CAMILLA’S legs were shaking under her as she made her way through the restaurant area to the outside staircase.
She’d never been kissed so publicly before. In fact, she hadn’t been kissed that much at all, and Nic Xandreou’s deliberate ravishment of her mouth had been a profound and shattering experience.
Particularly when conducted under the gaze of the hotel staff and half the population of Karthos, she thought, shame and resentment fuelling her anger. She was all too aware of the grins and nudges between the waiters who were preparing the tables for dinner. She heard someone say, ‘Xandreou’s woman,’ and laugh.
What on earth had possessed him? she raged inwardly as she went upstairs, avoiding a sullen look of disapproval from Kostas’s wife Maria, who was hosing down the courtyard.
A gesture of contempt, perhaps, for the sister of a girl who’d allowed herself to be too easily seduced? Well, he’d misjudged both Katie and herself, as he’d find out to his cost, she promised herself wrathfully.
And if he imagined he could humiliate her into running away, he’d think again about that too.
In the meantime, she’d decided it was best for Katie to remain in the dark about what was going on. She would reunite her sister with Spiro somehow, she was determined about that. But it would serve no purpose to worry Katie unnecessarily, for the time being.
When she went to the clinic in the morning, she would ask the doctor about Spiro’s amnesia, its treatment and likely duration. At least then she’d know what they were dealing with.
Nic Xandreou’s intransigence was another matter altogether. She’d no idea what could cure that, she thought as she went into the bedroom.
The splash of the shower ceased as she entered the room, and Katie emerged from the small bathroom, a towel wrapped sarong-like around her, running her hands through her damp hair. Her eyes widened when she saw her sister.
‘Milla—what’s happened?’
Which particular incident did she have in mind? Camilla asked herself in silent irony. Aloud she said, ‘I did a really stupid thing, love. I hired one of the local scooters, and fell off.’
Katie looked horrified. ‘But you could have been killed.’
‘Could have been, but wasn’t.’ Camilla kept her tone light. ‘I’m now cured of living dangerously.’ Or I hope I am, she added silently. ‘What have you been doing?’
‘I slept for ages.’ Katie began towelling her hair. ‘Then I walked down to the beach and had a swim. The water was wonderful. You should have been with me.’
‘Yes.’ Camilla collected a handful of fresh undies and started for the shower. ‘I really wish I had been.’
‘The beach was really crowded,’ Katie went on. ‘I kept thinking how wonderful it would be if I looked up and saw Spiro coming towards me, just like that first time.’ Her voice was very tender, and slightly wistful. ‘Falling in love with him was so simple—and right. Now, suddenly, it’s all difficult and complicated.’
‘But not impossible,’ Camilla said bracingly. ‘And that’s a promise. Now, you decide what I’m going to have for my first Greek meal.’ She paused. ‘Shall we eat here or at one of the tavernas?’
‘Here, I guess.’ Katie sounded suddenly listless, her shoulders slumped defeatedly. ‘It doesn’t really matter.’
Camilla felt her hands clench, and wished they were fastened round Nic Xandreou’s throat.
She showered swiftly, flinching as the water touched her grazed skin, but glad at the same time to wash away any lingering contact with Nic Xandreou’s mouth and hands. Although the actual memory of the kiss might not be so easy to dismiss, she realised unhappily.
She dressed in a simple jade-green dress with a full wrap-around skirt, brushing her hair out on to her shoulders.
Downstairs, Kostas welcomed them exuberantly, and showed them to a table.
‘To drink, ladies?’ He handed them menus.
‘Orange juice for me,’ decided Katie, who’d perked up a little, to Camilla’s relief. ‘And retsina for my sister.’
‘Good, good,’ he approved. ‘And to eat, may I recommend lamb baked in the oven with tomatoes, garlic and fresh herbs?’
Both girls agreed that that sounded wonderful, and he went off, bellowing noisy instructions towards the kitchen.
‘What’s retsina?’ Camilla asked suspiciously, noting Katie’s dancing eyes.
‘Resinated white wine. Very Greek. Spiro told me it gets its flavour from the casks it’s stored in. You’ll love it,’ Katie promised.
At first, Camilla found the flavour odd, but her palate soon adapted, and by the time a beaming Kostas brought them appetisers of deep-fried kalamari, accompanied by tsatsiki, a dip made from yoghurt and cucumbers, she was entirely won over.
The lamb, which came with sliced fried potatoes and green beans, was tender, robustly flavoured and delicious, and Camilla noted thankfully that Katie ate every scrap of her generous helping. Both girls declined the sweet pastries offered for dessert, opting simply for coffee served sketo, without sugar.
With the coffee came complimentary glasses of a liqueur tasting of tangerines, served by Kostas who informed them that the entertainment was about to begin.
‘Tonight, thespinis, we have live bouzouki, and also dance.’
‘That sounds like fun.’ Katie’s face had that wistful look again. ‘Spiro took me to some wonderful bouzouki clubs in Athens.’
