by Sara Craven
Gemma sighed. ‘He’s my half-brother. My mother was married before, but her first husband was killed in an accident at work.’ It killed her to have to explain a syllable to this swine, but she would recount her entire family history if it would only get her out of here. ‘A year or so later, she met my father and married him, but Mike kept his own father’s surname. Now, do you see and now will you let me go?’
He said silkily, ‘After what you have just told me, thespinis? It makes my reasons for keeping you here doubly potent, believe me.’
She felt incredibly weary suddenly. She said, ‘I might, kyrie, if I knew what those reasons were. As it is, I’m tired and fed up with the whole affair. I don’t know what Mike’s supposed to have done, but whatever it is, I’m not responsible for it.’
‘I will tell you what he has done,’ he said gently. ‘He has seduced a girl from this village, abused the trust that was placed in him, and the hospitality he was shown.’
Gemma’s lips parted in disbelief. She said angrily, ‘There isn’t a word of truth in it. Mike wouldn’t do such a thing. He’s not that sort of person.’
‘He is not completely a man—is that what you’re saying?’
‘No,’ she denied furiously. ‘But he’s no womaniser and never has been. He has a girl in England, but it isn’t a serious relationship. I—I’m sure they don’t sleep together,’ she added, annoyed at having to discuss such a subject with a stranger.
‘Then he should have treated Maria with equal honour.’ His voice was chilling. ‘Your defence of your brother is natural, thespinis, but it does not impress me. Maria is to have his child.’
Gemma heard him with dismay. In the books she’d been reading before she came away, she’d learned that on many of the islands the old ways still prevailed, and that a woman’s honour was sacrosanct, especially before she was married. She could imagine the kind of slur illegitimacy would confer in this kind of tightly knit community.
She bit her lip. ‘Has she said so—accused him?’
‘Not at first,’ he said grimly. ‘But ultimately she confessed everything. How they had met in Chania when she was there working in her uncle’s hotel, how she suggested he should use the villa as a base for his work, and brought him here. No one thought wrong of it. The villa was unoccupied, after all, and he made himself popular in the village. Maria’s mother came each day to cook and clean for him, until she fell and hurt her leg and the doctor said she must rest.’ He paused. ‘So Maria took over her duties. Her family did not wish it. A marriage had been arranged for her with the son of the headman of the next village, and Maria should have been occupied in learning from her mother how to be a good wife. Already her groom’s family had been displeased because she had worked for a while in Chania, and had demanded more dowry.’ His eyes were like obsidian, dark and menacing. ‘They were right to question. Maria had taken your brother as her lover in Chania, and he had persuaded her to bring him here so they could continue the affair in secret.’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows—perhaps she thought this Michalis would marry her. She knows better now. He has gone, and her bridegroom and his family have repudiated her. She is ruined, and the honour of her family and her village is tainted.’
‘But you don’t believe that, surely?’ Gemma appealed. ‘You’re a man of the world—you know how things are.’
He said quietly, ‘Perhaps, but the people of this village do not. My father was born in this house. He and Stavros were friends, and he was godfather to all his children—Maria too. My father is dead now, and I am head of my family, so in his trouble, Stavros and his kin look to me.’
‘But I don’t understand what you can do,’ Gemma protested. ‘I’m sure it’s a terrible thing for them all, but you haven’t heard Michael’s side yet.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Because as soon as Maria told him there was to be a child, he ran away. He knew, your brother, what Stavros and his sons would do to him if they caught him. But they still seek vengeance.’ He paused again. ‘And that is why, sister of Michalis, you are here.’
‘But I can’t do anything.’ She spread her hands in appeal. ‘If the baby is Michael’s, then I’m sure my family will help in some way—with money, of course, or helping Maria make a fresh start where things aren’t quite so—rigid.’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Whatever her fault, Maria is our own, and will be protected by us. Yes, you will pay, my girl, for what your brother has done, but not in cash. You will pay in kind— in shame, and your family’s shame. You will stay here and work in this house as my servant, as Maria worked for your brother, and I shall take you as and when I please, as he took her.’
