Sweetly Contemporary Collection - Part 2 (Sweetly Contemporary Boxed Sets)

by Jennifer Blake

  She had never meant for the cruise to turn out this way. She had expected to relax, to enjoy the sun and sea air, to make a few notes for Aunt Maggie on the various ports, and then, after a week, to return to the apartment rested, and basically the same as when she had left. What day was this? Only Tuesday? It seemed impossible.

  Maura climbed to the lido deck, a frown between her brows. Her thoughts were so abstracted that she had nearly reached the pool before she noticed the man in the water. He swam with sure, easy strokes, cleaving the water in a lazy circle around a child in a swim ring. The child, a little girl of less than two, with golden ringlets and enormous dark eyes, chortled in glee as she kicked and splashed, trying to catch Nikolaos Vassos. Her small hands clutched at the sun-warmed muscles of his shoulders, closing on the dark, sculptured waves of his hair that, sleek with water, were molded to his head. He laughed with a flash of white teeth as he shook free, and to the shrieking joy of the child, took the line attached to her swim ring to tow her around the pool.

  Nearby sat the assistant cruise director, the blonde woman with the Slavic accent. She looked trim this morning in the white blouse and blue skirt and sandals that constituted her uniform while at sea. Instead of keeping her eyes on the young daughter of Captain Spiridion, however, she was watching the man who played with her.

  Maura changed her direction abruptly. Nikolaos’s gentleness and obvious pleasure with the child struck at some vulnerable region of her heart. She had nothing to say to him this morning. She did not want to intrude, nor did she care, just now, to appear to be seeking him out.

  “Maura!”

  She turned with reluctance at the call. Her tones stiff, she said, “Good morning.”

  “Come and join us,” Nikolaos suggested. With one long arm, he scooped the laughing child out of the water, leaving the swim ring behind. Placing her firmly on the wood and outdoor carpeting of the poolside curbing, he heaved himself up beside her with lithe strength. The look he turned in Maura’s direction was so expectant it held an element of command. Almost against her will, she moved toward him.

  “This is Katrina,” he said when Maura had seated herself on the curbing with the little girl between them. “Katrina, will you say hello to Maura?”

  The child climbed to her feet, and with the grinning exuberance of one who was certain of her welcome, flung her arms around Maura’s neck. Nikolaos spoke a few quick words in Greek, and Katrina, with a glance in his direction, pressed a decidedly moist kiss to Maura’s cheek before tumbling into her lap.

  Maura caught the child and returned her kiss. Settling her more comfortably in the circle of her arms, she said, “Good grief, is she bilingual already?”

  “She is beginning to be. Her mother is an American.”

  “I see,” Maura said, unable to resist touching the little girl’s hair that the sun and sea breezes were already beginning to dry into fine gold curls.

  “It comes easy at her age,” Nikolaos said.

  “I saw in the list of the day’s activities that they are having lessons in Greek this morning. Maybe I should take her with me as an interpreter.”

  “There’s no need for lessons. I’ll teach you, if you would like to learn.”

  Her attention determinedly on Katrina, Maura said, “I don’t suppose it’s any use. There isn’t time for much progress before we dock in New Orleans.”

  “I don’t know about that. It depends on how much time is spent on it.” There was stillness mirrored in the darkness of his eyes.

  “I — I couldn’t monopolize the days you have left.”

  “Is that it,” he asked, a hard note entering his voice, “or is it simply that you would rather not be alone with me?”

  “No, of course not,” she answered, flicking him a glance from under her lashes. “It’s just that I see nothing to be gained from lessons.”

  “Must something always be gained?”

  “Not as long as — as nothing is lost,” she answered, her voice low.

  The little girl in Maura’s arms looked from one to the other as the strain between them communicated itself to her. Her face clouded in a frown, and she began to whimper. Nikolaos held out his hands, and she went to him willingly, but she could not be consoled. The assistant cruise director rose from her deck chair not too far away and came forward.

