Desire

by Anne Hampson

  Kim's uneasy mind insisted on reminding her of the possibility that, despite her resolve to try to win her husband's love, Vidas might forever remain as remote as he was at present. On going away he had thought fit to remind her that theirs was not a normal marriage, and he was not, of course, referring to the physical side, which was now perfectly normal, fulfilling their desires in a way that could not be faulted. Compatibility was supreme; no couple wildly in love could have given each other more than they did. For Kim, detachment from reality was complete; it was as if she became a disembodied spirit floating in a realm of languid emotion and idealistic dreams, where love was, and she knew the ecstasy of giving and receiving in all its primordial purity and willing sacrifice. And, passionate though her husband was, his way with her was now characterised by respect and gentleness and the firm resolve that she should never be disappointed. And so her love for him had flourished and increased until, at those intimate times, it overflowed, and she was amazed that he had not discovered the secret of her heart. Sometimes she wished he would discover it, so that she could see what his reaction would be; at other times she squirmed at the idea, sure her humiliation would be such as to cause a rift, or at least a coolness in her attitude towards his lovemaking. And if this should happen, Vidas might have second thoughts and decide he wanted his freedom, especially as there was no longer any possibility of Alexandra returning to the castle. She had recently sent word that she wanted several items that she claimed were hers; she had moved to the island of Rhodes, and as she had taken a large house, she would require some furniture and other necessities from her former home. Vidas had made no objection and the servants had been busy collecting these items together, ready to be delivered when Alexandra gave the word.

  Realising how much her thoughts had wandered, Kim returned to her earlier musings. No, Vidas had not been referring to the physical side of their marriage; he was reminding her that it had not been based on love. Yet there were times when in some inexplicable way she had sensed more in his lovemaking than the mere assuaging of a physical need. She could not put her finger on it but felt it to be there. Could it be possible that, once he had been disillusioned about his first estimation of her character, he was now finding himself drawn to her in an entirely different way from the purely physical? But if so, why the restraint he put upon his feelings for her? The only feasible answer was that, determined as he had always been not to become emotionally involved with a woman, he was making a supreme effort to hold on to his original intention. A faint smile hovered on Kim's lips as she continued to ponder this in the light of her own anxious uncertainty. Her recent all-embracing pessimism became vague, then vanished altogether as she found herself refusing to accept that he was beyond her reach.

  One morning, a few days after Vidas's departure for the capital, Kim felt so restless that she decided to take a long walk, exploring a wider circle of her surroundings, and she found herself heading for the castle on the cliff where the Greek lived with his Irish wife. Although not expecting to see the girl, Kim .hoped she would, and just as she reached the imposing wrought-iron gates a young woman emerged, swinging a large sun hat in her hand.

  Without a moment's hesitation Kim said brightly, 'Good afternoon. It's a lovely day.'

  The girl stopped and blinked, then a smile spread over her face. In the few seconds before she responded to her greeting, Kim examined the girl's face. She saw the typical Irish colleen look—fine bone structure and thin features, clear peach-tinted skin and rosy lips. Her hair was dark, contrasting with the vivid blue of her eyes.

  'Hello! So you are the bride of Vidas Christou! I'd hoped we'd meet soon. Please come into my home and have some refreshment.'

  'I'd love to,' agreed Kim happily. 'I must admit that I too had hoped we'd meet. It's nice to hear one's own language spoken without an accent.'

  'But I do have an accent.' The girl laughed and then told Kim to call her Bridie.

  'My name's Kim,' was the immediate response as she fell into step with the girl, who had turned back into the long, tree-shaded drive.

  'My husband's name is Georgios; naturally I call him George.' Bridie was swinging along, her dark hair flowing; she was happy and it showed in every vital movement, in every turn of her head that revealed her animated countenance. Kim sighed, envying her, yet somehow this meeting with the girl set her own hopes for happiness soaring. She felt lighter in heart, even more optimistic about making her husband fall in love with her. 'Here we are. My husband's not in at present, but you must come again—or perhaps we might call on you?'

