The goddess of Mavisu

by Rebecca Stratton

  Yet again Kemal Selim invaded her thoughts and just as determinedly Delia tried to dismiss him. Clifford was right, of course; she could get hurt very

  easily by a man like Kemal, and if she did it would be difficult to blame anyone but herself, for she had so far received not the slightest encouragement. If Kemal found her attractive at all, which he showed no sign of doing, it would merely be as a passing fancy, a brief amusement—Clifford was a much safer proposition.

  Delia was so caught up in her own rather discomfiting musings that it was a moment or two before she realised there was a car coming up the hill from Antalya. She had seen no one until now and it occurred to her suddenly that anyone seeing her there beside the road dressed as she was could be forgiven for coming to quite the wrong conclusions.

  Instinctively she moved round the huge trunk of the tree and as far out of sight as she could from anyone on the road. It was not certain, of course, that a passing motorist would be curious enough to stop, but supposing they did she had no way of knowing what opportunities a man might see in such an encounter.

  A smooth gear change coped with the increasing incline and a second later the sound of the engine grew louder when the car came round the bend in the road. Thinking herself out of sight, Delia listened, waiting for the car to pass and the sound to fade away, but instead the engine was cut suddenly and the car stopped, only yards from where she stood.

  A door slammed and the heavy tread of male feet approached from the other side of the tree while Delia stood there, her eyes briefly closed in a prayer

  for the ability to cope with the offer of an unwanted lift, and possibly a driver misled by appearances as well. Without turning her head she could sense the scrutiny of curious eyes and the first inkling of realisation dawned as she turned at last and looked into the dark, frowning face of Kemal Selim.

  Her heart lurched crazily when the brown eyes met hers head on and she almost smiled her relief, only his expression discouraged any such levity. There was a stern disapproving look in the eyes that noticed her bright, red-gold head was without a hat, and her fingers curled, scraping against the bark of the tree as she licked her lips anxiously, avoiding his gaze.

  He missed nothing—the slender bare legs and the brevity of the blue cotton shorts, the thin shirt that was stretched across the young curves of her body where her arms pulled it tight, and the flimsy sandals that made poor walking on the hot, stony road.

  `Are you quite mad, cocuk?' Kemal asked sternly, and Delia shook her head, too stunned for the moment to object to his question or the tone of his voice. 'Why are you out here?' he demanded. 'And in that—that costume? Have you no sense?'

  Delia glanced down at her bare legs and suddenly felt as if she had appeared, in public stark naked and quite brazen about it. Her shirt too, clinging to her figure, felt much too thin and flimsy for decency, and she moved her arms from around the trunk of the tree and folded them across her breast in a curiously defensive gesture. Why, she

  thought desperately, did he have to make her feel as if she should be ashamed?

  `I—I only came out for a walk,' she said after a moment, and Kemal swept his dark gaze over her swiftly.

  'Like that?' he asked.

  Defensiveness was giving way to resentment gradually and Delia thrust out her chin in a gesture that was meant to deny his right to criticise her or the way she dressed. 'I didn't stop to change,' she told him, 'but you don't have to look at me as if

  'I am looking at you as any other man would! ' Kemal Selim interrupted coldly, a coldness that was belied by the dark glitter in his eyes. 'What would you have done if a stranger had stopped and taken your—invitation at its face value?'

  'Invitation?' Delia stared at him indignantly, scarcely believing he meant it seriously. 'You surely can't believe I came out here to ' She curled her hands tightly over her bare arms and she was trembling like a leaf as she looked at him. 'How dare your she whispered huskily, but Kemal merely looked at her down the length of his haughty nose.

  Her slim bare legs felt so much more conspicuous suddenly and she would have given much to walk off and leave him, but her legs felt quite incredibly shaky and unsteady. Also she would have to brush past him to get to the road and at the moment she had not the nerve to do it.

