‘Are you out of your head?’ Anton fired angrily back at her. ‘This is not Theo’s island it is my island! Don’t you even know the name of your own father’s birthplace?’
The way she blinked those infuriatingly beautiful eyes at him made it clear that she did not. The lowering sun was turning her hair into a halo of spun-golden threads. Oh damn it, he thought, growling the curse inside his own head. And he knew why he was cursing—hell did he know.
‘You grandfather’s island is called Argiris—Argiris!’ He repeated it furiously, flinging out one of his arms. ‘It lies about fifty kilometres off in that direction.’
‘Oh,’ she mumbled, and actually swivelled to look as if she had laser vision and could see fifty kilometres away.
He allowed himself the absolutely guilty pleasure of visualising himself striding over there and dragging her into his arms so he could kiss that contrite pout she was now wearing off her pink mouth. ‘Get in the car,’ he growled, and made do with swinging the car door open then stood, glowering down at his shoes, while he waited for her to come and get into the car.
He caught the scent of her again as she came closer, that distracting smell of freshly cut apples that made the juices inside his mouth spring out on to the flat of his tongue. It attacked other parts of him too, making him pull in the muscles around his hips.
‘Blame yourself if I can’t trust a single thing that you say or do,’ she informed him coolly before she disappeared into the car with an aggravating, lofty flounce.
Anton closed the door with a cringingly gentle click. Zoe bit down on her soft bottom lip and stared after him as he strode off towards the other car. He didn’t even want to be in the same car as her any more, she realised, and felt this strange hollow feeling open up in the pit of her stomach.
‘It is not always wise to make him angry,’ a dry voice murmured beside her.
CHAPTER SIX
STARTLED, Zoe wrenched her head around then blinked when she found Kostas sitting across on the other side of the car with Toby strapped in between them sleeping the sleep of the contented innocent.
‘It is not wise to give arrogant bullies like him all their own way, either,’ she flicked right back.
‘You goad him,’ said Kostas.
‘I asked him a simple question and he took my head off!’ She defended herself despite knowing that she did goad Anton all the time and without really understanding why she needed to do that.
And where was he going to that he needed an extra car? she wondered as she watched the lead car begin to move away. Preferring to slit her own throat than to ask Kostas the question, she made do with telling herself that she didn’t care where he was going so long as it was far away from her.
‘He has business to attend to in the village.’ Kostas, who could clearly read minds, offered up the information without her request. ‘He must then be back here to board his plane before sunset arrives because our small airport is not authorised to function after dusk.’
‘So this isn’t actually his private island, then?’ He’d just claimed it as such.
Kostas made a face. ‘It is the place of Anton’s birth, the home of his late father and many more Pallis fathers before him. Anton built the airport, the small hospital in the village and the new school, and he provides employment for anyone who wants to stay on the island or helps those who prefer to find employment elsewhere.’
There was pride in Kostas’s voice as he reeled off his employer’s good points, pride and affection. It only stung Zoe’s into a stubborn determination to think the worst of Anton Pallis’s motives even here in this island where everyone obviously believed he was some kind of living saint. Well, the devil knew how to soften people up with favours—before he demanded your soul as recompense. And she was determined to keep her soul very much intact, thank you very much!
She hated Anton. It was really quite unsettlingly exciting how much she hated him. The feeling kind of taunted her with all different kinds of nerve-stimulating flicks and flurries, so she had to sit tense-backed and consciously control her breathing so what was going on with her on the inside would not show on the outside.
They’d been driving steadily down through the trees since they’d left the tiny airport; now the forest had thinned out to reveal pretty green meadows dotted with olive and fruit groves basking in the sultry late sunlight. In front of them the water was closer, the dusty road they were travelling along showing a junction not far ahead. The front car went to the left; they turned to the right and were suddenly travelling parallel to a pine-edged sandy beach. She could see boats out on the shimmering sea like tiny white dots of glinting white and was surprised to see a small hotel on the opposite side of the road.
