by Sara Craven
‘But I was telling you that the bar is closed at this time of day, unless, of course, you wish for coffee.’
She lifted her chin. ‘No thank you. I’ve only come for my sister.’
‘Then I am afraid you must look elsewhere.’ He glanced pointedly past her at the unoccupied array of glass-topped tables and small easy chairs, set in comfortable groups. ‘Most of our guests are by the pool at the back of the hotel, or on the beach. Is she a resident?’
‘You tell me. After all you’re the only one likely to know her exact whereabouts.’ She glanced at her watch.
‘So shall we stop playing games? Just take me to her and she’ll be off your hands and on the way back to Mykonos and the airport on the next ferry.’
‘An excellent plan.’ His voice was crisper. ‘But there is a problem. I do not know either your sister’s identity or where she may be found. Except it is plainly not here.’
Selena gasped. ‘You mean she’s already left? She’s on her way home?’ She glared at him. ‘I suppose I should be grateful to you, but I’m finding it difficult.’
‘It is also unnecessary. I was not aware of her presence here, or her departure. I suggest you conduct your enquiries elsewhere,’ he added with cold finality and turned as if to go back to the store room.
‘And I suggest you answer my questions,’ she flung after him, aware that she was trembling inside, and not simply with temper at being so summarily dismissed. ‘Otherwise I shall go to the police and tell them you’ve taken advantage of a vulnerable seventeen-year-old. That you’ve kept her here to have sex with her, forcing her friends to return to the UK without her, and causing endless worry to her family.’
She added contemptuously, ‘I thought the Greeks were supposed to respect foreign travellers.’
‘We do,’ he said. ‘Although your female compatriots do not always make it easy.’ The contempt was echoed and the frown was back in force. ‘She was staying here, your sister and her friends? Their names?’
‘Raymond, Marsden and—and Blake.’ She heard her voice quiver slightly and snatched at her self-command.
‘Ah, yes.’ He nodded. ‘I remember some of the staff speaking of them.’ His tone suggested the comments were not to their credit.
Well, he was the last person with any right to pass judgement.
‘Whatever their opinions, nothing justifies your behaviour, Mr Papoulis.’ She was about to say ‘And I insist you bring Millie here immediately,’ when she was stopped in her tracks by the realisation that he’d started to laugh.
‘I’m glad you’re amused,’ she said scornfully. ‘However, the police may not share your sense of humour.’
‘They may,’ he said, still grinning. ‘When they hear I have been mistaken for my own barman. And they would undoubtedly tell you that, when you burst in, all guns blazing, thespinis, you should make sure they are aimed at the right target.’
He put down the clipboard and held out his hand. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Alexis Constantinou and I own this hotel. Kostas is merely employed here, when he can take the trouble to work,’ he added sardonically. ‘But at least I know the reason for his absence this time, and that he cannot use the excuse that he is ill.’
Numb with embarrassment, and bitterly aware of the mockery in his dark eyes, Selena allowed her fingers to be gripped briefly in his.
‘So Kostas has sweet-talked your young sister into his bed,’ he went on musingly. ‘Strange. He usually confines his attentions to rather older women—the single, the divorced, so...’ He paused, his gaze once more drifting down her hair. ‘So—she must have made quite an impression.’
Her skin warming, she said tautly, ‘I don’t find that particularly reassuring.’
‘Nor would I,’ he said unexpectedly, ‘if she was my sister.’
He turned to the shelf of bottles behind him. ‘I think you need a drink, thespinis, and so do I.’ He poured something amber into two glasses and gave her one. ‘Five-star Metaxa,’ he said. ‘A universal remedy. Especially for shock.’
She said tautly, ‘You don’t seem particularly shocked over your employee’s behaviour.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘However, it is an irritation.’
He came round the bar and took the drinks to a table, motioning her to join him. She obeyed reluctantly, bringing her satchel with her.
Alexis Constantinou eyed it with faint amusement. ‘You travel light, Kyria Blake.’
