Strange Adventure

by Craven, Sara

  `What's the matter, Lacey?' Evan asked eventually. They were lying on one of the few sandy beaches Theros boasted, reached by a steep path from the villa grounds, and they were temporarily alone, Helen having decided to go for another swim.

  'Nothing.' She picked up a handful of sand and let it drift through her fingers.

  `Now you've made the conventional reply, how about telling me the truth?' he suggested. He put out a hand and

  touched her ankle. His fingers were warm and they sent a disturbing current through Lacey, who sat up, pushing her pale hair impatiently off her face.

  'Oh, it's too stupid for words,' she said at last. 'Troy's aunt thinks—at least she says—she doesn't think I ought ...' she faltered to a halt.

  'I get it. The lady thinks the chaperone needs a chaperone.' He picked up a pebble and shied it moodily in the general direction of the sea. 'Could be she's right, Lacey.'

  She glanced at him startled. 'Oh, Evan, no!'

  'Oh, Lacey, yes,' he mimicked. 'Just because you're Andreakis' property it doesn't mean other men won't want to look—especially when the owner himself doesn't seem particularly interested.'

  'You have no right to say that!' Her face flamed.

  'I'm giving myself that right.' He reached out, gripping her shoulders. 'You're a beautiful girl, Lacey, and you deserve to be treated like one—not like some block of shares in a corporation to be filed away until needed. What kind of marriage have you got, for heaven's sake?'

  'Please let me go,' she said unhappily. 'Troy and I have—an understanding.'

  'I hope it keeps you warm at nights. Does it, Lacey?' He tried to look into her eyes, but she kept them fixed on the ground. 'You don't need an understanding, Lacey. You need to live and to love the way you were meant to.' He began to caress her shoulders and arms with light stroking movements. let me show you, Lacey, sweet baby.'

  His face was only inches from hers when she twisted out of his arms and stood up.

  'I'm sorry, Evan. I never intended to let you think I was available.'

  'I don't think that,' he said violently, staring up at her. 'But I think you're lonely.'

  'If I am, it's something I have to work out for myself.' She crossed her arms across her breasts and stared out over the shimmering expanse of hazy sea. just for a moment, she had been tempted. It would have been so easy to let Evan press her back into the sand, but it was not just the thought that Helen might return and find them that had

  stopped her. Nothing had changed after all. If she let Evan make love to her she would simply be exchanging loneliness for guilt, and that would be madness when she did not really want him. Her only motive for giving herself to him would be to revenge herself on Troy, and that was an ignoble reason for doing anything and would just bring her down to Troy's level, she thought bitterly.

  `I can't figure you, Lacey.' Evan's voice was almost reflective. 'The guy dumps you here. He doesn't write, he doesn't phone—Helen didn't realise she was giving away any state secrets,' he added hastily, intercepting her look of indignant surprise. 'And yet you sit here with your hands folded, waiting for him to come back to you. Well, you're on the wrong island, baby. The faithful Penelope waited on Ithaca.'

  'The geography isn't important,' she said gravely.

  'No.' He looked at her resignedly. `I guess if you love the guy, you love him, and there's nothing anyone can do about that except wait for you to get over it.'

  `You talk about love as if it was some infectious disease,' Lacey said calmly, while her mind ran riot. What was she doing talking about it at all in connection with Troy and herself? She didn't love him. Love was good and simple and included things like knowledge and respect—everything she didn't share with Troy. What she felt for him was too complex and too contradictory to bear the sweet name of love—wasn't it?

  `If it is, marriage is generally regarded as the cure. You must have a bad case,' he said wryly. He stood up, his lips compressed. He looked suddenly older and harder. 'Of all the guys in the world, and it has to be him.' He sighed. 'I suppose that's the way it goes.'

  Before Lacey could prevent him, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard on the mouth. When he let her go, she wanted to wipe her hand across her lips, but she knew it would be hurtful, so she stood motionless, her hands balled into fists at her side.

  `I think you'd better go, Evan,' she said.