  Kemal regarded her steadily. `Do you imagine

  that Turks are different from other men?' he asked, and Delia shook her head. She should be angry, but her heart was pulsating so violently and there was a curious trickle of warning tingling through her body as she looked at him.

  'No; no, of course not,' she said in a small tight voice.

  The dark eyes held hers steadily despite her frantic longing to look away. 'A natural modesty protects our womenfolk, hanim,' he said in a soft quiet voice, 'but offered such a display of soft pale skin so freely displayed, why should a man not feel himself entitled to take what he sees?'

  The huge trunk of the tree was firmly set at her back and she wondered dizzily if his warning applied only to others of his countrymen or if it voiced his own reactions too—if it did there was no way of escape for her. She looked at him for a moment, trembling and uncertain, but strengthened by a certain defiance too, her green eyes wide and wary.

  'You—you talk as if I was some—some immoral little—'

  'I suggested nothing of the sort,' Kemal denied firmly but quietly. 'But you were surely not intending to walk into Antalya looking as you do, were you, hanim?'

  'Why not?' Delia could not resist the retort, although she had never seriously intended to walk so far or to appear in the town dressed as she was.

  There was a tenseness about him, she realised suddenly, a taut straightness about his mouth that sent little shivers of warning along her spine as she

  looked at him, but far from feeling alarmed Delia

  felt suddenly and quite unbelievably lightheaded.

  Kemal's dark eyes swept over her again, but not swiftly and angrily this time. Now the gaze was slow and explicit, taking in every curve of her slender shape so that she shivered and hugged her arms still more closely to her body.

  `Why not?' He echoed her question, his voice warm and deep and so blatantly sensual that it played havoc with her senses. 'Are you such a child, Delia, that you have to ask me that?'

  His use of her christian name and the bright glowing darkness of his eyes were both unexpected and infinitely disturbing, and she shook her head slowly, like someone in a dream. Above all was the effect of that deep, sensuous voice that stirred unfamiliar longings in her and her heart was beating so wildly that she felt breathless as she tried hard to control it.

  `I—I'm not a child at all,' she denied in a small husky voice. 'And no matter what you think, Kemal Bey, I wasn't trying to attract attention to myself. I —I disagreed with Clifford—Mr. Aitkin—and I simply walked off and left him. Anyway,' she added trying to re-establish her right to be dressed as she pleased, 'it didn't really matter how I was dressed, because I haven't seen anyone!'

  Kemal held her reluctant gaze for a second or two and just for a moment a brief smile touched his mouth, softening its stern outline. Then he reached out with his hands suddenly, and firmly but gently pulled her arms apart, holding her for a

  moment with her hands in his, spread wide while he looked down the slim length of her body. The warmth of his nearness enveloped her, spiced with a masculine scent that recalled for her the last time she had been this close to him.

  `You saw me,' Kemal said quietly. `Do you think me any less impressionable than any other man?' Again the dark eyes swept over her, making her conscious of the brevity of her costume and the hard strong hands that held her arms apart. `You should learn that to offer your body so freely for men to see is not always wise, kiiciik, and perhaps I am the one to teach you, hmm?'

  Delia was too dazed to try and evade him and in her heart she was not even sure that she wanted to. She shivered as he drew her closer and instinctively put out her hands to the broad firm chest, her
open palms warmed by the golden skin through his thin shirt.

  He bent his head and his mouth touched the softness of her throat, a light, breathless touch that sent her senses whirling out of control as she closed her eyes. With a slow deliberation that was exciting in itself his mouth moved to a spot at the side of her neck, strong fingers curling slowly into the soft red-gold hair and pulling it aside, caressing her warm skin as they did so.

  Strong gentle hands slid the cotton shirt down from her shoulders and he kissed the smoothness of her neck and shoulders, his mouth firm and sensuous and arousing such sensations in her that Delia almost cried out. Nothing she had ever imagined

  had been like this and she must wake at any moment and find it was all a dream.

