Runaway Sister (13 page)

“Yes,” said Samantha, glad of an excuse to account for her flushed face, “I do feel exhausted.”

“Not too exhausted to go out to dinner tonight, I hope,” said Adam. Then turning to Valerie he said, “You don't mind, do you, if I steal your nurse for tonight?”

Valerie laughed. “Of course not! Dennis should be back any moment now, the flight came in from Athens about half an hour ago. We'll spend a quiet evening together, and you two go off and see a bit of nightlife.”

That having been agreed upon, Samantha spent the next half hour rifling through her wardrobe trying to decide what to wear. Adam hadn't given her any indication at all about the kind of place he would be taking her to, and the evening was very hot, so anything too elaborate was out of the question.

Eventually she decided on a simple dark blue cheesecloth dress with bootlace shoulder straps. The flimsy material clung to the shape of her figure, making her look even more slender than she actually was. She brushed her blonde hair, now streaked even fairer by the sun, back casually onto her shoulders, and completed the outfit with a pair of flimsy leather thonged sandals that were comfortable and cool.

Dennis had arrived by the time she joined Adam and Valerie on the terrace, and they all turned as she walked towards them.

“Oh,” said Valerie, looking at Samantha's slender figure enviously, “how I long to get back into shape!”

Dennis hugged his wife. “I think you look absolutely beautiful the way you are,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“Anyway, one day Samantha will look like that too,” said Adam.

Valerie laughed. “Oh, Adam,” she said, “you are rotten—look, you've made Samantha blush.” It was true, Samantha's face was stained pink at Adam's embarrassing remark.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn't think. I just meant you'll be married one day and no doubt have a family.”

“I doubt it,” returned Samantha shortly, not wishing to prolong the conversation. “I'm a career girl, and not likely to get married now.”

Adam raised his eyebrows quizzically but let the remark go unchallenged. They said their goodbyes to Dennis and Valerie and made their way to the car.

As they bumped their way painfully up the stony track to the main road Adam asked casually, “Did you mean it about being a career girl?”

“Yes,” said Samantha, with more certainty than she felt.

Chapter Seven

They drove in silence from the villa, through the winding mountain roads from Paleokastritsa towards Corfu Town, but it was comfortable silence, and Samantha felt strangely relaxed and happy. She stole a sideways glance at Adam's profile as he concentrated on the driving, and the rugged sculpture of his dominant face caught at her throat. She wanted to reach out her hand and run her fingers along that strong jawline.

He must have sensed that she was looking at him, for he turned his head and gave her a lazy smile that was almost like a physical caress. His smile played havoc with her heartbeat, it pounded so loudly in her ears that she felt its thumping must surely be heard by Adam echoing round inside the car.

“I should have told you before,” he said, “that you look very lovely tonight.”

Her long lashes swept down over her high cheekbones, his words and look arousing an almost shocking feeling of delight in her. She tried not to show the inner agitation by lowering her eyelashes demurely. “Thank you,” she answered, hardly knowing what to say.

“But then,” Adam continued, “I've noticed that you always look lovely when you're dressed up. You should always dress like that. When you're in the delivery suite, the theatre gown and cap you wear does absolutely nothing for you!”

Samantha laughed. “You can hardly expect me to dress like this to deliver a baby,” she said. “I can just imagine the stir it would cause in hospital!”

“It would cause quite a stir among the men too, I can tell you that much.” Adam's glance slid down to the folds of her dress, revealing the gentle swell of her breasts.

Samantha was glad that the purple dusk had crept amongst the olive groves, as she hoped it would disguise the pink flush his glance brought to her cheeks.

“It would also cause a considerable stir among the Nursing Officers,” she said, trying to keep the conversation flippant.

Adam laughed but didn't reply, and the conversation lapsed once more. This time, however, Samantha was acutely conscious of the warmth transmitted by his body, which was so close to hers. The car they were using was a small Fiat, and Samantha was aware of the pleasant tingle the pressure of Adam's thighs against her own was causing. She could have tried to move away, but it would have been very noticeable, and anyway, she had to admit to herself, she was enjoying the closeness of his presence.

They parked the car near the harbor, which as usual was a hive of activity. A large cruise liner had come in and was anchored just a little way out in the deep water, the passengers being ferried ashore in a motorboat. They leaned together on the ancient stone wall of the harbor, watching the scene, the large white boat, lights sparkling in every porthole and fairy lights strung up along her decks.

“It looks so lovely,” said Samantha, staring at the white outline of the ship against the wine dark blue of the sea. “So romantic too.”

