by Anne Hampson
'Not at the moment, Andonys, but I think we might be having a guest for lunch—'
'Oh, no,' broke in Jill hurriedly. 'I want to leave on the first boat—' She stopped suddenly. 'I don't even know where I am!' she exclaimed.
'You're on the island of Corina. You'll have an idea of its location when I tell you its southern shores run parallel to the shores of the Argolid.'
She nodded but made no comment. The manservant went out, closing the door quietly be-hind him, and Adam busied himself with the coffee. He handed her a cup, and held out the sugar for her to help herself.
'It's a pity that Susie became scared and ran off like that,' he said frowningly. 'But I found her extremely young and immature. Flighty, too—and obviously unreliable.' Jill ignored that. 'I really must be leaving, Mr. Doxaros. What time is the ferry?'
He made no answer; she watched with frowning perplexity as he moved away from her and stood by the window. The sunlight streamed past him, filtered by the leaves of a jacaranda tree which was in full bloom, its beautiful blue flowers appearing to be a delicate veil moving gently in the breeze. Shadows were cast onto the dark face, and although this seemed to accentuate the severity of the man's features, Jill still found them inordinately handsome. There was something about him that attracted her in a strange unfathomable way which was as disturbing as it was exciting. Yes, she was ready to admit to herself that the man excited her—by his personality, by his looks, by his superiority and the dominance of his manner. She found to her amazement that she had already forgiven him for the action that had, initially, put such terror into her.
At last he turned and looked directly at her. 'Will you take your sister's place, Miss Harris?'
'Me!' She stared at him incredulously. 'Are you serious?'
'As I have said, I need someone—anyone—to marry. I have never taken Susie to see Mother, but I have told my mother that I've met an English girl whom I am seriously thinking of asking to marry me. So naturally Mother's become excited by the prospect of having a daughter-in-law at last.' He shook his head and glanced again at Jill. 'I can't now tell her that it is all off —I won't tell her!'
Jill spread her hands. 'You'll have to, Mr. Doxaros, since I'm not going to take Susie's place. No, I wouldn't even consider such a stupid act! You must think me a lunatic!'
'You haven't even given the matter a thought, Miss Harris.'
'And I don't intend to!'
'The reward would be very great. I promised Susie a large settlement—'
'Well, you can keep your settlement,' interrupted Jill. 'It so happens that I'm not all that interested in money!'
'My mother... will you not consent to a meeting with her? She's a dear and gracious lady who is sad and brooding because none of her sons is married. You would like my mother, Miss Harris.'
'I won't argue the point, but her well-being has nothing to do with me. Why, the whole idea of marrying you is so preposterous that I'm not willing to continue discussing it!' Jill drained her coffee cup and replaced it on the saucer with a little bang. She was trembling, her heart fluttering in the strangest way, and her mind sending out warning lights, advising her to make as hasty a departure from here as possible. 'It would be a temporary marriage,' Adam told her perseveringly. 'I'd ask nothing from you, naturally. I have my friends—'
'And that's another thing,' she interrupted, vaguely aware that she was on the defensive, which was stupid, since there was not the remotest possibility of Adam's being able to persuade her to marry him. 'You openly admit to having pillow friends—'
'Where did you hear that expression,' he demanded, as if hearing it from her lips angered him.
'Does it matter?' she returned heatedly. 'You admit to having these women, and to having a fiancee too. Doesn't she mind that you're unfaithful to her?' asked Jill, for the moment diverted.
'My dear Miss Harris,' said Adam in some amusement, 'all Greek men are unfaithful. No, she doesn't mind at all. It's purely a business arrangement, her father and I wishing to combine the two shipping lines, his and mine. There never was any question of love between Julia and me. She'll have her lovers eventually, when we are married, so why should she object to my having mine?'
Jill shook her head bewilderdly. 'It's incredible! Is a Greek never jealous? Does he never resent his wife receiving the attentions of other men?'
