by Mandy Baggot
She heard Panos climb into the room and she turned her head from the scene. ‘It’s a beautiful view.’
Panos stood behind her, circling his hands around her waist, his body tight to hers, his head nuzzling her neck until she could feel his breath on her skin. ‘I wanted you to see it.’
‘You used to play here? When you were small?’
She felt him nod. ‘Yes.’ Then a sigh left him. ‘Out of all the memories I have of family life when I was a child, this house in the tree is one of the good ones, perhaps…’ He took a moment. ‘Perhaps the best one.’
She turned to face him, taking his hands in hers. ‘Tell me.’
He hesitated for a second, then grabbed for something on the shelf to his right. He shook out a blanket, laying it on the floor. Slipping off her sandals she sat down, curling her legs up underneath her and watching as he did the same just opposite, their knees almost touching.
‘We built it together,’ he began. ‘Me and my father. In one weekend. Early morning until late at night until it was ready.’ His eyes went to the window and the view. ‘I was six and it was the happiest few days of my entire life. How must that sound to you, Imogen?’
She shrugged. ‘Some times are just made more perfect than others.’ She smiled. ‘I have one day that makes me feel happier than the rest.’
‘With your husband?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘No… nothing with him.’ She smiled. ‘Mum, Dad, Harry and me spent a day on the beach in Bournemouth. I was ten and Harry would have been fourteen. There was nothing remarkable about it except we laughed the whole day long. We swam in the sea, Harry made a sand aeroplane Airbus would have commissioned… I admired the lifeguards and Mum and Dad held hands and collected shells.’ She smiled again, recalling that perfect sunshine summer in August when everything had been simple and she was just a girl with her life stretching out in front of her. ‘Mum made so many egg sandwiches we were still eating them three days after that trip.’
Panos reached for her hand. ‘I don’t know what to do, Imogen.’
‘What do you mean?’
He sighed, dropping his eyes for a moment. ‘I do not think I can develop the beachfront now.’
A gasp left her and she quickly swallowed it down.
He let go of her hand and put his fingers to his eyes, closing the lids and pressing the skin as if they hurt. ‘I do not know what I am doing any more,’ he admitted.
‘Where has this come from?’ she asked, studying his expression.
He shook his head. ‘I came back here conflicted and I thought if I could just put my mark on the town, make it my place again, then everything would be… right.’ He sighed. ‘But then the restaurant was gone and my grandmother was so much older and all these memories just started haunting me like ghosts in Greek traditional clothing.’ He shook his head again. ‘And I hated it as much as I craved it.’
She didn’t know what to say. She reached for his hand again, taking it in hers and smoothing her fingers over his.
‘I think I got it wrong,’ he stated. ‘I think I came looking for something that wasn’t there.’ He looked to the window. ‘I think I wanted justification for staying away all these years, for keeping out of touch with my mother, for distancing myself from this place.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I think I wanted to believe that my father was this hard-hearted monster, who put deals and business ahead of me and my mother and… in part that was right but… it was not the whole of the story.’ He adjusted his position slightly. ‘He did not fail because he could not adapt to modern business. He did not even fail because he ran out of money. I think he failed because ultimately he cared and he loved. Because he tried to juggle too many balls at once, keep everyone happy. And, in doing that, he made no one happy. And it ended up killing him.’
‘Pano…’ Imogen began.
‘My father twisted himself up so much trying to be somebody, that when it came down to it he ended up being a somebody nobody wanted.’ He took a breath. ‘When all we wanted him to be was the man we loved before everything else took over.’ He sighed. ‘A simple man who built a treehouse with his son.’
The urge to put her arms around him was so strong but she sensed to move now would be the wrong thing to do.
He looked deep into her eyes. ‘I know you have to go, Imogen,’ he whispered.
She nodded. ‘Yes… yes I do.’
‘And, although I want to commit to the community market plans… I still don’t know where my home lies.’
