by Anne Mather
Helen blushed at this, and before Melissa could say anything else to embarrass her Sam drew them both forward. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘These people are all dying to meet you. Let me introduce you.’
To Helen’s relief, most of the guests spoke at least a smattering of English and, as Sam had said, they were all eager to meet her. Sam had evidently told them that she was a widow and she was offered frequent condolences for her sad loss.
Milos’s sister was there and, after meeting Rhea, Helen could understand why Melissa liked her so much. It might also explain why her daughter was on her best behaviour, but Helen was too relieved to look too hard for explanations.
Alex was a familiar face, and after Sam returned to the bar he seemed to appoint himself her protector. ‘You will have realised by now that we Greeks are always happy to have an excuse for a party,’ he said drily. ‘But I’m so happy for Sam. I know how much he’s missed you all these years.’
‘I’ve missed him, too,’ murmured Helen, only now realising how much she had done so. Then, with a frown, ‘You must have been very young when your mother and—and my father got together.’
‘I was ten,’ agreed Alex with a nod. ‘Although I call your father Sam, he’s always been like a father to me.’
‘I’m sure.’
Helen wanted to ask more and, as if sensing her curiosity, Alex continued, ‘My own father was a fisherman. He was drowned before I was born.’ He paused. ‘He never knew about me. He and my mother were not married, you see.’
Helen nodded, sympathising as much with Maya as with him. It must have been hard for her, too, with a baby on the way and no husband. She knew the feeling.
It was perhaps unfortunate that Milos should choose that moment to join them. Helen visibly jumped when he spoke to her, and she knew Alex had noticed.
‘Kalispera, Helen,’ Milos greeted her smoothly, and if he’d noticed her alarm he didn’t mention it. ‘You’re looking well this evening.’
‘Thank you. I’m fine.’ She spoke a little stiffly, but she couldn’t help it. Then, because something more was expected of her, she added, ‘It was good of you to join us.’
Milos’s lips thinned. ‘It was my pleasure,’ he said, the innocent words belied by his grave expression. He looked down at the half-empty glass of retsina in her hand. ‘Alex, your stepsister is in need of a refill. Can you do that for her?’
‘Oh, but I—’
Helen was about to say she didn’t want another drink, but Milos had already whipped the glass out of her hand and handed it to the other man. Alex looked a little doubtful, but he was too polite to argue with a guest.
‘Kanena provlima,’ he said, good-naturedly, and with a brief word to excuse himself he walked away.
‘He said, no problem,’ Milos offered artlessly, as soon as they were alone, and Helen gave him an accusing look.
‘I didn’t want another drink,’ she said tersely. ‘Please don’t presume to make my decisions for me.’
‘Did I do that?’ Milos lifted his glass to his lips before continuing and she was unwillingly treated to the sight of the muscles moving sinuously in his throat. ‘I thought it might help you to relax,’ he went on, lowering his glass again. ‘You’re strung as tight as a mandolin.’
‘And whose fault is that?’
Milos’s dark brows ascended. ‘I assume you’re making me the culprit.’
‘Who else?’
‘Why?’ His eyes rested briefly on her mouth and she felt the heat of that sensuous appraisal liquefying her insides. ‘I admit, I’m flattered, but as we know one another so well—’
‘We don’t know one another so well,’ she retorted hotly. ‘We—we hardly know one another at all.’
‘Oh, I think we do.’ Milos held her gaze now, and she was helplessly aware of how easily he could turn the tables on her. There was a pregnant silence and then he said, ‘Your daughter likes me.’
Helen felt suddenly chilled in spite of the warm evening. ‘And that’s supposed to be a recommendation?’ she demanded at last, albeit a little faintly. ‘Melissa befriends the most unsuitable people.’
‘Yes, so she was telling me.’
Helen’s jaw dropped. ‘She told you?’
‘Mmm.’ He was infuriatingly casual. ‘We had quite a conversation on the way back from Vassilios.’
Helen had known that, of course. Had seen the conspiratorial smile that had passed between them before her daughter had got out of his car. She’d tried to put it to the back of her mind, had convinced herself it meant nothing. Melissa hadn’t mentioned it and Helen had been too proud to question her.