  'Maybe you're right.' He stood for a moment regarding her, his hands on his hips. 'Suddenly the lady turns into Mrs

  Andreakis. It's quite a transformation, baby.' He smiled and he was the old Evan again. 'Don't let's part bad friends, Lacey. I'm going over to Corfu for a couple of days. When I get back, I'll be in touch.'

  She wanted to tell him that was not a good idea, but he had gathered up his things and was scrambling up the steep path towards the cliff top before she could collect her scattered thoughts. Lacey was not sorry to see him go, but sorry for the circumstances which had made it necessary that he should. Aunt Sofia had been wiser than she gave her credit for, she thought ironically.

  She sank down on the sand again, leaning back against a sun-warmed rock while her mind tried to deal coherently with the new and unwelcome thoughts about her relationship with Troy that Evan had put there. In spite of everything that had happened was she—could she be in love with this stranger who had married her? If she had really hated him, might she not have welcomed the knowledge of his intimacy with another woman because it would inevitably mean she would see less of him? In fact, the discovery of his relationship with Michelle had been a nightmare of agony and hurt which the passing days only served to deepen.

  She shivered and looked up startled as Helen's shadow fell across her.

  `Hi.' Helen reached for a towel, glancing round. `Where'd Evan go?'

  Lacey sighed. `He's gone to pack, I think. He said something about going to Corfu for a while.'

  `Already?' Helen's reaction was sharp and Lacey looked at her in some surprise. The younger girl looked thoroughly upset, and Lacey felt a twinge of alarm. Had her initial forebodings been correct? Helen had dismissed Evan as the brother of a friend, but this might simply have been a ploy to reassure Lacey. He was very attractive, as she had been made only too aware. Had Helen also succumbed to this attraction? Certainly the unguarded expression in her eyes suggested that his departure came very close to being the end of the world. She groaned inwardly. She had been spec-

  tacularly unsuccessful as a chaperone on two counts, it seemed.

  'Oh well, that's that, I guess,' Helen said, and she gave a short laugh. 'Maybe we'd better get back before Aunt Sofia thinks we've drowned.'

  Her manner was odd as they walked slowly back to the villa in the sun, and Lacey decided regretfully that the old Helen, moody and resentful, seemed to have returned because of Evan's defection. Her returns to any conversational ploys Lacey began were monosyllabic, and eventually Lacey too fell silent. The day was suddenly shadowed, she thought and with mounting irritation, 'Damn Evan. He's spoiled everything.'

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HELEN seemed to have recovered her spirits the next day and was back to her old buoyant self, on the surface at least. If she was missing Evan, she was hiding it remarkably well, Lacey thought. She herself had spent a restless night and had fought a headache most of the morning. It was pleasant to lie on the terrace after a light lunch, and her heart sank a little when she heard Helen suggest a swim.

  `You go,' she urged, staring up through the leaves and petals of the climbing rose that festooned the trellis above her.

  `It's no fun alone,' Helen protested. 'And you know Aunt Sofia throws a blue fit every time I go to the beach on my own. She thinks I'm going to be eaten by a giant squid or washed away by a tidal wave or something.'

  Lacey smiled unwillingly. `But our little beach is perfectly safe,' she argued. 'There isn't even a current to make it dangerous,' then as she saw the only too familiar mutinous pout begin to appear on Helen's face, she hastil
y capitulated. 'O.K., I'll come, but I don't promise I'll come in the sea.'

  `Oh, you will when you get there,' Helen promised. `You won't be able to resist it.'

  Certainly the little beach was at its inviting best, Lacey had to admit as she climbed over the tumbled rocks at the base of the cliff and jumped down on to the stretch of sand. The air was still and seemed to hold a faint scent of lemons, and the sea whispered and lapped at the sand.

  She turned to Helen. 'I wish I'd brought my swimsuit after all.'

  `Well, don't let that stop you,' Helen said calmly, pulling off her tee-shirt and unzipping her jeans. She caught Lacey's glance and grinned. 'I told you I liked swimming in the raw. I wasn't kidding. How about you, Big Sister? Ever tried it?'

  `Er—no.' Lacey tried unsuccessfully to conceal her faint

  embarrassment and felt a complete fool.