  There was nothing dreamlike about the taut, hard body that held her close, demanding so much, nor the hands that brought shivers of sensation with their gentle, firm persuasion, but she could not really believe it was happening. The wild uncontrollable excitement that seared through her body made her yield to the sudden fierce pressure of his mouth on hers and there was nothing she could do to fight the needs of her own body.

  It was as if someone had suddenly taken the warmth from the sun when Kemal released her only seconds later, and Delia stood for a second, her mind in chaos, her brain spinning with the unexpectedness of it. Kemal stood with his back to her, his dark head bent against the arm that stretched out straight in front of him, the hand flat palmed against the trunk of the plane tree.

  `That should not have happened, Delia Hanim,' he said in the firm cool voice she was more accustomed to, and for a second Delia stared at the broad back presented to her with wide unbelieving eyes.

  Her hands, her whole body, trembled with the emotional shock of the last few minutes and she could not yet face the fact of his apparent calmness. `Please,' she whispered after several seconds. 'Don't —don't apologise.'

  He turned suddenly and looked down at her, and his dark eyes blazed with some inner passion that even now made her tremble at the sight of it. 'You are a guest in my grandfather's house,' he said, still

  unbelievably cool and matter-of-fact. It was ill-mannered to take such advantage of a lady under his protection.'

  Delia stared at him in dismay, her eyes stunned into blankness and as green as the leaves of the plane tree with the sun shining through them. It was not easy to forget the hard urgency of his body while he had held her, and she could still feel the impression of his strong hands tingling on her skin, and yet he was quite composedly passing off those few wildly exciting moments as merely a breach of good manners.

  `Ill—ill-mannered?' She swallowed hard and shook her head slowly, like someone in a dream. 'Is that all

  Kemal frowned and it was obvious that he found her reaction not only unexpected but discomfortingly naïve. Delia turned away swiftly, unable to face him now that he realised how deeply that brief episode had affected her, and tried to recover some of her composure.

  She heard him move, but he did not touch her, merely came and stood close behind her so that she was still aware of the enveloping warmth of him and curled her hands tightly. 'Come,' he said quietly, 'I will take you back!'

  He turned and walked back towards the car, but Delia did not follow him as he obviously expected her to and when he realised it he turned and looked back at her. She still stood there under the huge plane tree, small and somehow very vulnerable, and she shook her head when he raised an en-

  quiring brow.

  `I'll walk back, thank you,' she said, and her voice sounded so small that it barely carried the few short yards to where he stood watching her, the car door open, ready for her.

  For a moment she thought he would simply get into the car and drive away, leaving her there, and she felt she would have hated him for it if he had, but instead he came back towards her and she felt her heart thudding wildly as she put her arms once more around the plane tree as if clinging to it would prevent his taking her back by force.

  His expressive dark eyes were half hidden by the short thick lashes that surrounded them and he looked down at her for several seconds before he spoke. 'You will come back with me, hanim,' he insisted quietly. 'I have already broken the code of hospitality once because of you, you will not force me to do so again! '

  One large hand was extended towards her and, uncertain whether she was meant to take it or simply treat it as an indication of direction, Delia hesitated briefly, then walked past him towards the car on legs that trembled as if they would at any moment collapse under her.

  Kemal saw her into the car in silence, then walked round and got in beside her. He turned in his seat to look at her, then shook his head slowly, and she wondered if it really was a hint of smile she saw twitching the corner of his wide mouth. 'I assume that you will be complaining to your uncle about my behaviour,' he said, as if there was abso-

  lutely no doubt in his mind, but Delia shook her head.

  The idea of telling Uncle Arthur about Kemal having kissed her would mean little to him. He knew Sadi Selim and he looked upon both the old man and his grandson as men after his own heart, he would see nothing wrong in the younger one kissing his niece—only Clifford would feel outraged at the idea, and she certainly did not propose telling Clifford!

  'I shan't tell anyone,' she denied huskily, and carefully avoided looking at him as she said it.

