The Enigmatic Greek (2 page)

She promptly forgot about bulls when the doors to the Kastro opened and three people emerged to descend the steps to the terrace. Of the two men in the group, it was obvious who was king of this particular castle. Alexei Drakos was smiling down at his blonde companion, and Eleanor realised in sudden excitement that she was Talia Kazan in the flesh, from this distance as beautiful in maturity as she had been in her heyday. The blonde was no pillow-friend after all, but Alexei’s mother, in a hyacinth-blue dress of exquisite cut, a large straw hat on her gleaming hair.

The son was equally striking. His curling hair was only a few shades darker gold than his mother’s, instead of black as Eleanor had expected before she’d researched him, but his face was carved from different, utterly masculine clay, with heavy-lidded dark eyes and handsome, forceful features which bore an unmistakeable resemblance to his father. He was slim-hipped and broad shouldered, and even in conventional linen trousers and white shirt, which merely hinted at the muscles beneath, there was a powerful masculine grace about him. Alexei Drakos was a magnificent specimen of manhood by any standards.

Eleanor watched, riveted, as Alexei linked his arm through his mother’s to inspect the goods on display at each stall for a brief moment and exchange a few words with the vendors before leaving the field clear to the purchasing public. From under cover of her table’s parasol, Eleanor took a few shots of mother and son with the Kastro as backdrop then turned her lens on the festive crowd milling about in the hot sunshine.

Eventually she put her camera away and went off to browse among the stalls for presents to take home. The crafts on display were of good quality. She soon found carved worry-beads that would amuse her father and a small, exquisitely embroidered picture perfect for her mother. With regret she passed by the displays of pottery and copper pots as too difficult to transport home, but then reached a stall with goods that made her mouth water. She’d read that it was hard to find really good jewellery outside the larger towns in Greece, but the wares on sale here were the real deal and obviously came from the mainland. When enough space cleared to let her get a look, she passed over the striking pendants and earrings way out of her price range and concentrated on trays of small trinkets, one of which caught her eye and said ‘buy me’.

‘Copy of Minoan ornament,’ the man on the stall stated, but in such strongly accented Greek Eleanor barely understood. ‘You like it?’

The tiny crystal bull had a gold loop on its back; perfect to attach to her charm bracelet. She liked it a lot.

‘How much?’ she asked, but when he mentioned the sum she shook her head regretfully, which prompted an unintelligible spiel from him on the virtues of the charm. The man only broke off when space was made for someone who addressed Eleanor in Greek to ask if she needed help with the problem. Her most immediate problem, due to the sudden
sight and scent of Alexei Drakos at such close quarters, was trying to muster enough breath and vocabulary to answer.

‘I don’t speak enough Greek to bargain,’ she said at last in English.

‘Ah, I see. Allow me.’ He began a rapid exchange with the stall holder and turned to Eleanor with a smile that rocked her on her heels as he named a price just within her budget.

‘Thank you so much!’ She hastily counted out money to hand over before the stall holder could change his mind, and tried to concentrate as the man said a lot more she couldn’t understand. Standing so close to Alexei Drakos was scrambling her brain!

‘He will attach it to your bracelet if you leave it with him for a while,’ he translated for her, the hint of attractive accent adding to her problem.

‘Thank you.’ Eleanor unfastened the heavy gold chain from her wrist and handed it to the vendor, pointing to a link near the lock.

‘I told him to bring it to you later,’ said Alexei. ‘Do you have a table?’

Eleanor nodded dumbly, certain by now he thought she was a total idiot.

‘Alexei
mou
, I heard you speaking English,’ said his mother, hurrying to join them. ‘Won’t you introduce me?’

He smiled. ‘I’ve only just met the lady myself.’

‘Then I will make the introductions. I am Talia Kazan, and this is my son, Alexei Drakos.’ Her accent was equally fascinating, but more pronounced than her son’s, the words spoken with friendly warmth that unlocked Eleanor’s tongue.

‘Eleanor Markham,’ she said, smiling. ‘How do you do?’

‘Delighted to meet you. Are you here with friends?’

‘No, I’m travelling alone.’

‘Then would you care to join me for a drink?’ said Talia.

Would she! Eleanor beamed. ‘I’d love to. Perhaps you’d come over to my table.’

‘I’ll send someone,’ said Alexei, and went off to speak to a waiter.

