by Sara Wood
When she smiled, hope leapt in his chest. Her smile widened and lit her eyes till they gleamed like jewels.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, and a strange delirium hurtled through him.
Steady, he warned himself. But her palm lovingly shaped the contours of his chest and her mouth sucked delicately at his nipple. The familiar wildness came over him. Olivia would be his and his alone. Exulting, he lifted her head and drove his mouth hard on hers while his fingers slid to the tie of her bikini. Her hand closed over his.
‘Not here. Not with Eleni hovering in the background. I want us to go somewhere,’ she murmured, flushed and bright-eyed. ‘Somewhere romantic.’
He smiled and showered kisses on her face. ‘I know just the place,’ he breathed. ‘I’ll tell her we’re leaving. Get dressed and collect what you need. We’ll take a trip out in the boat away from here, away from Eleni and Mother. Just you and me, enjoying ourselves.’ His hungry mouth nibbled her warm shoulder. ‘The bonus is that it’ll look good, the two of us sneaking off together.’
It sounded wonderful. And perhaps it would be her opportunity to show him how much she loved him. They’d spend the day together, just as they used to. She wanted to remind him how comfortable they had been with one another. If she could revive that sense of belonging, of deep conviction that they had always been destined for one another, then he might realise what he would lose if he ever risked playing the field.
Her dreamy smile made her face radiant with happiness. It was quite possible that they might be together for ever, she thought. And let out a long, satisfied sigh.
‘I’d like that very much, Dimitri,’ she murmured. Winding her arms about his neck, she eyed him with open adoration and was rewarded by his indrawn breath. Her forefinger touched his mouth and he gently savaged it with his teeth. They would talk. Make love. Forget everything but the future. ‘Somewhere private,’ she whispered. ‘Where we can swim and…sunbathe.’ Closing her eyes, she let her soft lips close on his.
Briefly she felt the flicker of his tongue, and then he was gently unpicking her fingers. ‘Go,’ he said thickly. ‘I can’t wait.’
She shuddered, running an exploratory finger over his biceps and down his arm, her eyes holding his in a long, loving look. ‘I’ll be ten minutes,’ she whispered, joy lighting her face.
Hand in hand, they strolled to the harbour. She wore a simple sky-blue top with bootlace straps and a matching skirt that swirled about her legs. Dimitri looked edible in a cream open-necked shirt and chinos.
Joyfully she joined Dimitri in greeting the black-garbed women with merry eyes that they passed, and the wrinkled old men who drowsed in the sun on rickety chairs outside tiny cafés dripping with bougainvillaea.
‘Kronia pola,’ she said happily. Many years.
‘Epsis,’ they replied. And the same to you.
Olivia thought of the many years she might spend with Dimitri and couldn’t stop smiling.
Her senses seemed acute. She could smell garlic and lemon, and the sound of sizzling came from the small taverna on the quayside.
Her heart seemed to expand. This was where she wanted to be. This was the man she wanted to share the rest of her life with. Providing he committed himself to her.
A tremor of uncertainty collapsed her confidence, but when she looked up at him and he smiled down at her, squeezing her hand affectionately, she remembered his oath and told herself she was being unnecessarily neurotic.
In companionable silence they clambered on board his small motor launch, and Olivia stood with her arm around Dimitri’s waist while he eased a passage between the sturdy fishing boats.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, enjoying the wind whipping her hair back from her face.
He gazed down at her with heart-jerking affection. ‘Wait and see.’
Snuggled up to him, she felt his back muscles expand as he manoeuvred the boat around the rocks scattered like broken beads at the tip of the island before heading out to the deeps, the breeding ground for sharks.
After a while they passed the volcanic island of Methana and seemed set for Poros Island. Slipping through the narrow channel between Poros and the mainland, they began to hug the coast. And Olivia knew where they were headed.
She couldn’t stop smiling. He had remembered.
He drew the boat up on a small sandy beach and lifted her out as if she were a new bride crossing the threshold of the marital home. Symbolic, she thought, her heart catching with happiness.
