by Rebecca York
“Why?”
“We may have been spotted. Stand up when I do, and stick close to me.”
He hadn’t wanted to frighten her, but her expression changed to alarm as she glanced in the direction he’d been looking and spotted the watcher.
“Let’s go.” Zeke pushed back his chair and walked rapidly to her side of the table. Grasping her arm, he ushered her out the back of the restaurant and down one of the side streets leading from the plaza. Glad he’d taken the time to familiarize himself with the layout of the town, he chose a route that led away from the bed-and-breakfast where they were staying.
The ancient pavement was uneven, and one of Elizabeth’s sandals hit a spot where two stones didn’t quite meet. She started to pitch forward, but Zeke held firmly to her arm, keeping her from losing her footing entirely. A little gasp escaped her lips, and Zeke wanted to stop and make sure she was all right, but he could hear the sound of footsteps following relentlessly up the narrow street. It wasn’t someone out for a casual stroll. It was someone in a hurry, more than likely the man he’d spotted watching them. So he kept them moving at a fast walk.
A couple of stray cats darted in front of their path. Moments later, they met another couple strolling in the opposite direction. Zeke steered Elizabeth to the right side of the cramped lane, barely slackening his pace as they rubbed shoulders with the man on one side and the wall of a house on the other. The man muttered a rude comment to Zeke about tourists parading through the streets like they owned the town. He ignored the gibe and plowed ahead.
He heard Elizabeth’s breath coming hard, knowing it was as much from fear as from exertion. “You’re doing great,” he whispered. “There’s a turn to the left about twenty feet ahead. After that, an archway leads to a narrow passageway on the right. We’ll duck in there.”
She didn’t spare the breath to answer, taking two steps for every one of his as they rounded the corner. For a sickening moment, he thought he’d lost his bearings and made a mistake about the archway. Then he saw the opening yawning darkly between two narrow houses.
Quickening his pace, he darted through the entrance, tugging Elizabeth with him.
“Hurry,” he hissed, literally pulling her along as he strode down the black tunnel. It opened onto a paved common area ringed by several houses. At the opposite end, was a similar covered passageway leading to another narrow street. If he’d been by himself, he might have dashed down the exit tunnel, come out on the other side and disappeared into the darkness. But he knew Elizabeth couldn’t run fast enough to pull off the escape.
With narrowed eyes, he made an inventory of the area, praying for some kind of hiding place. Next to one of the houses was a wooden storage shed with the door standing half open. Zeke sprinted toward it and pulled Elizabeth inside. In the split second before he swung the door shut, he saw a jumble of old furniture and stacks of milled lumber. He pushed down a wooden peg that held the door closed, then wrapped his arms around Elizabeth. She clung to him in the darkness, trying to control her breathing, but her heart was pounding hard and fast against his chest. He dipped his head, pressing his lips against her cheek. They stood like that in the darkness, holding tight to each other.
Seconds after they’d ducked into the hiding place, he heard footsteps pelting down the passageway. Someone stopped in the open area, obviously trying to figure out which way they’d gone—or if they were still here. He heard a low oath as the man circled the area, went a little way down the exit passage and then came back. He was almost on top of their hiding place.
Zeke’s arms tightened around Elizabeth, ready to shove her behind him if the door opened. He could feel her trembling, as she burrowed her face into his shoulder. Ears straining, he waited—sure that in the next second the flimsy door would fly open.
Instead, the footsteps retreated several paces, stopped, then moved down the far passage. In the darkness, Elizabeth raised her head. Zeke moved ever so slightly, pressing his finger to her lips. She nodded, silently holding her position as the seconds ticked by. Though it felt like an eternity, Zeke knew it was only a few minutes.
Elizabeth tipped her face toward his. “Can we open the door?” she whispered.
“Better wait.”
“Who was behind us? Did you recognize someone in the restaurant?”
“No. But I saw a man watching us from the other side of the plaza.”
She might have asked another question, but since Zeke’s mouth was only an inch from hers, he took the opportunity to lightly brush her lips with his. She made a small, urgent sound in her throat that drove him wild, shifting the tension in his chest to the lower part of his body.
One hand cupped the back of her head. The other hauled her closer, so he could feel her slender body pressed more firmly along the length of his. The sudden sexual awareness drove everything from his mind except the feel of her.
Her fingers kneaded his shoulders, moved to his upper arms and back again, her touch feminine and erotic.
He forgot how they came to be in this dark enclosed place, the two of them. All he knew was that her hips moved restlessly against his and her lips were soft, warm and open, silently begging him for more. He obliged, deepening the kiss, using his tongue and his teeth and his lips in all the ways he’d come to know she liked.
She had been shy in bed with him. Now she brought his hands to her breasts, muffling a cry of pleasure as his fingers slid back and forth across her nipples. It wasn’t enough. The clothing separating them was intolerable. His hands dipped into the V neck of her dress, stroking the tops of her breasts. She made a frustrated whimpering sound that turned the blood in his veins molten.
