The Highest Stakes of All

by Sara Craven

  She said very quietly, ‘Vassos—I beg you. Have a little mercy. I—I’m all she’s got.’

  ‘That is hardly an argument to use with me, matia mou.’ He did not look at her. ‘Saying you can be generous with a child who is a stranger to you when you have given me less than nothing. Perhaps you have not considered that mercy can work both ways.’

  He added politely, ‘And now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.’

  She said numbly, ‘Yes—yes, of course.’ And left him, the dismissive words ‘less than nothing’ still burning in her brain.

  And they were still there, tormenting her, hours later as she lay in bed, watching the moonlight make patterns on her tiled floor through the slatted shutters and waiting for the summons to his room that she knew now was not going to come.

  The evening, as a whole, had not gone well, starting with her realisation that the table on the terrace was set for three and Stavros would be joining them for dinner.

  It was not the first time it had happened, of course, but she’d thought that, after this time apart, Vassos would wish to be alone with her.

  Instead she had sat, toying with her food, while the two men spoke softly to each other in their own language, their faces serious and purposeful. When the meal ended, Stavros rose, bade her a punctilious goodnight, and went. And almost at once Vassos excused himself quietly, saying he had work to finish, and left, too.

  Leaving her without the chance she’d hoped for to begin to put right all the things that had gone wrong between them earlier. The assumptions she’d made—the accusations she’d levelled—had given him every right to be angry with her. She accepted that.

  Soula duped me, she thought, and as a result I simply fooled myself into seeing a resemblance that didn’t exist. Maybe—as Vassos said—I wanted it to be so, and it became so.

  That must be how it happened.

  And yet—and yet.

  She stopped there. It was no good wishing that things were different. That she could wave a magic wand and make everything right. She had to deal with her life here as it was.

  But at the same time she knew that she needed to try to find a chink in the wall of bitterness he’d built around himself after the appalling events of his marriage.

  To repair the damage, somehow, and in doing so perhaps find again the man who’d held and caressed her with such astonishing tenderness.

  The man she’d deliberately rejected to protect herself from the truth of her own feelings. A truth she could not admit in words.

  He’d spoken of mercy, she thought. But instead she would offer him warmth, desire and passion, letting him see in this long-delayed surrender how deeply she’d yearned for him.

  She slid out of bed, shrugging off her nightgown and letting it fall to the floor. She wrapped herself in the shawl, and walked in barefoot silence the length of the passage to Vassos’ room.

  She’d thought he would be asleep, but he was sitting propped up by pillows, reading more documents by the light of his bedside lamp.

  As she hesitated just inside the door, he looked at her, brows lifting.

  He said quietly, ‘I did not invite you to join me.’

  ‘Nevertheless I’m here.’ She paused, aware this was not what she’d expected, adding uncertainly, ‘Do you want me to leave?’

  The dark eyes surveyed her, lingering on the lines of her slender body which the cobweb veiling of the shawl did little to conceal.

  ‘No,’ he said, a faint smile playing about his mouth as he put his papers on the night table. ‘Perhaps, after all, I do not.’

  In obedience to his brief, imperative gesture, Joanna dropped the shawl and walked naked to the bed. She was blushing as she did so, but her gaze did not waver from his.

  She lifted the cover of the single sheet and slid on to the mattress beside him.

  He turned on to his side, propping himself on an elbow. His voice was even. ‘What are you doing here, Joanna?’

  She played with the embroidered hem of the sheet. ‘Maybe I don’t like sleeping by myself.’

  ‘Yet when I have been here you have done so every night except one.’ He sounded almost matter-of-fact.

  Her flush deepened. ‘Yes, I know that. But we’ve been apart for over a week. I thought you might have—missed me.’

  ‘You assume then that I also spent my nights alone during my time in Athens?’ He sounded amused.

  For a moment Joanna felt winded, as if she’d been abruptly rammed in the stomach by a fist.

