His Forbidden Bride (9 page)

fishing vil ages with wonderful views over the Ionian Sea. There were any

number of walks, none of which would take more than a few hours to

complete, including one up the steep slopes of Mount Edira, with even more

breathtaking views.

And there were the Silver Caves. These, she read, were situated on the

other side of the island, and led to a smal subterranean lake. Some mineral

in the rock gave it a metal ic sheen, and affected the colour of the water, too,

hence the name. Boats could be hired to row across the lake, and at night,

when moonlight penetrated a fissure in the roof, visitors would feel they

were enclosed in a precious silver casket.

Not for the claustrophobic then, Zoe thought drily, but she had to admit it

sounded appealing.

There was also an echo in the caves, which had been used for generations

on the island by lovers to test the fidelity of their chosen partners. If you

called the loved one's name, and it echoed back, then you had nothing to

fear. But if there was silence…

Hideous embarrassment all round, thought Zoe, entertained.

As she closed the book she was suddenly aware that she was being

watched.

She glanced up and met the frowning gaze of a newcomer to the

backgammon game. He was solidly built, with a mass of silver hair under a

rakish peaked cap, his once handsome face heavily lined. His hands were

clasped in front of him on top of a walking stick.

Even when Zoe met his eye, he did not look away, but went on staring at her

curiously, almost fiercely, as if he knew her, but was cursing the fact that he

could not place her.

But I bet I know who you are, Zoe told herself silently.
Kalimera
, Uncle

Stavros.

She had half risen from her chair with the intention of going over to speak to

him when he rose and moved away, walking quickly for a man leaning

heavily on a stick.

Zoe sank back, feeling oddly deflated. She knew from photographs how

closely she resembled her mother at the same age.

It was clear he'd picked up the family resemblance, she thought flatly, but he

hadn't wanted to renew the acquaintance. Nor had he wished to be

questioned about it.

Wel , this is only the third day of my vacation, she thought. There's plenty of

time ahead for his curiosity to get the better of him. And I'm sure it wil .

If not, I'l make the first approach myself.

She looked rather defensively at the backgammon players, but they were

total y absorbed in their game. None of them had a second glance to spare

for her.

Ah, wel —investigation over for today, she thought, leaving the money on

the table for the waiter. And back to being a tourist again.

But all the way down the hill she found herself remembering that

concentrated, almost worried stare, and wondering…

Sherry, reflected Zoe, had not been joking about the town beach getting

busy. She was beginning to know how a sardine had to feel as the tin closed

round it, and it wasn't even noon yet, she thought, groaning.

It seemed the entire population of Livassi had turned out to sun themselves,

and bathe in the shal ow water. Or play something like vol eyball without the

net, she thought without pleasure as a large beach ball thudded down

beside her, yet again, spraying her with fine sand.

The young Greek who ran over to retrieve it gave her a flashing smile that

bordered on a leer, while his friends shouted something that might have

been encouragement.

'Hey, pretty girl, you want to play?' he demanded.

'No, thank you,' Zoe returned austerely, adding a muted glare, then

transferred her attention ostentatiously back to the book she was reading.

There were four of them altogether, and they'd been a nuisance ever since

they arrived. And because she was a girl on her own, they seemed to have

singled her out for special attention, she realised with growing annoyance.

The bal was being deliberately batted in her direction, so that they could

come rushing over in turn, strutting their stuff, bending far too close, and

making grinning remarks that she was grateful not to understand. Until now,

when they'd worked out that she was English rattier than German or

Swedish as they'd probably assumed.

For the first time, she regretted being alone, realising that it made her

conspicuous, and a sitting target for the local Romeos.

She looked surreptitiously around, hoping to see one of the families who

were also staying at the hotel, but everyone around her seemed to be

Greek. And, anyway, she was probably fussing too much about a bit of

innocent horseplay, she told herself, and eventually, when she didn't

respond, they'd get bored and stop.

But ten minutes later, when she was stil being regularly spattered with sand,

she decided to cut her losses, and go.

It wasn't real y such a hardship, she told herself. It was lunchtime, and she

could try the fish taverna she'd passed on the harbourside. Perhaps by the

time she came back they would either have moved on, or found some other

female to pester.

She slipped her check shirt over her bikini, fastening the middle buttons,

then col ected her things and stood up. She'd hoped they were too

immersed in their game to notice, but by the time she reached the stony

track bordering the beach that led back to the harbour, she realised to her

alarm that two of them were fol owing her.

She quickened her pace, stumbling a little as the loose pebbles on the track

rol ed under her sandalled feet, and the stocky one who had spoken to her

in English caught up with her effortlessly, putting a hand on her arm.

'You come—have drink in my brother's bar?' He grinned at her, his eyes

insolent, as he looked her up and down.

'No, thank you.' Zoe's response was cold and unsmiling. She tried to tug

herself free, but to no avail. His hand closed on her more firmly.

'We want you to be friendly.' His companion came to her other side, so that

she was effectively trapped between them. 'I work on Zakynthos last year.'

He rol ed his eyes lasciviously. 'Al English girls very friendly.'

'You have apartment?' the first one asked 'We go there—have drink maybe,

kougla mou
. Is quieter—more private.' He pushed up her sleeve, stroking

the skin on the inside of her arm with hot, damp fingers.

Zoe's anger began to give way to something like fear. But she dared not

show it.

She said furiously, 'Let go of me. Let go at once.'

The second youth laughed, showing a broken tooth. 'Be nice, honey girl, and

we show you a good time.'

'And I,' said Zoe, 'wil show you the inside of a jail cel .'

