The Power of the Legendary Greek

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The Power of the Legendary Greek Page 14

by Catherine George


  ‘I can’t keep my promise,’ he panted, and she gave him a smile the original Adam would have recognised.

  ‘Break it, then,’ she whispered, and gave a gasp of pure, unadulterated pleasure as he obeyed.

  This time there was no gradual acceleration of their loving. Isobel was as wild as Luke from the start, and all too soon found herself throbbing in the throes of a climax which overtook her several seconds before his body collapsed on hers in his own convulsive release. She lay stunned as her heart began to slow down, but at last, when oxygen became a necessity, she pushed at Luke’s shoulders and in one movement he lifted himself from her and rolled so that she lay on top of him instead.

  ‘Better?’ he asked, smiling at her, lazy-eyed, as he held her in place, skin to skin.

  ‘I liked having you lie on me, but in the end I couldn’t breathe.’ She bent her head to kiss him. ‘Will you be able to hear when the car comes back?’

  ‘Spiro will gun the engine down to the house, making as much noise as possible,’ he assured her, grinning.

  ‘You told him to do that?’

  ‘No. Spiro is a man, and Greek. I had no need to tell him.’

  Isobel sniffed. ‘I suppose he’s used to it.’

  His eyebrow arched. ‘And what, kyria Isobel, do you mean by that?’

  She felt suddenly very vulnerable, sprawled naked, and by the sudden tightening of his arms, with no hope of getting free. Her eyes fell, unable to meet the look of hot possession in his.

  ‘I have never brought a woman to the Villa Medusa before,’ he said with emphasis. ‘This is my private retreat. Or it was—’

  ‘Until I trespassed,’ she finished for him. ‘Let me up, please.’

  ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘Not until you atone for doubting me.’

  She eyed him stormily and tried to wriggle free, but he held her fast and too late she realised that her attempts to escape had such an inflammatory effect on him she was suddenly flat on her back again and Luke was holding her prisoner in an entirely different way.

  ‘All—right, I—believe you,’ she said with difficulty.

  ‘Too late. You must pay the penalty,’ he said roughly.

  And, sooner than she would have believed possible, Luke was making love to her again, with an added edge that sent delicious thrills through her body as he claimed it with mastery which sent them both rocketing to another climax even more powerful than the first.

  ‘So do you believe me now?’ he panted as he pulled away, holding her so close against him Isobel could feel his heartbeat as his taut body began to relax.

  ‘Yes. I do. But you have other women in Athens—’

  ‘In the past, yes. But there is no one in my life now, I swear. I was brought up to tell the truth, Isobel.’ He turned her face up to his. ‘And so were you, ne? So tell me, agapi mou, are your feelings warmer to me now?’

  ‘Warmer than what, exactly?’

  ‘You were very hostile towards me at first.’

  She sniffed. ‘Only because you were so hostile to me, Lukas Andreadis.’

  He smoothed the uneven lock of hair back from her forehead. ‘When you return, will you tell your friend Joanna about me?’

  ‘Of course. She’ll be only too glad that I met someone who could make me forget the Gavin episode. Joanna never liked him. Neither did March, her husband.’

  ‘You like your friend’s husband?’

  ‘Very much. Seeing them so happy together almost changes my mind about marriage.’

  His eyes narrowed intently. ‘But not enough to want it for yourself.’

  ‘Never. As I told you before, marriage doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest. I enjoy my independence too much—’ She tensed as she heard the Jeep approaching the house. ‘Luke, hurry, they’re back!’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THEY were late leaving for the taverna. Isobel had taken a shower as soon as Luke left her, and then collapsed on her bed to sleep for a while, while Luke spent the time in consultation with Andres before standing lost in thought under his own shower.

