Her Greek Groom: The Tycoon's Mistress / Smokescreen Marriage / His Forbidden Bride. Sara Craven
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said, ‘You must let me pay you for the trip.’
He sent her a quizzical look. ‘Did Yannis and Maria ask you to pay for the meal last night—or your room?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘They didn’t. But…’
‘And I am no different. There is no charge.’ And there was a note in his voice which told her not to argue.
She sat tensely in the bow as the caique pushed its way through the sparkling sunlit water. The faint early haze was clearing and it was going to be another scorching day, she thought, lifting her hair away from the nape of her neck.
Draco said from the tiller, ‘You are too warm? There is an awning…’
‘No, I’m fine,’ she assured him quickly. ‘It’s just so—beautiful.’
‘I think you are falling in love, agapi mou, with my country. You will never want to go home.’
She stared at the horizon. ‘I think my boss would have something to say about that.’
‘You are indispensable?’
‘Hardly. I don’t think anyone really is. We just fool ourselves, then we go, and our space is filled, and no one even remembers we were once there.’
‘That is a sad thought for such a lovely day,’ Draco said after a pause. ‘But you will be remembered always.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Ah, but you will,’ he said. ‘By your lover, for one—and your father, for another. And I—I will remember too.’
‘You will?’ She sent him a look of disbelief. ‘That’s nonsense.’
‘Of course I’ll remember. It is not every day I meet a girl with hair like the sun, and moonlight in her eyes, who is called Sid.’
Her heart twisted slowly and painfully. To cover the sudden emotion, she pulled a face. ‘I knew I’d regret mentioning that.’
‘There is nothing to regret. It is good that your father had this special name for you.’ He smiled at her. ‘Sometimes when I look at you I can see the little girl you were.’
Cressy turned away and stared at the sea. She said flatly, ‘She’s been gone a long time.’
‘You will find her again when you hold your own daughter in your arms.’
How simple he made it sound, Cressy thought, her throat aching. And how unlikely it really was.
She straightened her shoulders. ‘Alakos doesn’t seem to be coming any closer.’
He said, ‘I thought you would wish to pay a last visit to our beach.’
‘And I thought I’d made it clear I wanted to go straight back.’ There was sudden ice in her voice as she turned on him, but Draco did not appear chilled.
His eyes met hers steadily. ‘You offered to pay for your trip. This is the price—that you swim with me just once.’
She said acidly, ‘Dancing last night. Swimming today. Do you set up a full fitness programme for all your women?’
He spoke very quietly. ‘That is a suggestion that de-means us both. But if it is really what you think, then there is no more to be said.’
She watched him move the tiller, heading the caique out into the open sea.
Then she looked back at the horizon and found it suddenly blurred with unshed tears.
It was a miserably silent journey. To Cressy’s surprise, Draco avoided the main harbour and sailed round to the hotel’s private bay, bringing his craft skilfully alongside the small jetty.
In a subdued voice, she said, ‘I don’t think you’re meant to be here.’
He shrugged. ‘Does it matter? I shall soon be gone.’
His touch completely impersonal, he helped her ashore, and put her bag on the planking beside her.
She said in a sudden rush, ‘Draco—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean what I said. I—I don’t want us to part bad friends, but I’m just so confused. I can’t seem to get my head together…’
He nodded, but the bronze face showed no sign of softening.
‘Then start listening to your heart instead, Cressida. And when you do, you know where to find me.’ He pointed towards Myros. ‘I shall be there—waiting for you.’
She stood on the jetty and watched until the boat was a mere speck, but he never looked back.
Cressy jumped as the door to the visitors’ room opened and the consultant came in.
‘Miss Fielding.’ His handshake was limp for such an eminent man. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear that your father is making good progress. If it continues, we should be able to send him home next week.’
‘Oh.’ Cressy sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs. ‘Oh, that’s such a relief. And the operation?’
‘As soon as we consider he’s fit enough.’ The consultant looked vaguely round. ‘Is your mother not here? I should speak to her about his future care.’
Cressy said evenly, ‘My stepmother is—away.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Building up her strength to nurse the invalid at home, no doubt. Admirable.’
Cressida bent her head. ‘Now may I go back to my father, please?
‘You’re going to be all right, Dad,’ she whispered to the still figure in the bed. ‘Isn’t that wonderful news? I just wish you’d give some sign that you can hear me. Although I do understand that you’ve got to rest.
‘And I can work for you, Daddy. I can deal with the bank, and the mortgage company, and everyone. I can’t get your money back, but maybe I can stop you losing everything else. I’ll talk to them—I’ll make them listen. Because I need to work—to stop me from thinking. Remembering…’
In spite of the heat, she shivered.
She had gone straight up to the hotel, she recalled, and lain down on the bed in her air-conditioned room and stared up at the ceiling…
There was a vast, aching emptiness inside her. A trembling, frightened nothingness.
She thought, What am I doing? What have I done?
Draco’s face seemed to float above her, and she closed her eyes to shut him out. But she couldn’t dismiss her other senses so easily. Her skin burned as she remembered the sensuous pressure of his body against hers. She seemed to breathe the scent of him. To feel the brush of his lips on her flesh.
A little moan escaped her. She was consumed by bewildered longing, her body torn apart by physical needs that she’d never known before.
She twisted restlessly on the bed, trying to find peace and calm, but failing.
She got up and went out on to the balcony, but the indigo shimmer of Myros on the horizon drove her inside again.
She stayed in her room until midday, when she made herself go down and join the queue at the lavish buffet on the hotel’s terrace.
She’d never realised before how many couples seemed to be staying at the hotel, wandering around hand in hand, or with their arms round each other.
Making her blindingly—piercingly aware of her own isolation—her own loneliness.
Making her realise that she couldn’t bear it any longer. And that she didn’t have to—that she too could choose to be happy for a little while.
A few days—even a few hours, she thought. I’d settle for that. Whatever the ultimate cost.
She could tell