by Robyn Grady
Her nose twitched again. ‘I seem to be off coffee. Don’t know what it is. Probably just that time of the month.’
Andreas blanked out. He was over that time of the month, big time, and he certainly didn’t want to hear about Petra’s. He was irritable, he was short-tempered, and the sooner he got Cleo back where he wanted her, the better for all concerned. And maybe he’d even forget to use protection all over again. Only she’d probably be gone before she was fertile…
Damn.
Mind you, he could always change the contract terms…His mood brightened considerably. That was definitely one option worth pursuing.
‘Poor Cleo,’ Petra said, sifting through mail as she perched herself on the edge of his desk in her usual way, ‘what a dreadful thing to happen, being cheated of her money like that.’ She slapped a couple of papers down in front of him. ‘Though I guess she brought it on herself to a large extent.’
His ears twitched at the mention of Cleo’s name. He’d almost forgotten Petra was there again, already working out how best to tackle the subject of an extension to their terms. ‘Brought what on herself?’
She shrugged. ‘She must have told you. She went to London to meet this guy she’d hooked up with on the Internet and he ripped off the money for her return fare and left her with nothing. Awful. Mind you, you’d have to be pretty stupid to fall for something like that.’
Andreas sat back in his chair, letting the silence fall between them like an anvil. He knew for a moment that his scowl would say everything he needed to while he untangled the threads of his anger in his mind.
‘Are you saying Cleo’s stupid?’
‘No! I mean…Well—’ she shrugged and screwed up her nose, like she was making some kind of concession ‘—maybe just a bit naïve.’
‘Or are you saying that my father was stupid?’
‘Andreas! It’s hardly the same thing.’
‘Isn’t it? My father trusted someone and lost everything to him. Cleo trusted someone and suffered the same fate. Tell me how it’s different.’
He stood up and peeled his jacket from the back of his chair, shoving first one arm and then the other into it. ‘You deal with the mail, Petra. I’ve got more important things to do.’
‘Andreas, I didn’t mean anything, honest.’
No? He was sick of the niggling, sick of Petra’s snippy put-downs of Cleo with just a look or a snide remark. He’d been wrong to think she would take a not-so-subtle hint. Maybe it was time for a more direct approach. ‘It’s not going to happen, Petra, so don’t think it is.’
She looked innocent enough, but he knew there was a computer inside that was as sophisticated as it was devious. ‘You and me. That night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.’
He found Cleo sitting out on the terrace overlooking the caldera and reading another of her books. In spite of the still-smouldering anger that simmered inside him, he smiled. In a lemon-coloured sundress that made the most of her newly acquired tan, she looked both innocent and intent at the same time.
She looked around, almost as if she’d been able to feel his eyes on her, and she smiled that heart-warming smile as her azure eyes lit up with enthusiasm. ‘Back already? You’ll never guess what I just read.’
Her enthusiasm was infectious. So infectious he didn’t want her to leave in however many days they had left. It was to his advantage she was in a good mood. It would be easier to convince her to stay. ‘Tell me,’ he said, pulling up a chair alongside.
‘Well, when the volcano erupted going back three thousand years or so ago, it wiped out not just the cities on the island itself, but some think it brought down the entire prehistoric Minoan civilisation with it.’
‘It’s possible,’ he acknowledged with a nod. ‘Nobody knows for certain, but it could explain why the Minoans were such prosperous sea traders one minute and wiped from the face of the earth the next.’
Her azure eyes sparkled like the waters of the caldera itself. ‘But this is the really exciting bit. Some say that the eruption and the fallout are the origins of the legend of Atlantis. A world that sank beneath the sea—and this is where it all happened! Do you believe it? Do you think Santorini is actually what’s left of Atlantis?’
His cell phone interrupted them and he pulled it out, took one look at the caller ID and switched it off. Petra could wait.
‘I think it’s highly possible,’ he conceded, repocketing his phone.
She sighed, hugging the book to her chest, and looked over to where the volcano, now silent, spread dark and low in the midst of the waters. ‘I believe it. I did a Google search and found a Classics course in Sydney.’
‘Cleo…’
‘I’m going to enrol in it as soon as I get home. I’ll be able to afford to live there now, thanks to you.’
‘About going home.’
She turned her head, the spark gone from her eyes. ‘Do you want me to leave earlier? I…I don’t mind, if that’s what you want.’
And he almost laughed at the idea. He shook his head. ‘No. I don’t want you to go earlier.’
‘Then, what is it?’
He took a second to frame his thoughts. ‘What’s waiting for you at home? I mean, you’ve never talked about your family. Are they close?’
She gave a curious smile, her eyes perplexed. ‘Well, not really. My mum’s great, but the twins, my two half-brothers, keep her pretty busy and she’s got a baby coming apparently.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘And then there’s my step-dad, of course.’
‘What’s he like?’
She shrugged. ‘He’s okay, a bit rough around the edges maybe, but a lot of blokes are like that out there, but Mum loves him and he’s good to her.’
‘And to you?’
