There was still that quiet smile about him when he asked, his manners perfectly charming, `And may I be permitted to call you Clare?'
`Please do,' she said eagerly, only just stopping herself from gushing all over him that he seemed ready to forget she had been giving him a close inspection.
`You will excuse me getting on with my work, I hope,' he said, `but I shall be taking a few days off ...' He left the rest unsaid, and she felt guilty again, this time because, with his high sense of family, he was going to leave his work to take her to the island where her brother lay ill.
`Why don't you try and get some sleep?' he suggested, and for the first time teasing. 'I promise I shall wake you when we land.'
Unused to smiling freely, Clare's lips were tormented apart, and she wondered if she'd done something wrong, if she wasn't supposed to smile when teased, for his brow came down in a frown as he looked at her. Then the frown disappeared, and he said coolly:
'Or perhaps you would care for some refreshment?'
He's fed up with me, she thought, as she saw his eyes flick to his paper work. She resolved there and then that he wouldn't even know she was aboard until the time came for him to tell her they had touched down at the airport in Athens.
'I think I'll sleep for a while,' she told him with quiet dignity, and closed her eyes.
It was perhaps an hour, two hours later, that a feeling of something threatening her had Clare's eyes coming open. They stayed open, a dreadful fear shooting through her. For Lazar Vardakas was bending over her, his face close, nothing about this hard-eyed, dark, unsmiling man to remind her of the charming man Who had escorted her on board. This man wore the look of the—devil!
She shrank away as far back as her seat would allow, her eyes haunted, terror-filled, her heart set up a hammering of panic. Too late she realised she had been wrong to trust him. This man meant her harm!
The exclamation, 'No!' ripped from her hoarse throat.
Lazar Vardakas looked mildly surprised at the note of fear that reached him, then he smiled and became again the kind, charming man who had called at her home to tell her about Kit. And she knew it must have been a trick of the light that had made him seem so terrifying. She felt ashamed to be such a panicky creature, especially when he said in comforting tones:
'I promised to wake you—we are about to land.'
Clare sat sick with embarrassment wandering what he thought of her mind, while, unperturbed, he fastened her seat belt before returning to his seat to do up his own.
He seemed to be well known at the airport and saw her through passport control with the minimum of fuss, a firm hand beneath her elbow as he escorted her outside to wait while he unlocked the door of a Mercedes convertible.
A puzzled frown creased her brow. Somehow she had expected Athens airport to be bigger than this. But she had been placed in the passenger seat, their luggage stowed before she found her voice to comment on it, and by then he had the car in motion and was pulling away.
'The airport was smaller than I imagined it would be,' she said shyly, trying to get over the feeling of having made a fool of herself just before they landed, and wondering as she spoke if he was the type of driver who preferred his passengers to stay quiet. He didn't answer straight away and she felt her conscious effort to overcome her feelings rebuffed, deciding she wouldn't speak again unless he said something.
And then he said, 'I expect you are feeling a little disorientated,' going on easily as he directed the car into open country, `One minute you were tucked up in the land of dreams and very shortly afterwards you find you are landing in a country new to you. You haven't been to Greece before?' he thought to ask.
'No,' she confessed, and wanted to say she had always wanted to visit his country, only she didn't in case he thought she was gushing. Then thinking her reply had been too brief, needed something tacking on, she saw dawn was about to break and that they had soon got away from residential buildings, and said, 'I expected Athens to be more built up than this.'
A pause followed her innocent statement, and for no reason she could think of she felt a finger of fear reach out and stab at her. Determined not to give in to it—look what an idiot she had made of herself before!—she turned slightly in her seat to look at him. Alarm grabbed at her again to see his face was a mask of coldness. And then that finger of fear became a hand, a hand that gripped and had fear taking a tight hold. For his good-looking face looked darkly hostile and as threatening as it had on the plane, and all she wanted to do then was to get out of the car, to get out and run away from him.
He must have become aware she was looking at him, for the mask of coldness vanished. He turned his head to smile gently, and she was comforted again, the realisation coming that he couldn't have slept at all since there had still been some involved-looking figure work on that side table in the plane prior to him putting it in his briefcase when she had woken up. Of course his face was stern when he wasn't looking at her; he needed to keep his tiredness at bay, to concentrate on his driving.
He was looking to the road ahead when casually he said, `We didn't land at Hellinikon—Athens.'
'Oh,' she said in surprise, but reassured by his casual tone as much as the fact he was now being the charming Lazar Vardakas who had personally called at her home to speak to her father.
'We landed at Micra airport, Thessaloniki,' he enlightened her. `Salonika,' he made the small translation from Greek.
Clare was silent for a moment, trying to place Salonika from her readings of Greece. `We're in the north, then?'
`That's right,' he said briefly, not commenting that she knew that much about his country for all she had never been there.
