by Jessica Hart
‘You know, you’re a very restful person to be with,’ said Rhys unexpectedly.
‘Me?’ She was taken aback. ‘Am I?’
‘Most of the women I know—like Kate, or Lynda come to that—would be ordering the girls to leave the kittens alone. They’d be worrying about them picking up some nasty disease, and insisting that they did a complete tour of the site with the guide instead, and then organising lunch and fretting about what time we’d need to leave…’
He smiled at Thea. ‘I can’t tell you how much easier it is to come here with someone like you. You don’t worry about any of those things, or if you do, you keep it to yourself. You seem happy just to sit and absorb the atmosphere.’
‘I think that just means I’m lazy,’ said Thea with a rueful smile. ‘That’s what Harry used to say, anyway.’
He had used to say that a lot, she realised now she came to think about it. And he had hated the way she dressed. He was always trying to make her smarter, to get her to have her eyebrows shaped, and her hair highlighted. To look more like Isabelle, in fact. Why hadn’t she realised that before?
‘Restful sounds better than lazy, doesn’t it?’ said Rhys. ‘Restful, relaxing, easygoing…calm…’
Calm? Calm was the last thing Thea felt when she was near him.
‘Placid, boring, dull,’ she offered instead.
Rhys shook his head at her as he got up. ‘Thea Martindale, your self-confidence needs a lot of work!’ He held out a hand to help her to her feet. ‘I think you’d better stick with me until we can do something about that negative image you have of yourself.’
Thea looked at his hand for a moment before she took it and felt the by now familiar thrill run up her arm and settle with a shiver of pleasure deep inside her. And the equally familiar pang as he let her go.
‘I think I better had,’ she said.
Afterwards, looking back, Thea was amazed at how little time it took them to fall into a routine. The days drifted timelessly by. Whenever she thought about them later, each one seemed to be drenched in sunlight and permeated with the smell of thyme and dust, with cicadas whirring and clicking in the background.
If it had been up to them, Sophie and Clara would have spent every minute in the pool, but they usually let themselves be persuaded to go out, on condition that they could swim when they got back. It took several days of badgering for Rhys to get them to consider a walk and, after much grumbling and groaning, they agreed.
‘Just to shut you up,’ warned Thea, but actually, once she was out there, she loved it.
They walked along the bottom of the gorge, overhung by trees which provided cool shade splashed by patches of bright sunlight. The river bed was dry, and the girls clambered over boulders and dabbled their fingers in the occasional pool of water that remained, and forgot to moan about the fact that the batteries had run out in Clara’s portable CD player.
Another day, Rhys took them up into the mountains and they had a picnic on a rocky hillside, observed incuriously by a flock of goats. Careless of the dust, Thea lay back in the fragrant scrub and looked up at Rhys’s profile, outlined against the deep blue sky.
In the crystalline light, she could see the lines around his eyes and the first few grey hairs at his temple. She could see the texture of his skin, the crease in his cheek and the hint of stubble along his strong jaw, and when he turned his head to smile down at her, his eyes were warm and light.
‘Are you comfortable down there?’ he asked.
‘Very comfortable,’ said Thea, fighting the same vertiginous feeling that had swept over her at Knossos. At least this time she was lying down. If she closed her eyes, she would swear that she could feel the earth turning slowly beneath her.
It got harder and harder to remember Harry and how desperately unhappy she had been when he left and she had put her life on hold while he took the time to sort out how he really felt.
Much, much harder, too, to remember everything that she had decided about not getting involved with Rhys. Occasionally, Thea would remind herself that time was passing, even if it didn’t feel like it. The holiday would come to an end, and when these two weeks were over there would be no reason to pretend any more. No long, lazy days, no starlit nights on the terrace, just the two of them, while inside the girls gossiped and giggled.
No Rhys.
They talked easily, like old friends. Rhys talked about Sophie and about his determination to be a good father. He told Thea about his job and what it was like to stand on a dune in the middle of the Sahara and turn three hundred and sixty degrees and see nothing but sand and sky. He tried to explain his fascination for rocks, and she tried to explain her fascination for shoes. They laughed a lot, and they talked about everything really.
