Moon of Aphrodite (21 page)

practical grounds, this was the height of the holiday season, and she might wel have

difficulty in obtaining a ticket anywhere. There would be no private jet for the

homeward journey, she thought with a wry smile, remembering the way she had come

to Phoros from London, and wondering how she could have been so blind. Even then

she had been fighting her attraction for Damon, she thought, only she hadn't ful y

realised how vital it was for her to win that particular battle. And in the end she had lost

al the way round.

It would have been so easy last night to tel herself that the desire she saw in his eyes

was love. But how long could that sort of deception last within the ultimate reality of

marriage? Until he became bored, she supposed, recal ing the cynical regret he had

expressed the previous' evening about losing such a potential y understanding wife.

That's what he thinks, she told herself, her hands instinctively bal ing into fists. I

wouldn't be understanding at al . Why, if he so much as looked at another woman,

I'd ... She stopped abruptly, forced herself to relax, and take a sip of her rapidly cooling

coffee. That particular train of thought was singularly unproductive. If she was going to

be able to get through the remainder of her stay at- the vil a without betraying herself,

then she would have to keep away from the thorny areas of what might have been.

She became aware that Josephina was watching her, an expression of concern on her

wrinkled face, and she forced herself to smile.

'How—how is Kyrios Michaelis this morning, Josephina? Have you heard?' She wasn't

too worried. If the previous evening's events had caused any kind of relapse, she was

sure she would have heard already.

As it was Josephina's smile positively beamed. 'He is wel , pedhi mou, as how should he

not be? Your being here has made him so happy. Everyone speaks of it.'

'I'm glad of that. I—I shal miss him when I have to go home.'

'Go home?' Josephina sounded aghast. 'What talk is this? Kyrios Michaelis does not

expect that you wil go home.'

'I think I know what Kyrios Michaelis expects,' said Helen in a low voice. 'Nevertheless I

shal be returning to England at the end of the month.'

'But, child of my heart, what of Kyrios Leandros?'

'What of him?' Helen retorted more calmly than she actual y felt. 'He is no concern
of

mine, Josephina.'

'No concern?' Josephina almost wailed. 'But, pedhi mou ...'

'Could we change the
subject?' Helen appealed hastily. She glanced around her. 'Why

are you doing my room, Josephina? Isn't that Yannina's job?'

We, thespinis, but with a guest arriving today, she has another room to prepare, so her

duties are mine.' Josephina's tone was suddenly more formal, but her dark eyes, as

melancholy as a monkey's, could not conceal her bewilderment as she looked at Helen.

She thinks I'm mad, Helen thought moodily, thrusting the almost untouched tray of

food away from her. Probably I am. I've just been offered half a loaf and I prefer to join

the ranks of the starving.

Presently Josephina took the tray, and, stil rather formal in manner, excused herself.

Left to herself, Helen found the prospect of a shower a positive enticement. She felt

sticky and aching after her restless night. She made to push away the concealing sheet,

and paused as a knock came on the bedroom door. She smiled wryly. Josephina was

real y holding aloof. Normal y she knocked and entered in one movement, chatting

volubly as she did so.

Helen cal ed, 'Come in,' and rolled across the bed to the side table, reaching for her

wristwatch.

The door opened and Damon came in.

For a moment she was too stunned to move, then she snatched frantical y at the

slipping sheet, cursing herself silently because she had fal en into bed the previous

night without bothering with a nightdress. And the fact that he himself was

immaculately dressed in a lightweight cream suit with a dark brown silk shirt and tie

only served to make the whole situation that much worse.

'What do you want?' she gasped.

'There is no need for such panic,' he said coolly. 'I have not come here to force myself

on your unwil ing body. Not even my overwhelming greed for your grandfather's

possessions would prompt me to rape. I am going to Kyritha to meet the ferry, and I

wondered if you wished to accompany me.'

'Can you think of a single reason why I should?' Helen tried to slide unobtrusively down

the bed, but the sheet was becoming wound too tightly and revealingly round her body

to permit much movement.

'Oh, yes. Your companion and tutor Madame Stavros is arriving, and I thought you

might wish to be the first to greet her.'

'Oh,' she said, rather weakly, unwil ing to confess that the events of the past twenty-

four hours had dismissed Madame Stavros' imminent appearance on the scene from her

mind. 'Of course, that's who Yannina was preparing the room for. I-—I didn't, realise.'

'Madame Stavros' room has been ready for some time. The activity this morning is to

prepare accommodation for Thia Irini's goddaughter who is also due today.'

'Yes, she mentioned it yesterday. I didn't know she was expected quite so soon.'

'Neither did anyone else, including your grandfather. She broke the news to him at

dinner last night,' he said rather drily.

'Oh, is that what it was?' Helen recal ed the slight fracas. 'He wasn't at al pleased, was

he? Doesn't he like her?'

Damon lifted one shoulder in a shrug. 'I don't think he cares much about her at al . Last

night the prospect of having her here as a guest did not appeal to him at al . This

morning he is a little more reconciled. Wel , do you wish to come with me to Kyritha or

not?'

She flushed slightly. 'I—don't think so. I have a slight headache, and being cooped up

in a stuffy car won't real y improve it.'

'What has happened to last night's honesty, Eleni? It is myself that you do not wish to

be "cooped up with", is it not so? No doubt you wish that I would remove myself from

your vicinity altogether, but I regret to say you wil be disappointed. I am having

alterations done at my own vil a, and it is not convenient for me to leave your

grandfather's house. We are both his' guests here, and we can at least be civil to each

other.'

'Wel , I stil don't want to come to the vil age with you,' she said between gritted teeth.

'I've no burning urge to meet Madame Stavros anyway. Her coming here is a complete

waste of time.'