  'Anytime.' Kim smiled, feeling she had already made a friend. 'Do you have a lot of free time? I mean, have you any children?'

  'Not yet. We keep trying,' Bridie added with a sudden grimace, 'but no luck! However, we've not been married quite two years yet, and so we remain optimistic.'

  The castle was similar in construction to the Castello Astura, which was not surprising since they were both built by the Venetians. Bridie clapped her hands to bring a servant, and Kim had to smile at this habit she had obviously acquired from her husband. It was quite customary for a Greek man to summon his employees in this way. The girl who came in response was small and slender with dusky skin, raven hair, and a wide smile which highlighted several gold fillings. Her husband worked as head gardener on the estate. Bridie ordered tea and cakes and suggested they have these refreshments on the back patio, which at this time of day was flooded with sunshine. The sea lay still and blue before them, the sky a sapphire canopy, cloudless and brittle.

  'You have a magnificent view,' commented Kim, helping herself to a delicious pastry filled with fresh cream and topped with nuts.

  'Your view is just as spectacular, but in a different way.'

  'Yes. You've been to the Castello Astura, obviously?'

  'When Dendras was there he sometimes threw a party, and everyone was invited. It was dreadfully sad about him,' reflected Bridie, suddenly grave. 'And now his mother's gone, we hear?'

  'That's right.'

  'It was laid down in old Mr. Christou's will that she must leave on Vidas's marriage.' Kim said nothing, and after a moment Bridie said, a curious ring to her soft Irish brogue, 'How did you get along with her? Or is that too personal a question for you to answer?'

  Kim had to smile at the girl's open curiosity. She was willing to risk a rebuff in order to satisfy that curiosity. 'I didn't get on with her very well,' she confessed. 'But even her own son seemed to have differences with her.'

  'Everyone did. But it was rumored that your husband especially could not abide her and about a year ago he almost—' Bridie stopped short, colouring up as she put a hand to her mouth.

  Kim could not help saying, noticing the girl's avoidance of her stare, 'Almost… what, Bridie?'

  The other girl shrugged her shoulders. 'It was nothing.' She took up a small wedge of pastry she had cut from the larger piece on her plate and raised it to her mouth. 'Forget it, please.'

  But Kim found it impossible to do so. She wanted to know more, perhaps because of her paucity of knowledge about her husband's past life. 'I satisfied your curiosity just now,' she reminded Bridie gently, 'so I expect you to satisfy mine.'

  'It's so personal,' began Bridie, a trifle distressed. 'Er… can I pour you another cup of tea?'

  Kim frowned, biting her lip. She said she would have her cup refilled. 'The Christou family have lived at the castle for a long time, haven't they?'

  'It's always been in the family. Well, for several generations,' answered Bridie, pouring the tea. 'It's a beautiful place. I love the sunken pools in the terrace and the serene nobility of the setting. Although ours is on the cliff, I have always thought that yours has the finer setting.'

  Kim said nothing. Bridie had spoken without raising her lids, and Kim knew she was talking for talkings sake, just so that Kim would not have the chance to reintroduce the subject of Vidas, and what he had almost done a year ago. 'What part of Ireland do you come from?' enquired Kim
conversationally when at last Bridie fell silent.

  'The west—Galway.'

  'I believe it's beautiful.'

  'I think so,' she returned with pride. 'I never expected to leave it—not ever.'

  'How did you meet George?' asked Kim interestedly, and was told that Bridie had been working in an hotel when Georgios came to stay as a guest on holiday.

  'It was love at first sight.' Bridie laughed reflectively. 'It often is with Greeks.'

  'But not many Greeks fall in love at all.'

  'You mean they've a reputation for being amorous and unfaithful?' Bridie was amused but nodded all the same. 'It's true, unfortunately for many wives. However, Greek girls don't often expect love, so they don't attach too much importance to it. The status of wife and mother is usually what they're aiming at from an early age.' A pause followed this before Bridie added, eyeing her newfound friend curiously, 'How did you and Vidas come to meet?'

