Ah, if wishes could become reality. Under normal circumstances, she might have relaxed enough to fall asleep early. But such wasn’t the case. In fact this evening her senses seemed extra perceptory. She found herself listening to every sound, and locked on to the low purring noise of the car engine long before it pulled into the drive. Perseus was home.
Unfortunately her heart began its sickening pounding. Soon the blood echoed the same beat in her ears until she was a writhing mass of conflicting emotions. Part of her rejoiced he was back safely from Athens. The other part trembled for fear of getting too close to him. One of these days she was going to give herself away completely. Something had to be done to prevent that from happening...
Soon she heard men talking outside. Since the workmen had gone home for the night, the voices had to belong to Yanni and Perseus. Evidently he was making comments to the older man about the amount of work accomplished in the garden since morning. Sam had an idea he’d be pleased at the progress.
But in that assumption she was wrong. Totally wrong.
Moments after their voices had faded, she heard footsteps in the hall, and then the door to her room opened. Perseus had never come into her room without knocking first, but she imagined that Ariadne had told him Sam had been in bed for a while, so he’d decided to check up on her without making a disturbance. She thought of course he’d go away again.
To her consternation he came all the way in and shut the door, returning the room to its former near-darkness. The next thing she knew, he’d moved to the side of the bed. She felt the back of his hand against the part of her sunburned face not buried in the pillow.
He muttered something in low, unintelligible Greek, and suddenly the lights went on. Sam gasped and lifted her head, only to face the blazing anger of obsidian-black eyes.
“No wonder you’ve got a headache!” he thundered. “I warned you to wear a hat when you worked in the sun. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to expose your skin like that? I leave you alone for a day and look what has happened to you.” He sounded livid, but she heard the underlying concern. It wasn’t something he could feign.
She sat straight up in the bed. Because she’d lied about a headache, she’d upset him needlessly. If she’d known it was going to produce this reaction, she would never have turned down the invitation to join him in Athens.
“It’s only a minor sunburn, Perseus.” She tried to placate him in a cajoling tone. “I usually get it at the beginning of the summer. From then on, I tan.”
“To damnation with a tan. A woman’s skin should be one of her most prized possessions. You have the kind of dewy complexion most women would kill for.”
She blinked, having no idea he’d ever even noticed. Another memory to cherish.
“When we met, you weren’t wearing makeup. Obviously you don’t need it. Because you’re so blessed, it would be criminal to abuse your skin. Whatever you’ve done in the past, while you’re married to me you’ll take care of yourself, even if it means you don’t work in the yard anymore.”
By now she was clutching the lapels of her white silk, sleeveless pajama top to her neck. Not out of fear—Not for any other reason than because no one had ever worried about her welfare before, not even her mother who’d loved her desperately. For Perseus to pamper her like this was an unaccustomed luxury.
She hated it when he was unhappy, especially if she was the cause of it. Heavens, he’d been so wonderful to her!
“I admit it was foolhardy to stay out in the sun so long without protection. I promise to wear the hat from now on.”
He studied the earnest expression on her upturned face for several seconds, testing the veracity of her words. “Ariadne tells me you went to bed without any dinner. You at least need to drink something so you won’t get dehydrated.”
She nodded. “You’re right.” If the truth be known, she was ravenous.
“Are you up to a crushed ice fruit drink?”
“Actually, that sounds exactly like what the doctor ordered. It will probably help my headache.”
His eyes narrowed on her mouth, reducing her to a quivering lump of desire held barely in check. “Let’s hope so. I’ll be right back.”
To her relief his initial black mood had lightened a little. It was up to her to get them back on a normal footing. Giving him something to do for her helped the process along.
In no time at all he’d returned, an iced peach drink in his hand. She had an idea he’d whipped it up himself, and loved him all the more for it.
“Thank you,” she whispered when he handed it to her. She took care that their fingers didn’t brush against each other. When his mouth thinned ominously, she didn’t know if she’d offended him again or not.
“Drink every drop. You need the liquid.” He was gone before she could wish him good-night.
Wide-awake, she sank back against the cushions and sipped her drink. Not one word had been mentioned about the yard, or his day at work. She wondered if he’d found it refreshing or hectic to be back at his office. Tonight there’d be no dip in the sea with him so she could find out, she lamented mournfully.
When she’d drained the delicious contents, she got out of bed and padded over to the shutters to open them. The tile felt cool beneath her bare feet. For a moment she stood looking at the view of the water where she’d spent some of the happiest hours of her life with Perseus, then she went over by the connecting door to flick off the light switch.
Just as the room darkened, the door opened. “Perseus—” she gasped softly when he suddenly appeared in the aperture, dressed in a belted, dark brown robe. She’d seen his chest bare when they’d gone swimming. But the sight of him dressed as he was somehow made everything more intimate. The dark, attractive, virile picture he made stole her breath.
“I was just about to shut off the light for you. How’s the headache?”
She couldn’t concentrate this close to him, let alone answer. His compelling masculinity was too overpowering for that. The darkness seemed to exaggerate the raw tension between them. Her only thought was to hide. Slowly she backed away and slid beneath the covers of her bed.