He laughed, appearing to be greatly amused by her indignation. 'There has to be love for there to be jealousy, Miss Harris, and Greek men never fall in love.'
'I don't believe that they never fall in love!'
'Very well,' he conceded, 'they rarely fall in love.'
'Couldn't you ever be jealous, Mr. Doxaros?' She could not have explained why she put the question, but she was profoundly interested in his reply to it.
His eyes glinted suddenly and he looked so fiendish that an involuntary shiver passed along Jill's spine.
'If, by the remotest possibility, I should find myself in love with a woman, then, yes, I'd be jealous—so much so that I'd make her pay beyond her wildest dreams if she allowed another man to pay her more than the superficial requirements of courtesy and respect.'
Jill drew a breath, her mind bringing unwanted visions of Adam, her husband, turning dark, angry eyes toward her as he slowly crossed the room.
Good heavens, where were her thoughts taking her?
'The ferry,' she began, looking at her watch. 'I expect there is one?'
'You won't see my mother?'
'No, definitely not! The suggestion that I marry you is ridiculous—I've already told you so!'
'It's your last word?' He mentioned a sum of money which he was prepared to give her when they were divorced. 'You won't consider it, and the advantage to yourself?' She shook her head vigorously. 'It's my last word, Mr. Doxaros! I wouldn't dream of marrying you!'
Jill sat in the garden, reading a book. The sun was becoming too hot, but her tan was progressing so beautifully that she was determined to remain out on the lawn a little while longer. She put the book down on the grass and allowed her mind to wander. Even now, a month later, she was staggered by her action in marrying Adam. There had been no sign of wavering until she met Mrs. Doxaros. Adam had brought the old lady to Jill's villa, and from the moment of meeting her, Jill had felt herself to be trapped.
It had been a clever move on Adam's part, because when he introduced his mother to her he had sent a pleading look in Jill's direction, asking her not to say anything that would upset the older woman. Jill knew she would remember that meeting for the rest of her life. Mrs. Doxaros had been less frail than Jill expected, but that she was in poor health was apparent from the difficulty she had with her breathing. From the first moment the old lady had acted as though Jill were to be her daughter-in-law and, being so softhearted, Jill had found it quite impossible to disillusion her. There was no need at the moment, Jill told herself, but later she would give Adam Doxaros a piece of her mind and tell him to get out of the mess as best he could. But after a while Jill found herself drawn irresistibly to the old lady, and the attraction was obviously mutual. Adam had come to Jill's home later, and although she had fought against his persuasions at first, the sweet, lined face of his mother persistently intruded and in the end Jill owned to being utterly defeated.
And after that she was able to review the situation without the strong emotions that had been with her at first. The marriage—as Adam had from the first asserted-was going to benefit everyone concerned. Mrs. Doxaros was going to be happy, so happy that Jill could not but feel happy herself at having the chance of bringing contentment to a lady she had been so strongly attracted to almost immediately. Second, Jill herself was to benefit, financially, beyond her wildest dreams. The sum Adam had promised would make her rich, and meanwhile, she would enjoy the luxury of his home on Corina, and perhaps his flat in Athens, and she would have a monthly allowance far in excess of her needs. She could have her own friends-male and female-so long as none of her actions interfered with his mother's
happiness. All these Adam had promised. Yes, decided Jill, it was all good, this arrangement. There were no complications that she could see, no probable circumstances that would bring friction between her husband and herself.
He was to go his way and she hers. He would take his fiancee out when he was in Athens, or for a trip on his yacht now and then-leaving his wife at home, of course. He would have his pillow friends, his other friends. Jill did not rule out the possibility of meeting a young man-there were lots of Englishmen working in Athens-and falling in love. She would have to explain the position to him, and ask him to wait until she gained her freedom. Meanwhile, they could be friends and go about together. Adam would not mind, in fact, he would probably be glad that she had found someone, some very special friend whom she would marry later, when she and her husband were divorced.