‘You have a tourist industry here?’ she asked because, despite not wanting to be interested, she discovered that she was.
‘Tourism is not discouraged,’ said Kostas. ‘However it is expected of anyone who comes to stay on Thalia that they maintain standards of behaviour we islanders are used to here.’
Another snippet of information, Zoe acknowledged. Kostas was a native of this island too.
‘So, what happens if they don’t behave?’ Suddenly her lost sense of humour crept out for an airing. ‘Does he have them thrown into jail then lord it over them in judgement?’
‘He has them removed,’ Kostas said, smiling. ‘We observe zero tolerance from outsiders here. In a world beset by unruliness and crime we suffer neither. This is the one place Anton can come and relax and simply be himself.’
Wondering what Anton Pallis was like when just ‘being himself,’ Zoe chose to make no further comment. A despot was still a despot, no matter how relaxed he could make himself. A few minutes later they turned inland again winding around a shallow headland, and then everything changed within the single blink of an eye.
This was sheer heaven tucked in around a pretty crescent-shaped bay. The pine trees marched almost to the edge of the soft sandy beach, which was all she managed to take in before they were turning yet again and she found herself staring at the promised big gates. Though why they were there at all baffled Zoe when she could see no sign of a fence or a wall, just more pine trees forming a shallow wood either side of them.
The gates swung wide to allow the car to drive through them and she forgot all about fences when her vision was suddenly filled the most breathtakingly beautiful white-painted villa, with pale-blue woodwork and a terracotta roof nestling in a gently tended landscape.
Everything was so pretty, she thought as she glanced around her curiously. Nothing was too formal or overstated, just the tall trees forming a majestic backcloth to sun-kissed green lawns and the villa.
The car drew to a stop then in front of a blue-painted door. Zoe turned her attention to releasing her brother’s seat from its restraints when Toby suddenly woke up as if some instinct had told him all the hours of travelling were over. He went from sweetly angelic to loudly demanding attention with no gap in between. Abandoning her attempts to release his seat, Zoe swapped to releasing Toby from his safety harness instead, shushing him as she gathered the small protesting baby into her arms before scrambling out of the car.
Kostas was already standing on a deep, shady terrace; his big, bulky frame was being hugged by a small lady with a plump face and shining dark brown eyes.
‘This is Anthea, Anton’s housekeeper—and my mother.’ He introduced Zoe in the gruff voice of embarrassment of a tough guy going all soft in front of his adoring mother. ‘This is thespinis Kanellis and her brother Toby.’ he completed the introductions to his mother who was staring at Zoe with the kind of fascination which made her feel as if she’d just landed here from Mars.
‘Beautiful hair.’ Anthea sighed out rapturously. ‘It is golden like the sun.’
Unsure how to answer that without blushing, Zoe was relieved when Toby notched up his crying levels and grabbed centre stage. The next few minutes went by in a rush as Anthea set about hustling them into the house an
d up the stairs with Kostas following behind them with their things.
Zoe found herself standing in a pretty room with the sunlight softened by the white drapes across the windows. A huge baby’s cot stood in pride of place, with other pieces of baby furniture set efficiently within reach of the cot. She spied a small fridge with en electric kettle placed on top of it, then an old-fashioned rocking chair by the draped window. There was even a television placed comfortably in reach of a small creamy-blue settee. Zoe could tell that the room had been hastily refurbished to accept a small baby, and she suffered a small twist of gratitude towards Anton Pallis because it looked as if he’d tried his best to have the room look as similar as he could to their kitchen in London.
A dark-haired pretty girl the size of a twelve-year-old stepped forward, all shy smiles for Zoe and soothing murmurs of comfort for the weeping boy.
‘This is my sister, Martha,’ Kostas offered up. ‘She is older than she looks. Martha is here to help you with your brother.’