But now she gazed at Milos with worried eyes. What had Melissa told him to put that look of smug complacency on his face? Not the truth, obviously. But something he considered powerful enough to taunt her in this way.
‘How long has she been dodging school?’ he asked abruptly, and Helen gulped.
‘How do you—?’ Helen broke off and rephrased the question. ‘Did Melissa tell you that?’
‘She didn’t have to,’ said Milos flatly. ‘It goes with the territory. She hangs about with losers. What else can she do?’
Helen wet her dry lips. ‘They’re not all losers,’ she began, and then halted again when Milos gave her a knowing look. ‘Well, all right. We have had some trouble with—with truancy,’ she admitted. ‘But all teen—all children,’ she corrected herself hurriedly, ‘go through a rebellious period.’
‘And that’s all you think it is? A rebellious period.’
‘What else could it be?’ Helen was defensive.
‘It could be the start of a lifetime of underachieving,’ said Milos brutally. ‘What the hell kind of example did your late husband set for her? The girl doesn’t even think education is worth the effort.’
Helen bent her head. ‘I didn’t ask for your opinion.’
‘You did, actually.’ He was relentless. ‘In any case, you’re getting it for free.’
‘You mean, you can’t resist interfering in my life.’ Helen glanced uneasily about her. ‘Where’s Alex? I hope he didn’t take your intrusion as a reason to stay away.’
Milos shrugged. ‘He’ll be back.’
‘And until then, you’re going to annoy me.’ Helen gave a sigh. ‘Isn’t there some other woman desperate for your attention? Why pick on me?’
Milos gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘Perhaps you’re good for my ego.’
Helen shook her head. ‘What do you really want, Milos? I can’t believe you’re enjoying this any more than I am.’
‘You’re wrong.’ Milos leant towards her, his wine-scented breath enveloping her, causing a film of heat to spread unchecked all across her body. ‘We need to talk, Helen. Don’t you agree?’
Helen’s legs felt like jelly. ‘We’re talking now.’
‘Not like this.’ Milos’s eyes bored into hers. ‘We have things to say to one another that are best said in private.’
‘Wh—what things?’
Milos’s hand came up to stroke the exposed skin of her shoulder. ‘Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something,’ he murmured softly. ‘Like why you tremble when I touch you.’ His fingers trailed down her arm, pausing to caress the curve of her breast. ‘Or why you’re not yelling your head off because I’m taking liberties no decent woman would permit.’
‘Or no decent man would perpetrate,’ she got out tremulously. ‘Leave me alone, Milos. Please!’
‘I can’t do that,’ he said huskily, and she felt the brush of his mouth against her temple.
She was sure he was going to kiss her mouth and she was ashamed to admit that she tilted her head back almost compulsively. But then, abruptly, he stepped away from her, and as her brain clicked back into gear she saw Melissa and his sister standing at the other side of the terrace, watching them.
So, no belated twinge of conscience, she thought bitterly. With her history, she should have known better.
It was perhaps predictable that Alex should choose
that moment to return with her drink. ‘There you are,’ he said, handing the refilled glass to her, and, uncaring what she’d told Milos, Helen gulped at it greedily.
‘Thanks,’ she said, when she lowered the glass, aware that both men were regarding her with differing expressions. ‘I needed that.’ And let Milos make what he liked of it!
In the event, her defiance was wasted. As if suddenly losing interest in her, Milos paused only long enough to say ‘Signomi,’ which she knew meant ‘Excuse me,’ before leaving them. He strode away towards the buffet tables where Maya was more than happy to welcome him.
‘Milos seems annoyed,’ said Alex, watching the other man with thoughtful eyes. ‘Has he said anything to upset you?’
‘To upset me?’ Helen’s voice rose on the automatic denial. She struggled to steady herself. ‘Um—no. We—er—we were just talking about old times, that’s all.’
She realised too late that that had probably not been the most sensible thing to say when Alex frowned. ‘I didn’t know you and Milos were old friends,’ he remarked quietly. ‘How did you meet?’
‘Oh—it was years ago,’ said Helen hastily. ‘Milos was on holiday in England and my father asked him to—to look me up.’