Excess baggage. The words were indelibly inscribed on her psyche. She sucked in a breath. ‘We moved out there when Mum got the job as his housekeeper. I think he always saw me as a bit of an add-on, always hoping I’d make something of myself and move out. He’ll be relieved I’ll finally be off his hands.’
‘Is that why you took off for the UK?’
She put the book she’d been holding up on the table and rubbed her arms. ‘What’s going on?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why all the questions? You’ve never bothered about all this personal stuff before.’
‘Maybe we had something else to keep us busy then.’ And even under her tan she managed to blush the way she did that made him warm all over. ‘And maybe I’m just interested.’
She looked up at him warily through lowered lashes, as if she still didn’t quite believe him. ‘Okay. I guess wanting to prove myself was part of the reason I left. The job opportunities at home were non-existent and I kind of fell into cleaning, like Mum had.’ Her hands knotted in her lap, her grip so tight it sent the ends of her fingers alternately red then white. ‘I thought meeting Kurt was the opportunity of a lifetime and the chance to escape. I was so desperate to make a success of myself, I made every mistake in the book. I was such a fool.’ She fell silent on a sigh, moisture sheening her eyes.
He reached over and untangled the damp knot of her hands, taking one of them between his own, lifting it, and pressing his lips to its back. ‘It’s no crime to trust someone.’
She blinked up at him, trying to clear her vision. Why did he have to be so kind? It had been easier when she’d thought him completely ruthless, easier when she remembered the way he’d taken over the hotel, issuing orders like a general in battle.
But lately he’d been beyond kind. The way he’d abandoned his work to escort her around the island, the way he’d watched sunset after sunset with her because she didn’t want to miss a single one because she wanted to store them all up and remember when she went home, and the way he’d woken her softly just this morning with a kiss and brought her to climax with his clever fingers and his hot mouth.
And now he was listening to her as if what she said mattered. As if he cared for her as much as she was be
ginning to care for him.
She gulped down a breath.
Oh, no, don’t go there! Don’t imagine it for a minute. Because once before she’d thought someone cared for her. Once before she’d fallen for him because of it. Look where that had got her.
No, she’d made a deal. Under the terms of their contract, she would leave here in little more than two weeks and they’d never see each other again.
She turned her eyes away from the thumb now stroking her hand, his long, tapered fingers and neat nails, up, and up to his face, knowing he was waiting for some kind of response, something to show that she’d put what had happened in the past behind her. But it wasn’t what had happened in the past that was bothering her. It was what lay ahead that scared her most of all.
Two weeks of sharing Andreas’ bed and pretending to be his mistress, being his mistress.
Two weeks of guarding her fragile heart.
And two weeks to work on not falling in love with Andreas Xenides.
She dragged in oxygen to steel her resolve. She’d learned from her mistake with Kurt. It wouldn’t happen to her again. She wouldn’t let it. She couldn’t afford to let it.
‘Thank you,’ she managed at last, trying to keep things as impersonal as possible. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘How much?’
It had taken her ages to form a response. She wasn’t ready for his. ‘Pardon?’
‘How much do you appreciate it?’
She shook her head, still uncertain. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Would you consider an extension to our contract?’
‘No.’This time it was her rapid-fire response that took him by surprise. He jerked back, as if she’d fired a shot from a gun. ‘I mean, I’m not sure that’s possible, with this course, and everything I’ve got planned.’ She plucked at a crease in her dress, her mind in turmoil. Leaving after another two weeks would likely be hell. How would she calmly walk away if she stayed longer?
‘I’ll double what I’m paying you. Two million Australian dollars.’
‘It’s not about the money!’ And it wasn’t. Just lately the thought of being paid for what she was experiencing here on Santorini sat uneasily on her. If he’d been a bully and as ruthless as he’d first seemed, she might have felt as if she deserved it for putting up with him, but he wasn’t like that. He was kind and generous and he seemed as if he cared.
‘But you like it here. You like being with me.’
She pushed herself out of her chair, striding to the balustrade her hands grasping at its reassuring solidity. The season was warming up. Three cruise ships lay at anchor today, lighters zipping through the spring mist between them and the port with their cargo of today’s photo-hungry tourists.
‘It’s no crime to trust someone.’
His words came back to her. Andreas was right. It was no crime to trust someone. Once. But it was a fool who let themselves be burned a second time.
How could she tell him she was scared? He was a businessman He dealt in contracts and clauses and certainties. Those he understood. Those he lived by. And that would have to be her angle.
She sensed when he joined her at the terrace edge, on the very lip of the ancient crater where the fresh salty wind met the sky. Her skin prickled, her blood fizzed and her flesh became alive with want.
‘You do enjoy my company, don’t you?’
There was no point answering his question. The truth would get her nowhere. ‘We have two weeks left, Andreas. Maybe we should just make the most of them.’
A noise alerted him, something other than the cry of seabirds or the distant buzz of conversation and exclamation as tourists wended their way through the narrow paths and came upon another magnificent photo opportunity. He swung his head around and saw her standing there, in the doorway leading to the terrace. Gamoto. How much had she heard?
‘Petra, what can I do for you?’
‘Kalimera, Cleo,’ she started. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but, Andreas, your phone was switched off and I had to talk to you.’