  `Well, now's your chance,' Helen said mockingly. 'Hell, Lacey, who's going to see you? This beach is private, after all, and Aunt Sofia isn't likely to come down. Besides, when Troy shows up, you can surprise him with your all-over tan. Don't tell me he wouldn't like that.'

  Lacey's cheeks grew warmer still. She looked uncertainly from the cliffs behind them to the dark blue expanse of the little bay.

  'Oh, for heaven's sake!' Helen slipped out of her briefs and ran slim and long-legged to the water's edge. 'Come on in,' she called over her shoulder. 'The water's fine.'

  Lacey hesitated, then told herself she was being ridiculous. She was reluctant to jeopardise any success she might have had in building a relationship with Helen by suddenly turning into a wet blanket over an innocent diversion like swimming without clothes. With sudden determination, she reached for the zip of her sundress and within moments had joined Helen in the sea, revelling in the sudden coolness of the water against the warmth of her flesh.

  `Isn't it a great feeling?' Helen called, and Lacey was forced to agree. All her anxieties, even the slight headache seemed to fall away with her clothes, and she felt completely free. They spent nearly half an hour swimming, diving and floating and playing noisy splashing games in the shallows. It was like the best days of childhood, Lacey thought, but with all the feelings intensified. She was breathless by the time they got back to their clothes. Helen shook the surplus water off her body like a puppy and spread out her towel, obviously intending to sunbathe. Her eyes widened when she saw Lacey reaching for her sundress again.

  'Boy, you sure have a hang-up about wearing clothes,' she commented. 'Are you afraid the sun's going to be shocked and go behind a cloud or something?'

  Lacey sighed. 'Something like that,' she admitted with a faint smile. 'Blame my convent upbringing.'

  'Well, I just don't know what you're afraid of,' Helen argued. 'If a boat comes round the headland we'd have time to get into evening gowns before they spotted us.' She

  wriggled her shoulders luxuriously. 'Doesn't the sun feel good?'

  'Yes, it does,' Lacey yielded, stretching herself out on the sand.

  'Don't go to sleep,' Helen warned. 'Troy won't thank you if you welcome him back with a bad case of sunburn.'

  Lacey moved restlessly, brushing a hovering insect away from her face. She did not wish to be reminded of the scene that would have to be faced when her husband did arrive on Theros. It was bitter to reflect how different her attitude might have been to his return if she had not found that cuff link. She turned on her side, pushing her hair back from her face, and paused, her attention suddenly arrested.

  `What was that?' she queried sharply.

  'What was what?' Helen demanded drowsily.

  Lacey sat up, reaching for her dress. 'I saw something on the cliff top over there—like a light flashing.' She shaded her eyes with her hand and stared up at the cliff. But it seemed deserted. There wasn't a sound or a flicker of movement to be seen and Lacey began to wonder if she had imagined that brief glimmer of light as if the sun had caught a polished surface and flung its brilliance back momentarily.

  'Oh, relax,' Helen said irritably. 'That must be nearly a quarter of a mile away. If there was anyone there, what could they see?'

  `I prefer not to think,' Lacey said tartly, wriggling back into her clothes. 'I think I'll go back now. Enough is enough, and I'm sure there was someone up there, even if there isn't now.'

  'Then I may as well come too.' Shrugging, Helen reached for her own things. 'Boy, are you jumpy!' Her face was flushed and she looked moody again as they trudged back up the path to the villa. Lacey felt a pang of self-reproach.

  'I'm sorry, Helen.' She touched her sister-in-law's arm gently. 'I suppose I spoiled your afternoon. I don't mean to be a killjoy. We'll go again—tomorrow, perhaps ...'

  'Oh, forget it. I should have remembered you were little `Miss Perfect,' Helen said abruptly, and Lacey felt snubbed. They walked in silence, a silence eventually dispelled by a

  .

  distant hum growing louder and more vibrant by the second.

  Lacey glanced up into the sky. 'That sounds like a helicopter.'

  'Bright girl!' Helen sounded sarcastic. 'And now for the sixty-four-thousand-dollar prize, can you tell me who'll be in it?' She saw Lacey's lips part incredulously on the name and nodded. 'Right again. I'll say this for Big Brother Troy, he has a great sense of timing.'