‘It’s going to be a brief visit, Mr Constantinou. I intend to find my sister and persuade her to leave this—this cut-price Casanova she’s involved with and come home.’
His amusement deepened. ‘You have quite a turn of phrase, thespinis.’
‘Thank you.’ She added tautly, ‘And if I may say so, perhaps you ought to exercise more vigilance over your staff’s out-of-hours activities.’
‘I make sure they do their job,’ he said. ‘I do not claim to be anyone’s moral guardian. And perhaps your sister and her friends are the ones in need of guidance.’
‘How dare you,’ she flared. ‘Millie is totally inexperienced. He’s taken advantage of her innocence.’
‘You paint a moving picture,’ he said, clearly remaining unmoved. ‘Now let us drink.’ He raised his glass, touching it to the one she was holding, ‘Yamas. That means—to our health.’
She didn’t like the way the toast seemed to unite them, but took a cautious sip, suppressing a gasp as it trailed fire down her throat.
‘What is that?’ she asked when she could speak.
‘Brandy. To give you strength for your search. And—to calm you.’
She bit her lip. ‘I’m perfectly calm, thank you.’ And wished it was true. Because she was suddenly all too aware of him watching her. Glanced away and found herself instead looking at the hand clasping his glass. At the long fingers and well-kept nails, and the way his thumb was playing with the glass’s stem.
Even with the width of the table between them, he seemed too close for comfort.
She went on hurriedly, ‘If you’ll just give me Mr Papoulis’s address, I’ll go and let you get back to—whatever you were doing.’
‘Stock-taking,’ he said. ‘As for Kostas’s address,’ he added with a shrug, ‘I doubt if that will help. Like the rest of the staff, when he is working, he has a room here, but this, I am told, he has not used for several days.’
The implication in his words was obvious, Selena thought, swallowing.
‘And when he’s not working?’ she demanded.
‘He lives with his widowed mother,’ he said. ‘But she is very pious, so I doubt you will find your Millie there, either.’
She said half to herself, ‘Then what am I going to do?’
‘I am sure that is not a request for my advice,’ he drawled. ‘But I shall offer it just the same. Go home, thespinis, and wait for your sister to come to her senses.’
She took another gulp of brandy. ‘And if he’s keeping her here against her will?’
‘Once again you are allowing your taste for the dramatic to run away with you,’ Alexis Constantinou said softly. ‘Kostas, believe me, has no need to use force.’
‘You take all this so lightly.’ Her voice shook. ‘When I’m worried sick, and I—I can’t leave without her.’
She paused. ‘I shall have to go to the police.’
‘I would prefer that not to happen.’
Her voice rose indignantly. ‘You’re actually protecting him?’
‘No,’ he said, with faint grimness. ‘I am protecting the reputation of my hotel. And for that, I am prepared to help you. Give me a day, maybe two, to make enquiries. To find where he is and if your sister is indeed with him. But that is all. After that, it is up to you. Do you agree?’
Selena stared down at the table. Almost in spite of herself, she could feel the warmth of the brandy quelling her inner trembling. A sense of something like hope growing in its place. Which was, of course, quite ridiculous under the circumstances.
‘Because stock-taking bores me,’ he said. ‘I want my barman back. His absence is inconvenient.’
She glared at him. She said mutinously, ‘In that case—I suppose we have a deal.’ She reached for her satchel and got to her feet. ‘Thank you for the drink, and I hope your plan succeeds.’
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I need to know where to contact you.’ He eyed her narrowly. ‘You have made a reservation, found a place to stay, of course.’
She hesitated. Fatally. ‘Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll find somewhere.’
‘I do not doubt it.’ His tone was cynical. ‘With that hair and those eyes, pedhi mou, you will be overwhelmed with offers in the first moment. In fact, your sister, wherever she may be, is probably much safer.’