  “Shall I take Katrina to her mother?” she asked, going down on one knee.

  “Yes, I expect you had better,” Nikolaos said, and unclasped the small arms from around his neck. A note of unaccustomed softness in his voice, he said against the child’s hair, “Good-bye for now, little one.”

  With a cool look for Maura, the blonde woman rose and carried the child away. Before she was out of sight, Nikolaos turned to Maura.

  “What is this you are saying? What is it you think to lose?”

  “I think you know,” Maura said, leaning forward a little so that her hair shielded her face, bracing her hands on each side of herself on the pool curbing as she slowly kicked her feet in the water below. “I prefer for you to explain.”

  Maura looked up, flinging her hair back over her shoulder, stung by the imperious note in his voice. “All right. Regardless of what you may have gathered from what I said to your grandmother, I am not interested in a brief shipboard encounter. I have never indulged in easy affairs, or quick, intimate relationships. And I see no reason to start just because we are at sea and I may never see you again.”

  “That is,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “a most virtuous stand for a woman in today’s world.”

  “It’s the way I feel. I told you once before that I was old-fashioned.”

  “It’s an attitude much admired in my country.” “I wouldn’t know about that. I only know that I am not desperate for you to enliven my trip. And though I can see that you must be bored with the inactivity since you did not particularly want to come on this ship, I’m afraid you are going to have to look somewhere else for entertainment.”

  He stared at her a moment. “And if I said it was not boredom that caused me to be interested in you?”

  “I would have to look for another reason, wouldn’t I?”

  “Such as?”

  “You disapproved of me so thoroughly such a short time ago as a companion for your grandmother,” she told him in a fierce undertone, “that I am forced to wonder now if you wouldn’t like to direct my attention to yourself to save her from my encroaching ways?”

  The charge, until now no more than a vague idea in the back of her mind, came tumbling out before she had given it due thought. She would not have taken it back, however, even if she could.

  His features tightened. “So that is what you think. You underestimate yourself badly, my darling Maura.”

  The endearment, spoken in such a cold tone, sent a shaft of pain through her. “That may be,” she said with a defiant lift of her chin, “but I doubt I am in danger of doing the same with you.”

  They were interrupted then by the arrival of a party of laughing teenagers at the pool. Maura made that her excuse to slide into the water. She swam slowly up and down, trying to cool her flushed face and calm her troubled mind. By the time she had had enough of being splashed and bumped by the rowdy group of young people in the small space of water, Nikolaos had gone.

  The words they had exchanged remained with her, along with a malaise of the spirit brought on by the quarrel. Even after the ship had docked at George Town on Grand Cayman, and she had walked alone into the town, she still could not shake the feeling that she might have made a mistake.

  Was it an error in judgment? Had she accused Nikolaos Vassos wrongly? Was it possible that he had sought her out in these last few days for the sake of her company only? Or was the error in showing her hand, letting him know what she thought of him and his midnight kisses?

  What was the point in worrying about it? In four more days, the cruise would be over. She would never see the arrogant Greek and his grandmother again. With a small effort, and a little lu
ck, she should be able to avoid them both for the duration. She would certainly try.

  Grand Cayman, like Cozumel, was a flat island, so much so that it was impossible not to wonder what happened to the low land mass when a hurricane swept in from the surrounding Caribbean. A Crown Colony of Britain, it was one of a string of islands known as the British West Indies. The language spoken, therefore, was a proper British English, and it was an extremely proper English-style bobby who held up traffic so that the passengers from the cruise ship could cross the harbor road to enter the shopping district.