'Under the circumstances, perhaps,' he agreed level y. 'Nevertheless I hope you wil

extend the civility I spoke of to her. She is an old friend of both our families.'

'Butter,' she said equal y level y, 'wil not melt in my mouth. Does that satisfy you?'

'I think we wil not discuss any of the ways in which you might satisfy me.' His voice

was silky. 'I doubt whether you would wish me to enumerate them.'

Helen's face flamed. She said shakily, 'Just—get—-out.' But she was talking to the door

gently closing behind him. She turned convulsively on to her stomach and buried her

face in the pil ow.

if

The morning was dragging endlessly, Helen thought, as she threw another pebble

restlessly into the sea. The vil a seemed to be in an uproar over the expected guests,

with Thia Irini everywhere hectoring the impassive servants into cleaning again already

immaculate rooms. Helen had wondered wryly whether the same fuss had been made

prior to her own arrival. Not that she grudged the unknown Soula any of it. She knew

that in Greece the relationship between godparent and godchild was a particularly close

and important one, and if having Soula as a guest at the vil a pleased Thia Irini, and did

anything to improve her temper, then Helen was al for it.

She had paid her usual morning visit to her grandfather in some trepidation, but his

reception of her had been calm and affectionate. Damon's proposal and her rejection of

it was not even mentioned-—and that was odd, she thought, bending to select another

pebble. Perhaps her grandfather decided that it would cause less embarrassment al

round if everyone pretended the whole thing had never happened. She swal owed

painful y, thinking, 'Some hopes of that!'

It was al very wel for Damon to talk of being civil, because the next week or two were

going to be the most difficult of her life, and civility didn't even enter into it. She was

heartsick, and at al costs she had to conceal the fact. She tried to encourage herself

with the reminder that with other guests staying at the vil a, close encounters of any

kind with Damon would be easier to avoid. A little bitter smile twisted her lips. Who was

she trying to fool? If the vil a was bursting at the seams with happy holiday makers, she

would stil be conscious of him and only him with every fibre of her being.

Moodily she swung back her arm, and threw the pebble as far as it would go. It was

then she saw the boat, nosing its way round the headland. It was a caique, and Helen

assumed it was one of the local fishermen. She had seen plenty of them sail across the

smal bay during her long leisurely hours on the beach. But this boat was not sailing

across the bay, it was turning towards the shore, and as Helen watched, its sole

occupant waved to her. Puzzled, she shaded her eyes, staring at it. The vil agers knew

this beach was private. Surely they wouldn't land here unless they were in trouble, and

the soft phut-phut of the boat's engine sounded healthy enough. The fisherman waved

again, and shouted something which sounded amazingly like 'Helen!' and as the boat

came nearer, she realised that he had fair hair, and that it was Craig Lassiter.

Hastily she slipped off the cheesecloth tunic she was wearing over her bikini and kicked

off her sandals. Then she ran into the coolness of the water and struck out for the boat.

It was further out than she thought, and she was breathless by the time Craig was

bending to help her out of the water, and over the side.

He said, smiling, 'Welcome aboard, fair Helen. The other nine hundred and ninety-nine

ships arc following. I could only manage to launch this on my own.'

She laughed and accepted the towel he handed her, wringing the excess water out of

her hair.

'What brings you here?' she asked.

'The most beautiful beachcomber in the Aegean.' His eyes were frankly admiring as

they studied her and she flushed a little, draping the towel over her shoulders. 'I met

you, and I wanted to see you again. Don't tel me it's an uncommon reaction.'

'I don't think I need tel you anything,' she said drily. She looked around. 'Is this your

caique?'

'No, it belongs to a friend, but I have the use of it when I want.'

'You obviously have very obliging friends.'

'I'm good to them. They're good to me,' he said airily. 'And how is life in the Korialis

household?'

Had his gaze become slightly more searching? Helen wondered. 'Much as ever,' she

said.

'But I thought your future husband had come down from Mount Olympus or wherever

such godlike beings reside, and was staying at the vil a.'

Helen bit her lip. 'if you mean Damon Leandros—yes, he is there. But he is not and

never wil be my future husband.'

'You make that sound almost official.'

'It is,' she said shortly, 'be the first to know.'

Craig stared at her for a moment, then gave an appreciative whistle.

'You mean you've actual y turned the great man down? Oh, but that's wonderful! That's

made my day.'

'I can't see why it should have done.' Helen found his exuberant reaction perplexing.

'Do you actual y know Da ... Mr. Leandros?'

'He doesn't exactly put me at the top of his guest list,' he said sarcastical y. 'But I know

him, natural y. He's my landlord.'

'Your landlord? Then you don't own your taverna?'

'Hel , no. Very few of these waterfront places actual y belong to the people who run

them. They're rented, usual y from rich Athenian businessmen. You're pretty safe

normal y, unless your particular waterfront gets caught up in the tourist boom, and the

landlord decides your taverna would make more money for him as a gift shop or a

boutique or a smart restaurant. It happened to a friend of mine on another island. Next

thing he knew, his rent had gone sky-high and he had to get out.'

'But that's dreadful!'

'It's business,' Craig returned drily. 'But fortunately the tourists haven't discovered

Phoros to any great extent yet. Not that that's slopped Leandros trying to get lid of me

in the past on a number of occasions.'

'Why should he want to do that?'

Craig shrugged. His face was sul en suddenly. 'Pressure from an old friend, perhaps. I

did say that your grandfather hadn't been very wel disposed, towards the English up to

now. Having me living in Kyritha must have been like a red rag to a bul .'

'Wel , the whole thing makes me feel very ashamed,' she said hotly.

'No need.' He sent her a lazy smile. 'I can cope, I promise you.
In my own way, I can