“What on earth is romantic about it?” demanded Adam. “It's just a ship with lights on.”

Samantha laughed. “You're typically male,” she said turning to him, “so practical and unromantic.”

“I wouldn't say that,” said Adam softly, putting an arm lightly around her shoulders. “I don't think the ship is particularly romantic, but I do think standing here with you is.”

Samantha felt her body go taut at his touch. She wanted so much to throw her arms around him, but she resisted, and it was with a sweet agony that she deliberately twisted herself out of reach of his arms and said coolly, “Shall we go into the town?”

“If you wish,” returned Adam, making no comment about the way she had evaded his embrace.

He took her elbow as they walked down the incline from the harbor towards the lights of the Liston, the touch of his hand pleasurably firm. Samantha didn't know what was holding her back—was it the fear of becoming too deeply involved with him and having her heart broken? Mentally, she gave herself a shake.
Don't be ridiculous,
she told herself,
for one thing there's no such thing as a broken heart, and for another, you like him too much already. So why not just enjoy his company, let the future take care of itself?
But even though she was trying to persuade herself to think in such a carefree fashion, the little nagging voice at the back of her mind was telling her that she was hoping for more than a casual affair from Adam, so why not stick to her principles.

“Penny for them,” said Adam as they started to walk through the arches of the Liston.

“I was just wondering about this place,” lied Samantha, indicating the arches of the building housing cafés and tavernas around them. “The architecture doesn't look at all Greek, it looks almost Italian.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Since when have you become passionately interested in architecture?” he teased.

Samantha blushed. He knew that her thoughts had not been on architecture, she was pretty sure of that, and she wondered if he had any inkling about what she had really been thinking.

She tilted her chin at him defiantly. “I've always been interested in architecture,” she said, daring him to tease her further.

“OK, I'll believe you, thousands wouldn't,” he rejoined laughingly. Then he said, “I'll tell you what we'll do, before we eat. We'll do as all the Corfiots do, we'll sit here under the arches, have a drink and watch the world and his wife go by.” His eyes had become dark pools of laughter, reassuring Samantha, who found herself smiling back at him.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” she agreed. “The problem is which café shall we choose?” Almost every archway under the Liston, as the huge building was called, was the entrance to a different café or taverna, and the proprietors or their waiters tried to persuade passersby to come into their own particular establishment.

Adam paused. “Let's sit where we can see most of what's going on,” he said, choosing one near the corner of the street. “Here we can see everyone walking in front of the cricket pitch, and also everyone passing up and down this little street.”

They settled themselves comfortably in big cane armchairs under the arches, all of which were dimly lit by old-fashioned chandeliers. The flickering light added an old-world charm and atmosphere.

“Did I hear you correctly?” asked Samantha. “You did say in front of the cricket pitch, didn't you?”

“Yes,” replied Adam. “Didn't you know, they play cricket here in Corfu. Very serious they are about it too.”

“But there's no grass,” protested Samantha, looking with amazement at the dusty site opposite, where about two or three blades of grass were struggling to survive.

“They use a matting wicket,” said Adam. “They have to, because grass just won't grow here in the summer. Cricket has been played in Corfu ever since the British occupied the place in 1800-and-something. You must ask Dennis about it, he knows the history of the island backwards. You mentioned about the architecture of this place.” He indicated the arches of the Liston. “I think I'm right in saying that this was built during the Venetian occupation of the island, or at least was influenced by that. But again, you must ask Dennis. He'd love to take you on a historical tour of the island.”

“Perhaps he'll be able to, after the baby is born,” said Samantha, looking around. “I have read a little about Corfu, but mostly about the really ancient history. I didn't realize that the more modern history was so interesting.”

Adam ordered their drinks. He had a beer and Samantha a dry martini, then they sat back to watch the people thronging the esplanade in front of the Liston.

They passed a fascinating half hour watching the world and his wife, as Adam had put it, go by. Samantha was amused to see the young girls pass by on one side of the road, wearing what were obviously their best clothes, trying to look as if they hadn't seen the admiring glances of the young men on the opposite side of the road.

Whole families seemed to come out in the evening to have a leisurely drink together. Everyone was there, from the babe in arms to the elderly grandma dressed in black from head to toe.

Adam glanced at his watch. “We'd better be going,” he said, finishing his beer. “I've booked a table.”

Taking Samantha's arm, he guided her across from the Liston down the side of the cricket pitch towards the other side of the harbor. The restaurant he had chosen was right on the water's edge in the harbor, there were tables inside or out, and as it was such a warm night they chose to sit outside. The water lapped only a few inches from their feet, and every now and then the quietness was broken by a splash, as a fish jumped to catch some unwary insect flitting across the surface of the sea.

