me,' he said, unabashed. 'A cherished memento of
you, Zoe mou .'
'You have an answer for everything, don't you?' she said bitterly.
'Not yet,' he said. 'But I live in hope.' He allowed her to digest that, then
inclined his head, cool y and courteously. ' Kalinichta, agapi mou . Until
tomorrow.'
She said in a stifled voice, 'Goodnight,' and walked away, threading her way
between the tables, hardly aware any more of the curious and speculative
glances coming her way.
Once in her room, she kicked off her sandals and fel , face down, across the
bed, burying her face on her folded arms.
And I'm going to spend the day with him tomorrow, she groaned inwardly. I
must be crazy.
She tried to comfort herself with the reflection that it would give her the
opportunity to explore Thania with someone who knew the island and loved
it. But it was still a high-risk situation, and she knew it.
But he promised I'd be safe, she argued with herself, defensively.
No, came the uncompromising reply. He said he'd take nothing that you
didn't wish to give. That's entirely different.
And, as a guarantee, it was total y meaningless. Because he knew that she
wanted him, she realised, shocked. And he was confident that, with a little
time and patience, she'd be his. And of her own free wil , too.
Zoe sat up slowly, pushing her hair back from her face. That's why he didn't
make any move on me tonight, she told herself, bleakly. He knew I'd be
expecting him to escort me to my door—to try to kiss me goodnight at the
very least.
Yet he didn't. In fact, he hardly touched me.
Except once, she reminded herself, and she could stil feel the marks of his
fingers against her jaw as if she'd been branded there.
But during the dancing they'd always been divided by that sil y handkerchief.
No real physical contact at al .
This was clearly a game, she thought, for which he'd invented his own rules
a long time ago. And this worried her.
It was disturbing, too, to realise how little she still knew about him. True, it
hadn't been an evening for the exchange of confidences, but he seemed to
be becoming more of an enigma with every hour that passed.
But if he's a gardener, she thought, I'm Helen of Troy.
She could hear the faint sound of the music floating up to her. No doubt he'd
rejoined his Greek girl, and coaxed her back to smiles by now. Maybe she'd
even persuade him to spend tomorrow with her instead.
After al , they both live here, she told herself, whereas I—wel , I could just be
passing through.
She undressed and put on her wrap, then cleaned off the small amount of
make-up she was wearing, and brushed her hair. It was thick and silky, she
thought, shaking it back from her face, but it didn't make her a beauty.
Nothing could, although she supposed she was on the attractive side of
ordinary.
Just remember that, she told herself caustical y, and take the sweet talk with
a large pinch of salt.
If Andreas kept her hair clasp, she'd have to find another, she thought as
she put down the brush. But there'd been a shop sel ing crafts and jewel ery
in copper and pewter as wel as silver on the way up to the square. She
could look there.
If Andreas didn't come tomorrow…
She was tired, she wanted to sleep, but she couldn't switch off the constant
images passing and re-passing through her mind. The room felt stifling, too,
and the sheets seemed to graze her like sandpaper.
Eventually, she got up, put on her wrap again, and went out onto the
balcony. She sat lifting her face to the faint breeze from the harbour,
listening to the lap of the sea, and the creaking of the timber caiques at
anchor. There were no other sounds. The hotel lights were extinguished,
and the dancers had dispersed. Andreas too would be—somewhere. Not
alone, perhaps.
It shocked her to discover how much that possibility hurt. And how hard she
had to fight to block the image of Andreas, his naked skin dark against the
sheets of some woman's
you, Zoe mou .'
'You have an answer for everything, don't you?' she said bitterly.
'Not yet,' he said. 'But I live in hope.' He allowed her to digest that, then
inclined his head, cool y and courteously. ' Kalinichta, agapi mou . Until
tomorrow.'
She said in a stifled voice, 'Goodnight,' and walked away, threading her way
between the tables, hardly aware any more of the curious and speculative
glances coming her way.
Once in her room, she kicked off her sandals and fel , face down, across the
bed, burying her face on her folded arms.
And I'm going to spend the day with him tomorrow, she groaned inwardly. I
must be crazy.
She tried to comfort herself with the reflection that it would give her the
opportunity to explore Thania with someone who knew the island and loved
it. But it was still a high-risk situation, and she knew it.
But he promised I'd be safe, she argued with herself, defensively.
No, came the uncompromising reply. He said he'd take nothing that you
didn't wish to give. That's entirely different.
And, as a guarantee, it was total y meaningless. Because he knew that she
wanted him, she realised, shocked. And he was confident that, with a little
time and patience, she'd be his. And of her own free wil , too.
Zoe sat up slowly, pushing her hair back from her face. That's why he didn't
make any move on me tonight, she told herself, bleakly. He knew I'd be
expecting him to escort me to my door—to try to kiss me goodnight at the
very least.
Yet he didn't. In fact, he hardly touched me.
Except once, she reminded herself, and she could stil feel the marks of his
fingers against her jaw as if she'd been branded there.
But during the dancing they'd always been divided by that sil y handkerchief.
No real physical contact at al .
This was clearly a game, she thought, for which he'd invented his own rules
a long time ago. And this worried her.
It was disturbing, too, to realise how little she still knew about him. True, it
hadn't been an evening for the exchange of confidences, but he seemed to
be becoming more of an enigma with every hour that passed.
But if he's a gardener, she thought, I'm Helen of Troy.
She could hear the faint sound of the music floating up to her. No doubt he'd
rejoined his Greek girl, and coaxed her back to smiles by now. Maybe she'd
even persuade him to spend tomorrow with her instead.
After al , they both live here, she told herself, whereas I—wel , I could just be
passing through.
She undressed and put on her wrap, then cleaned off the small amount of
make-up she was wearing, and brushed her hair. It was thick and silky, she
thought, shaking it back from her face, but it didn't make her a beauty.
Nothing could, although she supposed she was on the attractive side of
ordinary.
Just remember that, she told herself caustical y, and take the sweet talk with
a large pinch of salt.
If Andreas kept her hair clasp, she'd have to find another, she thought as
she put down the brush. But there'd been a shop sel ing crafts and jewel ery
in copper and pewter as wel as silver on the way up to the square. She
could look there.
If Andreas didn't come tomorrow…
She was tired, she wanted to sleep, but she couldn't switch off the constant
images passing and re-passing through her mind. The room felt stifling, too,
and the sheets seemed to graze her like sandpaper.
Eventually, she got up, put on her wrap again, and went out onto the
balcony. She sat lifting her face to the faint breeze from the harbour,
listening to the lap of the sea, and the creaking of the timber caiques at
anchor. There were no other sounds. The hotel lights were extinguished,
and the dancers had dispersed. Andreas too would be—somewhere. Not
alone, perhaps.
It shocked her to discover how much that possibility hurt. And how hard she
had to fight to block the image of Andreas, his naked skin dark against the
sheets of some woman's
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