Authors: Unknown
Miranda had never before lost control of her body. It was a new experience to use it so blatantly, arching herself against the rock-hard strength of Theo, allowing him to probe the soft receptive moistness of her mouth. Her mind stood apart from all this, watching as if from a great height, scandalised by what it saw, but unable to do anything about it.
Arms of steel fastened about her, securing her soft pliant body, making sure there was no escape, even supposing she had wanted to. One hand moved to hold firm the back of her head, fingers sliding beneath the gossamer-light strands of her hair. The other moved with calculated expertise over the nakedness of her back.
Such was the power of him, Miranda felt as though he was branding her with a red-hot iron. From shoulder to hip he traced every curve, each bone in her spine, her smooth scented skin, slow inch by slow inch. Like a blind man he felt the shape of her, building up a physical picture as well as a visual one.
It did not occur to her to wonder why he was doing this, it was sufficient for the moment that he found her attractive enough to want to kiss her—and she could not deny that she found the experience exciting.
Without question it aroused in her a passion that had remained undiscovered during her marriage to Georgios. The eager pressure of his lips which moved sensually over hers, the strong arms moulding her to him, the fingertips creating sensations of their own, all these were intent on extracting an uninhibited response.
She clung unconsciously to him, running her fingers through the black wiriness of his hair, feeling the shape of his head, aware of the quickened heartbeat that throbbed against her breast.
This was not simply an experiment to test her reaction, or if it had been it was one no longer. Theo was as physically excited as she, enjoying the feel of their half-naked bodies together.
When he muttered,
‘Chryso mou,’
against her mouth she had no idea what it meant, but it sounded as though it might be something nice, so she moved against him, moaning softly as wave after wave of sheer erotic pleasure cascaded through her.
His mouth sought the delicate lobes of her ears, nibbling and kissing, creating fresh torrents of awareness. But it was not until his hand cupped her breast, sliding beneath the flimsy material that protected it, making her gasp with sheer unexpected pleasure, that she abruptly came to her senses.
For pity’s sake, what was she doing? Why was she letting this monster of a man maul her? And why, a more important question, had she enjoyed the experience? Could go on enjoying it if sanity had not come to her rescue.
‘You swine!’ The words were choked out of her. ‘You despicable swine! How dare you do this to me!’ Her cheeks felt inflamed, and she knew that her eyes would be very green, they always were when she was cross.
Humour softened for a brief moment the angular lines of his face as he dropped his hands and stood away from her. ‘You could have stopped me any time you wanted. You cannot accuse me of forcing myself on you. But as a matter of fact I did wonder how far you would let me go.’
Miranda glared, her shoulders hunched, arms crossed defensively over her chest. ‘And how far would you have gone, I wonder, if I hadn’t stopped you? What type of a man are you, to make love to your brother’s wife?’
‘If you were Georgios’s wife, I can’t say I would think much of you.’ He ran a comb through his hair, and no one looking at him would guess the emotions raging through him seconds earlier. ‘But as Georgios says you’re not, and he should know, you leave me in no doubt that you’re the gold-digger I suspected. One Alexidis is as good as another, is that it?’
‘Georgios is worth ten of you,’ she said crossly. ‘No way would I marry a man who’s so callous. You used me! You deliberately set out to see whether I would succumb. I think the whole set-up stinks!’
Theo eyed her frostily. ‘I would say that my brother is fortunate he is not married to a girl who gives her favours so freely. I can’t see you remaining faithful to any man for long.’
‘With swine like you around a girl doesn’t have much chance!’ Miranda snatched up the white dress she had worn earlier and struggled into it, keeping a wary eye on Theo, not altogether sure that he wouldn’t attack her again if she turned her back.
‘If a girl was happily married she wouldn’t look at another man. You’ve simply given me more proof that you’ve made up the whole story. I cannot see the point in you remaining. I shall have a word with my mother.’ He swung on his heel and left the room before Miranda could reply.