  She swallowed, controlling the sudden anguished flurry of her breathing. Fighting the flare of pain his casual remark had ignited.

  She said in a low voice, ‘You indicated this afternoon that I should learn to mind my own business. Therefore, I have no right to know what you do when you’re—away from me. Or even to ask.’

  And, hardest of all, no right to care …

  ‘My congratulations,’ he gibed. ‘It seems you have mastered one lesson at least. Now, why are you really here?’

  She was silent for a long moment, then she said, her voice quivering a little, ‘Perhaps to acquire a—different kind of knowledge.’

  She touched his bare shoulder with fingers that trembled, letting them trace an uneven trail down his chest.

  Vassos drew a sharp breath, then took the edge of the concealing sheet and tossed it away, down to the foot of the bed, leaving them naked together in the lamplight.

  She was assailed by the thought of the sophisticated and experienced women who had been his lovers in the past. Maybe, she thought unhappily, in the very recent past, as he’d hinted. And what did she have to offer? she asked herself as nervousness mingled with a sense of her own gaucherie almost overwhelmed her.

  When she spoke, her voice shook. ‘I thought that you …’

  ‘Oh, no, pedhi mou. If, at last, you truly wish to know how the joining of a man and a woman can touch the edge of Paradise, then you must discover this for yourself. Seduce me as at first I tried to seduce you.’

  She said wretchedly, ‘But I don’t know how. I—I don’t know anything …’

  ‘It is not so difficult.’ His voice gentled. ‘Unlike a woman, Joanna mou, I cannot hide the fact that I want you. So you can only win. And, as a beginning, you could kiss me.’

  He reached for her, drawing her close and winding his fingers in her hair as he brought her mouth slowly to his.

  Her lips were shy as they touched him, but she had the remembered gentleness of his own first kisses—the offered tenderness to guide her as her mouth moved softly, persuasively on his, caressing the firm contours of his lips until finally she coaxed them to part for her, her body melting at the honeyed sweetness of his tongue gliding against hers.

  As their kiss deepened, became more urgent, Joanna slid her arms round his neck, arching her body against him so that the already sensitive peaks of her breasts grazed his chest in aching tumescence, and, in turn, she felt the steel hardness of his erection surge against her in unspoken demand.

  She was drowning in her longing for him, scalding in the liquid heat of her own desire. Desperate to take him inside her and surrender to the promised consummation of her need.

  But some instinct told her not yet. Wait a little. And, in obedience to its compulsion, she began to press tiny, fleeting kisses to the strong column of his throat. Swift, teasing contacts that would arouse but not satisfy, she thought from some warm, dazed corner of her mind, wondering how she could possibly know this.

  At the same time she allowed her hands to slide across the width of his shoulders, then move with lingering emphasis down the lean strong body, following the dark shadowing of hair from his chest to his stomach and beyond. And where her hands touched, her mouth followed.

  Vassos lay back, his eyes closed, his body taut under the silken passage of her fingers and lips. He did not speak, but the sharp indrawn breath he could not control told her better than words of the effect her untutored caresses were having.

  And wh
en she reached the proud male shaft, encircling its heated, jutting power in the clasp of her hand and stroking it gently, she heard him give a hoarse groan of pleasure.

  He turned to her, his mouth seeking hers, invading it in passionate demand, while his hands cupped her breasts, fondling their delicate curves, stirring her to a delight that was almost pain as his fingers teased her engorged nipples.

  Her arms went round him, her hands exploring the long, graceful back and flat, muscular buttocks, and he smiled into her eyes as his hand slid down between her parted thighs to discover the burning moisture of her surrender and to explore it with heart-stopping eroticism.

  Joanna gasped against his lips as his questing fingertip penetrated the satin folds of her secret woman’s flesh to find her tiny hidden bud and caress it to a pinnacle of aching, soaring arousal.