He was past the point where sanity ended and madness took over. Reaching for the hem of her dress, he pulled it up, bunching it around her waist and hastily stripping off her panties so that he could touch her the way he most wanted. She was hot and wet, and the stroking touch of his fingers seemed to make her body pulse and throb.
“Zeke, I need you,” she gasped.
He remembered seeing an old chair lying on its side. Praying it had four good legs, he reached down, found it and set it upright.
“Help me. Unbuckle my belt,” he growled.
She did, with quick shaky jerks of her fingers. And she didn’t stop until she held him hot and throbbing in her hand. Sitting in the chair, he guided her forward, so that her legs were on either side of his.
She bent her knees, bringing him inside her with a sure, swift motion that robbed them both of breath. Then she was moving frantically above and around him, her gasps of pleasure muffled against his shoulder.
Nothing so intense could last for long. The explosive climax came quickly for both of them. Then she wilted against him, her face damp, her breath ragged.
Reality slammed back into him, as he realized where they were and what kind of insane chance they’d just taken. His long, low curse made Elizabeth’s head jerk up.
He sat very still, listening. Apparently no one had discovered their trysting place. No thanks to himself. He’d made, wild passionate love to her only a few hours earlier. That should have satisfied him. Instead it had only fueled his need to do it all over again, as if loving her could change reality.
“What the hell am I thinking?” he asked himself.
She made a low, amused sound. “I guess you were thinking the same thing I was.”
“We’d better go. This is hardly the place or the time for fooling around.”
The words sent a shudder through her. “The man…chasing us. Who was he?”
“I’m not sure. Aristotle must be looking for us.” He wasn’t going to worry her further, by mentioning Cyril Agnapopolis. Still, he felt her body stiffen.
“I think it’s safe to say we lost the guy,” he added.
She stood, allowing him to get up. Glad she couldn’t see his flushed face in the darkness, he adjusted his clothing.
Elizabeth reached down, feeling for something on the floor.
&nbs
p; “What?”
“My panties,” she said in a strangled voice. “I can’t just leave them here.”
He made a noncommittal sound as he moved the peg and opened the door, allowing a shaft of light to illuminate the scrap of feminine attire. Snatching up the evidence, she stuffed it into the purse that had also ended up on the ground.
When she started to step out of the shed, he held her back, searching the shadows. He might be going soft in the head, but he could still check out the area. They seemed to be alone. However, he Ied her farther away from the harbor before doubling back to their lodging. Then he unlocked the door and surveyed the area from the top of the steps before ushering her inside.
Bolting the door behind them gave him some sense of security. But he knew they weren’t totally safe. If somebody was looking for them, a chance remark by their landlady about the young couple who had rented one of her rooms could lead to discovery. Still, staying inside was probably the best insurance for tonight.
A LOUD CLATTERING SOUND sent Elizabeth bolt upright in bed. As she looked wildly around in the gray light of early dawn, she saw Zeke standing by the door of their room, the expression on his face registering surprise. She was a bit surprised, too, since she hadn’t been prepared for quite so much noise.
He dropped his duffel bag and stooped to pick up a drinking glass, fork and spoon that had clattered to the tile floor. “What the hell is this?”
She sat up in bed and stretched luxuriously, pretending she wasn’t fighting tension in every muscle. “Oh that? You just set off my alarm system.”
“For what?”
“I think it’s obvious. You were planning to skip out on me, weren’t you?”
He strode across the few feet separating them and stood with his hands on his hips. “That’s right. You can’t go any farther with me.”
“The hell I can’t.” She summoned her roughest language and matched his belligerent tone, although her stomach was tying itself in knots. “Were you going to let me wake up in a panic, when I realized you weren’t here?” she asked in a low voice.
His gaze flicked to the table by the window. “I left you a note. And some money. It’s only by sheer luck that you’re still alive after the past few days you’ve spent with me.”
“Not luck. Your excellent secret-agent skills,” she said with sincerity.
“I missed your little trap,” he ground out, gesturing toward the tableware on the floor.
“You weren’t looking for any threats inside the room. You were focused on getting away.”
“Right. I have to collect a shipment of olives and deliver them to Delvia.”
As if the matter of who was going along had been settled, she climbed out of bed. Circling around him, she silently picked up the items in front of the door before turning back to him. “Give me a couple of minutes to get ready.”
“You’re not going.”
“Nothing’s changed,” she said. “You said you needed me. You still do.”
“It’s getting more dangerous every minute. I thought bringing home my illegitimate daughter was a private matter. It looks like half the people on the island know I’m here. We can’t even go out to dinner without being spotted.”
“You warned me Aristotle’s agents might be looking for us.”
“It will confuse them if we split up,” he tried. “You can charter a plane back to Athens and wait for us.”
She knew darn well that the suggestion was only a ploy. “You said it was difficult to get a plane.”
“It’s easier from this end.”
She raised her chin. “Zeke, we’re wasting time. I’m not going to leave you in the middle of a crisis. You need me, and so does Ariadne. You’re a stranger. She may be terrified to leave with you. But I’ll know what to say to her. If she has me, she’ll feel more secure.”
Using his daughter’s name got his attention, as she’d known it would. She saw him consider her logic, saw him waver.