Talia gave Eleanor the smile that had made her famous. ‘I am so glad of some company. Alex is very busy today.’ When they reached the table, to the intense interest of people sitting nearby, she sat down with a sigh of pleasure. ‘Are you just here for the day at the festival, or are you staying on Karpyros?’

Eleanor explained about her assignment.

Talia’s violet eyes were instantly guarded. ‘You are a journalist.’

Eleanor met the look steadily. ‘Yes. But I’m not a gossip columnist. I work in features, mainly on travel, so I won’t capitalise on meeting the famous Talia Kazan.’

The slender shoulders shrugged. ‘It is a very long time since I was famous.’

‘Yet you’ve hardly changed at all.’ Eleanor spoke with such obvious sincerity the beautiful eyes warmed.

‘How kind of you to say so. You are here to write about the festival?’

Eleanor nodded, hoping she didn’t look guilty. Bad move to reveal that an interview with Alexei Drakos was her main objective.

‘I have not been here for the festival for a while,’ Talia told her. ‘But Alex always leaves his calendar clear for it, so I came on impulse to surprise him.’

‘He must have been delighted!’

‘Fortunately, he seemed to be. Not every man welcomes a surprise visit from his mother.’ Talia smiled up at the youth setting down glasses, bottles of mineral water and fruit
juice. ‘
Efcharisto,
Yannis.’ She eyed Eleanor with gratifying interest. ‘So, tell me about your assignment.’

Eleanor described the lesser-known islands she’d visited for her series. ‘I take my own photographs, so I nearly always travel solo.’

‘But you must have someone in the UK waiting impatiently for your return?’ The blue eyes sparkled, unashamedly curious.

Eleanor shook her head, smiling. ‘The only one waiting impatiently right now is my editor. But I’m lucky enough to have good friends, and I’m close to my parents.’

‘I am most fortunate myself that way. My son may be a busy man, but he makes time for regular—if brief—visits to his mother. Do you live at home with your parents?’

Before Eleanor could reply, Alexei Drakos joined them.

Talia smiled at him warmly. ‘Sit with us for a while.’

He shook his head. ‘Stefan tells me I have calls to return. Miss Markham, has your bracelet been returned to you?’

‘No, not yet.’

‘I’ll hurry the man along.’ With an abstracted smile, he strode off again.

His mother looked after him anxiously. ‘The world does not leave him alone, even here at his retreat—though Stefan, his assistant, does his best to keep it at bay over this particular holiday.’

‘This festival is obviously important to—to your son,’ said Eleanor.

‘To me, also,’ said Talia, and looked up with an enquiring smile as a boy approached the table, holding out a package.

‘Ah, that must be for me,’ said Eleanor, and took out her bracelet, now adorned with the crystal bull. ‘
Efcharisto
!’ she said, pleased, and handed over a tip. She smiled guiltily as she displayed the charm. ‘Very expensive, but I couldn’t
resist it after your son was kind enough to bargain the price down.’

Talia leaned closer to examine it. ‘Exquisite—and a most perfect souvenir of Kyrkiros.’

Eleanor fastened the bracelet on her wrist. ‘There. No more extravagance for me this trip.’

Alexei Drakos’ assistant came towards them, smiling respectfully. ‘Forgive me for interrupting, but Sofia says a light supper is ready,
kyria
Talia. She apologises it is early tonight because of the
taurokathapsia.
’

‘Of course,’ she said, getting up. ‘Miss Eleanor Markham, meet Stefan Petrides, Alexei’s man in Athens.’

Stefan bowed formally to Eleanor. ‘
Chairo poly, kyria
Markham.’

‘
Pos eiste
,’ she returned.

‘I am not happy leaving you alone here, my dear,’ said Talia, frowning. ‘Please join us for dinner.’

Eleanor smiled gratefully, but shook her head. ‘That’s so kind of you, but I purposely ate enough lunch to see me through the evening. Goodbye—it’s been such a pleasure to meet you.’

‘Likewise, Eleanor Markham, though the day is not over yet,’ said Talia, and with a smile went off with her escort.

Eleanor gazed after them a little wistfully, then sat down and began writing up the events of the afternoon. She was soon so deeply absorbed she jumped when someone rapped on the metal table. She looked up with a smile to find Alexei Drakos eyeing her notebook with hostility.

‘My mother is concerned about leaving you alone here,’ he said coldly. ‘But you’re obviously busy. She tells me you’re a journalist.’

