They did some work on his book, but not much. Mysteriously Stein seemed to lose the inclination to concentrate on it. One afternoon, when he did get down to doing a little revising in the study, he told her he might be leaving Kalnos for a week or two.
'I'm going to London, possibly for an operation,' he shrugged, almost as if he were discussing the weather. 'There might be a chance of regaining my sight.'
It seemed several seconds before Sandra could speak, before she could pull herself together sufficiently to answer. She felt shocked, consumed by a great anxiety, but was glad he had no idea how his abruptly given news distressed her. 'You didn't have to spring it on me like that,' she protested apprehensively. 'Isn't there a risk? Shouldn't you have tests?'
Laconically he grunted, 'I had those some time ago.'
'Then why — why have you waited?'
Again he shrugged. 'I'm not sure. Perhaps I couldn't make up my mind.'
She had a suspicion this wasn't the true reason, but she was more concerned with the danger. 'I asked if there wasn't a risk.'
He turned towards the window. 'If there's any chance of being able to see again I think I should take it. Nothing can be guaranteed, of course, but I've decided to give it a go. I've little to lose. I sent word with the helicopter when it brought the mail last week. When it returns I expect to hear they can take me and will probably leave immediately.' Sandra felt an excruciating anguish, so real she might have fainted. How could he talk so casually about anything so serious? He discussed it as lightly as if he were contemplating a day's fishing!
When she didn't reply at once he came back, reaching for her, his voice harsh as he drew her up to him. 'What's the matter, girl? Don't you like the idea of my being able to see? You won't be able to hide so much from me then.' 'Oh, shut up!' Her feelings in a turmoil, she apologised bleakly, 'I'm sorry, Stein, but you never tell me anything! How many times have I asked about your eyes? How often would I willingly have given mine so you might see!' Her voice rose passionately. 'You've always refused to discuss anything. You could at least have told me about the tests! Now you spring the whole lot on me — and in such a manner.'
'If I didn't talk about it,' he returned grimly, 'it was because there were things I wanted to forget. And, if you'd known, perhaps you wouldn't have married me and I shouldn't have had the revenge I craved. Your concern might move me,' he jeered, 'if I were able to believe it was genuine.'
Dispirited, Sandra gazed at him. He probably couldn't wait to get a divorce and continue his broken association with Sophy. Once his sight was returned and he was free again that should be easy. 'However much you wanted revenge it could scarcely have been worth the trouble of getting married to me, of coming here,' she said painfully. 'That's a matter of opinion,' he replied cryptically. 'Stein?' He must feel her trembling, but she couldn't help it. She must ignore his cruel words, but she couldn't take no notice of the fear in her heart. Fear which seemed to be taking over completely. Her hands clutched at him, as if full of the frantic strength of her own torment. 'If there's any risk I'd rather you didn't have this operation. I wouldn't mind staying here with you forever.'
His laughter was crucifying, as was the harsh twist of his mouth that went with it. 'What a charmingly generous suggestion, my dear. Am I supposed to be grateful? Is half a loaf so much better than no bread at all that you feel forced to make such an offer? I don't doubt you find your present way of life very comfortable, but I assure you, you will be well enough compensated to resume living in England in much the same manner.'
Aghast, she shrank back. Stein, like this, was a stranger. There seemed nothing left to say, and hadn't she humiliated herself enough? What more did he expect of her? 'I'm sorry,' she said numbly, 'if I've been stupidly obtrusive. Of course you must go to London. When is the helicopter coming? I must pack our things.'
'I expect it any time,' he replied coolly, removing her clinging hands, 'but there's no question of you coming to London. My old friend Professor Manoli is coming with me. You will go back to Corfu and stay with my grandmother.'
CHAPTER NINE
The helicopter arrived next day. By this time Sandra was all packed and waiting, resigned in a way she scarcely understood herself. The shock of Stein's announcement about his operation hadn't abated, but she forced herself to face up to it. He had left her with little other option; no amount of pleading had moved him, he refused to listen. Quite clearly he didn't want her, and she had no other course but to agree to go to Corfu.