Not that she was unduly worried. She had a feeling that Mrs Alexidis was on her side. She was more disturbed by the events of the last few minutes. Going back over it in her mind she could not imagine why she had behaved so promiscuously.
She still felt vibrantly alive, her body pulsing with the aftermath of their lovemaking. Never before had she met a man who had the power to arouse her physically in such a short space of time. Despite her hatred she had responded eagerly, and now felt thoroughly ashamed.
Looking at herself in the dressing-table mirror she was shocked to see her inflamed cheeks and wide shining eyes. Her Ups were dark and soft, slightly swollen, her hair tousled. There was no mistaking the fact that she had been thoroughly kissed—and enjoyed every minute of it.
Impatiently she ran a comb through her hair. Please, Georgios, she prayed, come to your senses. Let us sort this whole disastrous affair out. She glanced at her watch. There was still another hour before dinner. Eleni had told her they did not eat early, usually about half past eight or even nine.
She would look for Georgios. It was worth a try. It would be agony sitting at the dinner-table otherwise, making polite conversation, being treated as a stranger by the man who had shared her bed for the last three months, who was the father of the baby growing inside her.
As soon as the thought occurred to her Miranda began her search. Not knowing where Georgios might be she strolled up and down corridors, looking into rooms where doors stood open, listening outside others, ready with the excuse that she was lost.
But she could not find him. He was not even out on the verandah, where evidence of her meal had been cleared away, cushions plumped on the cane chairs, everything ready for the next time it was used.
Miranda sat for a quiet moment going over the events of the day. So much had happened it was incredible. It seemed a lifetime since she had said goodbye to Sallianne and the children. Full of optimism, she had been. An optimism that had been rudely shattered by the two Alexidis brothers.
They had to be in collusion with each other. Georgios would never have done this to her if he had not been put up to it. What she could not understand was why, knowing his father’s unwritten rule, he had allowed himself to fall in love with her. But what hurt more than anything was that his love was not strong enough to withstand the opposition he had encountered when he got home.
Why had he let Theo dictate? The deed was done. He had married her, and in no circumstances was she going to let him get away. Not unless he told her himself that it was all over, that he had made a mistake and did not love her enough to spend the rest of his life with her.
While he maintained this unbelievable attitude there was hope. Once he allowed her to get through to him she was positive they could sort things out.
It was so beautiful here that if Georgios would rather this be their home she would willingly agree. If that was the solution to their problem it was a simple one. She had no ties to keep her in England. Georgios was her family, without him she had no one.
The gardens tempted her and she strolled across the velvet-smooth lawns, admiring flowerbeds that were a riot of colour. She found an orchard where orange and lemon trees were heavy with fruit, where pomegranates and figs rubbed shoulders beside them. Through a vine-covered arch hung with grapes she caught the shimmer of a pool.
She picked a tiny grape and popped it into her mouth. It was seedless and delicious, and she took another before making her way towards the water. Eleni had mentioned a pool, but the girl had chattered so much that Miranda had not taken in all that she said.
It was blue and tempting, but there was no time to enjoy it before dinner. She would leave that experience for another day.
The sun was low in the sky, and when she looked back towards the villa Miranda caught her breath. It was like a fairytale palace turned to gold, windows blinding her with their brilliance.
Once the sun had gone it grew dark quickly and she retraced her steps. It was darker than she imagined anywhere could be, with no lights spilling out from this side of the house, and the moon not yet making its appearance.
When she stumbled over the raised edge of a path she instinctively cried and put out her hands to break her fall. It was a shock when she encountered another body, but her alarm turned to pleasure when she realised it was her husband.
‘Georgios! Thank goodness it’s you!’ She flung her arms around his neck. ‘At last we can talk. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Doesn’t that odious brother of yours ever let you out of his sight?’
‘If it’s me you’re referring to, you’ve got the picture.’ The deeper tones of the man she disliked most in the world cut through the darkness. ‘Georgios and I were taking a stroll before dinner. If you don’t want to be late I suggest you return to your room and get changed.’
He emerged from behind a shrub, appearing like a shadow behind Georgios, their white shirts standing out in relief.