Camilla couldn’t judge the standard of performance when the trio of musicians started up, but the music was lively with an infectious rhythm, and she found herself clapping in time with the beat along with everyone else at the surrounding tables.
A beaming Kostas led off the dancing, with some of the waiters, moving in a slow, almost stately sequence, in line, their hands resting on each other’s shoulders.
‘That’s the syrto,’ Katie told her. ‘It’s incredibly old and there are only about six basic steps, but the leader always supplies his own variations.’
Like many burly men, Kostas was agile, and light on his feet, as he dipped and swayed to the music, sinking down to one knee before leaping upright again.
Camilla noticed Maria watching from the hotel doorway, her face sullen and unsmiling. Her whole attitude was in total contrast to her husband’s geniality. If theirs had been an arranged marriage, Kostas seemed to have the worst of the bargain, Camilla thought with faint amusement.
The beat of the music had changed, and more people were joining in the dancing, moving and turning in a chain which wound between the tables.
Camilla shook her head regretfully when Kostas beckoned. Her bruised side was aching too much for that kind of exertion, but Katie jumped up eagerly.
‘Do you think you should?’ Camilla put out a detaining hand.
‘Just this once.’ There were dreams in Katie’s eyes. ‘It brings back so many memories.’
She was young and healthy, Camilla thought as she sipped her drink. It was wrong to try and wrap her in cotton wool. And she needed all the cheering up she could get.
Everyone in the restaurant was watching the dancing, absorbed in the colour and movement, but Camilla was suddenly aware, with a little shiver of unease, that someone was watching her instead.
The music seemed to fade to a distance, and the dancers became a blur. She put the tiny glass down carefully, because her hand was shaking, and sent a studiedly casual glance towards the restaurant’s trellised entrance.
Nic Xandreou was standing there, hands on hips. He looked taller than ever in pale grey trousers, and a shirt in the same colour with a soft, silky sheen. Across the space that divided them, his dark eyes met hers in a direct challenge she felt down to her bones, then switched quite deliberately to where Katie was dancing, her face shining with animation.
Camilla saw his brows lift, and the faint contemptuous smile which twisted his mouth, as he registered the scene before him. He glanced back towards her table. Is this the innocent child, pregnant and broken-hearted? his cynically accusing gaze demanded, louder than any words.
Then he turned, and vanished back into the dark street as silently as he’d come.
Camilla found her heart was hammering, and her mouth suddenly dry. What was he doing there? she asked herself. If he’d come to see Katie, he couldn’t have chosen a worse moment. He’d be convinced now that she was just another silly, pretty English girl hell-bent on a good time. She could have screamed with vexation.
The music ended, and Katie returned, glowing.
‘That was wonderful,’ she said. ‘Spiro would be proud of me.’ She gave her sister a swift hug. ‘Everything’s going to be all right. I know it is.’
Camilla returned her smile, but with constraint. With a sinking heart, she thought, I wish I could be so sure.
The next morning found her climbing the steep cobbled street that led up through the centre of town to the clinic.
To her relief, Katie had not pressed her initial offer to accompany her, agreeing to see her later on the beach.
Quite apart from her various aches and pains, Camilla had found sleep elusive the previous night. She had lain listening to Katie’s gentle breathing, trying to make plans—to decide principally what to do if the doctor refused to help them.
It was a possibility she couldn’t discount. He was clearly a friend of the Xandreou family, and might well agree with Nic Xandreou that Katie was a minor indiscretion, easily brushed aside.
She sighed as she traversed the crowded pavements, where shop displays overflowed into the open air. She found herself edging round stands of beautifully tooled leather bags, woven rugs in traditional patterns and cascades of embroidered linens and wall-hangings. At any other time, she would have lingered for a closer look at the goods on offer, but she had the uneasy feeling that there wasn’t a second to be lost.
Nic Xandreou was a powerful man, with the island in his pocket. And she and Katie were outsiders, totally isolated. She couldn’t forget that for a minute.
Nor could she forget the scorch of his kiss on her mouth—nor, more fundamentally, his parting warning. For her own peace of mind, she should keep out of Nic Xandreou’s way, and common sense suggested a strategic retreat back to England.
But, in spite of her personal misgivings, it was Katie’s interests she had to consider, and those of her unborn child. Katie had come to Karthos to be reunited with the man she loved.
And I’ve promised to help, she thought. I can’t go back on that now simply because Nic Xandreou alarms and disturbs me.
The clinic was housed in an old building, its bell-tower revealing it as a former monastery. But once inside the rather forbidding entrance Camilla found the facilities were a dream of ultra-modernity. Petros, in an immaculate white coat, was standing talking to the receptionist, and he came across to Camilla at once.
‘How are you today, thespinis?’ His smile was friendly. ‘No ill effects from your fall—no raised temperature, or headaches?’
‘I’m a bit stiff and sore, but otherwise fine. I really don’t need any antibiotics.’ She paused. ‘But I would like to consult you about something else.’
