servants here?’
‘I have a cleaning lady who comes in sometimes, but I prefer to be alone. Most of the house is shut up, and I just use a couple of rooms.’
‘What made you come here now?’
‘I needed to think,’ he said, regarding her significantly. ‘Since we met…I don’t know…everything should have been simple…’
‘But it never has been,’ she mused. ‘I wonder if we can make things simple by wanting it.’
‘No,’ he said at once. ‘But if you have to fight—why not? As long as you know what you’re fighting for.’
‘Or who you’re fighting,’ she pointed out.
‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about who we’ll be fighting,’ he said.
‘Each other. Yes, it makes it interesting, doesn’t it? Exhausting but interesting.’
He laughed and she pounced on it. ‘I love it when you laugh. That’s when I can claim a victory.’
‘You’ve had other victories that maybe you don’t know about.’ He added with a touch of self-mockery, ‘Or maybe you do.’
‘I think I’ll leave you to guess about that.’
‘It would be a mistake for me to underestimate you, wouldn’t it?’
‘Definitely.’
Briefly she thought, if only he were always like this, charming and open to her. But she smothered the thought at once. A man who was always charming was like a musician who could only play one note. Eventually it became tedious. Lysandros was fascinating because she never knew who he was going to be from one moment to the next. And nor did he know with her, which kept them both on alert. Could anything be more delightful?
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ he said.
‘I’m not.’
‘I mean I’m sorry I didn’t wait until you were better.’
‘Listen, if you’d had the self-control to wait I’d have taken it as a personal insult. And then I would have made you sorry.’
He gave her a curious look. ‘I think you will one day, in any case,’ he said.
‘Perhaps we should both look forward to that.’
She rose, reaching out to take some plates to the sink, but he forestalled her. ‘Leave it to me.’
‘There’s no need to fuss me like an invalid.’ She laughed. ‘I really can do things for myself.’
His reply was a look of sadness. ‘All right,’ he said after a moment.
‘Lysandros, honestly—’
‘I just wish you’d let me give you something—do things for you—’
Heart-stricken, she touched his face, blaming herself for being insensitive.
‘I didn’t want to be a nuisance,’ she whispered. ‘You have so many really important things to do.’
He put his arms right around her and drew her close against him.
‘There’s nothing more important than you,’ he said simply.
Later she was to remember the way he’d held her and wonder at it. It hadn’t been the embrace of a lover, more the clasp of a refugee clinging onto safety for dear life. He couldn’t have told her more clearly that she’d brought something into his life that was more than passion—more life-enhancing while he had it, more soul-destroying if he lost it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
W HEN the washing-up was done Petra asked, ‘What are we going to do today?’
‘You’re going to rest.’
‘I think a little gentle exercise will be better for me. I could continue exploring the cellar—’
‘No!’ This time there was no doubt that he meant it. ‘We can have a short outing, an hour on the beach, and lunch, then back here for you to rest.’
‘Anything you say.’
Lysandros regarded her cynically.
There was a small car in the garage and he drove them the short distance to the shore, where they found a tiny beach, cut off from the main one and deserted.
‘It’s private,’ Lysandros explained. ‘It belongs to a friend of mine. Don’t stretch out in this burning sun, not with your fair skin. Do you want to get ill?’
He led her to the rocks, where there was some shade and a small cave that she used for changing. Now she was glad she’d had the forethought to bring a
‘I have a cleaning lady who comes in sometimes, but I prefer to be alone. Most of the house is shut up, and I just use a couple of rooms.’
‘What made you come here now?’
‘I needed to think,’ he said, regarding her significantly. ‘Since we met…I don’t know…everything should have been simple…’
‘But it never has been,’ she mused. ‘I wonder if we can make things simple by wanting it.’
‘No,’ he said at once. ‘But if you have to fight—why not? As long as you know what you’re fighting for.’
‘Or who you’re fighting,’ she pointed out.
‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about who we’ll be fighting,’ he said.
‘Each other. Yes, it makes it interesting, doesn’t it? Exhausting but interesting.’
He laughed and she pounced on it. ‘I love it when you laugh. That’s when I can claim a victory.’
‘You’ve had other victories that maybe you don’t know about.’ He added with a touch of self-mockery, ‘Or maybe you do.’
‘I think I’ll leave you to guess about that.’
‘It would be a mistake for me to underestimate you, wouldn’t it?’
‘Definitely.’
Briefly she thought, if only he were always like this, charming and open to her. But she smothered the thought at once. A man who was always charming was like a musician who could only play one note. Eventually it became tedious. Lysandros was fascinating because she never knew who he was going to be from one moment to the next. And nor did he know with her, which kept them both on alert. Could anything be more delightful?
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ he said.
‘I’m not.’
‘I mean I’m sorry I didn’t wait until you were better.’
‘Listen, if you’d had the self-control to wait I’d have taken it as a personal insult. And then I would have made you sorry.’
He gave her a curious look. ‘I think you will one day, in any case,’ he said.
‘Perhaps we should both look forward to that.’
She rose, reaching out to take some plates to the sink, but he forestalled her. ‘Leave it to me.’
‘There’s no need to fuss me like an invalid.’ She laughed. ‘I really can do things for myself.’
His reply was a look of sadness. ‘All right,’ he said after a moment.
‘Lysandros, honestly—’
‘I just wish you’d let me give you something—do things for you—’
Heart-stricken, she touched his face, blaming herself for being insensitive.
‘I didn’t want to be a nuisance,’ she whispered. ‘You have so many really important things to do.’
He put his arms right around her and drew her close against him.
‘There’s nothing more important than you,’ he said simply.
Later she was to remember the way he’d held her and wonder at it. It hadn’t been the embrace of a lover, more the clasp of a refugee clinging onto safety for dear life. He couldn’t have told her more clearly that she’d brought something into his life that was more than passion—more life-enhancing while he had it, more soul-destroying if he lost it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
W HEN the washing-up was done Petra asked, ‘What are we going to do today?’
‘You’re going to rest.’
‘I think a little gentle exercise will be better for me. I could continue exploring the cellar—’
‘No!’ This time there was no doubt that he meant it. ‘We can have a short outing, an hour on the beach, and lunch, then back here for you to rest.’
‘Anything you say.’
Lysandros regarded her cynically.
There was a small car in the garage and he drove them the short distance to the shore, where they found a tiny beach, cut off from the main one and deserted.
‘It’s private,’ Lysandros explained. ‘It belongs to a friend of mine. Don’t stretch out in this burning sun, not with your fair skin. Do you want to get ill?’
He led her to the rocks, where there was some shade and a small cave that she used for changing. Now she was glad she’d had the forethought to bring a
Similar Books