And so it was with a happy mind, totally free from qualms, that Jill had agreed to marry Adam. They had the ceremony in Athens, Adam bringing his mother over in the yacht from Corina. She lived in a small villa two miles from Adam's house, and was looked after by two servants, Sophia and her husband, Drakos, both of whom adored her. The wedding breakfast was attended by several of Adam's friends, one or two of whom teased Jill, asking her how she managed to breach his defences and end his bachelorhood. She had smiled and managed very well to keep up a pretence. Adam had congratulated her, and the short voyage back from Piraeus to Corina had been a most pleasant one for Jill. She got her bearings around the yacht, enjoyed her mother-in-law's company, got along fine with her husband.
And now, after a month of marriage, she still had no regrets. Life was good, and smooth-no complications, nothing to disrupt in any way the harmony of her life with Adam. He came from the villa, his tall frame clad in a pair of dark blue shorts and a short-sleeved white shirt. She could not help staring at him-as she did so often lately—and admiring his looks and bearing, his masculinity. He saw her, and she smiled, expecting a smile in response, but she was subjected to a frown instead.
'You're going to suffer for this,' he said sternly. 'The sun should be taken in small doses. You lie in it for too long all at once.' She shrugged, but reached for her wrap. It was a pretty coral-coloured little coat fashioned and made in Paris. Adam had brought it back from one of his visits to Athens. She had been amused, remembering his admission about pillow friends, and wondered if he had happened to buy two of these at the same time.
He glanced casually at her as she put it on, then remarked on the colour, saying he must remember that coral suited her complexion.
'I ought to take you to Athens to do some shopping,' he added thoughtfully. 'You haven't a very extensive wardrobe, I've noticed.'
'I don't really need one,' she pointed out. 'I don't go anywhere much.'
He sat down on the grass, idly picking up her book to glance at the title. 'I hope, Jill, that you won't become discontented. I'm fully aware that it must be dull for you—'
'I'm very happy, Adam,' she interrupted, anxious to reassure him. 'In any case, I've made a bargain with you, and I'd never let you down.' The sincerity of her voice held his attention as she continued, her beautiful brown eyes looking into his, 'I know what my obligations are regarding your mother. It isn't possible that I would ever give her cause for suspecting that all was not well between you and me.'
She was relieved to see his face clear. He smiled, and she felt her heart flutter in the strangest way. The sensation was by no means new, but as yet she had not been strongly enough affected by it to ask herself for a reason. Her husband was so handsome that he was bound to affect her in some small way; this she had accepted from the start, and she did wonder how his fiancee had not fallen in love with him. 'Have you seen Mother today?' Adam asked a few moments later.
'No, I'm going along this afternoon—around four—to take tea with her.'
'She's very fond of you,' he said.
'And I of her. She's a marvellous person, Adam. She's like a goddess.'
He looked at her in some amusement. 'My wife is a romantic, eh? Been reading Greek mythology'
She laughed, drawing her coat around her because she was quite suddenly conscious of her husband's eyes roving over her near-naked figure. 'I've always been interested in Greek mythology, and the country and people.'
'And so you decided to learn the language.'
'Yes, it was so difficult at first, though, that I almost gave up. However, I convinced myself that with perseverance I'd master it in the end, and I have.' She stopped, and this time her laugh was one of self-deprecation. 'I'm not terribly good at it, though,' she added finally.
'You're very good at it, Jill. I find it amazing that you've become so fluent.'
'Well, I have been in Greece for over a year, remember.' He nodded, fell quiet for a space and then, right out of the blue: 'Have you heard from Susie lately?'
'About a fortnight ago,' answered Jill, thinking of her sister's reaction on learning of Jill's marriage to Adam. Susie had been furious, saying she, Jill, ought not to have pandered to Adam's whim. It was grasping and mercenary of Jill to make a bargain like that with Adam.