The island he owned must be more easily accessible from Salonika, she thought, than from Athens. That was before she thought -she must be as disorientated as he had said, because Kit had made his way to the island from Athens. Though Lazar had said he didn't know if Kit had made his own way there or if he had gone withhis brother, so perhaps Kit had fancied himself as a yachtsman and had hired a boat for a whole day to explored further and further into the waters of the north.
She thought about it some more, then finally gave up worrying at it. She had complete trust in Lazar Vardakas; not many men would have been so family-minded as to do what he had done. She just knew she could trust him to get her to Kit by the quickest route possible. Though that did prompt a question, since they had been driving for what must be an hour, the sun the most delightful orange ball in the sky, that for all she caught glimpses of the sea, so they must be driving along a coast road, Lazar had made no move to turn into any sort of harbour where he might have a boat.
`Do we have to hire a boat to get to your island, Lazar?' She tacked his name on the end because she wanted him to see how good her feelings were towards him, and he had asked her to use it, after. all.
'I have a boat of my own at the villa,' he said with a brief glance in her direction before his eyes went once more to the road ahead.
She felt awful badgering him with questions, but had to ask, `Are we going to your villa, then?'
`Yes,' he said.
'I see.'
What did she see? They were going to his villa. He had a boat there that would take them to the island of Niakos. Well, that was all right, though since he must be tired and the boat journey could take several more hours, she felt guilty about exhausting him further, for all he looked to be superbly fit.
`You'll rest awhile before we carry on—to your island, I mean?'
`I think so, if you can bear to wait. I will ring Aeneas as soon as we get to the villa to find out how your brother is.' -
'Thank you,' she said politely, thinking how kind he was to think of telephoning, knowing how anxious she must be.
'I have had a room prepared for you at the villa,' Lazar went on. `I think you too should have a few hours' sleep before we continue our journey.'
Clare remained silent, her admiration for the man at her side growing. W
ere all Greeks as thoughtful as him? He must have telephoned his villa, or got Aeneas to do it for him, as soon as he had heard the news. Possibly there were rooms prepared and waiting at the villa just in case he returned with both her father and Bruce.
Admitting to feeling weary herself, she wondered if he would like her to talk to him to keep him awake the way her father did when he had been at the wheel for a long time. But search round in her mind though she did for something to say, she was so unused to making conversation with strangers, she couldn't find anything, so she stayed quiet until the thought came to wonder what work he did. Hoping he wouldn't think it an intrusion, she asked:
`You work very hard, don't you?' then, stammering because that sounded a bit blunt, `I—I mean, you were working in the plane.' She wished she hadn't got started and felt herself go pink. He had already told her he had been working then because with the accident to Kit he was taking a few days off. Her family would never be out of his debt. She tried again, forcing herself to go on. `M-might I enquire what sort of work you do?'
For a moment she had a dreadful feeling she had overstepped the mark of politeness, for all she thought it was a fairly average question.
`Shipping,' he said, then, 'We have arrived.'
And as Clare looked out he spun the wheel and drove some way down a hilly sweeping drive. The drive had a variety of trees either side of it, some she recognised as olive trees. There were bright red bushes and shrubs interspersed every now and then, and when trees and shrubs ended, she had a view of beautiful green lawns before Lazar swung the car round in front of a villa which was not at all as she had imagined. It covered only one floor, but it was vast!
Lazar helped her out of the car, greeting a Greek male servant who came hurrying out to them. Lazar exchanged some words in Greek with him, then took her indoors where he introduced Phoebe who was the male servant's, Rasmus's, wife.
`You wish for something to eat and drink?' Lazar enquired, ready, she saw, to give instruction to Phoebe lor anything she wanted.
But Clare had got round to thinking she had put him to enough trouble, though she was anxious for him to make his call to see how Kit was.
'No, nothing, thank you,' she said, smiling shyly to Phoebe, who was dressed all in black.
Lazar said something to dismiss Phoebe, his eyes noting Rasmus go by with her suitcase, then he took hold of her arm. 'I will take you to your room,' he said, and with a smile that warmed her, for she was feeling ready to wilt suddenly. `Might I suggest you will rest better if you get into bed?'
It was a good suggestion, and she smiled gratefully at him for making it. On their way they passed Rasmus
coming back again, then Lazar was opening a door and guiding her inside a spacious, well appointed room.
'I hope you will be comfortable here,' he said formally, to which she answered she was certain she would be. Though she wanted badly to remind him about the telephone call he had promised to make.
'I will leave you now to telephone Niakos,' he said, just as though he could read her mind, and she was alone.
Not wanting to undress, thinking that at any moment Lazar would come back to tell her how Kit was, Clare wandered about the room, liking its good quality furniture, its full-length window that slid back also acting as a door. The view was gorgeous, giving a panoramic vista of a beach and behind it the wide expanse of the Aegean Sea. She gazed her fill for some minutes, then turning back into the room she noticed that besides the door she had come in by, there were two other doors in the room.
Her curiosity aroused, she opened first the one door and saw it was a luxuriously fitted bathroom, complete with shower unit and a deep sunken bath of sea green. Closing the door, she crossed the room, and with a tentative hand opened the other door.