His voice deepened, driving the bitter words like sharp nails into her bewildered mind. ‘This is my revenge, thespinis, for your brother—for your family—to know what it is like to have a beloved child despoiled, taken for pleasure by a man who has no intention of marriage. Perhaps in turn they will also suffer the knowledge that she too carries a child of an alien race in her body.’
CHAPTER THREE
SHE stood very still. There was silence in the room, and he seemed suddenly to have receded to a great distance. She wondered detachedly whether she might be going to faint. She hoped she might die. She hoped anything might happen to her except the kind of horror he was threatening.
Stay calm, she adjured herself frantically. Keep talking—reason with him—don’t let him see you’re on your knees, because there has to be a way out of this.
She said in a voice she barely recognised as her own, ‘I think I’ve heard enough. I don’t know whether this whole thing is meant to be some kind of ghastly joke, kyrie, but if so it’s in the poorest taste.’ She paused. ‘And if you wanted to scare me and upset me, then you’ve succeeded. But that’s as far as it goes. If Mike has really caused all this havoc, then he must sort it out for himself. I sympathise, but I’m not getting involved, and I’m certainly not staying in this house on any terms whatsoever.’
‘Bravely spoken,’ he approved sardonically. ‘But the choice is not yours. I thought I had made that clear.’
‘But you can’t keep me here against my will.’ By a superhuman effort she kept her tone level. ‘I should run away.’
He looked at her mockingly. ‘In this climate, thespinis? And naked and barefoot. I don’t think so.’
She began, ‘But I’m not naked...’ then stopped, as she read the message in his dark gaze. She stepped backwards, clutching defensively at the towel. ‘You wouldn’t.’
‘I advise you not to put it to the test,’ he said. ‘Besides, where would you run to—the village? They would send you back.’
‘But they can’t be the only people around. There’s a bus and ..her voice tailed off as she saw his mouth twist derisively.
‘The bus called yesterday, thespinis. It will not be here again for a week.’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows—perhaps by that time I will have had enough of you anyway.’
‘And I’ve had enough of you now,’ Gemma flared at him. ‘You must be out of your mind to threaten me like this. You can’t really imagine I’m going to hang around here so that you can—rape me.’
‘I have no intention of raping you, thespinis,’’ he said gently. ‘I shall use no more force towards you than your brother did to Maria,’ he added huskily.
She swallowed. For one terrible moment, she’d had an image of those firm lips crushing hers, parting them—the lean, brown hands caressing and intimate.
She said on a whisper, ‘Touch me and I’ll kill you.’
He laughed. ‘You have spirit. I approve of that. Our time together should prove more pleasurable than I anticipated.’
‘There’ll be no time together.’ Gemma closed her eyes wearily. ‘If you do any of the things you’ve threatened, then I shall go to the authorities. You can’t hope to get away with it. We’re not living in the Dark Ages.’
‘And what will you tell these authorities? That you went to Knossos and picked up a rich Greek for a little adventure
, and found you were out of your depth? Because that is what I will tell them. And the waiter in the taverna will confirm my story. He saw us watching each other, and he believes your hurried departure was only to lure me on. He told me I was a fortunate man, and wished me well,’ he added.
‘How nice for you,’ she flashed. ‘Perhaps if he’d known what you really intended, he’d have told you that you were off your head.’
‘Perhaps,’ he smiled a little grimly. ‘But we shall never know.’
‘Why were you at Knossos anyway?’ Curiosity got the better of her.
‘I needed to see you before I put my plan into operation. When I rang the hotel and was told you were catching a bus to Knossos, I decided to follow. The hotel said—two English girls travelling together. You were not hard to pick out.’ He paused. ‘And then, your companion called you Gemma, and I was sure.’
Shakily, she remembered the photograph, and the waves of burning anger reaching her.