“Apparently it’s worse than I thought,” came the grim comment. “Turn on your side and I’ll massage your neck for a few minutes. Sometimes it helps me when I’m in pain.”
“It’s all right, Perseus. I—I don’t—”
“I’ll decide what you require, and what you don’t.”
The hint of authority in his tone kept her silent. She should have fought him harder, but he’d already lowered himself on top of the covers behind her. When he moved a swathe of long, golden hair away from her neck, she felt electrified.
At the first magic touch of his fingers, the sensation was so heavenly, she thought she’d die right there. If she was feeling any pain, it was a surfeit of ecstasy.
For a while she felt his hand caress her neck up into her hair, then he slid it down to her shoulder, half covered by her top. He knew exactly where to apply pressure, where to rotate his fingers for maximum pleasure.
“Oh, that feels divine.” She couldn’t prevent the little moan that escaped.
“It’s supposed to.”
A huge lump lodged in her throat. “Between the drink you made me, and the rubdown, my headache has gone. You’re too good to me, Perseus. There’s no way I can repay you.”
His hand stilled on her neck. “I don’t want repayment, Samantha,” came the husky rejoinder. “That implies owing something for services rendered. What I want has to be given freely, or not at all.”
He was thinking of Sofia, of course. At the end of her mourning period, she’d be free to love him the way he needed to be loved. More than anything in life Sam wished she were the woman Perseus wanted. But that wasn’t meant to be. None too soon his comment had brought her back to stark reality.
“I—I’m feeling so much better, why don’t you turn on your other side and I’ll try to relieve some of your tension. I would imagine your fi
rst day back at work wasn’t all joy.”
“How perceptive of you,” he drawled in amusement before responding to her suggestion. She thought of course he’d be off the bed by now, wishing her good-night. Instead he had stretched out beside her like a great jungle cat. Most likely he was the one with the headache, but he’d never let on. This brought out her compassionate instincts and she rolled toward his back, wanting to soothe him for a change.
“Is your Athens office as spotless as the one in New York? Do you have another Mrs. Athas who takes care of your billion-dollar clutter?”
“It is, and I do,” he muttered in a deep, gravelly voice, already sounding drugged as she massaged his neck the same way he’d massaged hers. His muscles were taut. He needed relief. “Perseus—lie flat on your stomach and I’ll give you a back massage. When mother became ill, I used to give her one every night.”
“What about your headache?”
“I told you. It’s gone. Let this be my gift to you. It’s free, and I want to do it.”
“Then I accept.” The low chuckle that rumbled out of him warmed her heart. He turned his magnificent body so he was hugging the bed, but his face was turned away from her.
He would receive more benefit if she asked him to remove his robe, but he hadn’t taken it off, and she didn’t dare suggest it, so it stayed.
“You’re right,” he said in a slurred voice after a few minutes. “What you’re doing is divine. Don’t ever stop.”
“I won’t,” came her fervent reply. This was the closest she would ever come to worshiping his body. She would do it all night if he’d allow it.
As it turned out, within twenty minutes he was making the sounds of a person in a deep sleep. The poor darling was exhausted, physically and emotionally.
She started to ease herself off the bed when a strong hand snaked out to grasp her arm, preventing movement.
“Don’t leave me,” he muttered. “I don’t want to be alone tonight, Kyria.” Before she knew how it happened, the top half of his body had covered hers. “Show me once more you don’t mind my scar,” he begged in a husky voice.
Though she’d promised herself never to let this happen again, Sam had no defense against such importuning and gave up her mouth to him. If for these few minutes he was pretending that Sam was Sofia, it didn’t seem to matter. The hunger of his passion broke down every feeble barrier she’d tried to erect, and she was lost.
“Perseus—” she cried out helplessly as their kisses became more frenzied and feverish.
Calling out his name must have made him realize he’d been making love to the wrong woman. Before she could countenance it, he’d torn his lips from her creamy shoulder, and had levered himself from the bed, his breathing tortured.
“You’ve surpassed yourself in the acting department. Have no fear that I’ll never ask you to prove yourself on that point again.” In the next breath, he’d disappeared.
Like a wounded animal, she lay back down, unable to move. Immediately the faint scent of the soap he used assailed her senses. It was on the sheets, the pillowcase. The next best thing to being in Perseus’s arms was to lie here and dream of him until morning. Such a little sin, one she prayed God would forgive.
When she awakened the next morning, the clock on the bedside table said ten-fifteen, and the room was filled with light. At that point, recollections of what had happened last night flooded her system.
She threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, anxious to see if Perseus was still asleep in his bed. But when she poked her head around the door, all she saw was his unmade bed with the blanket tossed aside. Perseus had gone without disturbing her.
Was he outside working?
She quickly dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. Donning her sandals, she hurried out of the house and ran around the villa hoping to catch sight of him.
The workers paused in their job of preparing the flower beds for planting and waved to her. She reciprocated, but her frustration grew because Perseus was nowhere in sight.