‘Of course.’ He opened a door, and waved her ahead of him. Camilla walked in, and paused, half dazzled by the blast of strong sunlight which greeted her, turning the rest of the large room to shadow. The room was dominated, she saw, by a huge desk, and, straight ahead of her, long windows stood open, giving access to a walled garden with a colonnaded walkway, presumably once used by the monks.
‘My office,’ Petros told her as he closed the door. ‘For my sins I am also the clinic director.’
‘You’ve certainly chosen the loveliest room.’ Camilla looked with open delight at the central square of grass, where a small fountain danced from the cupped hands of a discreetly veiled stone nymph, while surrounding the fountain were roses, great, shaggy, untamed masses of them in every shade from crimson and deep copper to the palest cream.
‘Sit down, thespinis. How may I help you?’
Camilla took a deep breath. ‘I want to ask you about Spiro Xandreou’s amnesia,’ she said. ‘I suppose you know why my sister and I are on Karthos?’
‘The matter has been mentioned.’ The doctor’s face was discreetly enigmatic.
‘Then we’re very much at your mercy. Please—how long will it be before Spiro remembers things again?’
He shook his head. ‘You ask me something I cannot answer. Sometimes the condition changes slowly. In other cases, a jog to the memory can restore it suddenly and completely.’ He sighed. ‘But Spiro fights his condition. It frightens him to realise that much of his past has become a blank, and this increases his confusion.’
Camilla grimaced. ‘Then my visit yesterday really didn’t help. I wish I’d been told what was wrong.’
‘The family does not wish his condition generally known. This is a small island with simple people. A broken leg is understood, something in the mind less so.’
Camilla nodded. ‘You mentioned a jog to his memory. Do you think, maybe, seeing my sister again could be just the jolt he needs?’
Petros’s face sobered. ‘It is certainly possible,’ he said, after a pause.
‘Then can you arrange it?’
He spread his hands in apology. ‘I regret it is not permitted. Nic—Kyrios Xandreou—has given orders that neither you nor your sister is to be admitted to the villa, or allowed to see Spiro. I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, God.’ Camilla, speaking through gritted teeth, hardly recognised her own voice. ‘The bastard.’
She remembered the searing pressure of his mouth on hers and thought, Judas.
Petros looked shocked. ‘You must not say such a thing, thespinis. You do not understand. Since Nic was quite young, he has had to be the patriarch to his family, and it has not been easy. He seeks only to protect them.’ He paused, looking uncomfortable. ‘Perhaps to keep them from mistakes that he knows will only lead to great unhappiness.’
‘I’m sure the mighty Mr Xandreou has never put a foot wrong in his life,’ Camilla said bitterly. ‘He’s the golden boy through and through.’
The doctor shook his head. ‘Not always, thespinis,’ he corrected gently. ‘The loss of his parents—then his marriage, and the death of his wife—all these were tragedies for him. And they have left their mark, I think.’
Camilla gasped. ‘He’s a widower?’ she asked huskily. It was the last thing she’d expected to hear. She bit her lip, remembering how she’d accused him of being without a heart—without feeling. Clearly that had not been true—once. But surely it should make him more understanding of Katie and Spiro…
She said, ‘Couldn’t you talk to him—from a medical point of view? Convince him that letting Katie see Spiro would be worth trying at least?’
‘I can try,’ he said. ‘But I guarantee nothing. Nic is my friend—and a friend to everyone on Karthos.’ He gestured around him wryly. ‘He provided this clinic at his own expense. But, like his father and grandfather before him, he is an autocrat. His word has always been law, and he expects no argument with his decisions.’
Camilla got to her feet. ‘Then perhaps it’s time there was,’ she returned crisply.
His brows rose. ‘You are a brave woman, thespinis.’ The internal telephone rang on his desk, and he lifted the receiver. As he listened, Camilla saw him begin to frown. He said something quietly in his own language, and rang off.
He said, ‘There is something I must see to, thespinis, if you’ll excuse me.’ He paused, looking faintly embarrassed. ‘I hope I may offer you some coffee before you go?’
‘There’s no need.’ Camilla hesitated, glancing at her watch.
‘No, it is my pleasure. One moment only, please.’
The door closed behind him.
Camilla walked over to the window, and looked out. The sun-warmed scent of the roses, carried on the faint breeze, seemed to fill the room. Their fragrance and colour caught at her throat—lifted her heart.
She thought, I was right to come here. He’s made no promises, but at least he’s held out a glimmer of hope.
She heard the door behind her open again.
She said, ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I’m sure, between us, we can persuade Mr Xandreou to change his mind.’
‘Such certainty, thespinis.’ The silken mockery of an all too familiar voice assailed her ears. ‘Now I wouldn’t count on a thing.’
For a moment, Camilla stood, frozen to the spot, then slowly she turned and looked across the shadows of the room to the tall man who stood by the doorway. Blocking, she realised, her means of retreat.
‘Kalimera,’ said Nic Xandreou, and smiled at her.