Setting her down gently, he collected the small ruck-sack he’d brought and took her hand.
‘I can smell the lemon blossom,’ she said softly.
He smiled. ‘I thought it would be a good place for a picnic.’
‘Perfect,’ she sighed as they left the beach and began to walk through a field of poppies, starred with white daisies. Flowers bloomed everywhere, as they did in Greece: in the ruined walls of some long-forgotten temple, in rock crevices, and—exuberantly flooding the area with a tapestry of colour—beneath the trees in the lemon grove.
‘Fabulous.’ Drenched in the heady scent of the lemon blossom, she could hardly speak for joy.
They sat on a low hill with views down to the lapis-lazuli sea, their backs to a warm wall where tiny lizards basked. Olivia put her head on Dimitri’s shoulder and they remained in awed silence for a long time, their arms around each other.
It was so peaceful they might have been the only people in the world. Olivia thought dreamily that he was the only person in the world for her. And it was enough just to be with him, her troubled mind calm at last.
‘Look. Swallowtails.’
She followed Dimitri’s pointing finger and saw the butterflies hovering over the rock roses and sage. Now she could see little blue butterflies too, flitting about the wild lavender and rosemary bushes which were dotted about the lower ground.
Drugged by the lemon blossom, choked with happiness, she let her gaze wander over the orchids, fritillaries, anemones and blazing, blowsy poppies.
‘I thought of this place so many times when I was in England,’ she said quietly.
He kissed her, the first of many kisses that day. They kissed and touched and hugged one another often, and it seemed to her that he too was in a hazy dream.
Lazily they ate their simple meal of olive rolls with herbs, cold kleftedes, cheese, and cinnamon doughnuts soaked in honey syrup. Dimitri licked the syrup from her fingers and her lips, then fed her cherries and sweet oranges. They stayed in the grove for a long time, sipping wine and talking.
‘You said you were between jobs. I hope you didn’t have a male boss in the last one,’ he muttered.
Olivia laughed and her expression told him that she was intent on teasing. ‘I did. But he was seventy-one and could never catch me when I ran around his desk!’ Dimitri glowered and gently sank his teeth into her bare shoulder. ‘I’m fooling,’ she said. ‘He finally retired and his son took over. I didn’t like the way he looked at me or the comments he made—as if he fancied his chances—so I gave in my notice. And that’s when I decided it was a good opportunity to call you and say I wanted a divorce.’
Dimitri stared out to sea, his heart thumping. A tiny suspicion formed in his mind. ‘So you don’t have a job now.’
‘No. Which means I can stay.’
He was silent. Had she planned this all along? Handed in her resignation and deliberately set out to ensnare him again?
She began to kiss the side of his face and after a moment he turned his head back to her, his eyes shuttered.
‘Fortunate,’ he rasped, and pushed her back to the ground.
She felt dizzy from the perfume around them, the wine, his searching, demanding mouth. Her arms wound around his neck and she lured him with her eyes.
‘Let’s go for a swim.’ He had pulled her to her feet before she could comment.
But she loved him, so she indulged him. They stripped and walked into the sea, which was as warm as a bath. She was too sleepy to
do much more than float or tread water, but Dimitri powered his way up and down the little bay as if his life depended on it. Amused, she waited till he emerged, water sluicing from his body, and slowly joined him on the beach.
They dried one another and she felt such love for him that she thought her heart would crack. They walked to the headland to watch the sun set. As the crimson sky turned to a dusky black, the cicadas began to whirr in a deafening chorus. Fireflies speckled the darkness as they wandered back to the launch.
Olivia curled up on the sumptuous leather cushions, weak with rapture. He hadn’t even made love to her. Sex had been superseded by something deeper: the delight they shared in being together. Sighing, she flung her head back and stared at the deep velvet sky and its pinpoints of tiny stars. She wanted this to be her destiny. And yearned for it to be permanent.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SLEEPILY, aware of the morning light, she flung a loving arm to Dimitri’s side of the bed. Her eyes shot open. Her hand had landed on an empty space. She listened for the sound of the shower, but all was silent, except for the low murmur of voices below on the terrace.