“You know I’m right,” she said in a firm voice.
“Maybe. But I still don’t like it.”
To hide the victorious look on her face, she turned away and reached for the envelope on the table. He grabbed it out of her hand before she could open it.
“I’d like to read it,” she said.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” His expression was guarded.
What had he said in the note that he didn’t want her to see, she wondered. Had he broken down and told her he loved her? Or had he said things he knew would devastate her? From the way he’d made love to her, she’d thought he’d admitted his feelings. Now she wanted to hear him say the words every woman wants to hear from the man she loves. Yet what if she were totally misreading him? What if she pushed him into a corner, and he said that there was still no future for the two of them? She didn’t think she could cope with that. More important, she wasn’t sure she could keep functioning in this dangerous arena, if she knew for sure that they were splitting up as soon as they got home.
“You’d better get dressed if you want to come along,” he said gruffly.
“Right.” She glanced toward the bathroom. “Give me your word you won’t slip out when I close the door.” At least she had to hear that much from him.
He sighed deeply. “I give you my word. I’ll be here.”
IRENA PRESSED A HAND over the little girl’s mouth, lest she cry out and give them away.
“Wake up, little lamb.”
Ariadne’s eyes drifted open, and she stared at her aunt.
“We have to leave.”
The little girl blinked. “So early?”
“We’re going on a long trip.”
When Irena pulled back the covers, the child shivered in the cool morning air. “Let’s get dressed,” Irena said, pulling the nightgown over the little girl’s head and reaching for the sweater and slacks she’d selected.
“I’m hungry,” Ariadne announced when she was dressed.
“I know. And I’ve packed some food for us. Some oranges and some cookies. We’ll eat on the bus.”
“I don’t want to leave here. I don’t like to ride on the bus,” the child objected.
“We’re going to a nice place.”
“You said we could stay here.”
“Stop arguing with me,” Irena demanded, her own fear making her voice impatient. “We have to leave, and that’s the end of it.”
Ariadne’s eyes filled with tears, and Irena drew her quickly into her embrace, hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry if I sound gruff,” she said in a low voice. “I’m worried about getting to the bus on time. If we don’t catch the early one, we won’t get out of town for hours.”
Ariadne nodded.
“We’re going to go very quietly, so we don’t wake anyone up.”
Clutching the suitcase in one hand and Ariadne’s little palm in the other, Irena led the way down the hall. They were almost to the courtyard when a door opened and a tall figure stepped out. It was too dark to see the gray hair and grizzled face. But she knew who it was.
Cyril Agnapopolis. She’d thought he was a perfect solution to her problem, and when he’d come into her room that first time and made love to her, it had been good, better than it had ever been with her deceased husband. She gave herself shamelessly to him after that, and she began to think she and Cyril might remain together. Then she saw the fax he’d left on his desk and realized he was only using her to trap Zeke Chambers. Her little world crumbled, yet she was forced to pretend everything was all right. She thought she’d fooled him. Now she was suddenly unsure.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice calm but sharp edged like a dagger.
“I—” She used up all the breath in her lungs before she could answer.
He lifted the shabby suitcase from her hand and set it on the floor. “You were so happy when I offered you a place to stay. Are you tired of my hospitality?” he asked.
Unable to speak, Irena shook her head
He smiled at
her, a smile as cold as his eyes. “We’ve had some good times together, you and I.”
She cringed, as she heard the words. She’d thought their lovemaking had meant more to both of them.
He moved to Ariadne’s side and tousled her dark hair. “You’ve had a good time staying with me, haven’t you, little one?”
The child stood stiffly.
“Go back to your room,” Cyril said to the little girl.
Ariadne glanced at her aunt.
“It’s all right.”
“But you said we were leaving.”
“Go!” Irena croaked, and the child scurried away, her head bowed and her shoulders stiff.
She was left facing Cyril. Rigidly she stood in front of him.
“Why were you sneaking away?” he growled.
She shrugged. “I thought it would be safer for the child somewhere else.”
He laughed, an ugly sound. “You’re right, of course.”
She turned her face beseechingly toward his. “Please, Cyril, I thought you felt something for me.”
“I do,” he said in a rough voice. “More than I expected I could feel.”
She gathered her courage. “You and I could be happy together.”
“I’ve given up on happiness.”
“No—”
His eyes bore into hers. “When did you figure out I was using you?”
Why lie, she thought. “I saw a fax…”
“You should have stayed out of my office,” he growled. “I thought you knew a woman’s place.”
“Please let us go. We haven’t done anything to hurt you.”
“I’m sorry, my dear.” He sighed. “I can’t do that. Chambers is already in Mythos. He should be here soon—to rescue his little girl, the child he never claimed before. He’ll come here as soon as he figures out where I’m holding Ariadne.”
Irena sucked in a strangled breath and forced herself to ask the question that had been nagging at her. “What did he do to you that you’ve taken so much time and effort to bring him to you?”
“Nothing. It was his father who made sure I went to jail for the crimes he committed. But the father’s dead. So I must take my revenge on the son.”