About to insist that she didn’t need help with Toby, Zoe bit back on her independent streak when she saw the eager expression on Martha’s face. Before she knew it she was handing over the tense, crying bundle of anger that was Toby into Martha’s perfectly capable arms.
The next two hours went by in a daze, while between the two of them she and Martha shared soothing the small baby as he went through his usual evening cranky stage. It was gone eight o’clock before she was shown by Anthea into a bedroom directly across the landing from Toby’s room.
Decorated in the softest pastel blue, the colour was contrasted by the furniture which was heavy and dark. ‘Handmade right here on Thalia,’ Anthea informed her proudly. ‘Anton prefers to use local craftsmen whenever he can.’
The man could do no wrong, thought Zoe. She walked over to the window to look out on the now pitch darkness and wondered where he was right now—holed up in Athens already, sighing with relief that he’d got away from his irritating charges?
Then Martha wanted to show her the adjoining bathroom and where to find spare toiletries and towels. A few minutes later, Zoe drew open another door next to the bathroom. She did not know what she’d expected to find on the other side of that door but it definitely wasn’t the row upon row of beautiful feminine garments, all of them complete strangers to her.
She grew hot, and not just on the outside, imagining one of Anton Pallis’s beautiful and sophisticated lovers casually strolling the rails choosing something to wear to please her man, and she backed away from the opening as if the room contained a coven of hissing snakes.
‘Anthea, I th-think you’ve shown me into someone else’s bedroom.’ She tried to sound casual about it but inside her a strange crashing feeling was taking place.
‘No, no, these are for you.’ The Greek woman hurried forward to go and stand in the space Zoe had just back away from. ‘Anton had them flown out here this afternoon, for he said you had been forced to leave your home so fast it would not occur to you that April is much hotter here than it is in England.’
Dealing with the sinking feeling of relief that she wasn’t intruding on someone else’s domain, Zoe enquired, ‘So, where are my own things?’
‘In here too. See?’ With a sweeping-arm gesture, Anthea invited her to step forward again. Sure enough, around the edge of the door her things hung or lay neatly folded in a corner looking dark, drab and pathetically few. On closer inspection, as she drifted her eyes over the new clothes, she could see that the style and the fabrics were far more in keeping with a holiday on a Greek island.
For once she did not mock Anton’s autocratic belief that he could just do whatever he wanted to do because he believed he knew best. Nothing here screamed high-fashion designer label at her, though the clothes were of a class way more expensive than the high-street bargains she had only ever been able to afford. And no black amongst them, she noticed, just bright and vibrant primary colours and soft, summery pastels.
Frowning, because she did not like the idea that Anton had been spending money on her she could not afford to pay back, Anthea questioned anxiously, ‘You do not like the clothes, thespinis?’
Ungrateful and mean-minded, Zoe accused herself, and turned a smile on the Greek woman. ‘Of course I like the clothes,’ she assured Anthea. ‘I’m just finding it—difficult to take in how everyone has gone to so much trouble for Toby and me.’
‘Ah.’ Anthea flipped her thanks away with the flick of a hand. ‘The way those media dogs hung around your doorstep was a disgrace! It is a good thing in my opinion that Anton brought you here, for that kind of thing will not be tolerated on Thalia. Indeed, Anton has gone into town to personally oversee the removal of the reporters who arrived by boat this afternoon. So you relax now,’ she advised as she turned to walk across the room. ‘You are safe here. Martha will sit with the baby so all you need to do is be comfortable. I will serve dinner in an hour.’
Alone at last, Zoe turned to stare at the bedroom with its big, chunky bed covered in snow-white hand-laced bedding and the rivers of the finest muslin flowing down from the ceiling at the head of the bed. She tried to imagine herself climbing into that bed in her grey cotton pyjamas while clutching a magazine and a mug of hot cocoa as she would do at home. It did not work. Perhaps her thoughtful saviour had covered that pending horror and provided silk nightwear?
