straight here to get her to marry her, even if it meant running away together. Don’t tell me it’s all gone wrong?’

From behind him, Andreas said grimly, ‘Yes, my friend, it has indeed all gone wrong—very wrong.’

Mike swung round to face him, initial surprise giving way to wariness as he registered the fact that Andreas had clearly just emerged from the shower, and was wearing nothing but a towel draped round his hips. At once, his glance travelled swiftly and sharply towards Gemma as if assimilating her own lack of attire, and his expression changed to an amalgam of embarrassment and condemnation.

He said, ‘Just who the hell are you? And what is my sister doing here with you?’ He sounded defensive and rather young.

‘Do I have to spell it out for you?’ Andreas asked drily, but his tone held none of the triumph Gemma had expected from him now that he and Mike were actually facing each other.

Mike flushed. ‘I suppose not,’ he said with constraint. He didn’t look at Gemma again, but the back of his head spoke volumes of disapproval and more.

‘I have been hoping you would return,’ Andreas went on almost conversationally. ‘And so, I understand, has your friend Kemal, who has spent an uncomfortable time camping out in a shepherd’s hut on the mountain.’

Mike frowned. ‘What on earth for?’

Andreas’ mouth curled. ‘The car he was using broke down on the way here, and he had to abandon it, and with it, his romantic plans for an elopement in the teeth of Stavros and his family. Instead, he had to hide on the mountain, eating as and when Maria could smuggle him food, and waiting for you to come to his rescue yet again.’

Mike groaned. ‘If that isn’t typical,’ he began furiously. ‘I was sure it would be all cut and dried by now. God knows, I never wanted to get involved in the first place.’

‘Then why did you?’ the cool voice asked inexorably.

Mike grimaced. ‘I met Kemal in Chania ages ago. He seemed a bit of a loner at first, but we used to eat in the same places, and got talking, and eventually he told me about this girl he was in love with from one of the villages. Only, he said, her family wouldn’t hear of it because his father was Turkish, and his mother was considered to have disgraced herself by such a marriage. It didn’t seem to make a lot of sense to me, but I felt sorry for him, and for her too, when I found out her family were planning to marry her off to some guy she hardly knew. But in the meantime, she was in Chania, working in some relative’s hotel as a waitress, and Kemal was meeting her on the quiet.’

Gemma stood as if frozen, listening to the story unfold, hearing it at last make a kind of terrible sense in her mind. Maria’s lover was part-Turkish, she thought, which would arouse all kinds of ancient enmities.

‘It seemed an ideal arrangement,’ Mike continued, ‘until the family got suspicious and she was whisked back here to Loussenas. Kemal couldn’t follow at once—her father had banned him from his house a long time before, and naturally he was nervous about showing himself in the village, but he knew I was planning to come to this area anyway to do some research, so he asked me to keep an eye on Maria—make sure she was all right, and that they weren’t pushing this marriage at her.’

He paused. ‘I could see why he wanted to steer clear of her father. Stavros is a formidable guy, although he was kindness itself to me, arranging for me to use this villa. I really didn’t like deceiving him, especially when I found Maria was expecting me to act as a go-between for Kemal and herself. It was just after this that she found out about the baby. She knew all hell would break loose and she begged me to go to Chania and tell Kemal. Well,’ he shrugged, ‘I felt I couldn’t refuse under the circumstances, and as it happened I’d just had a letter from a university mate of mine, Chris Hennessey, saying he and a couple of others were planning to take a caique across to Karpathos, and did I want to join them?’ He shrugged again. ‘You don’t turn down a chance like that, so I wrote to Gem, telling her to postpone her trip for a month or so. It never occurred to me she’d come anyway,’ he added in a tone of faint injury.

‘The letter must have been delayed,’ Gemma said. ‘I never received it.’

Michael turned and looked at her, flushing a little. ‘Okay, these things happen. But coming here is one thing. Getting yourself—involved with some guy you can only just have met is quite another.’ He stopped swallowing. ‘Gem, this isn’t like you. It would just about kill the parents if they knew.’

She bit her lip. ‘Do you plan to tell them?’

‘No, of course not,’ he denied heatedly. ‘But all the same ...’

‘You must not blame your sister in any way,’ Andreas said calmly. ‘Your quarrel is with me, and me alone. Because of the lies Maria told her family after you had left the village, they believed you were the father of her baby.’

‘I was?’ Mike sounded outraged. ‘But that’s insane. I mean—she’s a nice enough girl, I suppose...’

‘Nevertheless, that is what she told them, and they believed her. She was terrified that if she told the truth, Kemal might come to some harm. As you said, Stavros is indeed a formidable man, and he did not take this damage to his daughter’s honour lightly. He wanted—vengeance.’

‘So?’ Mike’s eyes narrowed sharply.

‘So—the letter Gemma wrote to you giving details of her travel plans was found in your room. And to avenge Maria’s honour, and bring shame on you, as you, it was thought, had disgraced Stavros and his kin—to punish you, I—took your sister.’

There was a long silence, then Mike said unevenly, ‘Christ.’ He swung round on Gemma. ‘Gem—does this bastard mean he—raped you?’ Her face burned. ‘No.’

Her brother’s usually gentle face was ugly suddenly, and she moved to him swiftly, gripping his arm interposing herself between the two men. She said softly and urgently, ‘Mike—I can’t explain—I have no excuse at all, but it—wasn’t rape. It—happened, and now it’s over—all over, and I’m leaving this afternoon for home. And there’s no need for anyone to know anything unless you tell them.’

His voice shook. ‘Oh, my God.’

Andreas broke in swiftly, ‘There is no name you can call me that I do not deserve. Nothing you can say, that I have not already told myself a hundred times. But by the time I came to suspect the truth, it was already too late.’ The dark face looked suddenly haggard. ‘At first, I couldn’t believe we had all been so wrong. I thought Kemal had gone to the Turkish side long ago to join his father’s people. So yesterday I spoke to his mother and his aunt, who live now in a village a little way from here, and they told me he had never left Crete. They told me, too, he was planning to marry, and would be bringing his bride to them soon.’

Gemma said half to herself, ‘The house with the fig tree.’

He said quietly, ‘Yes.’ There was a long pause, then he said, ‘There is only one way in which I can now make amends for Maria’s lies and the terrible harm they have caused. In the absence of her father, I ask you Kyrios Michalis, for your sister in marriage.’

In a voice she barely recognised as her own, Gemma said, ‘No,’ violently.

One long stride brought Andreas to her. He took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘What do you mean?’ he demanded harshly.

‘Exactly what she says,’ Mike cut in. ‘And who can blame her? Anyway, I’m here now, and she doesn’t have to do anything you say again, you scum, no matter how many times you may have had her in your bed. She can do better than you, God knows, any day of the week.’

Gemma said softly, ‘Mike—this is Andreas Nikolaides.’

And watched his jaw drop in shock. But he made a stout recovery. ‘To hell with that. I stand by every word I’ve said. The best thing Gemma can do about a swine like you is forget you ever existed.’

‘And is that what you wish, Gemma?’ His hands were still holding her inexorably, his eyes grim as he stared down at her.

Somehow, she found the strength to tear herself free. ‘Yes,’ she said in a thread of a voice. ‘I’m tired of obligations and—and honour, and making amends. I just want to get out of here—away from you. I want to go home.’