‘Wasn’t the trip a little unnecessary,’ she asked coldly. ‘As you’d apparently already made up your mind what you were going to do.’
‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘But you might have been ugly or undesirable.’
She swallowed, ‘And if I had been, you’d have— changed your plan?’ Her voice shook. ‘My God, I wish I had a harelip, a hunchback and a squint.’
‘Such a combination might have given me pause,’ he admitted mockingly. ‘As it is——’ His eyes went over her again, stripping, assessing, while the angry colour flared in her face. ‘As it is, I have little to complain about. You are a little skinny for my taste, but in a situation like ours, one cannot have everything.’
She was mute with rage and humiliation, her hands curling instinctively into claws at her side, a movement which was not lost on him.
He smiled faintly. ‘Scratch me in passion, little cat, but not in anger, or you will be sorry.’ He pulled back the cuff of his full-sleeved white shirt and examined his watch. ‘It is time you began your duties.’ He saw her flinch slightly and laughed out loud. ‘No, not that. My needs at this moment are a little more prosaic. You may cook me a meal.’
She said steadily, ‘I’ll see you in hell first.’
He lifted one shoulder negligently. ‘As you wish. But you should consider—if you do not cook, then you also do not eat.’ He glanced around him. ‘It is a pleasant room, ne, but I think you would soon grow tired of its four walls.’
And he meant it, she recognised bitterly. She glared at him. ‘How do you know I can cook?’
‘I don’t require gourmet food. There is a leg of lamb to roast, and a salad to make. You should be capable of that at least.’
She was capable of that, and more. She’d been well taught at home, but that was no reason why this—this bastard should benefit from her skill.
She lifted an indifferent shoulder. ‘I’ll try, but I hope you won’t blame me if it’s ruined.’
‘I hope I shall not have to,’ he said quite gently, but there was a warning implicit in his words. He turned and walked away, and she heard him go down the stairs, leaving her alone.
Gemma drew a deep breath and sank down on the edge of the bed. She was trembling violently inside, and her heart was pounding as if it threatened to break through her breastbone.
She bent her head, staring at the tiled floor, and began to breathe deeply and rhythmically, deliberately calming herself. At the moment, she was vulnerable, totally on the run, but that could change, and she could change it.
She began to think. The first sign she’d had that she was not alone had been the slamming of some vehicle’s door. Had he really brought that fantastic car all the way up those appalling mountain roads, she wondered incredulously. But if he had, then it was parked near at hand, and that meant that the keys weren’t far away either. He was probably carrying them on him, she decided judiciously, and once he was asleep, she could go through his pockets and find them. She tried not to contemplate what it would be like driving an unfamiliar vehicle in bare feet down that snake of a road. She also tried not to think about the events which might precede his falling asleep, because if she did so, then her courage might evaporate entirely.
She sank her teeth into her soft lower lip until she tasted blood. Oh God! Why hadn’t she obeyed her first instinct and gone with James and Hilary? She would have been safe then—or would he still have pursued her?
She got up and went into the bathroom. She washed her face and hands in cool water, then rewrapped her towel sarong, fastening it firmly with some safety pins from her toilet bag.
If this was all the covering she was to be allowed, then she would make damned sure it was secure, she told herself, flicking her hair back from her face.
The Cretan was lounging on the narrow sofa when she went downstairs, looking through a newspaper, a glass of ouzo at his elbow. He didn’t even glance up at her as she walked through the living room, and out into the kitchen.
Presumably, Gemma thought bitterly, he was used to a woman’s presence about the place, both in the kitchen and the bedroom.
She managed to light the oven, then found the joint of lamb from the fridge and put it in a roasting pan. After a brief struggle with herself, she added seasoning, and then inserted some slivers of garlic, alternating with sprigs of rosemary she had found growing in a pot on the windowsill, into slits she had cut in the skin. She dribbled olive oil from a jar over the meat and set it to roast.
