Stormy the Way (16 page)

Tara shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. His eyes became keenly perceptive. Perceptive of what? she wondered bewilderedly.

'I did think you'd be going away before then,' she murmured lamely at length.

'You would like me to be going away more often?' Subtle the tone, and he waited with a strange sort of interest for her reply.

Another careless shrug and then,

'It doesn't matter to me one way or the other, Leon.'

'You've suddenly become totally indifferent to me, is that it?'-

She gave a start, but recovered instantly.

'I've never been anything else,' she retorted coldly. 'You told me why you married me, and you know why I married you, so there can't be anything other than indifference - on both sides, can there?' She was still very pale, and the hand resting on the table moved a little convulsively, the smooth skin tightening over the knuckles now and then. Leon's eyes dropped, and he watched this movement for a moment in silence, his dark eyes narrowed.

'I know why you married me...His voice was low almost to a whisper and she made no intrusion into his thoughts. 'I believe I said you'd married me for my money.'

'That's right.' Tara picked up her cup, discovered that her coffee was cold, and returned the cup to its saucer, pushing it from her to the side of the table.

'And did you, Tara?' he questioned softly, and once again she gave a start. What was he getting at?

'Of course,' defensively and with a swift lowering of her long lashes in an attempt at quick escape from those piercing, all-seeing eyes.

'What other reason could there be? As you yourself said, you had more money than Paul, so from my point of view, the exchange was most profitable.'

Silence. She glanced up, to see an expressionless mask. But the lines from nose to mouth were slightly more pronounced than usual, and there was an arrogant and almost harsh curve to his mouth.

'You speak far too freely for your safety,' he warned with a darkling glint as his eyes met hers. 'Our women are not permitted to treat their husbands with such disrespect,'

Her chin went up.

'I am not a Greek,' she reminded him softly. 'And in any case, I spoke only the truth. I expect I'm allowed to do that?'

'The truth, eh?' He paused a moment, reflectively, then added, watching her closely, 'You spoke just now of indifference; can you say you've been totally indifferent to me, Tara?'

She gazed out to the dramatic silhouette of the mountain summits of the Argolid, moonlit bathed against a purple sky, her mind irresistibly drawn from the aloneness of her hurt and misery to those nights of sheer bliss when she had been one with her husband. How could she lie to him? And yet she must - for the sake of her pride.

'I cannot recall any particular occasion when I was not totally indifferent to you,' she began, then stopped, her lie cut short by the sharp exclamation emitted from her husband's angry lips. Swift as lightning he rose and without warning she was wrenched to her feet.

'You can't? Well, let's see if we can
create
an occasion when you're not totally indifferent to me!' His mouth came down even as he crushed her slender body to him.

'Let me go—!'

'When I'm ready!' he cut in harshly, and his lips found hers again, cruel and ruthless in their primitive possession. She tried to struggle, then abandoned the futile use of her strength. But her clenched fists were fastened against his chest and she felt his heart beating rapidly and sensed desire in every sensual movement of his body - one hand as it slid to her back under the shoulder strap of her dress, the other as it sought the place where her own heart was beating with almost painful speed; the sheer possessive pressure of his hard and sinewed frame. His intention was clear, but although she tried with every degree of mental strength she possessed she knew his power over her emotions and desires would in the end crush all resistance. And it did she sensed his triumph as her body went limp and her lips parted eagerly to receive his kisses. Carried on the tide of his passion, she thrust away the lurking self- condemnation and criticism at her weakness. The moment was for living; what had gone before and what was to come later had no meaning, and her arm slid round his neck when, lifting her right off her
feet,
he carried her with ease and mastery up to her bedroom. 'Well,' he said with the arrogance of the victor as he put her down, 'can you still look at me and say you are totally indifferent to me?'

She coloured hotly arid despite her awakened desire for him she would undoubtedly have flung at him some caustic reply, but, anticipating this, Leon caught her to him and any words she would have liked to utter were smothered by his kiss.

'It's dangerous to lie to a Greek,' he told her presently when, although still imprisoned by his firm hold upon her arms, he held her from him.

'We have our own methods of dealing with obstinate females - and those methods can be painful,' he added darkly, 'so take care.'

This was too much. Pliable under his unconquerable power she might be, but she was no meek and spineless woman otherwise. Wrenching herself away despite the pain it caused and the bruises it was to leave on her arms, she ran to the communicating door and swung it open.

Once through it she slammed it closed, and turned the key. Breathless and trembling, she stood with her back against the door, terrified as she awaited her husband's reaction. And it was only when several uneventful moments had passed that she realized she had actually been allowed to escape. Leon could quite easily have caught her and dragged her back into her room, had he wished. It was plain, then, that he didn't really want her.

This realization left her empty, drained of all except v.. was it disappointment? Furiously shaking off this preposterous idea, she moved over to the other door and turned that key also, even though she was quite convinced by this time that locking herself in was quite unnecessary. But she was in Leon's room, and he m hers; she had no night clothes to wear and neither had he. She listened, but heard nothing. Perhaps he had gone downstairs again, she thought, wondering if she dared unfasten the door and take a look. Better not, she at last decided and, getting undressed, she slipped into Leon's bed.

To her surprise she soon found herself dozing and when she awoke the following morning quite refreshed, she was more than a little astonished that she could have slept so soundly. Had Leon slept? She vindictively hoped he had not.

She bathed in his bathroom, but had only her long dress to put on, and as this seemed absurd she ventured to knock on the communicating door and then turn the key.

'Come in.'

Feeling somewhat foolish, in the clear light of day, Tara pushed the door inwards and stood there for a space before moving forward.

Leon was leant on one elbow, reading, just as he had been on their wedding night. He lowered his book and regarded her mockingly from his most comfortable position against her snow-white pillows.