  George Town, the principal city of the island, was a duty-free port. One of the main attractions was the perfumes, the crystal and china, the gold, silver, and diamond jewelry, the Spanish leathers, German cameras, Japanese watches, Irish linens, Scottish woolens, and French designers fashions, as well as liquor from all over the world, that could be purchased. Priced as much as forty percent less than goods of similar quality in the United States where import duties were imposed by the Federal Government, and for the most part at considerably less than in the duty-free shops on the ship, there were many bargains to be found. Grand Cayman was also known for its tortoiseshell jewelry, one of the few places in the world where authentic tortoiseshell could be found. The green turtles from which the tortoiseshell came were an endangered species, and only on Grand Cayman, where they were grown on a special turtle farm, was it legal to harvest the reptiles for their shells.

  Maura wandered up and down the wide, clean streets of the town, admiring the hedges of hibiscus with their great pink and red flowers the size of soup plates and the rampart brilliance of bougainvillea that sprawled everywhere. There was much white used in wood and in marble, in stone and concrete, and also the bleached seashells that had been utilized as paving material. Such usage might have the advantage of reflecting the tropical heat, but it also created a blinding glare as the hot sun poured down upon the town.

  Maura, in a scooped-neck cotton blouse and a crisp sailcloth skirt of pale yellow, and with her hair caught back by a yellow band, was not too conscious of it. Several of the older couples from the Athena were wilting in the heat and glare, however. Even Maura was glad of the protection of her sunglasses, and the air-conditioned dimness of the shops.

  Maura bought a tortoiseshell clasp set with gold for her hair, and a small statuette of a fledgling owl done in frosted Lalique crystal. With these in her arms, she remembered a request made by her great-aunt for a few issues of stamps from the island. Renowned for their brilliant colors and flamboyant, tropical subjects, and for being printed for one of the smallest postal systems in existence, they had a scarcity value and were well known to philatelists all over the world.

  The post office, a fairly old building of the Victorian era with much brass, polished wood, and whirling ceiling fans, was doing a brisk business. Maura had to stand in line to see the elderly woman in charge of dispensing stamps. Emerging once more into the afternoon heat, she tucked her purchases into her handbag and stood looking up and down the street.

  It was still two hours before the Athena was due to sail. There was a beach party sponsored by the ship at one of the large hotels that ringed the shoreline. Somehow, Maura did not feel like another party; more rum-flavored drinks, loud music, and chatter. The ship would be fairly deserted with everyone on shore.

  She set out with an easy, swinging stride. There was no hurry. She might stop at another shop or two, if she saw something interesting. Or even walk a little way along the harbor toward the beach.

  Ahead of her was a jewelry shop with a line of people standing in front, waiting to get inside. Maura stepped from the curb into the street to go around the crowd, waiting with amused patience for a car to pass in the English manner, on what to her eyes appeared to be the wrong side of the road. Back on the sidewalk once more, she would have gone on if she had not heard a voice calling her name.

  Turning, Maura saw Mrs. Papoulas leaning against the wall of the shop. Her face was pale and damp, and there were beads of perspiration along her upper lip. The gay paper bags that contained her purchases lay at her feet, and she was trying feebly to fan herself with a hat of white straw.

  Maura went quickly toward her. “What is it? What is the matter?”

  “I — I don’t feel well. This heat—”

  “Shall I get a doctor? I’m sure there must be one not too far away in a town of this size.”

  “No, no, not that. If I could just sit down, have something cool to drink?”

  There was a restaurant a short distance away. Maura glanced from it to the woman beside her with doubt in her green eyes. “We might find something over there,” she said with a nod in the proper direction, “if you think you can make it that far.”

  Mrs. Papoulas opened her eyes. “I’m sure I can.” “Are you certain I shouldn’t get a doctor?” Maura picked up the paper bags, at her feet, adding them to her own.

  “There’s no need, none at all. If you will just give me your arm?”

  Leaning heavily on Maura, the other woman managed the few steps to the restaurant door. Just inside, a receptionist came toward them with menus in her hand. Seeing the problem, she took Mrs. Papoulas’s other arm to help her into a chair. When water had been brought, the older woman took a bottle containing capsules from her handbag. Shaking out one, she swallowed it quickly and leaned back.