Retracing her steps, she almost collided with Ariadne who’d just stepped into the foyer.
By now she was out of breath. “Have you seen Perseus?”
“Yes. He was up early and left for Athens. He asked that you call him the moment you awakened.”
She’d never had a reason to call him in Athens. “Do you have his number?”
“Yes, Kyria Kostopoulos. Come to the study with me.”
Sam followed her into the clearly masculine room where Perseus conducted business when he couldn’t be at his office. There was a large mahogany desk, bookcases filled with a plethora of various titles, a fax machine, copier, computer and printer. Everything he needed at his fingertips.
“I’ve written it down for you.”
“Thank you, Ariadne,” she said as the other woman left the room. Once she was alone, she picked up the receiver to punch in the numbers. When the secretary on the other end answered, Sam’s ears met with a spate of rapid Greek.
Sam asked if the woman spoke English, and instantly his secretary reverted to perfect English. Sam couldn’t help but be impressed and promised herself that one day her Greek would be as good as that woman’s English. So far she’d been trying to say as many things in Greek as she could, but it was slow work.
“Kyria Kostopoulos—your husband said you would be calling. Please hold the line and I’ll put you through to him.”
“Thank you.”
No matter how many times people referred to him as her husband, she would never get used to it because he wasn’t her husband. Otherwise they would have spent last night in the same bed, and all the rest of their nights, forever!
“Samantha? You’re up.” He sounded vital, like he felt good. Apparently with a sound sleep, his little lapse last night had been completely forgotten, destroying her secret hope that he’d been as affected by their passionate interlude as she had.
“W-why didn’t you waken me?” Her question came out sounding smothered.
“Because this morning the foreman told me you’ve been working harder than his own crew. That’s probably the reason you were ill yesterday. He says you deserve a rest, and I happen to agree with him. How are you feeling? Is your headache gone?”
“Y-yes. I feel fine.” He had her tongue-tied.
“I’m glad to hear it since I’m going to reissue my invitation to take you dining and dancing in Athens tonight. I want you to spend the rest of the day making yourself beautiful. I’ll send the helicopter for you at seven. Yanni already has his instructions to drive you to Livadi.”
Though terrified by the invitation because every moment spent in his company increased the depth of her feelings for him, she couldn’t refuse him a second time.
“I’ll be ready.”
“We won’t be coming back until tomorrow night, so pack an overnight bag.”
Excitement passed through her body. “Where will we be staying?”
“Let that be my surprise. Until tonight.” He murmured a word she didn’t understand before he hung up.
Sam shouldn’t have been so eager. This was wrong. But to defy him at this point would be an outright betrayal of him and everything she stood for. Somehow she had to start viewing him as a dearly beloved brother, or she wouldn’t get through the next eleven months. But she didn’t have the faintest idea how to go about doing that.
The clock on the wall said it was only ten-thirty in the morning. Since she had an idea Perseus wouldn’t like it if she overdid it in the yard today, she refused to risk his displeasure a second time.
Instead, she’d take the sedan parked in the garage and drive to Hora, the fairy-tale town Perseus had told her about with its Venetian castle. He’d assured her that the car was there for her use. It would be good to get out of the house, away from everything that reminded her of him.
She could have lunch at a taverna before driving on to Galani. Apparently there was a fortresslike monastery near the village which housed some exquisite wall pa
intings and important illuminated manuscripts. She’d love to see those.
Then before returning to the villa, she’d have time to drive into Livadi to do a few errands and inspect the local pottery. Just two days before, Perseus had reminded her that as soon as the yard was done, he would introduce her to the manager of the local textile plant. Whenever she said the word, she could be put to work plying the craft she loved best.
It didn’t seem possible that in the near future, her own designs would be marketed to an ever-increasing tourist trade. That day couldn’t come soon enough for Sam.
With Perseus flying between New York and Athens, and her attempting to fill every waking hour at the plant with work, they wouldn’t be able to spend nearly as much time together. The less, the better! Maybe under those conditions she could last until Sofia’s mourning period was over.
Feeling somewhat reassured, Sam got ready for her outing. Aware that as long as she was Perseus’s wife, she would always be a target for photographers, she put on a sensible pair of white cotton pants any tourist might wear, and toned them with a sage-green cotton top.
To keep the hair out of her face, she pulled it back in a French twist. Once she’d donned sunglasses and favorite walking shoes, she informed Ariadne she was leaving.
As a concession to Perseus, she took along the straw hat he’d bought for her to wear in the garden. It would come in handy when the sun reached its zenith, and disguise her hair.
Knowing Perseus as she did, she left her itinerary with the housekeeper, in case he called for some unexpected reason and demanded to know where she’d gone.
Sam was starting to learn a few of his ways. Because of his need to protect the people he cared about, he came across as angry when he thought something was threatening their welfare. The longer she lived with him, the more she was aware of this pattern developing. She had no desire to see Ariadne get into trouble because of negligence on the part of her employer’s wife.
Bride by Day Page 12