'Why should you get all that money?' Susie had written, having made a wild guess at the amount Jill would receive when eventually the marriage was dissolved. 'I hope, Jill, that you'll accept that it was through me that you met and married Adam, and will give me my share of the profits.' Jill had ignored that, and when she wrote-waiting awhile to allow her anger to abate-she had merely made her letter a short, chatty one containing scarcely any information about her life on the island of Corina. Susie seemed to have become discontented once again with Kenneth, and Jill was left guessing as to whether or not the couple were still keeping company. 'Is she going to marry that young man of hers?'
'I don't know. She doesn't seem to be very happy at the moment.' Jill had told Adam about Kenneth, feeling that she had to make some excuse for her sister's hasty action in running out on Adam.
'She's a strange girl,' mused Adam, opening the book he held and flicking through the pages. 'I really felt she was greedy enough to go through with our marriage. It was a surprise to me when she hinted one day that she was not sure whether she had made the right decision or not.'
'So you threatened her-well, she called it advice. You said that if she changed her mind she would regret it.'
'I did, but I knew of course that I couldn't really force her to keep her promise. I felt that if I abducted her and had her here, a prisoner, I could coerce her into keeping to the contract we had made.'
Jill looked at him, at the stern inflexibility of his features. There was certainly something pagan about him in this moment. He looked ruthless, wicked, a man without a heart. 'You think she would have responded to your ... er ... coercion?' asked Jill interestedly.
'She might have. I had the idea of making the reward such that she couldn't possibly resist it-that was, of course, if all else failed.'
'All else?' Jill's voice still held its note of interest. 'Just what does that mean, Adam?'
For a few seconds he hesitated, as if debating on the best way to frame his words. 'Well, to be quite honest, Jill, I did have in mind that I'd threaten to 'take her' if she didn't agree to the marriage.'
Jill found herself colouring, yet she was able to say, 'And if you had threatened, and she had still remained adamant for she was in love with someone else, remember-would you have carried out your threat?'
He smiled faintly and said, with the sort of inflexibility which brooked no argument, 'As the situation never arose, Jill, we shall not discuss it further.'
Again she coloured. This was not the first time her husband had admonished her in this subtle but very effective way he had. She wondered what it would be like to be really married to him. He would be the undisputed master, that was for sure. His wife would learn to obey him-or take the consequences. That evening they went out to dine at the hotel on the edge of the bay. The lights of the yachts and fishing boats seemed to add romance to the moonlit sea and argen
t hillsides, the palms waving against a nebulous background of deep purple; the bouzouki music played while the dinner was being served on a wide verandah where coloured lamps, hidden in the trellis of vines, provided the only illumination for the tables. Jill was dressed in mauve, in an eveninggown which, cut on the princess line, revealed with subtle allure the beautiful curves of her body. Between courses they danced; she felt the strength of her husband's frame pressed to hers. The experience was not new; every Greek man danced like that-holding the woman as if she were his personal property-but this time Jill was vitally affected by Adam's nearness, by the tingling warmth of his hand on her bare back, of his face above hers as his chin touched her hair.
He seemed masterful, possessive, overpoweringly dominant.
She was flushed when he brought her back to their table, and she could not help noticing the odd expression that came to his eyes. Was it desire? she wondered fearfully. She had put her whole trust in his word, and she had to admit that it was a little late now to remind herself of her warnings to her sister, or of her own firm assertion that she had learned enough about the Greek male to give him a wide berth.
If Adam should decide to assert his rights... She, Jill, would be nothing more than a pillow friend, really, since his fiancee had first place in his life and was the one to whom he would always extend respect.
'What are you thinking, Jill?' His voice drifted to her above the chatter of two waiters talking in Greek. 'You look rather scared, and very beautiful with your colour heightened like that.'
'It was nothing,' she replied swiftly. 'Here come the lobsters!' She flicked a hand, intent on diverting Adam's attention from herself, and she succeeded. Adam transferred his attention to the two waiters coming to their table, one with the lobsters, the other with the wine, a native white with shimmering gold bubbles and an aroma that was heady.
'It was very good, yes?' the waiter said when, later, he came to take away the plates. 'Poli kala, efkharisto, Stamatis.'