Moon of Aphrodite (5 page)

lion scenting the air, Helen thought, and smiled at her own fancy.

She became aware that a group of people behind her were patiently waiting to take a

photograph and stepped out of the way with a murmured word of apology. She knew

that because of the wear and tear of the
centuries, and more recently air pollution from

the great city which circled the foot of the Acropolis, the most she could do was look

and admire from a distance. Some ot the buildings, she noticed, glancing round her,

were already supported by scaffolding. It was a shame, but at least the authorities were

doing their best to preserve them for further generations of feet to tread up the long

winding route from the foot of the rock.

She sat down on a piece of fal en masonry, and fil ed her mind with images to carry

away with her, because she doubted whether she would ever come back. She had

agreed to undertake this journey of reconciliation because her grandfather was elderly

and il . It seemed quite likely that he was at death's door, she thought sombrely, and

once he was dead there would be no reason for her to return to Greece ever again.

That feeling of fel owship with the past, of homecoming even that she had experienced

earlier, had disturbed her. She didn't understand herself. She had always regarded

herself as English through and through, and wholly her father's daughter. She had

never ever looked Greek, she thought in perplexity.

After a while, she rose and walked to the edge, threading her way between the

chattering groups with their clicking cameras. The view was stupendous. She thought

she could even catch a glimpse of the sea in the distance.

She turned away at last, feeling a little giddy. The sun reflecting off the white rock she

stood on was almost overwhelming, like some exotic moonscape. It would surely be

cooler, more bearable indoors. She went down a brief flight of steps, past a large stone

owl and into the museum. She found an unoccupied bench and sank down on to it,

pressing her fingers against her forehead with a little sigh.

When the hand descended on her shoulder, she looked up with a start, thinking it was

one of the attendants- Instead she found herself looking into the coldly furious face of

Damon Leandros.

'Oh.' She stared up at him, her brows drawing together. 'It's you. How did you find

me?'

'It did not require a great deal of thought to deduce where you were going,' he said

icily. 'I saw you enter the museum and followed. What is the matter? Are you il ?'

'A slight headache, that's al ,' she returned stiffly, and heard his exasperated sigh.

'I asked you to rest for precisely this reason/ he said after a pause. 'I do not wish to

present you to your grandfather suffering from heatstroke or exhaustion.'

'Of course not, although I needn't ask whether that's prompted by concern for me or

concern for your job.' She pushed her hair back from her face with defiant fingers. 'I

suppose my grandfather might not be too pleased that you'd left me to my own

devices.'

He gave her a long, hard look. 'Your grandfather was perfectly wel aware that I had

business to attend to this afternoon, and that our departure for Phoros would be

delayed for a few hours.'

'Real y?' Helen smiled in spite of her pounding head. 'I saw your—-business beside you

in the car. Nice work if you can get it,' she added with deliberately airy vulgarity.

But the expected explosion did not transpire. When he did speak his voice was softer

than ever.

'Miss Brandon, did your father never heat you when you were a child?'

'Of course not.' Helen dismissed from her mind the memory of numerous childish

chastisements. 'Why do you ask?'

'Idle curiosity. There could, of course, be no other reason.' His tone was silky. 'Are you

prepared to return to the hotel with me now, and rest?'

Helen lifted her chin. 'But I haven't had a chance to look round the museum yet,' she

objected.

'Then by al means let us do so.' She didn't like the smile he gave her as he lifted her to

her feet.

Half an hour later, she was wishing with al her heart that she had meekly acceded to

his original suggestion o£ returning to the hotel. Her head was pounding almost

intolerably, and she felt desperately thirsty and slightly queasy at the same time. At any

other time—-and of course if he had been anyone else—she would have been

fascinated by what he was tel ing her about the transition from the Archaic to the

Classical style in sculpture, but his words seemed to buzz meaninglessly in her ears.

And the curving smiles on the Korai, the maidens carved out of stone as offerings to the

virgin goddess of the city, Athena, seemed to mock her everywhere she looked.

She swal owed, staring down at the floor, refusing to admit defeat. She was being a

tool, she knew. After al , Damon Leandros had been detailed by her grandfather to look

after her, and she was sure she only had to give a hint and she would be out of this

increasingly stuffy atmosphere, and back in that comfortable hotel room, with the

shutters closed. But if she asked him to take her back, he would have won in some

obscure way and that she could not al ow. She gave a little stifled sigh and forced

herself to concentrate on the head of a boy, known as the 'blond youth', Damon told

her, because there were stil traces of yel ow tint found on it when it was discovered.

'We have always admired fair hair, you see.' Her companion's voice sounded amused.

'On Phoros near your grandfather's vil a there is a ruined temple that archaeologists say

was dedicated to Aphrodite. She is usual y pictured as having blonde hair too.'

Helen said faintly, '.She could be bald as a coot for me. I—I real y must get out of here.

I can't breathe.'

The events of the next hour or so were merciful y blurred. Later she would remember

details, like the strength of his arm round her, and the way the cushions of that sleek

car of his seemed to support her like a cloud. As they drove back to the hotel, she

found herself wondering, as she tried to control the waves of threatened nausea, what

he had done with the dark beauty she had seen him with, but enquiring was altogether

too much trouble. Besides, she tried to tel herself, what did it matter how many women

he had?