She would have to take a look later, but for now … she headed for the bathroom. Forty minutes later—having showered and changed into a white halterneck dress she’d spied on one of the hangers in the dressing room and could not resist trying on—she went to check on Toby and found him blissfully at peace in his huge cot, which made her laugh softly as she leaned over the rail to look at him taking up less than a quarter of the space. Martha was curled up on the sofa surrounded by study books and after a few enquires Zoe discovered the young girl was almost eighteen and swatting for a place at university on the mainland—with Anton’s help, of course.
Having left Martha contentedly reading, Zoe wandered down the stairs. She still had ten minutes to kill before it was time for dinner so she used a few of those minutes up taking a look around. Each room she peeped into had a quietly understated style about it which belied the impression she had of Anton Pallis as a sharply modern, outgoing man.
She found the dining room—there were actually two of them—a large, rather grand formal-looking one and this smaller, more intimate room with the circular table already set for its lone diner. Not the most appealing prospect, Zoe mused as she walked along the room towards the pair of long windows she saw standing open at the other end.
Outside on the terrace she paused to glance around. It was so quiet she felt as if she was the only person left in the world. The darkness folded around everything beyond the soft light coming from the house, and the air felt like warm silk each time she breathed it into her lungs. In all of her life she had never experienced quiet like this; it held the true definition of hush.
At home she’d been used to the sound of London’s never-ending traffic, planes flying into Heathrow, trains rattling past on the track not far away. Even inside the house, quiet was something filled with knocks and bangs and the muffled voices of her neighbours leaking in through the walls either side.
Restless suddenly, she rubbed at her arms with her fingers as she tracked a short way down the terrace, passing beautiful cream-upholstered rattan sofas and chairs set like outside rooms around glass-topped tables. Even out here Anton’s home had a quiet elegance about it, she saw. Feeling a sudden breeze pick up, she lifted up her chin to catch hold of its mildly cooling effect.
It was then that she saw them. A fizz, fizz, fizz of glorious excitement caught hold of her and she let out a soft gasp of delight. Like someone being invited into fairyland, she ran out into the garden, felt the soft crush of grass beneath her shoes and did not stop until she was standing surrounded by complete darkness. Then and only then did she allow herself to tilt her head again and look up at the
wondrous star-studded night sky.
On his way up the path through the trees which led up from the beach, Anton was in no hurry to reach home. This whole day had been one long link of aggravating problems and he was tired and fed up, though watching the boat-load of reporters sail off into the sunset had momentarily cheered him. Hopefully the word would get around to others who fancied trying their luck here that if they so much as stuck a toe over the tidal line they would not enjoy spending hours in the stuffy confines of Thalia’s tiny customs office trying to convince a stubbornly deaf officer that they were not a boatful of illegal immigrants attempting to sneak onto the island.
A grim smile touched his lips as he drew towards the end of the path which would give him access onto his front lawn. Milos Loukas could be infuriatingly thorough when he wanted to be. Every passport had to be checked by telephone for its authenticity. Even his own Greek patriots were treated with suspicion and forced to endure the same checks. By the time Anton had arrived on the scene, all six reporters had been more than ready to beg him to get the customs officer off their backs. But it was a case of allowing the official his hour of importance and just taking a back seat until Milos was ready to release them into Anton’s care.
Perhaps he should have joined them on their departing boat, he mused, because he’d missed his chance to fly away, which left him with little choice but to come home for the night.
But he did not want to be here. He did not want to suffer the aggravation of another fight with Zoe Kanellis, or worse risk feeding his growing desire.
The sound of a woman’s delighted laughter ringing out into the darkness brought his head up and he pulled to a stop. He had decided to delay his arrival here by walking the two miles home from the village via the beach; his eyes had adjusted to the darkness but still he found himself questioning what it was he was staring at.
The Kanellis Scandal Page 8