  There was an odd note in her voice, but Lacey disregarded it, too absorbed in the turmoil of emotion that had suddenly gripped her to pay any heed to Helen's reactions.

  Her legs felt weak and her stomach churned agonisingly. All her sense of well-being and contentment had gone. If there had been anywhere to run to, any place of refuge that would have accepted her, she would have gone. But this was his island, too small and too familiar to shelter her against him. Anger began to build up inside her. It was typical that he should do this—literally descend on them out of the blue without a word of warning, so totally arrogant, so certain of his welcome.

  She realised that her footsteps had slowed perceptibly, and that Helen was watching her in obvious surprise. She forced a smile, pressing one hand against her side

  'I—I've got a bit of a stitch. I think I must have come up the path Coo fast. You go on ahead.'

  'Well—O.K.,' Helen said dubiously. 'But I wouldn't hang around. Troy doesn't like to be kept waiting. Be seeing you.' And she broke into a run, disappearing between the tall hedges of flowering aloe.

  Lacey stood quite still, trying to subdue her racing pulses into tranquillity. She had no idea what she was going to say to Troy when they finally came face to face and she was dreading the actual moment of confrontation. Ever since their first meeting, she had been either trying to elude him or get the better of him, and she had succeeded in neither. It was all very well to rehearse dignified scenes in one's mind which would bring down the curtain on this farce of a marriage almost before it had begun, but she knew if she was honest she had always discounted one important factor

  in these imaginary debates—the overwhelming physical attraction he had for her. It was simple enough to deny it in his absence, but now that he was here, she knew it would be hard to fight and impossible to ignore.

  In her constant heart-searchings over the past days, one thing had been brought home to her more and more forcibly —that her prime emotion about the situation had been jealousy. She might tell herself she was outraged by his duplicity, by his betrayal not only of herself but of her father, but in reality it was the mental image of Michelle lying in his arms as she had once lain, sharing the intimacies of lovemaking, the kisses and, caresses that had awoken Lacey to what fulfilment could mean, that tortured her.

  And she knew without further doubt that her real feelings for Troy went much deeper than mere physical attraction alone.

  She walked through the grounds towards the villa, her heart like ice within her. The trim scarlet and black helicopter, its whirring blades motionless, stood on the wide lawn in front of the terrace like some strange mechanical bird. She walked up the terrace steps and entered the house by
the saloni. To her surprise Stephanos Lindos, was sitting on one of the low cushioned seats reading a newspaper. He threw it aside when he saw Lacey and rose.

  'My dear Mrs Andreakis! You look most well. The air on Theros must agree with you.'

  Lacey decided drily that he was simply being gallant. She might have gained a little superficial weight, but there were shadows denoting restless nights under her eyes. The sun might have taken the pallor of an English winter from her skin, but it could not hide the look of strain which had come to inhabit her face.

  'Kalostone, kyrie. Welcome,' she tried diffidently, and he smiled at her delightedly. '

  `Such progress in such a short time,' he approved. 'But I promise I will not outstay your charming welcome. I remain here for this evening only, and then you will have privacy to continue with your honeymoon.'

  'Er—where is everyone?' She looked around, trying to

  appear casual, but he was not deceived.

  `Troy has gone up to shower,' he said. 'He has had nearly forty-eight hours travelling and business meetings. The last was in Athens this morning, but he would not rest. He was determined not to delay your reunion for a moment longer than necessary.'

  Lacey had been considering waiting in the saloni so that her first meeting with Troy would be in the presence of a third party, but she knew with a feeling of resignation that it was impossible. Stephanos was so obviously expecting her to join Troy upstairs in the privacy of their suite, and she supposed this was why Aunt Sofia and Helen were also keeping out of the way—to spare the bride's blushes as she raced to meet her groom, she thought ironically.

  It took all the courage she possessed to get her across the hall and up the short flight of gracefully curving stairs to the first floor. She paused at the door of the suite, mentally bracing herself, then she twisted the handle of the door and went in. The bedroom itself was empty, but the bathroom door stood slightly ajar and she could hear the splash of water from inside.