Last night she had felt so miserable that she had gone to her old room. She hadn't known whether she meant to stay. She had actually cried herself to sleep, and whether or not Stein had come looking for her she didn't know. When she woke that morning she had still been alone, alone and curiously beset by haunting fears. It was as if Stein had already decided that the brief interlude on Kalnos was over and the sooner he made a start of severing their odd relationship the better.
At breakfast Thyra mentioned that he had gone with Panos to the village on business but would be back in time to go with Madame when the mail arrived. It surprised Sandra that he was so confident that the news he awaited would come this morning, but it did, and she suspected his arrangements must have been at least half made some time ago.
She bade Thyra and Panos, the only two islanders she had really got to know, goodbye. Stein must have said why they were going but the woman was cheerful and seemed as though she expected them back quite soon. Sandra didn't disillusion her.
In the helicopter Stein told her a little more. Professor Manoli would be waiting on Corfu; tomorrow they would leave for England. Sandra must stay on Corfu where he would arrange to let her know the outcome of his operation. As soon as he was able he would endeavour to get their marriage sorted out and see she was well provided for. Until then she must stay where he could be sure she was being well looked after. He was strangely remote, his curtly given advice seeming more like an order, and far from reassuring it only made her more miserable.
It seemed rather noisy at the villa after the remote quietness of Kalnos. Madame Kartalis was in her element, fussing over Stein and entertaining the Professor. Sophy called later in the afternoon, as did Madame Nikitiadis and her two daughters, and Stein appeared to regard this miniature invasion quite calmly. Sandra thought he might have been annoyed that his grandmother had so obviously spread the news of his operation but, if he was, he raised no verbal objection. Not while Sandra was around, anyway.
While she was around he took the opportunity to be derisive about other things. It hadn't occurred to her that, this time, she might naturally be expected to share Stein's old room, and she changed swiftly for dinner in order to avoid him when he came up. For once she felt grateful that Sophy was keeping him engaged in a lengthy conversation. Sandra was pleased she was quite ready, just laying his shirt out on the bed when he came and, after he had thanked her sarcastically for still continuing her wifely duties, she plucked up courage to tackle him about it.
'If you had a word with Katrina,' she suggested nervously, 'I'm sure she could find me something somewhere else.'
When he promised, mildly enough, to see what he could do she felt both dispirited and relieved. 'I'll leave it to you, then.' She made an effort to speak lightly, as she turned to leave him, and wasn't prepared that he should catch her wrist as she paused.
'So now you're away from the island you find any thought of sharing my room distasteful?'
His darkly handsome face was so hard she dared do nothing but be evasive. 'I'd scarcely put it so bluntly.'
'No?' His hand tightened, sliding up her bare arm as he pulled her against him, with little regard for her carefully neat toilet He didn't kiss her but dropped his head to her slender shoulder, breathing in deeply the delicate perfume of her skin. 'So you've decided to keep me at a distance? Have you forgotten how much you enjoy being in my arms? You can't hide the way I'm able to make you feel, you can be a shameless little hussy when you like.' Indignation caused
her to gasp, as she tried to escape the blatant seduction of his wandering mouth. 'I think you've a nerve speaking like that, when you've done nothing but talk of divorce! I suppose you feel you can make love to both me and
Sophy and get away with it?'
'But she isn't my wife,' he taunted, 'and it seems sense that I should make do with the one I have at the moment. A bird in the hand — remember?'
She wouldn't believe he could be so callous, especially to someone whose heart was bursting with love and concern for him. Hate welled, beating down every other emotion.
'You're beastly!' she cried, wrenching away from him. 'I think perhaps I'll be well rid of you!'
'I wouldn't be in such a hurry,' he advised. 'It might be wiser to wait a few weeks.'
'I suppose you mean because of your operation?' Hardening her heart still further, she exclaimed bitterly. 'Always your convenience!'
'Not only that,' he returned suavely. 'Have you ever thought there could be any repercussions to the nights you've spent in my arms?'
'Oh, no!' She felt her lips go white, her whole body cold even to think of it. If Stein had loved her — she stared at him blankly, a pulse beating frantically at the base of her
throat—she wouldn't have minded. In fact, she couldn't think of anything she might have wanted more, but not this way. Never like this!