  Every nerve-ending in her skin seemed to be coming searingly alive under the rhythmic certainty of his touch—every sense, every atom of feeling in the core of her being gloriously coalescing into some unimagined and unimaginable culmination.

  She felt herself poised on an unknown brink, and from some distant space she heard her own husky whisper—'Please—oh, please …’

  Heard his own hoarse response, ‘Agapi mou.’

  And in the next instant found herself overtaken and overwhelmed by the piercing, shuddering wonder of her first climax.

  As the pulsations reached their peak, Vassos’ hands closed on her slender waist, lifting her over him, then lowering her on to him with infinite care until his hard, virile strength was totally sheathed inside her, forcing a small sob of delight from her quivering lips.

  And Joanna, obeying the same instinct that had guided her before, began to move on him, with him, her inner muscles still clenching powerfully and sweetly around him, and her sensitised skin responding rapturously to the warm drift of his hands on her breasts, her belly, her hips and down to the shadowed cleft of her thighs.

  Aware of the intensity of his half-closed eyes as they watched the sway of her slim body above him, and the harsh sigh of his breathing.

  She heard it quicken almost hectically, then Vassos flung back his head, his skin dewed with sweat, the veins standing out on his neck, and a sound that might have been her name was torn from his throat as she felt him spasm fiercely inside her.

  She slumped forward, burying her face in his damp shoulder as she yielded to the delicious languor enveloping her.

  They lay wrapped together for a while, until the wild spinning of the world returned to normality and their breathing steadied, then Vassos moved slowly, detaching himself from her.

  There was a long silence, then he said quietly and coolly, ‘So, Joanna mou, having pleasured me so exquisitely, have you nothing to ask from me in return? Some favour, perhaps?’

  Only—how soon can we do this again? Joanna reflected, blushing a little. Then paused, wondering, because surely he must know the pleasure had been completely mutual.

  She said aloud, ‘I—I don’t understand what you mean.’

  ‘No? Yet it is surely quite simple. You want my permission to visit the child Eleni, as you requested this afternoon. And you are determined to have your way. After all, what else could have prompted the ardour of such a performance?’

  He added silkily, ‘I do not complain, you understand. But I must also be realistic. You wished to buy my acquiescence by offering me the only coin you thought I would accept. But you should be more subtle in your trading, pedhi mou. Because, in spite of this delightful and astonishing interlude, my answer to your request still remains—no. And as I shall not change my mind, no matter what further enticements you offer, you may prefer now to return to your own room. But please believe I shall always be—grateful.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JOANNA stared at him, stunned. For a moment her mind ran riot as she told herself he could not be serious—could not possibly mean those unkind, cynical remarks that he’d almost negligently tossed at her.

  Not after what had just happened between them—surely? All that passion and glory reduced to the level of a—tradeoff? It couldn’t be true.

  But there was none of the former tenderness in the level dark gaze, and no hint of amusement to soften the hard lines of the mouth that had set her ablaze with kisses such a short while before.

  She found her voice at last. ‘You really think that is why—’

  ‘Of course,’ Vassos interrupted coldly. ‘What other reason could there be for such a transformation? Or did you think I would share your naïveté and assume your surrender was genuine and without strings?’ He shook his head almost grimly. ‘You misjudge me, pedhi mou.‘

  And you, she thought, misjudge me. Completely. Because I gave you my heart as well as my body just now. God knows, I didn’t expect love in return, but if you’d spoken just one word of kindness my soul would have followed and I’d have been yours for ever.

  There were tears, thick and painful in her chest and burning her throat, but she would not weep in front of him in case he thought it was just another ploy. Another trick to have her way over Eleni.

  She said, her voice shaking a little, ‘Yes, kyrie. It seems that I have made a mistake. But it will never happen again.’

  It was torture having to leave the bed, naked under his sardonic gaze, in order to retrieve her shawl, but she did it, wrapping herself closely in its folds with hands that trembled, then walking to the door without looking back.