Curious, she slid naked from the bed, her body still humming from Dimitri’s tender lovemaking.
He was having breakfast with his mother, drinking sketo, the unsweetened coffee he favoured, and talking to her earnestly. Olivia smiled, guessing that he was giving his mother the news that their marriage had been saved.
Yawning, she stumbled to the shower and pulled on a pair of briefs and a simple white sundress, pleased with the golden tan she’d acquired the day before. Pausing only to put a pair of pearl studs in her ears, she fiddled impatiently with their fixings before hurrying down to the terrace.
‘Olivia!’
Dimitri leapt to his feet when she appeared and came to kiss her cheek.
‘Hello, darling!’ she beamed. ‘Hello, Marina.’ She bent to kiss her mother-in-law. ‘How are you?’ she said, taking the chair Dimitri held for her.
‘Very well,’ smiled Marina vaguely, making Olivia blink with surprise. And then she discovered the reason for Marina’s rather distracted manner. Nikos appeared, greeting them all—but with his steady gaze lovingly fixed on Marina.
Dimitri and Olivia exchanged amused glances. Nikos had stayed the night. And in whose bed? they signalled to one another.
‘Nikos,’ Dimitri said quietly, ‘I want you to be one of the first to know. Olivia and I are back together again. I hope you are pleased. I know how you feel about wedding vows.’
He looked shocked for a moment, then his inbred courtesy came to the rescue. ‘Of course. Congratulations,’ he said a little stiffly.
‘I imagine you’ll be organising Eleni’s wedding soon,’ Dimitri went on tactfully. ‘There are so many men buzzing about her I think she’s spoilt for choice.’
Nikos gave a grin of pride, his disappointment eased. ‘She’s a catch.’
His eyes strayed to Marina, and Olivia wondered if Nikos would beat his daughter to the altar. She began to relax, feeling like the cat who’d got the cream, and tucked into her breakfast of yoghurt, fruit and honey with enthusiasm while Marina and Nikos chatted like children on a spree.
‘I don’t think they even noticed us going,’ she giggled, when she and Dimitri stole away.
‘Mother’s a different person,’ he said softly. ‘Being in love changes everything.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘It does.’
And she waited for him to make some kind of declaration to her. Or even to suggest they found another romantic spot—where he could tell her how deeply he was committed to her. Pulses fluttering, she waited in vain and bit her lip to conceal her disappointment.
They had reached the hall and he had remained silent, engrossed in thought. At that moment she heard his mobile ring. She automatically stiffened, her heart sinking at the familiar and much hated sound. Many times in the past that wretched tune had heralded a change of plan, and she didn’t want that to happen this time, not when so much should be said about their future together.
‘Shan’t be a moment.’ He glanced at the read-out and stiffened. ‘Go up. I’ll be with you in a moment.’ Preoccupied, he gave her face a casual caress then pushed open his study door and slipped inside.
As she turned away despondently she felt her earring slip to her shoulder and then fall to the ground, its weak fastening probably dislodged by the brush of Dimitri’s hand. On her knees in search of it, she found herself staring into the study past the half-open door. Her stomach wrenched at the sight of Dimitri. It was obvious that he thought she had gone upstairs and had no idea she was still around.
She froze. Noted the way his voice softened. The pleasure on his face. The way he was murmuring in such velvety tones.
He lounged against a bookcase, utterly relaxed and content and then turned so that his back was to the door. But she heard the word he uttered.
‘Athena.’
For a moment she stopped breathing. It was unmistakable amid the flow of liquid Greek. And murmured with a breathtaking tenderness that knifed straight through her.
‘Avrio,’ he said. Tomorrow. She knew that much Greek.
She walked in, unheard on the thick carpet, intending to ask what was going on. That was when she saw the birthday card. Blinking in disbelief, she stared blankly at the cheerful elephant holding three balloons. There was a cake in front of the animal, with three candles on it, and a badge marked with the number three. It could be for any child he knew, she reasoned, trying to stop her heart from beating so hard and fast it physically hurt.