Stein, as if mistaking her silence for horror, pursued cruelly, 'You wouldn't want my child, but neither would you want to have it alone. Heaven knows we haven't done anything to prevent it happening, and you didn't remind me. Just another snare you probably set to entrap me.'
The evening meal, served late and by candlelight, seemed the longest Sandra had ever sat through. Her mind seemed frozen, along with every other part of her, and she hoped feverishly that Stein's suspicions would be proved untrue. She couldn't bear to contemplate a future with Stein feeling forced to remain by her side, trapped, as he said, by his own folly! Yet in spite of his contempt she found her gaze returning to him constantly as he sat by Sophy's side, apparently enjoying the meal, Sandra thought despairingly, that threatened to choke her.
While they were drinking coffee she managed to speak to Professor Manoli, to ask him about Stein's operation. When he hesitated, she pressed urgently, 'I won't pretend he's given me anything but the bare facts. He doesn't seem to realise how worried I am.'
Again he was reluctant, his frown emphasising his discomfort. 'If he really doesn't want you to know about it...' 'But I must!'
'My dear child,' the Professor looked long and intently into her flushed, unhappy face, her wide, anxious eyes, 'surely it is wrong to persist. If your husband won't...' 'Professor!' she interrupted without apology, 'I'm not asking you to give away professional secrets. I would just like to be told briefly what's involved, how much danger there'll be. Stein merely shrugs it all off, just like a visit to the dentist.'
After another moment's scrutiny Professor Manoli smiled sympathetically. Taking her arm, he led her out on to the terrace. 'I'm sure there's not that much need for secrecy, my dear. The eye, as you must know, is an extremely delicate instrument, a highly specialised receptor of the nervous system and, once damaged can lead to all sorts of complications, complete loss of sight being perhaps the worst of them ... '
The professor wasn't particularly long-winded and it didn't really take him long to explain how Stein's accident had damaged the optic nerves, but subsequent tests had proved that some of the damage, in his case, had healed, providing a condition where an operation was possible. An operation which might, if successful, give Stein back his sight.
'Is there — will there be any danger?' Sandra faltered, when he had finished, the thickness of tears in her voice, a bitter taste of nausea in her mouth.
'I'd be a fool to pretend there wasn't a certain element of risk in any operation,' he said bluntly. 'There are very few things we can guarantee absolutely, but danger is a word I prefer not to use. Just remember this is his decision and he can be no worse off, if he's no better. But he has the indomitable spirit, your husband, child. I have known him all his life.'
He maybe needed it, she guessed shrewdly, while feeling very indebted to the Professor, to whom she bade a grateful goodnight.
It was later than she thought, most of the guests being gone by the time she returned from the terrace, and she ran upstairs, leaving Stein to drink a nightcap with Professor Manoli. Madame Kartalis appeared also to have retired.
Daringly, Sandra peeped into her old room, only to find it must have been given to the Professor as his things were strewn around, his books piled on the table beside the bed. There could be no hope for her here.
Tensely she retraced her steps to Stein's room, waiting for him, feeling too overwrought to relax, especially after her conversation with the Professor. He had meant to be reassuring—he had been reassuring; it was just the whole idea of Stein's operation, that he might have to suffer pain, which was getting her down. Yet this couldn't in any way change the personal situation between them, so she must wait until Stein came, to ask if he had made other sleeping arrangements.
She was startled that he followed her very quickly, but aghast when he told her there was no other suitable room. The only other available one had been given to a maid who had been called in to help with the extra guests.
'I could always go and sleep with her,' he grinned, 'if she'd have me.'
Sandra flushed, recalling how the girl had stared at him while she helped to serve dinner. It was proof, if she needed any, that Stein was still very attractive to most women.
'I wish you'd be sensible for a change,' she retorted sharply, tearing her eyes away from the dark ruggedness of him. 'I'm sure, with your ingenuity, you could have managed something!'