She was shaken by that altogether too intimate reference to her appearance. She said coldly, ‘I’m a university student, Mr Constantinou. I can look after myself. I can make my own arrangements—and my own enquiries.’
‘The English, I think, have a saying,’ he drawled. ‘“Famous last words.” Perhaps you know it.’
‘Nevertheless...’
‘Nevertheless, thespinis, you will not go into the town asking for a room to rent. I shall not permit it. Besides, how can you enquire about anything when you do not speak Greek?’
He rose to his feet. ‘The Olympia is fully booked, but I have a small flat on the top floor for my personal use. You may stay there.’
‘We have another quaint old saying in my country.’ She faced him, lifting her chin. ‘“Out of the frying pan into the fire.” Maybe you’ve heard that, too.’
He said silkily, ‘And you, pedhi mou, should not jump to conclusions. I shall stay at my house, the Villa Helios, on the other side of the island. A safe enough distance, wouldn’t you say?’
There were a lot of things she would like to have said, but she only managed a reluctant, ‘Thank you.’
Alexis Constantinou nodded. ‘Now I will speak to my housekeeper about your accommodation. And you perhaps should finish your brandy.’
As he walked to the door, Selena said, ‘Why have you changed your mind suddenly? I—I don’t understand.’
‘You think I should not concern myself over the well-being of an innocent and inexperienced girl?’
‘A moment ago you were implying that Millie’s problems are all of her own making.’
‘I still do,’ he said. ‘But the innocent I speak of is not your sister, thespinis, but yourself.’
And he walked out of the bar, leaving Selena staring after him.
CHAPTER THREE
‘EXCUSE ME, DO you want to order anything else? Only there are people waiting for tables.’
The aggrieved tone of the waitress jolted Selena back to the present.
‘I’ve finished, thank you.’ She tried a smile. ‘I’m sorry, I was miles away.’
Worlds away. An ocean of pain away, she thought as the girl gathered up the used crockery and walked away with a faint sniff.
Back in the honeyed trap that she’d thought was kindness. Caught by a man who was neither innocent nor inexperienced.
And now she had to go back to where it all happened. To Rhymnos—the place where she’d ruined her life and broken her heart.
At the same time, it was her chance to prove to herself that she had survived. Even mended.
As she left, she passed the young couple waiting for her table, and saw that the man was wearing a baby sling across his chest, cradling an infant obviously in its first weeks of life, its over-large cotton sun hat slipping down over a red, crumpled, sleeping face.
Saw, too, the way the young father looked down proudly at his child, then exchanged smiles with the pretty girl beside him in shared delight.
Selena felt a sudden twist of agony inside her, as if a hand had reached into her and wrenched at her heart, then she turned slowly and walked away, to tackle her final and most important problem.
The interview had proved just as difficult as she’d anticipated, she thought unhappily as she walked home.
‘You’re going on holiday?’ Mrs Talbot had radiated disapproval. ‘Do you think that’s appropriate?’
‘Unavoidable, I’m afraid,’ Selena had returned quietly. ‘And it’s hardly a holiday. My sister is ill.’
‘All the same, you’ll be missing scheduled visits, which is very disappointing—for everyone.’
She was almost tempted to cancel, but, in the end, she simply sent Kostas a text with the time of her flight.
She made herself a cheese salad before she emptied and cleaned the fridge. Then she stuffed the contents of her linen basket into a large carrier bag, and set off to the nearby launderette.
She’d taken a book to read, but she found it difficult to lose herself in the story when other thoughts, other memories persisted in intervening. In pushing aside all other considerations.
Forcing her to go back to that first day on Rhymnos and that fateful encounter at the Hotel Olympia.
Left alone in the bar, she’d taken one more sip of brandy, then pushed the glass away. She’d already made one idiotic mistake, she reminded herself, and there was no need to muddle her thinking any further.
Because she had to decide very quickly whether to remain here and accept the help Alexis Constantinou had offered, or grab her bag and run.