Samantha looked at Adam, his face illuminated by the glow of the small lamp on the table, his rugged good looks emphasized by the dim light. He caught her gaze and smiled.

“What would they say at Princess Mary's,” he said, reaching across to take her hand, “if they could see us sitting here, having a romantic dinner for two?”

“They'd gossip,” laughed Samantha. “It would probably keep Jennie going for a week!”

“Yes, I can imagine,” said Adam wryly, “but we're a long way from Princess Mary's, so we can do as we like.” His gaze never left hers as he gently raised her hand to his lips and placed a warm kiss in the palm of her hand. “To our continuing friendship,” he said.

Prickles of fire ran up and down Samantha's spine, and her voice caught in her throat. One little kiss in the palm of her hand had her melting with desire. “To our continuing friendship,” she whispered back to him in a barely audible voice.

Luckily the waiter arrived at that point with a magnum of champagne in a bucket of ice.

“Oh, Adam, how extravagant!” exclaimed Samantha.

He grinned. “It isn't every night I take a beautiful woman out,” he said. “I thought we ought to get the evening off to a good start.”

The waiter made a great show of removing the cork with a flourish and a bang that had everyone else in the restaurant looking over to their table. Happily Samantha raised her glass and looked at Adam over the rim of the sparkling liquid; they clinked their glasses and each took a sip in silence.

When they had finally finished the meal and were leaving Samantha was amazed to see that three hours had elapsed. The time had gone so quickly, they had found so much of mutual interest to talk about that the conversation had never flagged. She had also found out that they thought alike on many things, and that Adam was not married and never had been. He made no secret of the fact that he would like to settle down at last, and that he would like a family. Samantha for her part found herself confessing to him that sometimes, when she was delivering other women's babies, she wondered if she would ever know that joy herself.

“But I thought you said you were a career girl,” he said, reminding her of her earlier remark.

“Yes,” admitted Samantha, “but that's because I've never yet met anyone I wanted to marry. I thought I had, but I was mistaken—I know that now.” Then so that he wouldn't misunderstand her she looked at him carefully and said, “And that's why in future I'm going to be very careful about who I get involved with. I don't want to make the same mistake twice.”

Adam did not reply, merely looked at her long and hard. Then he said as if dismissing the subject, “We'd better get the bill and be going. It's quite a long drive back to Paleokastritsa.”

Walking back in the darkness towards the harbor where the car was parked, Adam took hold of her arm, as if to steady her as they walked over the uneven cobbles. It had the reverse effect, for far from steadying her, she felt herself quivering with an emotion she recognized as raw desire. How was it that such a brief contact with him could set her aflame in a way no other man had been capable of doing? Determinedly she walked briskly along in the dark, determined not to let Adam see what havoc he was wreaking in her.

“Afraid of the dark?” came his slightly amused voice.

“No, of course not,” said Samantha in a cool voice that surprised herself by its control, “but you said yourself, it's a long way back to Paleokastritsa.”

“Did I?” He sounded almost absentminded. Surprised at his strange tone of voice, Samantha turned to look at him. She was just conscious of the lights of the cruise liner in the harbor as they turned the corner, before Adam drew her swiftly back into the shadows of the old castle wall to kiss her. His hand gently stroked the nape of her neck, his fingers moving slowly, sensuously, sending ice-shattering sensations up and down her spine. His mouth became hard and demanding and Samantha found herself arching towards him, responding with a wild passion to the desire his kiss inflamed.

With a muffled groan he pulled her closer towards him, flattening her body against his, his fingers splayed into the small of her back, molding her slenderness against his rock hardness.

“Oh, Samantha,” he breathed, “you're so very desirable.” As he muttered the words his mouth crazed a burning trail along her jawline, finally coming to rest in the madly pulsating hollow of her throat. Rapturously Samantha clung to him, all previous misgivings forgotten. A fragile happiness surrounded her like a bubble, she was afraid to speak unless it should burst. So she said nothing, just contented herself with running her hands slowly across his broad muscular back, holding him closer and closer to her as she kissed his neck. The taste of his skin was like nectar to her, the heat of his flesh burned her mouth; she felt that she was on the edge of discovery.

His mouth came back to her ear and he began running his tongue around, outlining its delicate shape. “I thought you were going to be very careful about who you got involved with,” he whispered.

“I was,” Samantha whispered back. “But I can't think straight when I'm in your arms.”