‘Really?’ Alex was obviously intrigued. ‘You know, I’ve never known Milos go to England except on business.’
That’d be right, thought Helen cynically. She’d been just another piece of business. A piece of something, anyway, and she’d been the one to pay the price.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT WAS still early when Milos stepped out onto the balcony of his bedroom at Vassilios.
Although the rising sun was already spreading fingers of gold over the grey-blue ocean, a cool breeze drifted about his bare legs and chilled the sweat drying between his shoulder blades. Silk boxers hung dangerously low on his hips, but he didn’t notice. A sense of dissatisfaction was overriding his awareness of everything, including the beauty of the morning.
He’d slept badly again and frustration was making him not only weary, but short-tempered. Dammit, he ought to have had what was troubling him out with Helen the night before and it infuriated him that once again he’d let her off the hook.
But a combination of his aggressiveness and her fragility had once again defeated him. Besides, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her and that had definitely not helped his cause.
Yet this was an emotional business, an emotional time bomb even, and he knew he was a fool for letting her run rings around him. Why did he feel this foolish need to protect her, even from himself? Why, when she looked at him with those wide haunted eyes, did he begin to doubt his own beliefs?
Whatever, the party the Campbells had arranged for them hadn’t been a suitable place to conduct a serious conversation, and Milos had left as soon as he decently could. Rhea had objected. She’d wanted to stay for the dancing, which was to follow the buffet. But Milos had told her rather baldly that, unless she wanted to find her own way home, she would have to leave with him.
The whole evening had been a disaster, he acknowledged, watching the birds scavenging for food on the beach below his balcony. And what was really bugging him was the fact that he was leaving for Athens later today. The conference on world ecology, which he was forced to attend, began the next day, and it would be at least three more days before he could get back to the island.
Frustration swept over him again. He had to talk to Helen before he left. He had to get her to admit the truth about Melissa. Until she did, he was just whistling in the wind.
Even Sam was surprised when Helen was called to the phone and returned to say that Rhea Stephanides had invited her and Melissa to lunch.
‘I don’t know why she’s invited me,’ she murmured, despite Melissa’s sudden enthusiasm. ‘I hardly know the girl.’
‘I do,’ said her daughter eagerly. She frowned at her mother. ‘You didn’t refuse, did you?’
‘No-o.’
Helen admitted that she hadn’t, even though she was still doubtful, and Melissa was pleased. ‘I can always go on my own,’ she said consideringly. ‘I don’t need you to baby me.’ She turned to her grandfather. ‘You’ll take me, won’t you, Sam?’
Helen hesitated. ‘Melissa—’
‘I think you should both go,’ Sam declared firmly, and for once Maya agreed with him.
‘It’s not as if Milos will be there,’ she said smugly. ‘From what I can gather, he’s leaving for Athens this morning.’
‘The conference. Of course.’ Her husband endorsed this statement. ‘It’s a gathering of oil producers discussing the ways of reducing pollution on world ecology,’ he explained to Helen. ‘Milos is one of the keynote speakers.’
‘I see.’
Helen was just absorbing this when Melissa spoke up again. ‘There you go, Mum,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to worry. This isn’t some sneaky way for Milos to get you on your own.’
Helen’s face blazed with colour. ‘I never thought it was,’ she protested hotly, conscious that both Maya and her father were aware of her embarrassment. ‘I wish you wouldn’t say things like that, Melissa. I—I hardly know the man.’
‘He’d like to know you, though,’ said Melissa slyly. ‘Rhea and me saw you together last night, remember?’
‘You saw us talking, that’s all,’ exclaimed Helen, giving her father a humiliated look. ‘Honestly, she has such a vivid imagination!’
‘Don’t let her upset you,’ said Sam mildly, his eyes twinkling at his granddaughter. ‘She’s only teasing you. We all know Milos is easy on the eye, but I don’t imagine you’re foolish enough to take him seriously. You’ve got the wrong idea, Melissa. I think you should apologise.’
Melissa looked sulky now and Helen’s heart sank at the prospect of what she was sure was to come. But in the event all Melissa said was, ‘But Mum does like Milos; I know she does. And he couldn’t take his eyes off her when we were having supper.’