In principle, her mission had seemed simple enough. Come to the hotel, confront this Kostas, who might be having second thoughts himself by now, and convince Millie that a holiday romance was not a commitment for life, and it was time to go home.
It had never occurred to her, or presumably Aunt Nora, that the pair might disappear.
And where would she go, anyway? If the Olympia was full, it might not be easy to find a respectable alternative—although Alexis Constantinou’s offer of his private flat hardly qualified as that, either, in spite of his assurances.
And relying solely on a Greek phrasebook wasn’t going to be much help in tracking down the runaways.
I should have done more homework in advance, she thought bitterly. If I’d been allowed to, of course.
However, she was here now, and her main concern was finding Millie, for which, galling as it might be, she probably needed the help of Alexis Constantinou.
It doesn’t matter, she told herself, gritting her teeth. After all, the sooner you trace Millie, the quicker you can leave.
Suddenly restless, she rose and wandered over to the glass doors, which ran the length of one side of the bar, and walked out on to the balcony beyond with its flight of marble steps leading down to another area of garden, bright with flowers and shrubs and surrounded by hibiscus hedges. And beyond that, hazy with heat, the infinite blue of the Aegean.
Apart from a faint sound of splashing from the pool area, it was very quiet.
If I was here for a different reason, just one guest among many, I’d probably not want to leave, either, she realised with a swift pang.
She remained where she was, letting the peace soak into her, until a sound from the bar behind her made her turn hurriedly in time to see a tall, thin man with a heavy black moustache place a tray with a pot of coffee and a plate of pastries on her table.
‘For you, thespinis,’ he announced. ‘Kyrios Alexis, he say it is long before dinner.’
‘Oh,’ Selena said disconcerted. ‘Thank you.’ Then remembering one of the words she’d learned on the plane, she added, ‘Efharisto.’
He inclined his head. ‘Parakalo,’ he returned politely. ‘I am Stelios and I manage the hotel for Kyrios Alexis. Anything you wish for, please ask me.’
Presumably that did not include a missing sister, Selena thought as he vanished.
The coffee was a strong filter brew, and the food turned out to be delicious little cheese tarts, still warm from the oven. Selena ate every scrap.
She had just drained her final cup when she was joined by a middle-aged woman wearing a neat black dress and an air
of unmistakable authority.
She pointed to herself. ‘Androula, thespinis. Housekeeper. Your room waits for you.’
She picked up the satchel and waited for Selena to accompany her.
A lift at the side of the foyer whisked them to the third floor. Androula led the way along the corridor to a pair of double doors at the end, which she unlocked, then stood aside allowing Selena to precede her into a spacious sitting room, with comfortable sofas and chairs upholstered in deep blue linen grouped round a massive square coffee table, its surface tiled in cream and gold.
As she looked round her, two girls emerged from another room, one carrying an expensive leather suitcase, the other a linen laundry bag.
As they passed Selena, they smiled shyly, but their eyes were alive with curiosity.
They must be wondering why they’ve been asked to clear the decks, she thought drily. However, it seemed that their boss was a man of his word after all and she only wished she could feel more at ease with the situation.
The bedroom was uncompromisingly masculine, almost disturbingly so, with shutters at the windows instead of drapes, dark fitted furniture, and what seemed to Selena to be an ultra-wide bed, made up with immaculate white linen, and a brown and gold coverlet in a Greek key pattern folded at its foot.
A door in the corner led into a bathroom almost as big as the bedroom, with a large walk-in shower as well as a tub, and twin basins in the long mirrored vanity unit, indicating, perhaps, that the owner did not always lack for company.
As if, she reminded herself swiftly, it was any business of hers.
Nevertheless it seemed she would be maintained pretty much in the lap of luxury during her brief stay, although she would have to make it clear to Mr Constantinou at their next encounter that she’d come prepared to pay for her board and lodging.
At least Aunt Nora has allowed for that, she thought. So I won’t be obliged to be in his debt more than I can help.