  Maura could do nothing but place an order for cool drinks for both of them and wait. After a few anxious moments, the gray began to fade from under the woman’s skin and she sat up straighter.

  “I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,” she said on a sigh as she reached to pat Maura’s hand.

  “I’m glad I could help, though I still think you should let me get a doctor for you.”

  “The man on the ship is excellent, I’m told. I may call him when I return. But these little spells pass quickly; they are not too unusual for me when I do more than I should.”

  “I wish I had known you wanted to come into town,” Maura said. “You could have come with me.”

  Mrs. Papoulas shook her head. “It was a sudden impulse. Nikolaos would have brought me, but I refused. Then after he had gone, a woman I met told me of some pieces of exquisite embroidered linen that she had found here before. I have a great weakness for such things. Naturally, once I began to shop I found more and more to see and to buy.”

  Maura gave a nod of sympathy. “Is Nikolaos in town then? If you know where he could be reached, I might find him for you. He could take you back to the ship.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Anyway, he went to the beach, Seven Mile Beach I think it’s called.”

  “To the party given by the ship?”

  “I’m not certain, though I would doubt it. He prefers to swim alone.”

  Maura abandoned the idea. If Nikolaos was not at the hotel where the party was being held, then he could not be reached. She would have to make other arrangements to get his grandmother to the ship. Though the older woman was stronger now, nearly back to normal, as she sipped at a glass of iced pineapple juice, it seemed best for her not to attempt the walk back to the dock.

  “What about you?” the older woman queried. “Why are you alone?”

  “I didn’t care for the idea of the beach party either.”

  “You could have gone with Nikolaos, or else he could have come with you to carry your packages, and to buy a trinket or two.”

  “He would not have liked the shopping.”

  “That isn’t so. He would have been perfectly willing; he often goes with me to give me the benefit of his opinion. Furthermore, I know he dialed your cabin earlier, but you were already gone.”

  “I expect he was only being polite. It’s more than likely he was relieved that I wasn’t in.”

  “That isn’t true. I can assure you he would not have called if he had not wanted your company.”

  There was no point in debating the subject. Maura only shook her head.

  The older woman sig
hed. “I’m sorry that you and Nikolas cannot get along with each other. I had hoped — but never mind.”

  “Sometimes people dislike each other on sight.”

  “That’s possible, though it seldom happens between an attractive man and woman. Or perhaps you don’t find Nikolaos attractive? Perhaps he is too foreign to you?”

  “Of course he is attractive.” Maura swirled her straw in her juice, making the ice tinkle against the glass.

  “I confess I think he is exceptionally handsome, though I am somewhat prejudiced. Still, I worry. He has had many women friends, pillow friends, but none who have captured his heart, none who remain in his thoughts when they are not with him, and none he has ever cared to introduce to me.”

  “Pillow friends?” Maura asked, glancing up as her interest was caught by the unusual phrase.

  “It is a Greek term for what I suppose you would call his mistresses, though the women he chooses usually have careers in the theater or the arts. They are considerably better off financially when they leave him, but not — not devastated. They understand such arrangements, and know from the beginning that marriage is not a part of his plans.”

  “You would like him to marry,” Maura said, a faint rose flush on her cheekbones.

  “Ah, yes. I would like to see him happy and settled, see my great-grandchildren. But I fear it will never be.”

  “Never?”

  “He resists it. There have been too many young women of few principles who have tried to entice him into marriage while they visited at our island home. Then also, the marriage of his parents was not a good one.”

  “I understand his father was killed in an accident just before he was born.”

  “Yes, that was my son Paul. The Englishwoman he married was cold and silly. Instead of finding happiness in her husband, she moped and cried for her family in England. She hated being with child, hated Paul for giving it to her. As soon as she could, when my son was dead, she deserted Nikolaos and went to her country and her own people.”