Everything except what would happen when the holiday ended.
Thea always shied away from thinking about that, and she would put it firmly out of her mind. How could she think about leaving when the sun was shining and Rhys was waiting for her on the terrace? She was afraid of thinking beyond the here and now, and of spoiling what they had.
Not that they ‘had’ anything. They might pretend to be lovers when they saw Kate or Nick at the pool, but they were just friends. There was no question of them being anything else with Sophie and Clara there in any case, and no indication that Rhys was even thinking about it. Thea told herself that it was just as well, and that friendship was enough.
Only it wasn’t, not really.
Rhys preferred to be out in the wild hills, but he was outnumbered by the girls and Thea, who liked the beach best, so he gave in with good grace and drove them down to the coast whenever they asked. They had a favourite beach, on a curving bay where the waves rolled gently in and sighed against the sand, and the sea was a deep turquoise colour and the water so clear that you could see the tiny fish that nibbled your toes if you dawdled too long in the shallows.
Clara and Sophie would run past them, shrieking, and throw themselves into the deep water, diving into the waves like seals. Thea would rather have liked to do the same, but didn’t think it would look very dignified.
They were there again towards the end of the second week, although Thea was in denial about the fact that they had only a couple of days left and refusing to even think about it. She stood on the edge of the water with Rhys, watching the girls dash in past the fish, and remembered the sharp little bite she had got last time instead.
‘Come on, let’s go in too,’ said Rhys and set off, only to stop when he realised that Thea was still safely on dry sand. ‘Aren’t you coming?’ he asked, apparently unbothered by the fact that the fish might be swarming towards him like mini piranhas even then.
‘Yes,’ said Thea, but she hesitated. She wished she hadn’t started thinking about swarming fish and their potential for a feeding frenzy.
‘Don’t tell me you’re scared of a few little fish, too!’
‘Certainly not.’ She put up her chin, and then dropped it as she met his amused gaze. ‘Well, not much, anyway. They can give you a very nasty nip, you know.’
Rhys laughed and splashed back through the shallows. Before Thea had realised what he had in mind, he had scooped her up and was heading back into the sea.
Instinctively linking her arms around his neck, she was torn between laughter and embarrassment and the excruciating awareness of his body against hers. His arm was under her knees, hers around his powerful shoulders and the meeting of bare skin was like an electric shock.
He carried her out to where the sand shelved away and paused. Thea thought that he was going to drop her in, and braced herself for the splash, tightening her arms around his neck.
‘Don’t,’ she begged, half breathless, half laughing.
‘Don’t what?’ he said, laughing down into her face.
‘Don’t throw me in. Please,’ she added, clutching him with a mock imploring look. ‘I’ll do anything!’
‘Anything?’
‘Yes! I promise!’
R
hys’s smile faded. ‘I’ll remember that,’ he said, and Thea’s own laughter evaporated along with the last of her breath as she found her eyes locked with his.
Very slowly, without taking his eyes from her face, he took his arm out from under her knees so that she slid down his body until her feet touched the bottom. They stood very close, her arms still wound around his neck, his hands strong and warm against her back, as the sea rocked gently around them, lapping Thea’s waist.
She stood stock-still, afraid to move in case he let her go. Kiss me, she willed him as his eyes darkened. Kiss me now. She knew that he wanted to, she could see it in his face, but of course he couldn’t kiss her, not here, not now, with the girls swimming over to join them.
But later, on the dark terrace, when the girls were asleep…he might kiss her then.
Please, please, please let him kiss her then.
As Sophie and Clara splashed up, Rhys let her go at last and turned to the girls, listening to them clamour for him to pick them up and throw them into the waves. Rather shakily, Thea swam further out to sea, well out of splash range, and floated on her back for a while as she tried to calm her thunderous pulse and the insistent booming of her body.