  So Isobel disliked the idea of marriage. Which was good, because so did he. But there was nothing to keep them from being lovers. He smiled as he lay on his bed, which was a lot larger than the one in the guest room. He made a note to bring Isobel here to sleep with him once he had persuaded her to stay for a while. The heat and pleasure of lovemaking was something he’d experienced often enough in his life, but in the past it had soon died away, leaving nothing to replace it other than fond regret when the parting of the ways arrived, as it always did. But Isobel was different. Making love with her surpassed all other experiences in his life to such an extent it seemed to touch his soul. But he also took great pleasure in her company as they talked and ate and swam and simply spent time together. He would make her see that leaving him was not an option yet. But his persuasion must be subtle. He must accustom her to the idea by degrees, paint an irresistible picture of what they could have together. But it was best to wait until the agonising moment of their parting when her only answer could be yes. Miss Isobel James must be convinced beyond all doubt that fate had not only sent her to him, but meant her to stay here with him for the foreseeable future.

  The evening at the taverna was lively. Luke and Isobel were welcomed with open arms, with much admiration for Luke’s part in the dramatic rescue of the beautiful Miss James. Nikos Nicolaides, in particular, felt a proprietorial pleasure about this, since Lukas had met the lady because she came to spend a holiday in one of his properties.

  The evening was a further celebration of life for Isobel, a time to rejoice with people who so obviously thought the world not only of Luke, but had felt the same about his mother.

  ‘They’re all very fond of you,’ Isobel told him on the way home.

  ‘And I of them. This is why Chyros is such a special place to me. People here remember how hard I had to work to achieve my success; therefore no one resents it.’ His voice dropped a tone. ‘And you, Isobel? Has your experience here turned you against my island?’

  ‘No, of course not. I’ll always treasure my memories of Eleni and Spiro, and Alyssa and her family. And you.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘I’d planned to do so many things while I was here, take a trip to Serifos and some of the other islands, also paint a few watercolours I could put on sale back home in the gallery.’

  ‘But the only trip you made was against your will, to a barren island with no legends of any kind. So I shall take you wherever you want to go,’ he promised as they turned down the tree-lined drive to the villa. ‘I spoke to Andres earlier, by the way. The Karras sisters finally confessed in their more lucid moments that they hired both men, who are workers on the Karras family estate up north.’

  ‘Did the women order the kidnapper to kill me once they got the ransom?’ asked Isobel as he lifted her out of the jeep.

  Luke held her tightly for a moment, kissed her fiercely, then set her on her feet. ‘If they did, they chose the wrong man to commit murder for them. Which is why he told me where to find you. Not that it mattered, because I had found you first.’

  ‘Thank God,’ said Isobel, and buried her face against his chest. ‘I confess that I was bit frightened, Luke.’

  ‘Enough to give you nightmares,’ he agreed as they went into the house. ‘I think I should guard you from them again tonight, ne?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said fervently as Luke bent to pick her up.

  ‘I can walk now.’

  He slid an arm round her waist. ‘Like this, then.’

  Isobel leaned against him happily. ‘Like this,’ she agreed with a sigh. ‘I had such a good time tonight, Luke.’

  ‘So did I, hriso mou. Are you tired?’

  ‘Just pleasantly so.’

  ‘Where would you like to go tomorrow?’

  ‘I’d like to explore Chyros properly,’ she said eagerly. ‘Since I’ve been here at the villa I’ve seen only quick glimpses of it. And the day you rescued me I travelled b
ack to the villa rolled up in a rug like Cleopatra.’

  Luke closed her bedroom door behind them and took her in his arms. ‘You shall do whatever you want tomorrow, Isobel, I promise. But tonight we do what I want. Tell me you want it, too, kardia mou.’

  ‘You know I do,’ she said honestly, her eyes falling before the blaze in his as he picked her up to put her on the bed.

  Later, when Isobel was quiet at last in Luke’s arms, he lay with his face buried in her hair for a long time before he raised his head to look into her heavy eyes.

  ‘It was never like this for me with others,’ he said in a tone which melted her bones.

  She heaved in a long unsteady breath, wanting passionately to believe him. ‘Nor for me, either.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Though there have been fewer others by far in my life, Lukas Andreadis.’