And she could remember vomiting tiredly until her throat and her stomach ached, and

the tiled bathroom swung in a dizzying arc around her, and the refreshing sensation of

a towel dipped in cold water wiping her face, and being placed across
her forehead as

at last—at long last—she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again it was early evening, judging by the length of the

shadows across the floor. She sat up gingerly. Her head stil ached, but she no longer

felt that terrible, debilitating nausea. In fact, she was almost hungry. She pushed back

the single sheet which was the only covering provided on the bed, and started to get

out, catching as she did so an astonished glimpse of herself in the long mirror opposite.

She looked a mess, she thought candidly. Her eyes looked twice their normal size, and

her hair hung on her shoulders in a tangle, but that was incidental. Al she was wearing

were
her underclothes, a dark blue lace bra and matching brief panties. Her navy dress

was hanging over the back of a chair with her sandals placed neatly beside it, and she

couldn't for the life of her remember removing any of them.

She got up and went over to the dressing table, reaching for her hairbrush which had

been among the smal amount of hand luggage she had unpacked, and starting to

smooth her hair into its usual face-curving style. She looked wan, she thought critical y,

but cosmetics would soon improve that. She wandered into the bathroom and had a

long leisurely wash, spraying herself liberal y with L'Air du Temps when she had

finished.

She would phone down for some soup, she thought, and also enquire
if there were any

messages for her. It was already wel past the time that Damon Leandros had proposed

they should set off for Phoros, and she supposed he would be waiting somewhere.

Grudgingly, she had to admit that he had been kind enough during the dash back to the

hotel, and that he had at least left her alone to recover from her sickness.

She sauntered back into the bedroom, and stopped dead, her eyes widening in

disbelief. Damon Leandros was there, lounging nonchalantly against the long row of

fitted wardrobes which fil ed one wal . For a moment their gazes locked, and then his

eyebrows rose mockingly and she remembered too late that she was half naked.

She looked round wildly for her dress, but he was between her and the chair on which

it lay. As if he guessed what was going through her mind, he turned and reached for it,

tossing it to her. She snatched at it thankful y, and dragged it over her head, her hands

fumbling as she sought to reach and close the long back zip.

He watched her efforts for a moment or two, a derisive smile curling bis lips, then he

moved towards her and she took an instinctive step backwards.

'Relax,' he advised curtly. 'I have no intention of raping you, but you seem to need

help.' 'I don't need anything from you,' Helen choked, stil struggling ineffectual y with

that damned zip.

'You didn't say that a few hours ago while I was holding your head in the bathroom,' he

said. 'Besides, I may have damaged the zip when I removed the
dress. I was in a hurry

and they are
fragile things.'

Helen pressed her hands against burning cheeks. 'You—it was you? Oh, how could you?

How dared you?'

'There was no question of daring,' he said coolly. 'I thought English girls gloried in their

liberation from outdated conventions. Besides, you were and are perfectly adequately

clothed. I daresay you wil
wear far less when you go swimming on Phoros.'

'Wel , at least you won't be there to see,' Helen flashed. 'I doubt whether Mr. Korialis

wil regard your activities in quite the same liberated way.'

'So you intend to make use of your Greek parentage when it suits you. I find that

interesting.' He walked over to her before she could retreat again and spun her round,

his hands on her shoulders. Helen felt the recalcitrant zip move upwards, and for one

infinitely disturbing minute the brush of his fingers strangely cool on the heated skin of

her spine. She tensed involuntarily at his touch, 'and heard him laugh softly.

'I'm glad I amuse you,' she said tersely, as she pul ed away from him. 'I think you'l

laugh on the other side of your face when you find yourself out of a job.'

'You intend that your grandfather should dismiss me?' he
enquired lazily,

'How right you ate!' She faced him defiantly, her chin up, eyes sparkling.

He shrugged. 'You can always try, Eleni-'

'And please don't cal me that- It—it's familiar.'

'Which is of course unthinkable,' he said solemnly. But he was amused, and she knew

he was, arid it infuriated her.

'How the hel did you get into my room anyway? Surely the staff wouldn't have

al owed ...'

'Oh, I can be very persuasive when I want. But in this case I didn't have to be. When I

left after attending to your—needs, I simply took your key with me.' He touched his

jacket pocket. 'I have it here.'

She held out her hand, 'Give it to me, please.'.

'Why? You won't need it again. We are leaving soon. As it is, I have had to telephone

your grandfather and tel
him we have been delayed.' He paused. 'He wasn't pleased,

and it is bad for him to suffer any agitation.'

'And I suppose you made haste to tel him it was al my fault,' she said with heavy

irony.

'I told him merely that you have been tired by your journey from England, and that the

heat had affected you. I did not tel him you had been mad enough co try and explore

the Acropolis in the ful blaze of noon without al owing yourself to become in any way

acclimatized. Michael Korialis is not one of those who— to use your English phrase—

suffer fools gladly, and I didn't wish you to make a bad impression immediately.'

She gave him an outraged look. 'The implication being that I'l make one eventual y.'

'I think it is inevitable. You are wil ful, disobedient, and have a sharp tongue, and none

of these are attributes to appeal to a man who adheres to the old ways like your

grandfather. You have a lot to learn about Greece and its men, Eleni.'

'I'd prefer to have no more lessons from you,' she said baldly.

He smiled. 'As you plan to have me dismissed as soon as we get to Phoros, there wil be

little opportunity for such lessons,' he said smoothly, but his dark eyes held an odd

glint, and Helen bit her lip in sudden uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn't have clashed

with him quite so openly, Her grandfather had obviously given him a great deal of

power, and it had gone to his head. But it might have been better to have waited to

declare her enmity until they were safely on Phoros. But she'd not been able to help