The waves rose and fell gently beneath her as they rolled into the shore, and Thea faced up to the truth at last. Being friends was not enough. She wanted him, ached for him, needed him. The sea was cool, like silk against her body, but she felt as if it should be steaming and sizzling around her, as she thought about running her hands over his shoulders, down his back, all over him, about feeling his skin against her, his mouth on her…
Desperately, Thea rolled over and trod water. She wished she could be like Sophie and Clara, who could clamber over him like puppies. She could hear their squeals of delight as Rhys swung them round and round before launching them into the deep water.
He was standing sturdily, his body braced to keep them safe. There was nothing obvious about him—ever—but he was toughly-built, strong yet contained and, to Thea right then, irresistible.
She could see the water droplets gleaming on his back and the wonderful sleek line of his shoulders. The sunlight on the water threw a rocking pattern of reflections over his skin, and his muscles rippled as he lifted Clara high in the air and tossed her into a wave. Sophie was already jumping beside him, wanting her turn again.
Lucky girls, thought Thea wistfully. They could keep the being thrown into the water bit, although that was obviously the highlight for them. All she wanted was to be held against him, to slide her arms around him and taste the salt on his skin.
All right, stop it now, Thea, she told herself sternly. She was getting carried away. This was just lust, a purely physical thing. Maybe she was seeing him in his swimming shorts too often? It was hard to avoid noticing that lean, strong body when you were on the beach. If she only ever saw him in a suit and tie, she probably wouldn’t be getting into this state.
But things were no better when they were dressed once more and she was sitting next to him in the car. In long trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, Rhys could hardly be accused of flaunting his body, and she still wanted to crawl over him, to press herself against him and feel his hands unlock her.
This was awful. Thea linked her fingers desperately together in her lap to stop them reaching out for him. If only Rhys would give some indication that he was feeling the same tug of attraction, she would feel better. At least then she might look forward to being alone with him later.
But, apart from that one moment when he had let her slide down his body and held her in the sea while he looked in her eyes, Rhys was behaving with intimidating normality.
He put the key in the ignition but didn’t switch it on, glancing at his watch instead and turning in his seat so that he could look at her and at the girls in the back seat at the same time.
‘It’s half past four,’ he said. ‘We don’t need to go back just yet. Why don’t we go on to Agios Nikolaos and have a look around there? It’s a nice old port. Maybe we could have some supper too? We’re having drinks with the Paines tomorrow night, so this is our last chance for a farewell bash.’
‘Will there be shops?’ asked Clara, leaning forward so that she could cross her arms on the back of his seat and focusing on essentials.
‘Lots, I should think.’
‘Good. I need to buy a present for Mum.’
Sophie had brightened as well. ‘I’ve got some money left, too. We could go shopping.’
‘Thea?’
Thea was still flinching from his casual reference to a farewell supper. Could they really only have one more day?
She forced a smile. ‘Shopping sounds good to me.’
‘And there was me thinking you’d be more interested in the restaurants,’ said Rhys, putting the car into gear. ‘Let me buy you a slap-up meal, anyway!’
Well, here was a turn up for the books. She, Thea Martindale, wasn’t hungry! She must have it bad if she had lost her appetite, Thea tried to joke herself out of it, but she couldn’t get rid of that sick little feeling that came with knowing that very soon she was going to have to say goodbye.
Agios Nikolaos was a bustling port, with ferries, cruise ships and gaily painted fishing boats jostling in the harbour, restaurants ranged along the waterfront and, to the girls’ delight, plenty of shops. It was early evening when they got there, and the town was bathed in a golden light as they wandered around.
Clara must have been into almost every shop before she was satisfied with a present for Nell, while Sophie gave the choice of a fridge magnet the same kind of attention Thea would a mortgage. More, probably.
Since she was there, Thea took the opportunity to buy a few presents, too, and told herself that shopping made her feel better. If she could only find a decent shoe shop, she would be almost herself again.
Rhys bore it all with commendable patience and finally managed to drag them away from the shops. They found a restaurant overlooking the small inner harbour where it was quieter, and the girls sat down long enough to compare their purchases over a Coke before they were itching to be off again.