She smiled. ‘A little over a week ago I’d never even been to Greece before.’ She reached up, her palm finding the fine bristle on his jaw. ‘Now I somehow feel like I’m swimming in the middle of it.’
He put his hands over hers. ‘Is this a good or a bad thing?’
‘It’s a complicated thing.’ She sighed. ‘Before Halloumi, my family were all together in the UK. Now Harry’s here and my mum’s moving house and after tonight I don’t know how Janie is going to feel… It’s going to be a little bit different that’s all.’
Panos smoothed his free hand over her hair. ‘You told me earlier today that making a change is a good thing.’
‘I know I did.’
‘But different is not right for you?’
His words made her smile. ‘Different just takes a bit of getting used to.’
‘And me?’ he whispered. ‘Do you think you could get used to me?’ He held her face in his hands and his breath mixed with the humidity of the night, warm currents of air caressing her cheeks.
‘You said you’re not sure where your life lies,’ she answered, her tone delicate.
He shook his head then. ‘No.’ He padded his thumb against her bottom lip. ‘I said I am not sure where my home lies.’ He swallowed. ‘Wherever I am… I was hoping that you would be part of it.’
Imogen kept her eyes fixed on his and saw the depth of meaning seeping out from underneath those long, dusky lashes. He was truly exposing his soul to her now. He was ready to face his demons, confront his issues with relationships and he wanted to take those first steps with her.
‘What I feel for you, Imogen… I cannot begin to express,’ he started, his every syllable like a pounding heartbeat.
‘I know,’ she replied, placing her hands on his. ‘I know, Pano, because I feel it too.’
* * *
He saw her visibly shiver as she spoke and it sent a shockwave of lust rippling through him. He wanted her so much in every way – physically, sexually – but knowing his heart was alive and leading this made every pull of need double in intensity.
She was quaking now underneath his hands as he held her face, but he wasn’t going to rush. He wanted to savour every second of each moment. The expression in her eyes mirrored everything he was feeling and he held her gaze, looking, feeling, soaking it all up and letting the weight of their shared passion fill him.
Her breaths were coming thick and fast like his, and as she finally blinked, breaking the visual contact for a brief second, he couldn’t hold off any longer. He kissed her, his mouth claiming hers with such force she fell, taking him with her onto the blanket. He broke from her, his breathing out of control. ‘You are OK?’
She responded by reaching up, her hands in his hair, dragging him back down towards her, her mouth taking his this time and her fingers clawing at the buttons on his shirt. He ended the kiss, sitting up on his knees, astride her, removing his shirt, all the while holding her eyes with his. He threw the shirt to one side, leaning forward, palms flat on the wooden boards either side of the blanket she lay on, just looking at her looking up at him.
Reaching up, her index finger trailed over his skin and he closed his eyes, letting each tiny sensation spark its way into his consciousness. He shifted slightly as her fingers grazed his navel, slipping lower, centimetre by centimetre towards his waist. He opened his eyes, wanting to see her.
Under his gaze she slithered, as if he had cast a cold spell around her bare shoulders. He leane
d in, his mouth dropping to the skin around her collarbone, his tongue delivering hot, moist circles as he worked across the breadth of her chest.
‘Pano,’ she called into the dark.
His name on her lips had his arousal stinging hard and, as patience began to leave him, he pulled at the fabric of her black dress, wanting more and more inches of her exposed to him.
* * *
Panos pulled at her dress, rolling the material down her body and discarding it. Naked from the neck down, the only barrier between them was her panties and his trousers. Imogen watched him appraising her, his deep plum eyes languishing on her breasts until they tightened too much to bear, aching for his touch.
As his mouth descended on her once more she sent her fingers to the waistband of his trousers, squirming as he nipped at her breasts, shudders of longing weaving through her body. She unfastened the fly and pushed the fabric apart, inching it down over his hips until he had no choice but to assist. With one hand he wriggled free of his trousers and underwear until every part of him was bare to her. The sight of him took her breath and as he relieved her of the last scrap of cotton and lace she shivered in anticipation of what was to come.