  Kim had anticipated the question and merely answered that she had met Vidas through his brother.

  'Dendras?' with a fractional lift of her brows. 'How come?'

  It was a difficult topic, one which Kim, understandably, meant to avoid embarking on, so she gave a laugh and said lightly, 'You expect me to satisfy your curiosity when you refuse to satisfy mine?'

  'It isn't quite the same,' protested Bridie.

  'The fact remains that you whetted my appetite for knowledge, then withheld it.'

  'Oh, all right,' returned Bridie with a shrug of resignation. 'About a year ago Vidas began paying a good deal of attention to a distant cousin of George's who visits us frequently, and everyone believed he was on the point of asking her to marry him, just so he could get his stepmother out of the house.'

  'On the point…' Kim murmured, recalling Vidas's comments regarding his attitude towards marriage. It would appear he had been driven almost to the very end of his patience. 'And now,' she said as the idea occurred to her, 'does everyone believe this to be the reason for his marrying me?' The question came out swiftly, before Kim could check it.

  'No, of course not!'

  'You needn't spare my feelings, Bridie. It would be natural for people to reach the same conclusion now as they did then.' Kim was perfectly calm; it was Bridie who was uncomfortable.

  'Vidas was bound to fall in love one day,' she managed after a slight pause. 'I for one do not think he married you for the specific purpose of ridding himself of that horrid woman.' Another pause and then, 'You're so pretty that he would be bound to fall in love with you.'

  Kim coloured but soon regained her composure. She said nothing and the subject changed as Bridie asked Kim how she was passing her time on an island where there was little to do beyond what nature itself could provide. Kim owned that she was rather lost now that her husband was away, but said she enjoyed the house and grounds, and exploring the countryside. And at last she rose to go, promising to come again but extending an invitation to Bridie to come over to see her.

  'I'll phone you first,' promised Bridie, as she went with Kim to the gate. 'It'll not be this week because I have some charity work to do.'

  They said good-bye and Kim walked home slowly, the thought uppermost in her mind that Vidas had, only a year before, been driven almost to marriage. But he had obviously thought better of it, a circumstance that did not in the least surprise Kim, because she could not for one moment imagine Vidas acting impulsively, doing something he knew he might eventually regret. His marriage to her was different, a decision which had been coloured by a purpose other than that of ridding himself of his stepmother. Vidas had believed that an heir was to be born. Yes, his marriage to Kim had been a calculated move, which he had thought he would never regret. Already the marriage in name only had become much more than he intended, and although he had no love for her, he was happy with a relationship which, for her, fulfilled the desires of the mind and body if not the heart. She found divine enchantment in their intimacy; it had a rare beauty, Which, if he should ever come to love her, would take them as close to paradise as it was possible to be. Dreams… ? Perhaps, but not pipe dreams, not with the vow she had made herself.

  Chapter Eight

  It was a cordial, intimate evening which followed Vidas's homecoming in the early afternoon. Kim was in the garden when the car, taken to the harbour by Akis, one of the manservants, bowled along the wide avenue of trees and slid to a halt on the forecourt of the castle. Vidas had phoned earlier to give Kim the approximate time of arrival of the Knossos, the ferry boat from the port of Piraeus, and she felt excited ever since.

  She made sure she would be close by when the car arrived, and as she came forward Vidas was easing his long athletic body from the backseat. She waited for his response to the quivering smile of welcome that hovered on her lips, but he frowned instead, his dark eyes scanning her body from head to toe. It was a tense, electrified moment, characterised by desire on Kim's part, the exquisitely exciting yearning of a woman for her dearly loved husband, but on his part… what? His eyes had fixed themselves on the delectable curves above her slender waist, and she sensed the primitive desire of passion, for physical contact with her body. If only he would take her in his arms and kiss her, tell her he had missed her!

  'Did you have a profitable trip?' she asked, compelled to break the silence.