Sam sighed, but it was Maya who chose to answer the girl. ‘You’re imagining things. It’s like your grandfather says, Milos has always been popular with the opposite sex. But you shouldn’t run away with the idea that he might be interested in an Englishwoman. Greeks marry Greeks. It’s the way it should be.’
‘You didn’t—’ began Melissa, but before she could dig a bigger hole for herself Sam spoke again.
‘Be that as it may, I do agree that Maya might have a point. I think Milos has had enough of marriage. I don’t think he’s likely to burn his hands again.’
An hour later, Helen found herself in the front seat of her father’s Jeep. He’d offered to drive them to the Stephanides’s villa at San Rocco himself after Melissa had taken her mother’s breath away by apologising for upsetting them all.
‘We’re almost there,’ Sam said suddenly, pointing to the white walls of a villa just visible above some trees. ‘That’s Aristotle’s place up there. It doesn’t have a pool,’ he added for Melissa’s benefit, ‘but the views are magnificent.’
‘You’ve been here, then?’
Melissa loosened her seat belt and leaned forward to rest her arms along the backs of their seats, and her grandfather nodded. ‘Many times,’ he agreed. ‘As you know, the Stephanideses are distantly related to Maya.’
‘And she doesn’t let us forget it,’ remarked Melissa unthinkingly, before adding, ‘Sorry. It looks great.’
‘It is.’ Her grandfather wasn’t offended. ‘It’s not as modern as Milos’s place, of course, but I think you’ll like it.’
Rhea came out to meet them as the Jeep reached the gravelled forecourt. She was wearing an ankle-length wraparound skirt and a sleeveless shirt, tied at her midriff, and Helen saw the way Melissa checked out her appearance as she got out of the vehicle.
The two girls greeted one another warmly, but although Rhea invited Sam in he said he’d be on his way. Rhea also offered to see that Helen and Melissa arrived home safely and Helen guessed her father would be glad not to have to ma
ke the journey a second time.
She was also relieved to see that Rhea looked more her age this morning. Last evening, the resemblance between the two girls had seemed obvious. But today Rhea looked older, more mature. Which was reassuring.
‘You both look nice,’ she remarked now, surveying her guests as they entered the deliciously cool entrance hall of the villa. She gestured towards Melissa’s low-rise cotton trousers. ‘Are they new?’
‘Yes.’ Melissa preened at the unaccustomed praise. ‘And Mum’s dress is new, too. Do you like it?’
‘Very much,’ said Rhea politely, but Helen guessed the cheap sundress, in shades of blue and green, was not something Rhea herself would ever dream of wearing.
‘It was kind of you to invite us,’ she said, hoping to change the subject. ‘Melissa enjoyed herself so much at Vassilios the other day.’
‘Y-e-s.’ Rhea drew out the word as if she wasn’t exactly sure she meant it. ‘But I’m afraid I’m not the person you should thank for the invitation.’
‘I’m sorry …’
Helen was struggling to comprehend what she meant when a dark shadow emerged through the archway to their right. ‘No,’ said Milos pleasantly, smiling at Melissa who had turned to give her mother a triumphant grin. And, as Helen’s eyes adjusted to the light he added, ‘I fear I’m to blame. Will you forgive me?’
For a moment, Helen couldn’t say anything. But then, her eyes turning from Milos’s dark face to Rhea’s and back again, she said, ‘I thought—that is—Maya said you were leaving for Athens today.’
‘I am.’ Milos was clearly visible now, a tall, disturbing figure in a black shirt and matching jeans. He glanced at his sister. ‘Why don’t you ask Marisa to bring us some refreshments, Rhea? We’ll be on the terrace.’
‘I’ll go with you, Rhea,’ said Melissa at once, and, although Helen wanted to stop her, she knew she could speak more freely without her daughter’s watching gaze.
‘Is that all right with you, Milos?’
Rhea looked to her brother for his approval and Helen’s nails dug into her palms. They were all in thrall to this arrogant man, she thought helplessly. Oh, God, why had she ever agreed to come?