‘Imogen,’ he spoke, his whole weight on his palms as his eyes roved over her. ‘My Imogen.’
It was a declaration of possession but one that didn’t hold any fear for her. She wanted to be his. She wanted him to be hers. More than she had ever wanted anyone to be part of her life before.
She reached up, both her hands on his muscular shoulders. ‘Be mine,’ she whispered.
He needed no other words. She could see he was ready, just like she was, to join together in something that had been creeping up on them both over the past week. What had started out as a brute chemistry had grown into something so much stronger, something that now couldn’t be halted even if they wanted to.
Bucking her hips towards him, she felt his full thickness surge inside her and she gasped, digging her fingernails into his back, aching, wanting more. She clung to him, pushing, pressing, needing to envelop herself around him until they reached that beautiful place together.
He rocked her, moving to her pace, each gliding motion reaching a part of her that craved this heat, this ultimate closeness. She pulled him nearer still, her breath in his ear, the hammering of his heart against her chest. Every movement was swamping her internal sensory board with delicious, sweet agony as she yearned for a divine release.
And then it was there. Building slowly, like someone had just ignited a sparkler, increasing in intensity, getting hotter, fizzing rapidly, ascending dramatically until she was no longer in control. Her body told her to let go while her head and her heart shouted to hold on, prolong this special moment, cling to him and every sentiment they were sharing.
‘Imogen,’ he said, his voice rich with desire.
‘Pano, I can’t stop…’
‘Do not stop,’ he ordered. ‘Let go.’
‘Not yet,’ she breathed.
‘With me,’ he whispered. ‘With me… theé mou!’
Suddenly she was lost, being swept away like a boat unhitched from harbour, caught up in a storm that was as exhilarating as it was dangerous, surging up onto a crest of a wave then plunging down into the depths of the ocean, wild, fast surf fizzing over every inch of skin. She cried out, dragging Panos in close, the vibrations of his body echoing hers.
He lifted his face to look at her, his hair dewy with perspiration, his eyes darker than ever, and she put her lips to his, wanting him to know how she was feeling. Breaking the kiss, he pushed her hair back from her face before cupping her cheek with his palm and locking their gaze.
‘I think, Imogen,’ he began. ‘I think that you might be my home.’
58
Halloumi, Acharavi Beachfront
‘Imogen Charlton! The walk of shame!’
Janie’s exclamation was almost loud enough for walkers to hear on Mount Pantokrator but, even though it was slightly embarrassing, Imogen couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She avoided her sister-in-law for a moment, regarding the sea view. Above, a few white fluffy clouds speckled the perfect blue sky and the water calmly lulled backwards and forwards, not a breath of wind to create a wave. Her skin attested that the temperature was already rocketing and the sun was busy warming the loungers on the beach ready for the first worshippers of the day.
The humming of the cicadas had woken her up an hour ago and when she’d opened her eyes sunlight had streamed through the large glassless window of the treehouse. She’d stretched out her body ensuring tension in every part of her torso and then had quickly realised she was alone. For a second she had wondered if Panos had had a change of heart. Last night had been so intense, the dancing, the heart-to-heart… the making love, perhaps when reality had dawned with the new day he had thought better of everything he’d said. But then his head had appeared through the round hole in the floorboards and he’d climbed through carrying travel cups of coffee brought down from Elpida’s home. They’d drunk the coffee first and then he’d ripped away the blanket she’d been covering herself with and made love to her again.
She stepped up onto the terrace. ‘Don’t let the children hear you say that,’ she said to Janie. ‘They will want a full and detailed explanation.’
‘Which is exactly what I want,’ Janie replied, pulling out a chair from under the terrace table she was sitting at.