Unrepentantly he grinned, strolling across to her where she stood with her back to the dressing table, gazing at him stonily, trying to hide her unhappiness. 'Go and have your bath,' he said soothingly. 'By the time you've finished I'm sure to have thought of something.'
In the bathroom, deep in a tubful of warm water, she tried to relax. She couldn't gauge his exact mood but decided to trust him. She closed her eyes, rubbing a tired, damp hand over her face. He probably intended sleeping downstairs in his grandmother's extremely comfortable sitting room. He must have known of her conversation with the Professor on the terrace. That he hadn't been angry seemed a good sign—he might be amenable. - With her eyes closed and lulled into a state of false security, she didn't hear him come in. It wasn't until she felt the water drain from the bath that she saw him standing over her, dangling the bath plug.
'You've been there long enough,' he grunted. 'I told you to have a bath, not sleep in it!'
Trying desperately to remember that he couldn't actually see her, even though his eyes seemed to glint over her, she snapped, 'Maybe you're going to do that?'
He laughed coldly, then, to her consternation, bent down and scooped her up. 'Not likely! I'm going to sleep with you, my dear. I thought I could resist the temptation, all things considered, but I find I can't.'
Her breath caught as she lay, momentarily transfixed, staring up at his face, his arms tightly around her damp body. 'Stein, you know it's all over. You said so yourself. I'd much prefer to have my hand cut off with one blow, rather than ...' Full of a terrible confusion, a perplexity at what she had been about to say, she trailed off.
'You talk too much, Madame.' He sounded curiously husky, and she had a brief glimpse of a lean, smooth cheek before a firm, well cut mouth descended on hers.
His touch filled her with ecstasy. A quiver ran through her, to every sensitive nerve in her body, as he kissed her possessively. She wanted him to kiss her but, while physically she seemed unable to resist him, her mind rebelled— so much so that she tried to evade him as he carried her towards his bed. 'Don't, Stein!' she tried to make one last protest. 'You'll only regret it!'
'Stop struggling!' His mouth crushed hers roughly so that when he released her she was breathless and fl
ushed, 'Would you
refuse to appease me? Perhaps a doomed man!' 'Don't!' It was a
moan of anguish she couldn't control, though she realised he was
merely taunting.
He put a hand under her chin, lifting her face. 'I promise it won't be as bad as that.' Removing his robe quickly, he slid down beside her, his arms going around her again. 'You don't know how much I’m looking forward to being able to see you properly, my small Sandra.'
'I'm very plain,' she gasped, the familiar reaction starting up in her limbs as a flame whipped up between them. Feeling rippled over her as warm as the sun.
'You aren't plain at all,' he contradicted, his voice thickening as his hand went to her breasts. 'You're slender and beautifully shaped, as I've told you before. You're very easy to love.'
Still she tried to fight him, as she always felt uneasily dismayed by the clamorous instincts of her too responsive body. But he was mature and experienced and dealt with her tentative rebellion ruthlessly. His mouth was insistent on her lips as he pulled her firmly against him, until the room began to spin crazily around her and she felt herself soaring wildly above it. His grip was cruel on her soft skin, but suddenly she wanted him so feverishly she didn't care. Her lips responded to the demanding passion of his and, with a small moan, she gave herself to him completely.
He made love to her that night as if he might never see her again, and an early dawn broke before they slept.
Hours later she woke, with the dreadful feeling that she was in the middle of a nightmare, to find him gone. As he usually rose early she tried to dismiss her apprehension by telling herself she would find him in the garden, but when she ran to the window she could not see him anywhere. As her eyes searched in vain for his tall figure a sudden coldness crowded out the new warmth in her heart. She had known he was leaving this morning, but surely he couldn't have gone without saying goodbye, not after last night. Everything must be different between them now. He hadn't said anything, but his lovemaking had seemed like a revelation and she had began to hope. Remembering the tenderness of his lips against her cheek as she had finally fallen asleep, she had felt sure she had come to mean something important to him. So strong was the impression that she could not immediately dismiss it, for all her instinctive feeling of dread. Dressing quickly, she brushed her hair into some semblance of tidiness and flew downstairs. Perhaps Stein was just having breakfast.
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