Or, she thought in growing dismay, it might be a card for Athena’s child. Dimitri’s child. After all, it had been three years ago that she’d seen him lovingly helping Athena into his car.
The woman’s forehead had been slicked with sweat. They had paused while her contractions made her gasp and Dimitri had kissed Athena’s beautiful face and held her firmly in his strong arms, murmuring something soothing and encouraging.
Everything he’d done, every look he’d given Athena, had shown the love he felt for his pregnant mistress. Wouldn’t any man be the same? she had thought at the time. His child was about to be born. A time of joy and masculine pride. A time of tenderness.
Olivia winced. She had been frozen with horror, unable to move or speak. After all, she had been married for six months. That meant he’d known his mistress was pregnant when he’d walked down the aisle between those wreaths of white flowers linked by satin ribbon. When he had been exhorted to love her as if she were his own body. Lies. All lies. All deceit.
She had stared at Dimitri and Athena, a thousand thoughts racing through the turmoil of her mind. During their wedding, all the time they had circled the altar whilst being pelted with rose petals, sugared almonds and rice, had he thought of Athena and his child growing in her womb?
Tortured by this, Olivia had half fallen out of the car after Dimitri had driven away with his pregnant mistress. She had been violently sick. The man she had idolised and respected and loved so deeply had proved to be worthless and shallow. She had battered her fists on the car until the pain was too much to bear any more. But she hadn’t cried. Her anger had been too intense for tears.
She feared that Athena might be still in the picture. If so, he had lied to her yet again.
She took a shuddering breath, her sad eyes lingering on Dimitri’s gently angled head. Obviously he must feel some kind of love for the mother of his child. But she wondered if this might be the future wife he’d spoken about, the woman he must persuade Marina to accept one day.
Her world seemed to tilt and then steady again. She winced, remembering that she had been close to declaring her own love—and unwittingly facing the humiliation of Dimitri’s rejection.
Without a word she crept out, emotion filling her throat like a hard pebble. Tears began to sting her eyes and she found herself stumbling through the hall, half tripping over her own feet.
‘Olivia!’
Silently she groaned at Marina’s peremptory tone. Dimitri’s mother was the next-to-last person she wanted to see at this moment. Incapable of speaking, she flapped a hand of dismissal in her mother-in-law’s direction and continued on her way.
‘Are you drunk? What is the matter with you?’ Marina persisted.
‘Dimitri! Who else?’ she flung wretchedly, and headed blindly for the stairs.
‘Wait.’ Marina caught her arm and spun her around.
‘No! Leave me alone!’ Desperate for somewhere quiet to nurse her wounds, she tried to wrench away, but her mother-in-law was surprisingly strong and determined.
‘I want to know what he’s done,’ Marina said sharply. ‘I insist.’
‘So you can enjoy my misery?’ Olivia shot.
‘No. Because I want him to be as happy as I am.’
Olivia slumped in capitulation. Why not tell her? What did it matter any more?
‘Not here,’ she jerked out, feeling venomous. She glared at the study door. ‘The way I’m feeling, if he comes out of there I might damage his face permanently.’
Marina registered shock. ‘Come into the salon,’ she ordered hastily. ‘I think I should know what is going on.’
Imprisoned by the firm fingers that held her wrist in a vice-like grip, Olivia trailed after the thin, upright figure into the sunny room. She knew that she had to be careful what she said. If Marina knew the marriage was really over now, then that would leave Eleni free to pester him. It would be ages before the divorce came through and she’d be stuck in Greece, with her life on hold.
And yet… Olivia paled. They couldn’t continue with their ridiculous pretence. Not now. It would be unbearable, living here day after day, exchanging kisses and loving looks with him. Even worse to watch him drive away, wondering if he was heading for Athena’s arms. She just couldn’t trust him.
Hell, she thought grimly, he wouldn’t know love if it were burnt with a hot poker in capital letters on his steel-hard heart.
‘I’m waiting.’
Olivia heaved in a hard, hurting lungful of air. Determined to keep the angry tears at bay, she lifted her chin.