'I want my clothes,' she mumbled almost inaudibly, wrapping Leon's huge dressing-gown over at the front as it was about to fall open. 'If -

if you don't mind - I mean,' she added awkwardly, 'I'm sorry to disturb you.' What was the matter with her? she wondered irritably. Why couldn't she be as haughty as he? - or as cool, or mocking? All her plans involving her husband seemed to be half-hearted - the plan to leave him had been amended several times, and last evening's decision to treat him with cool indifference had collapsed within minutes of his taking her into his arms. This was what love did; it conquered all else with its potency and strength.

'You're not disturbing me,' he assured her affably, waving a hand towards her wardrobe. 'Help yourself; it's your room.'

Slowly she went to the wardrobe and took out what she wanted. Then she opened a drawer and found clean underwear.

'Thank you. ...' She turned, but his voice stopped her.

'Come here.'

She came round again, finding herself deliberately groping for snatches of the conversation she had had with Helena. She desired only to breed a little hatred for her husband - just sufficient to provide her with some protection against his power.

'What do you want?' She was remembering that Helena had said she had slept here - dozens of times. In this bed? wondered Tara. Or was it in Leon's? Both were large enough for two... .

'Why the great distance?' with sudden satirical amusement. 'Afraid of me?'

She frowned at this, temper rising.

'Is this a game, Leon?' she asked, managing to inject an icy inflection into her voice. 'If so, I find it far from amusing.'

His dark eyes glinted suddenly; she remembered the anger and harshness that had flared last evening, and she found herself waiting for it to happen again. His lips were tight and a movement in his cheek denoted a muscle out of control. What an unpredictable man he was! Even if he could have loved her, and they could have entered into a normally happy marriage, life would always be precarious; there would always be fear to offset the joy.

'You'll find it even less amusing if you don't take care,' he said softly at length. 'I warned you last night Ours is a patriarchal society, as I've told you before. You'll have to learn that you have acquired not only a husband, but a master. You're not in England now, and the sooner you resign yourself to our customs the more comfortable you'll feel.'

Fury rose like an unleashed volcano. The only handy thing to throw at him was his shoe, there beside the dressing-table. It went hurtling over to him, hit the bedside lamp, which exploded, then, missing his raised, protecting hand by inches, it crashed against the bedhead and dropped on to the white satin coverlet.

'There!' she cried, backing to lengthen the distance between them.

'That's what I think of your patriarchal society! Master indeed!

Resign myself! Never in a hundred years! It's you who'll have to resign yourself - to the fact that I'm your equal - equal, do you hear?'

She was at the door, but with what seemed no more than one single leap her husband was-off the bed and had grasped her wrist. She was shaken mercilessly, and for one incredulous second she thought he would hit her also. White to the lips, and staunching the tears only by the greatest effort, she stood there when he released her, his dressing-gown hanging off her bare shoulders, revealing alluring and delicate curves which caught and held his attention for a very brief spell before, catching her to him, he sought these curves with his lips.

'You're even more desirable when you're in a fury,' he said thickly, leaving her curves to seek her mouth. 'I let you go last night, but now

... now, my adorable wife, you're just asking to be loved!'

A few hours later Tara was answering the telephone, her husband having gone off immediately after lunch to work in his study.

'Paul...? Is something wrong?'

'Is Leon there?' The voice came softly from the other end of the line. 'I did ask Savvas and he said Leon was working in his study. That's right, is it? The coast is clear?'

Frowning, Tara said yes, Leon was in his study, and asked again, Ts something wrong?'

'No - not really. But listen, Tara. Leon has been on to me, wanting to know more about our engagement. He seemed to think there was something phoney about it.'

'He did? What exactly did he say to you?' Astute as her husband was, it had never entered Tara's head that the time might come when he would stop to think more deeply about that engagement. He had said more than once that she puzzled him, and now she came to dwell on this it seemed quite feasible that his mind should follow an investigating path, finding new thoughts and testing them - weighing them against the doubts that had begun to creep in.

'He phoned me last week, and began asking questions—'

'Last week? Then why didn't you get in touch with me before this?'

CI tried to, but each time I rang Leon answered the phone, so I had to hang up. Yesterday and the day before it was impossible to get through; I think theremust have been something wrong with the line.

Anyway, that's not important now that I've got you at last. For heaven's sake, Tara, don't spill the beans, will you - no matter how much he questions you? I was scared that you'd already have done so, but obviously you haven't. He's not questioned you, then?'

'No; he hasn't said a word. You've not told me what he said to you,'

she went on to remind him.

'He asked how we met and I had to remember the lies we told. Then he said it was very odd that I hadn't been upset about it when you broke it off. He wanted to know how it was that I got engaged to someone I didn't love.'

'You told him you did love me, at the time?'

'I did, but somehow I felt it wasn't convincing. He sounded most sceptical about the whole thing, and when I wanted to know what it was all about - why he was asking all these questions - he said, in a most curious kind of tone, that you didn't strike him as the sort of girl who would look twice at a boy five years younger than yourself. I then got the impression that, at first, he had believed you'd intended marrying me for my money, but that he had now changed his ideas about this. It's so peculiar that he's said nothing to you. I expect you're quite happy together? I mean, he loves you - and you love him?'

'Of course—' She broke off, wondering whether or not to tell Paul the truth. But she decided against it, simply because there was nothing to be gained by such a confidence. But his information had set her thinking, and had it not been for the looming figure of Helena it could also have set her hopes soaring. For it was certainly significant that Leon should take the trouble to phone his brother in order to find out more about the engagement - the engagement which he had come to regard as so strange as not to be feasible. How puzzled he must be, she thought, but did wonder if he would eventually hit upon the truth.