  She managed to regain her room before she began to cry, throwing herself across the bed, and stifling her sobs in her pillow.

  And when the first storm had subsided she got up stiffly and went to the bathroom, standing under the warm torrent of the shower, letting it wash away all trace of anything and everything that had happened that night.

  Wishing at the same time that it was possible to remove the memories and the regrets as easily as the tearstains.

  I should have known, she thought wearily as she dried herself. Should have realised what Vassos would think when I just—turned up in his bedroom like that. Except, of course, I wasn’t thinking, because I totally forgot to use any reason and let myself be carried away by the force of my emotions. By my need for him.

  I was stupid—stupid—and now that it’s all gone wrong I have no one to blame but myself.

  But, dear God, I wanted him so badly. Wanted to know at last what it was to be a woman. His woman. And to give him everything.

  Instead, she now had to come to terms with the inescapable fact that becoming his sexual partner for a brief while did not make her into any kind of woman, she thought bitterly, and it never would.

  She’d proved nothing except that she was still a child—a pathetic child, like poor little Eleni, hoping each day for a love that would never be offered. And having to wake each morning to the sombre reality of disappointment.

  She chose a clean nightdress, straightened the disordered bed, and crept under the covering sheet to lie wakeful and wretched, her awakened body restless. And it was not until dawn streaked the sky that she finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

  It was late when she awoke, and as she sat up pushing her hair out of her eyes, she saw the bedroom door open and Hara appear almost as if she’d received some signal.

  ‘Kyrios Vassos says to let you sleep,’ she announced. ‘He has important visitors from mainland, talking business this morning. I bring you breakfast here.’

  Presumably because he doesn’t want my presence known, Joanna thought bleakly. Though I’m sure the fact he has a mistress will come as no surprise to any of his guests.

  ‘And am I to stay here in my room until the business is concluded?’ she asked tautly, as she drank her orange juice and spread apricot jam on a warm roll.

  Hara looked shocked. ‘By no means, thespinis. Kyrios Vassos suggests you spend the day by the pool. He will join you later when other men leave.’

  Joanna poured some coffee. She said woodenly, ‘Just as he wishes,’ and saw the fleeting loo
k of relief on the older woman’s face.

  But while he’s safely occupied with his talks, she thought, I have some business of my own to conduct. Because I refuse to just vanish from Eleni’s life, no matter whose child she may be. It would be too cruel. So, whatever he says, I will see her again, even if it is only to say goodbye.

  And if I’m simply justifying everything he said to me last night—so be it. He would expect no better.

  Her breakfast finished, she dressed in brief candy-striped shorts and a matching halter-top in blue and white, and set off with her book, sunglasses and tanning oil for the pool, where a lounger had already been placed for her under the shade of a parasol.

  Making sure I obey orders and keep out of harm’s way, she thought wryly. And for the first hour she did exactly that, although it would be unwise to wait too long before she departed on her mission, she decided, getting up from her lounger.

  She deliberately uncapped her sun oil, and left her book lying casually open on the lounger, as if she only expected to be gone for a few moments, then made her way to the far side of the pool area and through a gap in the hibiscus hedge.

  There was no one about, the air hot and still, apart from the drone of insects. None of the security men was visible, not even the obnoxious Yanni, so presumably everyone’s attention was firmly focussed on the meeting inside the villa.

  Besides, she thought, Vassos would no doubt consider that his word was law, and she would not dare to flout it.

  Well, he was wrong about me last night, she told herself defiantly, fighting down the hurt that the memory of his words engendered. And he’s wrong again today, although he’ll never know that.

  All the same, she found herself hurrying, trying to figure out what she would say when she arrived at the house—whether or not she would challenge Soula over her assertions. And why she’d made them.

  But it’s probably better not to ask, she thought. Instead keep it short and simple. Explain that I may be leaving Pellas quite soon, and won’t have time for more visits. Because it could even be the truth.