‘I suppose it’s too much to expect you to sit still and converse nicely until the food arrives?’ said Thea, resigned.
‘Oh, please say we can, Thea!’ Clara wheedled, hugging her from behind. ‘We won’t go far.’
‘We might as well let them go,’ said Rhys. ‘They’ll just fidget otherwise.’
‘Thanks, Dad. Come on, Clara,’ said Sophie quickly, and the two of them ran off to explore before Thea could raise any further objections.
That left Thea alone with Rhys and unable to think of a single thing to say. Paralysed by a new kind of shyness, she concentrated on pulling a piece of bread apart and on trying to keep her eyes from crawling all over him.
She was excruciatingly aware of him, of the strong brown forearm resting easily on the tablecloth, of the fingers that curled around his glass. Of the broad wrist and the firm jaw and his mouth, especially his mouth. Her entire body was tense with the need to reach across the table and touch him, to remind herself that he was here and real, to store up the memory of how he felt before he was gone.
Her tongue felt as if it was stuck to the roof of her mouth as the silence stretched unbearably, but Rhys was unperturbed by it. He had pushed his chair back slightly so that he could watch the hustle and bustle around the harbour, and he looked utterly relaxed.
Utterly unconcerned by the fact that they would be going their separate ways very soon.
‘I’d forgotten we’d agreed to have drinks with the Paines tomorrow.’ Her voice sounded horribly stilted, but at least she had broken the awful silence. ‘I didn’t realise that would be our last night.’
‘Neither did I when Kate suggested it,’ Rhys admitted, ‘but she seemed so keen on meeting up that it was hard to say no. After all, we’ve got out of seeing them very successfully over the last couple of weeks.’
‘I suppose it won’t kill us to go and be pleasant
for an hour or two,’ Thea agreed. ‘I just hope Clara behaves herself. Kate’s not at all charmed by her. It’s obvious she thinks that Clara is a subversive influence around the pool.’
‘Yes, I’ve noticed Hugo and Damian have been a lot less well-behaved since your niece took charge of activities!’
Thea couldn’t help laughing, but that was a mistake. Their eyes met as he smiled, and the conversation promptly dried up once more.
Damn, and she had been doing so well sounding normal there for a while!
‘Dad!’ Fortunately Sophie was back, hanging off Rhys’s chair. ‘Dad, have you got two euros? We need two coins.’
‘What on earth for?’
‘We want to have a go on the Mouth of Truth.’ Sophie gestured across to where Clara was waiting impatiently beside a stone mask set into the wall. ‘It’s a hand analyser,’ she explained. ‘It reads your palm and you get a computer printout that tells you your fortune, and you can choose if it’s in Greek or English.’
‘Oh, well, that’ll be worth the money then,’ said Rhys with a sigh. ‘You do realise, don’t you, Sophie, that this printout will just be a random sample of total nonsense?’
‘Yes, yes…’ His daughter nodded, shifting from foot to foot, evidently not listening to a word. ‘But can we have a go?’
Rolling his eyes, Rhys dug in his pocket for two coins while Thea suppressed a smile, glad to have been distracted from that terrible tension. It was such a pleasure to see how Sophie had blossomed over the two weeks, she reflected. She had filled out, and now had a lovely golden glow to her, and her relationship with her father was transformed beyond recognition.
The girls were soon back, bearing sheets of computer printout. Sophie thrust hers at Rhys. ‘Can you read mine for me, Dad?’
Rhys sighed and fished the glasses he wore for reading and driving out of his shirt pocket. He settled them on his nose, looking over the rims at the girls with mock exasperation, and that was when it hit Thea.
There was an extraordinary moment of utter stillness, as if the world had simply stopped. The wooden boats rocking in the harbour, the boys on their skateboards, the waiter weaving his way through the tables, even Clara and Sophie waiting eagerly to hear what the printout said…all froze and faded in Thea’s consciousness, until there was just Rhys.