  ‘I can tell,’ he said with satisfaction.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Because you are so plainly—and enchantingly—surprised by the joy we find together, ne?’

  Surprised seemed hardly the word. Luke’s caresses had been revelations, not only in themselves, but in her wildly uninhibited response to them. ‘I said it was different with you,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Because I am a good lover?’

  ‘You want marks for your performance?’ she demanded, laughing, and he smiled smugly.

  ‘No. Your response was accolade enough, agapi mou.’

  Isobel laughed again, and Luke rolled over, hugging her to him.

  ‘Now we sleep. Tomorrow we explore my island.’

  And soon after that she would be leaving. Secure in Luke’s arms, Isobel firmly shut all thought of the future away and concentrated on the blissful present.

  The programme Luke had mapped out was everything that Isobel could have wished for except that it made the time go by far too quickly. He took her on a tour of Chyros the next day, as promised, and drove up beyond the villa, following a road which wound up through olive groves and stands of pines. They passed a monastery, with a white dome glimmering like a pearl in its crown of cypress, and soon afterwards Luke halted on a promontory of rock near the highest point of the island, with a view of such beauty spread out below Isobel wished she had brushes and paint to capture it.

  ‘You can make a painting from here next time you come,’ said Luke, reading her mind.

  Her face fell. ‘I won’t be coming back.’

  He shook his head, the sun catching glints of gold in the bronze curls. ‘You will return for Alyssa’s wedding, ne?’

  ‘No, Luke. I can’t expect my boss to let me take more time off. And I need the job.’

  He gave her a long introspective look, then started the car without further argument. Which left Isobel more forlorn than ever. A touch more coaxing would have been nice.

  Over dinner Luke gave Isobel details of the conversation he’d had with Andres while she was reading on the veranda earlier. ‘I am sorry it took the entire afternoon, but there was much to catch up on with the airline, also with my freighters. And,’ he added dramatically, ‘Andres had more news of the Karras sisters. Loss of the ransom money, added to claustrophobia at being locked up separately, tipped them over the edge into insanity. They have been committed to a secure mental institution.’ He leaned to grasp Isobel’s hand. ‘So you can sleep easy now, agapi mou.’ His eyes narrowed suddenly as he gazed out over the pool. ‘Do you want a trip in the Athena tomorrow?’

  ‘Why? Is there something you’d rather do?’

  ‘Zeus, yes,’ he said with feeling, and smiled into her eyes. ‘I think Eleni and Spiro should take the day off tomorrow to visit family.’

  Isobel frowned. ‘I thought they didn’t have a family.’

  ‘No children, but they have numerous relatives all over the island. They must be anxious to bring them up to date on what happened here at the villa. Eleni can leave food for us and Spiro can take the Cherokee.’

  She felt her colour rise. ‘Won’t they want to know why?’

  Luke got up and drew her to her feet. ‘They will think I want you to myself for the last day before you leave. Which is the simple truth. Do you want that, Isobel?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Not,’ he said very deliberately, ‘that I mean to spend the whole day in bed, you understand. It will be enough just to be alone with you by the pool, and walk in the garden, and simply spend every minute possible together. Though I hope—need—to spend some of those minutes making love with you. But,’ he added nobly, ‘we can still go out in the boat if you prefer.’

  Isobel stood on tiptoe and put her arms round his neck. ‘I prefer your plan,’ she assured him.

  And a whole day spent this way, thought Luke as he rubbed his cheek against her hair, was all it would take to convince Isobel that she must stay, to ensure many more such days together.

  Isobel’s last full day on Chyros with Luke would have been perfect, bar one inescapable element—that she would be leaving the next morning. As he wanted, they spent almost every minute of the day together. As the sound of the Cherokee’s engine dwindled into the distance, taking Spiro and Eleni away, Luke smiled at Isobel with deep satisfaction.

  ‘Alone at last!’

  ‘So now we talk,’ she said firmly. ‘Tell me all about your life, Luke.’