With a strength she'd not known she possessed, she wrenched herself

loose and set off, running. But before she'd gone more than a few yards she

cannoned into someone who was standing, blocking her way, and recoiled

with a scream.

'Hush,
pedhi mou
.' It was Andreas' voice. His hands descended firmly on

her shoulders, holding her. 'Al is wel . You are safe.'

He looked past her to her assailants, speaking softly in his own language.

Zoe saw with disbelief that al the macho bluster and posturing had suddenly

gone out of them, just as if someone had thrown a switch. They were staring

at the ground, muttering and shrugging, looking hangdog, and almost

embarrassed. Then, as Andreas spoke more sharply, they turned and

slouched away back to the beach.

'My God.' Her voice was shaky. 'They didn't put up much of a fight.'

His brows lifted. 'You would like me to cal them back, perhaps.'

'No—oh, no.' She paused. 'What did you say to them to make

them—disappear like that? Do they know you?'

'Of course,' he said. 'Thania is a very small island. And, among other things,

I reminded them that we al work for the same man, who would not be

pleased to find them accused of sexual y harassing a tourist. Although I

have to tel you that they are both more stupid than dangerous.'

'Not,' Zoe said, 'from where I was sitting.' She took a deliberate step away

from him, releasing herself from his grasp, and gave him a frowning look.

He was wearing denim trousers, and his thin white shirt was unbuttoned,

revealing, once again, more smooth brown skin than she wished to see. She

hurried into speech. 'Is that all you said to them?'

'There were embel ishments,' he said. 'But I wil not trouble you with those.'

'Oh.' She digested that, then looked at him with renewed suspicion.

'Anyway, what are you doing here?'

'I thought—rescuing you from annoyance.'

She brushed that aside impatiently. 'I mean—how did you happen to be here

just in the nick of time? Isn't that rather a strange coincidence?'

'Ah,' Andreas said softly. 'A conspiracy theory. But there is no need for

paranoia,
pedhi mou
. Or to imagine that I hired those idiots to annoy you, so that I could play the part of some knight in shining armour,' he added. 'You

needed help, and I happened to come along. That is al .'

'You just
happened
to be here?'

He shrugged. 'This is a public path, leading to a public beach,' he countered.

'Why should I not be here?' He paused. 'Although I admit I was coming to

look for you.'

Her already flustered heartbeat began to pound to a different rhythm. 'Why

should you do that?'

And why did I ask that, she wondered despairingly, when I don't want to hear

the answer?

'Because the beach at the house seemed quiet without you.' He smiled at

her. 'And yesterday you left without saying goodbye.'

Zoe stared down at the dusty track. 'I felt embarrassed,' she said in a low

voice. 'An intruder. I—I had no real right to be there, and I knew it.'

'Even though I had made it clear you were a welcome guest?'

'Wel , it was hardly your place to do that,' she returned. 'However strict he is

about hassling women tourists, your boss might not appreciate your

entertaining visitors in his absence.'

'I promise you he would feel honoured.'

She hunched a shoulder. 'Al the same, I think it would be better to keep my

distance from now on.'

He frowned slightly. 'So the house no longer interests you?' he queried. 'You

have changed your mind about wishing to live there.'

'I didn't say that.'

'Good,' he said. 'Because I have told my employer of your interest, and he is

looking forward to meeting you.'

She drew a swift, astonished breath. She hadn't expected that. She'd

intended to make her own enquiries—stay in control of the situation, yet now

it seemed to be taken out of her hands.

'Isn't that a little premature?' It was her turn to frown. 'I gather he's been very il .'

'He is on the mend. Also bored. He needs entertainment—a new interest,

which you could provide.'

'I want to discuss business with him,' Zoe said shortly. 'I'm not a cabaret act.'

'No,' he said, silkily. 'They tend to smile more.'

She bit her lip. 'I'm—sorry. I'm stil rather stressed, I think.'

'You need food,' he said. 'And a glass of wine. So, have lunch with me, and

over the meal you can express your gratitude to me for coming to your aid,

as I am sure you wish to do.'

Zoe felt her jaw begin to drop, and restored it hurriedly to its correct position.

Somehow, he'd wrong-footed her again. How on earth did he do that?

Not that it altered a thing. She wasn't prepared to venture on another meal
à

deux
with him, even if there was a table between them, and loads of other

people around this time. It was too dangerous. Her reaction to him was too

extreme. As it was, she was shaking inside.

She managed a smal cool smile. 'I already have plans for lunch,' she said.

'So I'd better say thanks here and now. You saved me from a—nasty

situation, and I am grateful. Truly.' She contemplated offering to shake

hands with him, and decided against it 'So, thank you again and—see you

around.'

She walked away, trying not to hurry, and certainly not risking even a glance

over her shoulder to see how he had taken his rejection. Surely by now he'd

have got the message, she argued with herself. Besides, remembering the

prices she'd checked on the menus displayed outside the fish taverna

earlier, she'd be doing him a favour. He couldn't afford them on a gardener's

wage.

The taverna was crowded, nearly all the tables being occupied, and Zoe

was hesitating at the entrance, wondering whether to return another day

instead, when a smiling waiter materialised beside her. 'You want good fish.

Come, please. I have a nice table for you.'

He whisked her under the green awning to a secluded spot in the corner,

shaded by a flowering vine growing up a trel is.

Nice, thought Zoe, sinking into her chair with an inner sigh of contentment,

was not the word.

She reached out a hand and touched the petals on the smal jar of golden

rosebuds occupying the centre of the snowy cloth, then paused as a swift

glance around her revealed that hers was the only table with such a

decoration.

The waiter came bustling back, bringing chilled water and a basket

containing crusty bread and, she realised with growing unease, two sets of