It was while she was slicing tomatoes for the salad, that she first noticed the knife she was using. An ordinary kitchen knife, but the blade was pointed and sharp, and it was a line of defence she hadn’t considered. If only she’d been wearing normal clothing, she could have hidden it somewhere, but a towel had very few hiding places, she thought ruefully. She needed something with long sleeves so that she could slide the handle under the strap of her watch and let the blade rest against her arm.
And she knew with sudden excitement, exactly what she could use. She gave a slow, triumphant smile. Her captor might think he held all the winning cards, but the last trick could be hers, after all.
She’d hoped she could slip upstairs again unnoticed, but when she came back into the living room, he was clearly waiting for her.
He gestured imperatively, indicating the seat beside him. ‘Come here, Gemma.’ He saw her hesitation, and the dark brows lifted arrogantly. ‘Do you intend to make me fetch you?’
No, she didn’t, and that was for sure. Fighting down the signs of inner rebellion, she walked over to the sofa and sat down beside him. If ever she’d needed that knife, it was now, and the damned thing was in the kitchen.
‘Would you like me to fill the time until supper with some housework, kyrie?’ she asked coolly. ‘Or have you other plans for me?’
He said softly, ‘Little wasp. Has no man ever taught you to sweeten your tongue? My plan is that we should talk a little, get to know each other—even ...’ he paused, as if uncertain how to continue.
‘You mean you intend to woo me a little?’ She put a world of exaggerated surprise into her voice and expression as she faced him. ‘But surely that’s unnecessary—for what you are planning?’
He looked at her with a glint of anger in his eyes. ‘Quite unnecessary. I’d thought only that it might ease the situation for you, perhaps.’
‘Nothing,’ Gemma said bitingly, ‘could ever do that.’
She wished the sofa was bigger. He was resting his arm along the back of it, and his hand was too near her bare shoulder.
‘Then that is a pity,’ he said. ‘I thought, you see, that we might indulge ourselves, you and I, with a little pretence. I thought we might pretend that yesterday at Knossos, I had joined you at your table for lunch, and afterwards driven you and your companion back to Heraklion, and that later you and I had dinner together.’ His voice deepened and softened. ‘And that when I suggested you might allow me to drive you into the mountains today, you agreed. So that we have spent the whole day alone together, walking
and talking, and now we are here—and our meal is cooking, and we both know it is too late for me to take you back to your hotel—and we are content that it is so.’ His voice sank almost to a whisper. Gemma felt his fingers on the nape of her neck, under the fall of her hair, stroking her skin softly and sensuously. ‘And you are waiting, Gemma mou for me to kiss you.’
He had moved while he was speaking, she realised with a jolt. He was so close to her now that their bodies were almost brushing. If she turned her head even a fraction, then their lips would meet...
She had no intention of doing any such thing, of course, only his warm hand smoothing her skin was dangerously, treacherously compelling. She could feel an answering warmth, deep inside her body, an excitement constricting her throat.
She fought it away fiercely. ‘Enjoy your egotistical fantasies, kyrie,’ she said huskily. ‘But they don’t alter a thing. As it happens, I wouldn’t walk to the end of the street with you—in Knossos, or anywhere else. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have potatoes to peel. Your primary requirement is still for food, I understand.’
‘At the moment,’ he said between his teeth, ‘my most crying need is to give you a beating you will always remember. You had better get out of my sight.’
Her impulse was to run like a hare, but she made herself saunter, head held high as if indifferent to the very real threat in his voice.
Once in the kitchen, she sagged against the table with a barely stifled whimper of relief. Just for a moment or two there, it could have been so easy, so fatally easy to let him get to her.
No matter how much she hated him, there was no way she could deny his attraction. Physically, he was one of the most devastating men she had ever seen. He would have turned heads on any street in the world, and under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have given Gemma Barton, with her fair hair, grey-green eyes and chain store clothes a second look.
And no matter how much he might charm her now, no matter how skilfully he might exercise that potent sexuality, that seductive expertise, she couldn’t forget that he was taking her only for some twisted motive of revenge.