  ‘Not all of it is exciting, Isobel,’ he warned, and began with the freighter which had been his starting point, out of which he’d built up a fleet so commercially successful it enabled him to take over the airline Melina Andreadis had considered her own personal property. Now it was his, he informed Isobel, it would soon have a very different reputation for luxury and dependability instead of the cheap, too frequent flights of her day. ‘I have an apartment in Athens, also one in Thessaloniki. You would like it there. Visitors rate it as a very hip, cool city. And from there you can explore the mountains, go to the oracle at Delphi and to Mount Olympus, the home of the gods.’

  ‘I’d love to do that one day,’ said Isobel wistfully, getting to her feet.

  ‘You want to go back to bed?’ he said, kissing her.

  ‘No way, kyrie,’ she retorted, laughing, and stripped off her sundress. ‘Let’s swim.’

  They swam and sunbathed, ate the salad lunch Eleni had left for them, then Luke got up, holding out his hand. ‘Now we go to bed.’

  A long time later, when they were holding each other close in the sweet, languorous aftermath of passion, tears trickled down Isobel’s cheeks.

  ‘Why are you crying?’ demanded Luke, kissing them away.

  ‘Because I’m happy,’ lied Isobel, and concealed a sharp pang of pain with a yawn.

  ‘Sleep, hriso mou,’ he said in a tone like a caress.

  It seemed a wanton waste of the time left to them, but Isobel was so tired she obeyed, and woke later to find him tickling her nose with a lock of her own hair.

  ‘I will leave you to your shower, then we take a walk in the garden while the sun goes down. And after that we drink a glass of wine while we watch the stars come out to play.’ He kissed her swiftly. ‘Ten minutes, ne?’

  Isobel was pleased in one way that Luke hadn’t wanted to share her shower. It was not the most graceful of procedures for someone balanced on one foot. Though it would have been something to look back on, she thought wistfully. Also a first for her. With Luke she wanted to experience everything possible between a man and woman in love… Her breath caught. Love, the four letter word. It was pointless to pretend she wasn’t madly in love with Luke. But did he feel the same? Their time together had been packed so full of incident there had been an inevitable greenhouse effect on their relationship. Luke left her in no doubt that he wanted her physically. But whether love was part of his equation was hard to tell. Not that it mattered. Tomorrow she was going home and would never see him again.

  Luke was waiting outside on the landing when Isobel emerged in a brief, filmy slip dress the colour of her eyes. He gave her a look which brought a blush to her face, and took her hand as t
hey went downstairs together.

  ‘Why didn’t you just come in to wait for me, Luke?’

  ‘Because I would have wanted to lay you down on that bed again,’ he informed her huskily. ‘And you would have objected because you look so perfect in that delightful dress.’

  Isobel smiled at him as they reached the veranda. ‘I’m glad you like it. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.’

  ‘Every night with you is a special occasion,’ he said, and took her hand to stroll out into the garden. ‘How is the foot, Isobel?’

  ‘It’s fine now, really. Which is good, because it has to get me home tomorrow.’

  ‘Let me fly you to the airport in the helicopter,’ he urged, but she shook her head.

  ‘No, thanks. I’ll go back on the boat, the way I came. The journey will get me back to normal by degrees.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Life at home is going to seem very humdrum from now on.’

  ‘Who will meet you at the airport?’

  ‘Joanna. I’ll send her a text just before I board the plane.’ Isobel breathed in the scent of the flowers as they skirted the pool to make for the row of Aleppo pines lining the cliff edge. She gazed down on the sunset-gilded beach. ‘It’s such a short time since you found me down there, yet in other ways it seems as though I’ve known you forever.’

  ‘I believe we met in another life,’ said Luke, and put his arm round her. ‘Come. We shall go back and toast the setting sun with a glass of wine.’

  Later, Isobel had little appetite for the mezedes Eleni had left them; though the appetizers were as delicious as all her food. ‘I’m not so hungry tonight,’ she said apologetically.

  ‘Nor I.’ He raised her hand to his and kissed it. ‘Isobel, I need to talk to you. And the best place for that is bed.’

 

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