Miranda clenched her teeth and glared, then turned and marched back to the house. Hollow mocking laughter sounded in the blackness of the garden.
Miranda
came down to dinner to find them all waiting, Mrs Alexidis still in black, its severity relieved by a diamond necklace which caught and held the light from the lamp beneath which she sat, Eleni in a jade green skin-tight creation, her hair coiled elegantly, showing to perfection her slender neck. A pair of jade earrings hung from her ears, her only adornment. Simple yet stunning.
The two brothers were in evening dress, cream jackets, embroidered white silk shirts, black trousers.
Miranda felt out of place. She had realised when seeing their bow ties earlier that they dressed formally for dinner, but as she had brought no evening dresses with her she had put on a sundress in palest lavender with a floating skirt and a top that emphasised her high pointed breasts, fastening at the front with a row of tiny pearl buttons. It was one of her prettiest dresses, yet even so it could not match up to the elegance of the other ladies.
Without questioning what she would like to drink Theo poured her a glass of ouzo, adding water which turned the clear liquid milky. Miranda felt a tremor of awareness as he handed it to her. It would have been impossible to feel immune following the effect of his kiss. But as usual Theo’s expression was impassive.
The ouzo tasted like aniseed and looked innocuous, but Miranda sipped it warily, suspecting it had the kick of a mule. She needed to keep a clear head. Somehow before the evening was over she had to get Georgios alone.
Mrs Alexidis beckoned Miranda to sit on the couch beside her while they drank their aperitifs. ‘I am sorry Theodoros does not approve of you staying—I hope it will not spoil your pleasure.’
Miranda smiled and shook her head, taking this to mean that Theo had not got his own way. ‘I don’t think so. Besides, I understand from Eleni that he is in Athens a lot of the time.’
Her hostess nodded. ‘I’m relieved. He came to me and insisted you leave, but for once I did not allow my son to have his own way. I like you, Miss Martyn, and I am usually a pretty shrewd judge of character. Theodoros, however, suspects your motives. I am sorry about that, and I sincerely hope his distrust will not upset you.’
Miranda glanced across and found Theo watching them intently. He probably guessed they were talking about him, although it was difficult to know what he thought.
She turned back to Mrs Alexidis. ‘Theo doesn’t bother me. I’m here at your invitation and if you have no objection, then that’s all that matters. And please, Mrs Alexidis, call me Miranda.’ Miss Martyn no longer existed. If anything she was Mrs Alexidis too, though she knew the inadvisability of mentioning that—certainly not at this stage—and if Theo had anything to do with it—never.
Soon afterwards they moved through into the dining room where an oval rosewood table was set with gleaming silver, sparkling crystal and snow-white napkins. A central bowl of roses spilled their fragrance into the room, and on the outskirts of the circle of light coming from a pendant suspended low over the table, the dour Katie hovered.
Miranda contrived to sit next to Georgios, but somehow found herself between Theo and his mother. Her husband was on his mother’s other side, thus preventing any private conversation.
It was fast becoming an unreal situation. They were friendly enough, except for Theo, but the emphasis was always on the fact that she was a stranger in their midst. Even Georgios referred constantly to the quirk of fate that had brought her to their island.
He was attracted to her, there was no denying that, but he was seeing her through the eyes of a man who had met her for the first time today. How he managed to give such a creditable performance she had no idea.
‘I guess Spyros won’t be very pleased when he hears what you’ve done to his car,’ he laughed, ‘but I certainly wish I’d been the one to rescue you instead of Theo.’
‘So do I!’ said Miranda fervently; then perhaps they would have sorted things out before they got to this stage.
Her passionate response brought a frown to Mrs Alexidis’s brow and all eyes turned her way. She felt uneasy, even though she shouldn’t have done, because after all he was her husband.
Eleni giggled. Theo was distinctly unamused. His condemnation reached her without him speaking, coming across in cold shock-waves that made her shiver and edge slightly away. She had never met a man who could let you know exactly what he was thinking without saying a word.