‘I’m pretty sure Harry will be up to his eyes in last-minute things we need to get sorted before opening night,’ Imogen said, about to walk by.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ Janie stated. ‘Sit!’
Imogen stopped and, sensing no escape, she pulled up the offered chair and sank down into it, suddenly realising every limb she owned ached. She grimaced as her bottom refused to get comfortable on the seat. She set her handbag down on the floor, removing her phone and setting it on the table.
‘You’re stiff!’ Janie exclaimed. ‘What on Earth did you do last night?’
‘Slept on the floor of a treehouse,’ she answered.
‘Ooo, rustic! But something tells me you’re pushing the word “slept” to the very limits of believability.’
Imogen laughed. ‘Is that so?’
‘Imogen, the way you two were with each other last night. Well! It was like watching an episode of The Affair without any of the weird time-lapse bits… or the deeply annoying problem children… or the drugs… I think.’
‘Well, I could say the same about you… and Harry.’ Imogen raised an eyebrow and watched for Janie’s response.
A long, low sigh came from her sister-in-law’s body and she smiled. ‘You’ve got me there.’
‘So, I’ll share with you if you tell me what exactly is going on with you and my brother,’ Imogen offered, swiping a finger down the screen of her phone to refresh her inbox now she had 3G.
Janie leaned across the table, excitement in her eyes. ‘Deal. You first… Just how good does he look with no clothes on?’ She propped her head up with her hand.
‘You do realise you’re talking about someone I have feelings for and not a piece of meat?’
‘Ooo, “someone you have feelings for”.’
‘Stop it.’
‘I have to admit, I was getting concerned you were still pining over Daniel.’
Imogen shook her head. ‘I was never pining over Daniel.’
‘I didn’t really gel with him. He thought far too much of his Playstation in my opinion.’
‘Janie!’
‘I bet Panos doesn’t have a Playstation.’ She grinned. ‘I bet Panos knows much better ways of exercising his fingers.’
‘And presses all the right buttons,’ Imogen added with a raise of her eyebrows.
Janie shrieked with laughter and rocked back on her chair. ‘Stop it!’
‘You started it.’ She took a breath. ‘So… you and Harry?’
‘But you haven’t told me anything!’ Janie moaned.
A twinge in her lower
back brought back a delicious memory of holding onto a naked Panos as he turned her into a trembling wreck. She wasn’t about to give up details.
‘We like each other,’ Imogen stated. ‘We like each other a lot. That’s all I’m saying.’
Janie clapped her hands together in excitement. ‘You’ll have beautiful children. One blonde like you, one dark like him. Have you seen those eyelashes and those eyes? What am I saying?’ She paused as if for dramatic effect. ‘You spent the whole night contorted into different positions looking into them!’
‘And did you spend the night looking into my brother’s eyes?’ Imogen asked. ‘Because you know you danced to the dance of lovers.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Janie said, a sigh on her breath. ‘Elpida told me and her friend with the crazy hair.’
‘Well?’
‘We might have… shared a moment when the children finally came down from the sugar high and got to sleep.’
‘Oh, Janie!’ Imogen exclaimed happily. She tempered down her enthusiasm as she picked up on the other woman’s lack of buoyancy. Could Harry’s hopes be coming true?
‘It scared me a little bit,’ Janie admitted.
‘Scared you?’
‘Yes.’ Janie picked up her bottle of water from the table and took a swig from it. ‘I mean, we separated because things weren’t working out and… nothing’s changed.’
‘Oh, Janie, everything’s changed,’ Imogen stated.
‘Has it, though?’
‘Yes,’ Imogen insisted. ‘Look how Harry is here. I mean, I know we both thought what another fine mess he’s got himself into with this restaurant but… well… it’s becoming the making of him.’
Janie looked up, her eyes watery. ‘I still love him, Imogen. I never stopped loving him, but is that enough? I don’t want to say we should maybe try again if I’m not two hundred percent sure. I couldn’t do that to him or the children.’