  'As usual, yes,' he said casually, as his eyes wandered momentarily to the stocky figure of Akis, who was taking the suitcases from the boot of the car. 'And how have you gone on?' He stepped a little closer to her before turning towards the massive oaken door of the castle.

  'I've occupied myself all right,' she answered, wishing she could have said just how eagerly she had awaited his return.

  He left her in the hall, and to her disappointment, she did not see him again until she almost bumped into him several hours later as he came from his study. She was going up to change for dinner and later, as the communicating door was ajar, she heard him moving about in his bedroom. Just as she was about to go down, the door opened and he stood there, tall, distinguished, impeccably attired in a superbly cut suit of buff-coloured linen, the gleaming whiteness of his shirt a startling contrast to the Arab darkness of his skin. She looked at his hair, gleaming and dark, sprinkled with silver at the temples. She caught her breath, suddenly awed by the sheer magnificence of him; he was like a Greek god, arrogantly aware of his superiority and his power. But as they stood there staring at one another it was as if, almost against his will, he could no longer remain impervious to her charms, and a slow smile dawned, spreading warmth to her veins and happiness to her heart. His hand beckoned and she went to him, obedient to the silent command.

  'You're beautiful!' He caught her to him, locking his lips to hers. She clung to him, a diversity of emotions assailing her. On the one hand she was fully aware of the danger that he would guess at her feelings for him, but at the same time she was quite unable to control her eagerness to be in his arms. Her small hands slid round his neck, her caressing fingers feather-light in their tender movement from his throat to his nape. She felt a quiver shoot through him and leant back, eager to note his expression. The gleam of passion shone in his eyes, but there was a whimsical quality about the sensual mouth, which made Kim suspect he was deriving amusement from her curiosity. Swift and delicate colour swept her cheeks; her lashes fluttered down as she attempted to hide her expression from his all-seeing gaze. She felt his fingers beneath her chin, forcing it up as he compelled her to look at him. He stared into her lovely eyes for a long moment before bending his head to take her lips in a prolonged and sensual kiss that took her to the dizzy heights of ecstasy. She closed her eyes, abandoning herself to the rapture of the moment, vitally conscious of the tantalising smell of expensive after-shave lotion, which mingled with the more pungent smell of newly laundered linen.

  His mouth against her cheek was moist as he asked, 'What are you thinking, my beautiful wife?'

  'I'm just happy,' she answered lightly. And, after a fractional hesitation
, 'Are you happy, Vidas?'

  'Of course. How could it be otherwise when I own such a beautiful woman, own her body and soul?'

  Kim knew she should have resented the conceit in his tone, and the unmistakable hint of mockery, but her desires were too intense for her to take exception to anything her husband did or said. She had missed him unbearably and now he was home; the relief was joy, happiness, emotional contentment. Her winning smile challenged him, and to her satisfaction, his face softened. When he kissed her it was with gentleness not unmingled with tender passion, and his hands were warm and caressing when presently they came round to frame her face. A suffusion of delicate colour rose in her cheeks as he continued to gaze down into her eyes, and a swift, involuntary laugh escaped him as he said, 'You're very young, my dear.'

  'You once said I was almost thirty,' she could not help reminding him, a twinkle of amusement replacing the dreamy expression in her eyes.

  'Never!' he denied. 'How could I?'

  She felt obliged to explain, because he was looking attentively at her, awaiting her reply.

  'Oh, then.' He tossed the matter off with a nonchalant gesture of his hand. 'Things were very different.' His fingers began tracing a line from one high cheekbone to her throat. 'You turned out to be very different from what I had been given to understand.'

  'So you're not sorry you married me?'

  The dark eyes glimmered with an unfathomable light. 'What are you asking me, Kim?'

  'It was a simple question.'

  'With hidden meaning.'

  Did he guess that she was willing him to say he loved her? 'You're imagining things.' Confusion was difficult to conceal, and she buried her face in his shoulder, aware of the muscled hardness of his chest and the even beating of his heart.