  Kemal studied her for a second through narrowed eyes, then he shrugged. 'Your native penchant for freedom! ' he remarked dryly. 'You consider it of no concern to the professor that you are at such risk walking about alone? That such things can happen to you that you have no control over?'

  Delia found the temptation too much to resist, and she felt it worth risking his anger to be revenged for that coldly formal ending to their embrace. Her chin was high and her green eyes glistened with satisfaction as she turned and looked at him. 'Oh, but according to you, Kemal Bey,' she said in a deceptively meek voice, 'it wouldn't have happened at all if I hadn't been walking about practically naked—Uncle Arthur wouldn't blame you, how could he? And Clifford already thinks you have designs on me, so he wouldn't be surprised either ! '

  The expression Kemal used was short, terse and, unless Delia was very much mistaken, extremely

  virulent, and his eyes blazed as he looked down at her. 'You treat such matters very lightly, hanim!' he told her in a cold hard voice. But be assured that Mr. Aitkin need have no worry about your future safety in my hands you are more Of a child than I had realised!'

  He turned away abruptly and started the engine, and the muscles of his thigh where it pressed against her warned Delia that he was angrier than she had expected, and somehow, despite that angry jibe about her youth, it gave her a curious satisfaction to realise it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MADAME RENOIR was looking at Delia enquiringly and there was a hint of that familiar mischief in her light brown eyes as she leaned towards her across the corner of the table. 'You are daydreaming, petite, huh?' she asked, and laughed delightedly when Delia blinked herself hastily back to reality.

  `I suppose I was,' Delia admitted with a smile. `I'm sorry, madame.'

  `Mail non, why should you be sorry?' Madame Renoir demanded good-naturedly. 'Young girls are entitled to dream, especially about l'amour, eh, aérie?'

  It was purely an instinctive movement when Delia glanced at Kemal before she replied and she did not even realise she had done so until he met and held her gaze. 'Oh no, madame! ' she denied hastily, avoiding those faintly curious eyes. 'I—I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just, as you say, daydreaming. There's nothing I can do on the site this afternoon, so I shall probably go in search of one of those lovely cold streams that come down from the mountains.'

  `You mean to walk?' Madame Renoir asked, quite obviously thinking the idea quite mad. 'But in this heat, chérie, you will be exhausted! '

  Delia smiled and shook her head. It was an idea she had entertained for some time now and she had no intention of
allowing Madame Renoir's well-meaning concern to put her off. 'I was thinking of going up into the forest, the woods just off the road,' she explained. 'It won't be hot among the trees, but I'll wear a hat anyway.' She laughed softly, already revelling in the idea of cool running water. 'The thought of that icy cold water is irresistible! '

  Madame Renoir still looked dubious, however, and the glances she cast in Kemal's direction suggested that she expected him to intervene, to try and dissuade Delia from going, but Kemal was, to all appearances, oblivious of either the proposed venture or the need for his intervention. Clifford on the other hand had caught the general gist of the plan and it was obvious that he was unhappy about it.

  He frowned across at Delia anxiously, a morsel of

  pilav suspended on his fork, half way to his mouth. `Are you planning to go somewhere this afternoon, Delia?' he asked, and the slightly defiant angle of her chin when she looked at him was echoed by the look in her eyes.

  'I'm just going for a short walk on my own,' Delia told him. 'Only a few yards along the road and up into the trees, so there's absolutely nothing for you to look so concerned about, Clifford.'

  Clifford's grey eyes gleamed determinedly behind his glasses and he leaned across the table towards her, his voice low but none the less firm. 'I'll come with you,' he declared. 'You're not traipsing around in the woods on your own, Delia, heaven knows what you'll come across ! '

  Delia frowned at him impatiently. 'Oh, Clifford, for heaven's sake! I shan't meet anything more dangerous than a—a mountain goat—there isn't anything more dangerous than that so near to a town, I'm sure of it! I don't need you to come with me, or anyone else, I'll be perfectly all right on my own! '