It was another bedroom—a bedroom that communicated with her own ! There was a lock on the door, but no key, she saw after a hurried inspection. Her heartbeats started up a familiar frightened hammering as her eyes took in that the room housed a double bed, and that the bed had been made up. Who slept there? Agitatedly she knew she would never get into the bed that had been made ready for her until she discovered who.
A sound by the outer door had her spinning round.Lazar stood there, nothing on his face but the sort of respect she thought he would have for any guest. Her heartbeats steadied. As her panic went, so rational thought came, and she smiled one of her rare smiles. Of course—Lazar had been prepared for both her father and Bruce. It was just his natural thoughtfulness to put father and son close together. She closed the communicating door, hoping Lazar didn't think she had been prying, then she forgot about the other room as she realised he had come to tell her the result of his telephone call.
'Is Kit ... How is he?'
`Much better,' said Lazar, meeting her half way · across the carpet, and allowing her a small smile. 'You have nothing to worry about. Your brother regained consciousness about an hour ago and asked for a bacon and egg breakfast.'
Totally reassured, for Kit loved his food above all else, Clare sent Lazar a beaming smile that lit her whole face and made her truly beautiful. 'Oh, thank you!' she cried, and felt so choked suddenly she was afraid she might make a fool of herself and begin to cry.
The expression on Lazar's face stopped her. For he was staring at her as though transfixed, his eyes going to her mouth with an expression that looked to her as if he was anticipating what it would feel like to have the feel of her mouth against his.
Alarm bells jangled violently in her head so that she thought she was going to faint. She clutched at the end of the bed, backing away from him, his face swinging in front of her. His voice coming from a long way off, but sounding so natural, brought her round again.
'You are more tired than you know, I think,' he said evenly. 'In fact you seem to be ready to collapse from
tiredness. Would you like me to summon Phoebe to help you into bed?'
Clare looked at him and could hardly believe tiredness had so warped her imagination that she had thought she had seen that look on his face. For his face now bore the ghost of a comforting smile, nothing of ill intent there at all, and again she was embarrassed by her imagination.
'No. No, thank you. I can manage quite well on my own,' she said.
'If you are sure,' he said courteously, and then left her.
Extracting her nightdress from her case, Clare allowed herself a wry smile. The best thing she could do would be to get into that delicious-looking bed and sleep some of her imagination away. It was daylight now, and she was safe in Lazar's villa. Her smile turned into a grin. What a muttonhead she -was! She was as safe with Lazar as if she was back in the arms of her family. With that comforting thought in her mind, she climbed into bed, and not long afterwards she was sound asleep.
It was midday when she awoke and she felt better for her five hours' sleep. Then she remembered she should have put her watch on by two hours, only it had slipped her mind. Quickly she moved the hand round on her watch, then hurried out of bed to wash and dress in one of the loose-fitting Victorian print type dresses she had brought with her.
She had no idea how long it would take them to get to the island, though she suspected, since she couldn't recall there being too many islands in Northern Greece, that it might take some hours for them to get to the island of Niakos. Lazar wouldn't be very pleasedto be kept hanging around because she was such a liea-bed, she thought, hurrying from her room and wishing he had sent Phoebe to awaken her.
She met Phoebe in the hall, who seeing she looked lost, smiled shyly and by sign language directed her to a room off the hall which Clare found to be a dining room.
As she had thought, Lazar was not very pleased she had slept so long. She saw him immediately she went into the dining room. He was sitting at a table, his empty coffee cup telling her he had just finished his meal, and his expression when he saw her, she thought, was downright forbidding.
Taking her courage in both hands, she approached him, rushing into ab
ject apology. 'I'm so sorry—so sorry to have kept you waiting all this time. I had no idea I would sleep so,' the word, `long,' tailed off into a whisper as she saw his eyes were cynically going over her. Her earnest expression, the fresh and innocent look of her, were lost on him as he appraised her sourly.
Oh dear, she thought, he's furious because I've kept him waiting. After having to drop everything to run round after her family, he was livid that she hadn't had the courtesy to take no more than just a catnap. But she couldn't help it. She hadn't known she had been so tired. Though since her two previous nights hadn't been all that restful, her sleep was bound to have needed catching up on some time.
Without getting to his feet Lazar unhooked a chair from beneath the table, an unspoken invitation for her to sit down as he continued to give her the same unsmiling look. She took the chair and sat primly, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
'I'm so dreadfully sorry,' she began again, and bit her lip nervously that he didn't look ready to accept her apology. 'You've been so kind,' she forced herself to go on, 'and have gone to an enormous amount of trouble, when really you could just as well not have bothered with me.' Inwardly she sighed, knowing she had badly offended his Greek code of common courtesy. 'Perhaps,' she suggested timidly, 'when you've finished your lunch' She could see he already had, but was trying desperately to be tactful and not offend him further. But Kit had to be her first priority, she sorely wanted to see him. 'Perhaps when you're ready you could take me to see my brother? He must be ...'
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