‘Can’t it wait?’ He didn’t care if he sounded rude. The last thing he needed was Petra spying on them. Already she’d somehow wormed more information out of Cleo than he had wanted her to, and if she’d been here while he’d been talking about the contract…
‘I am sorry. But you must excuse me. I’m not feeling very well, Andreas. I wanted to let you know I really think I’m not much good in the office today. I’m hoping it’s all right with you to go to my apartment and lie down.’
Damned time of the month again, he supposed, though why all of a sudden she had to fall victim to the curse, he didn’t know.
‘Are you still feeling unwell?’ Cleo asked, moving away from him to take Petra by the arm. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘I really don’t want to interrupt you,’ Petra protested, and then with a smile, ‘but that would be so sweet. I am feeling a little dizzy.’
And Andreas watched in bemusement and not a little frustration as the woman he had brought here to deflect the attentions of another was now giving that woman all of hers.
‘Come straight back,’ he called out to her. ‘I want to take you shopping.’ And she waved her hand to him, acknowledging she’d heard, even as she shepherded Petra into the building. It wasn’t really a lie, he thought as he paced the length of the terrace waiting for her, watching the last of the morning mist burn off the deep blue waters of the flooded crater. She wasn’t big on shopping, preferring to explore the churches and villages than the flash boutiques and jewellery stores, but there was something he wanted to buy her, something special he knew would remind her of the intense blue of the sun and sea of Santorini and would at the same time be the perfect complement to her eyes.
And something that might even help persuade her to stay.
Why she was so vehement about leaving, he didn’t understand She loved it here, she loved all of it, even coming to terms with the fact the islands were part of a volcanic system that had been changing over thousands of years and would keep on changing.
But he was determined to make her change her mind and he was confident he could do it. Everyone had their price. A million dollars had got her here.
He didn’t care how much it took to keep her.
An hour later, Andreas excused himself to make a phone call and Cleo happily agreed to wait, a rack of blue-beaded key rings catching her attention. It was probably time she thought about buying a few souvenirs to take home. The last two weeks had gone in a flash. The next couple of weeks would probably fly past even quicker.
She dodged out of the way of a group of tourists taking up the width of the street. The streets of Fira were busy today, the day tourists growing in number by the minute, making the narrow lanes and streets even more crowded. If she’d known, she might have stayed at home.
Home.
Now there was a notion. Since when had the mansion she was temporarily occupying ever been her home?
A silver donkey key ring caught her eye, strung on blue cotton with blue beads that looked like eyes. She selected two. Her half-brothers would both love one. She found another, with spinning letter beads that spelt out SANTORINI with more of the eye beads and a beautiful blue stone at the base. Her mother, she decided instantly, slipping it from the rack.
Now she just needed something for her step father. She looked over the racks and decided that with the blue beads there was nothing ‘blokey’ enough, so her gaze widened, her eyes scanning the contents of the store for that perfect easy-to-pack memento.
And that was when she saw him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE WAS checking out the postcards, his face and chest puffier than Cleo remembered, or maybe that was just because they were both pink from the sun, and his arm looped around the shoulders of a girl who looked as stringy as her hair.
He was here.
The key rings slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.
‘I’m sorry to leave you so long.’ Sh
e registered Andreas’ voice, clung onto the sound like a lifeline even as he bent down to pick up the items she’d dropped. ‘Cleo, what’s wrong? You look ill.’
‘That’s him,’ she croaked through a throat clamped as tight as every muscle and organ in her body. ‘That’s Kurt.’
Kurt chose that moment to widen his own search, scanning the shop for opportunities. He looked around, the skin between his eyes creasing into a frown when he saw Andreas scowling at him, a frown that became confused when he looked at the woman alongside the stranger, until the moment he recognised her and his expression became one of abject terror. He tugged, already half outside the shop himself, at the girl next to him who was busy trying on sunglasses. Kurt didn’t care, the need to escape clearly paramount, as he dragged his protesting girlfriend out with him, the unpurchased sunglasses still covering her eyes.
‘Stay here,’Andreas said, barking out orders to the proprietor in Greek in the same breath before he took off after Kurt. A moment later a woman brought Cleo a chair, insisting she sit down, clucking over her like a mother hen as she pressed a bottle of spring water into her hands. Cleo didn’t argue. She was still punch-drunk from seeing Kurt.
So he’d come to Santorini. All that talk of the Greek Islands hadn’t been for nothing. But who was the girl? Someone he’d picked up on the Internet who did make the grade? She didn’t want to feel hard done by, she had had a complete wardrobe and cosmetic makeover, but surely even before all that she’d been a cut above her?
God, was she that much of a loser that she couldn’t even hang onto a man like Kurt?
The woman returned to her side, pressing a small plastic Santorini shopping bag into her hands. The key rings of course, she thought as she felt the beads inside.Andreas must have passed them on to her. She reached for her purse but the woman waved her away. ‘No charge,’she said, smiling, bowling Cleo over with more of the warmth and hospitality she’d found everywhere on the island, so that her eyes threatened to spill over with it.