Her smile died. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘And my island is providing an even richer source of material than you expected?’

Eleanor’s defences sprang to attention. ‘It is indeed.’

‘Write one word about my mother, and I will sue,’ he said with menace.

Eleanor’s chin went up. ‘I’m here solely to report on this famous festival of yours, Mr Drakos. But, since you ask so
nicely,
I’ll leave out my chance meeting with Talia Kazan. Though, since I would be reporting fact, suing would not be possible.’

‘Maybe not.’ His cold eyes locked on hers. ‘But believe me, Miss Markham—whatever rag you work for I can get you fired as easily as I helped you out earlier.’

He strode off, cursing at the chance that had involved his mother with Eleanor Markham. Since the notoriety Christina Mavros had brought on him, he had avoided contact with any woman other than his mother. Until today, that was, when an attractive tourist’s rueful little smile had seduced him into offering help to someone who was not only a woman but a reporter, for God’s sake!

Eleanor stared after him balefully. No chance of an interview with Talia Kazan’s baby boy, then. And no prize for guessing how Alexei Drakos had made his fortune, either. He’d probably just stepped on the necks of everyone who got in his way. Her mouth tightened. Romantic fool that she was, the chance meeting with him had been one of the major experiences of her life, whereas to him she was just a petty little problem to solve by threats.

Her eyes sparking like an angry cat’s behind her glasses, she noted that all the reserved tables were now full, other than the one adjoining hers. Everyone was eating and drinking and having a wonderful time in laughing, animated groups, which emphasized her solitary state—a common enough situation on her travels, and not one that had bothered her in the slightest up to now. Eleanor shrugged impatiently. Her blood sugars obviously needed a boost after
the clash with the dragon of Kyrkiros. She walked over to the stalls, bought a couple of nut-filled honey pastries from one of them, and returned to her table to find a teenaged lad waiting there.

‘
Kyria
Talia sent for you,’ he informed her, indicating the tray on the table.

Eleanor smiled warmly and asked him to convey her thanks to the lady. She sat down to pour tea into a delicate china cup and smiled when she tasted an unmistakeably British blend. The pastries were doubly delicious with the tea as accompaniment. By the time Eleanor had finished her surprise treat, lamps were glowing along the terrace, the sudden darkness of the Aegean night had fallen, a singer had joined the musicians and she had almost recovered from the blow of her encounter with Alexei Drakos. She stiffened when an audible ripple of interest through the crowd heralded the arrival of the man himself as he ushered his mother to the adjoining table. One look at him revived her anger so fiercely it took an effort to smile when Talia beckoned to her.

‘Do come and join us, Eleanor. The dancing will start soon.’

Eleanor shook her head firmly; grateful it was too dark for her feelings to show. ‘It’s very kind of you but I wouldn’t dream of intruding.’

‘Nonsense! Why sit there alone? Stefan will bring your things.’

And, short of causing a scene, Eleanor was obliged to accept the chair Alexei Drakos held out for her next to his mother. She thanked him politely and smiled at Talia. ‘And thank
you
so much for the tea. It was just what I needed.’

‘I hoped it might be. I made it with my own fair hands.’ The radiance of Talia’s smile contrasted sharply with the
expression on her son’s face. ‘Do stop looming over us and sit down, Alexei
mou
—you too, Stefan.’

Eleanor tensed, her stomach muscles contracting as a bull bellowed somewhere deep inside the
Kastro
, loud enough to be heard above the music and the noise of the chattering crowd.

‘Ah, we begin,’ said Talia with satisfaction.

Alexei eyed Eleanor sardonically. ‘Is something wrong, Miss Markham?’

‘Nothing at all,’ she lied, but sucked in a startled breath as the lights died. They were left in darkness for several tense seconds before the torches encircling the raised wooden platform burst into flame, and bonfires ignited one after the other along the outer edges of the beach.

‘How is that for Greek drama?’ crowed Talia, touching Eleanor’s hand. ‘My dear, you are so cold. What is wrong?’

‘Anticipation,’ Eleanor said brightly. With a defiant look at Alexei Drakos, she took out her camera. ‘For my article,’ she informed him.

‘You may take as many photographs of the dancers as you wish,’ he assured her, his message loud and clear. One shot of his beautiful mother and Eleanor Markham would be thrown off his island.