Dark Apollo Page 12

  'Don't talk like a fool,' he said with sudden brusqueness. 'You must believe me, Camilla. I did not intend this to happen.’

  'Oh, I do believe it.’ Fighting for control, she laced her tone with scorn. 'Two paternity suits in one family might be too much to handle, even for you.’

  'Is that all that concerns you?' His voice was very quiet. 'The legal—financial implications?’

  ‘What else is there?' She felt very weary sud­denly, and close to tears. 'That's what we came here to discuss in the first place.’ She buried her teeth in her lower lip. 'Until, of course, I let myself be so expertly side-tracked.'

  Nic reached for his own clothes, began to drag them on. 'Then perhaps all future dis­cussions should be conducted by our lawyers,' he said harshly. ‘Then there will be no danger of any - personal elements intruding.

  'Our lawyers'. Camilla found herself thinking numbly of elderly Cranshaw who had dealt so kindly with the aftermath of her parents' death. Was he up to the kind of hard-nosed legal battle which the Xandreou legal ex­perts could enforce? Somehow she didn't think so.

  Because she didn't yet know, of course, what had transpired at the Villa Apollo in their ab­sence. They were all taking it for granted that if Spiro regained his memory he would still want Katie and acknowledge his baby. But nothing was certain in this hideously shifting world. Maybe Nic's undoubted influence over his brother would prevail in the end after all. Spiro might well decide he could not afford to disregard his brother's plans for his future.

  I came here to help, she thought. And all I've managed to do is make everything a thousand times worse—not just for Katie, but for myself as well.

  The possibility of a future as a single mother was just too hideous to contemplate. But it was what she'd invited just the same.

  Just the touch of Nic's mouth on hers, the brush of his fingers on her skin, and all her resolve seemed to melt away in a need that transcended common sense and logic. And she would have to live with the consequences, whatever they were.

  Her life was in pieces, at any rate, she ac­knowledged with a kind of desperate clarity. Somehow she had to drag it into shape again. Dismiss this pitiful creature at the mercy of her own physicality. Find again the cool, sensible persona she'd once possessed.

  If I can, she thought sorrowfully. If that girl still exists. Or is she now, no more, no less, for better or worse, simply Xandreou's woman?

  The return trip was a silent one. Camilla sat in the bow, staring ahead of her. The sea had darkened into a faint swell, and the air seemed still and almost threatening—or was that merely the suggestion of her own inner tensions?

  She'd presumed that Nic would return her to the beach below the sea house, but instead he turned Calliope towards the landing stage below the Villa Apollo. She turned guestioningly, and saw him laying aside a pair of bin­oculars, his black brows drawn together in a frown.

  A tremor of apprehension crept down her spine. Peering ahead, she could just make out a figure on the landing stage, his arms semaphoring for attention.

  Yannis, she thought, swallowing. And no prizes for guessing the reason behind the frantic signals either. She straightened her shoulders, bracing herself mentally. Nic was angry enough he found out he'd been duped…

  Her heart was hammering. She found herself wordlessly begging Apollo the Healer to make it somehow all right.

  They arrived at the landing stage, Nic as the other man burst into a flood of excited Greek. Nic listened tautly, his mouth set in grim lines. When Yannis paused for breath, he nodded curtly, then turned and looked at Camilla, the dark eyes narrowed, his face harsh with silent accu­sation. Helplessly, she gazed back at him, trying not to let him see that she was shaking. He swung himself lithely on to the landing stage, and he and Yannis began to run up the sloping narrow path which led to the villa. Camilla had no choice but to follow. The leaves and twigs of unknown shrubs brushed her as she passed. Something with thorns caught her dress and she tore it free as she ran. In the dis­tance, she heard the first faint rumble of thunder.

  A storm, she thought, a bubble of hysteria welling up inside her. There was going to be a storm, and she needed to reach the villa before it broke. The path became steps, and she went up them, two at a time, breathless but driving herself on. There was a glimmer of turquoise ahead of her somewhere that she knew was the swimming-pool, and she pushed through the last of the encircling bushes, throat dry, heart hammering, hand pressed to the stitch in her side.

  The little tableau had been established on the terrace outside the saloni.

  Spiro was in a chair, his injured leg sup­ported by a stool. Katie stood beside him, her hand in his. It was as simple as that, but their tranquillity, their happiness, their sense of total belonging was almost tangible.

  Camilla halted, her throat tightening, tears stinging at her eyes. They looked so right together, she thought. Surely Nic would be able to see that, and forgive.

  But he didn't look particularly com­passionate, she saw with a pang. He was quietly, furiously angry, colour burning along his cheekbones, his mouth a straight line.

  He was a powerful man. His rage could be destructive, and Spiro and Katie were so young, so vulnerable. She wanted to get between them, to use herself as a shield.

  He said softly in English, 'So, little brother, your memory has returned. God be thanked.'

  ‘Yes.' Spiro spoke in the same language. 'And, with Providence, you must also thank Katie, who is soon to be my wife.’ The words were calm, measured. He lifted Katie's hand and pressed it to his cheek in a gesture of tender possession, then gave Nic a level look. ‘I hope, Nicos, our marriage will have your blessing, but I must warn you it will happen anyway, whatever youd decide.’

  ‘Then you have not recovered your senses along with your memory. A pity.' Nic's voice was harsh.

  ‘Nic.' Arianna, who had been standing in the shadow by the long windows with Deroulades, and an anxious Eleni, interposed herself. 'Katie has given Spiro back to us—like a miracle. You must accept their love, approve it—welcome Katie to our family.’

  'Be silent.’ He didn't even look at her. 'Go to your room, Arianna. I shall not forget your part in this. Or yours, Petros.’ he added as Arianna, unwontedly subdued, turned away into the house, her fist pressed to her mouth.

  The doctor said quietly, ‘That was a risk I had to take for Spiro's sake. I must always think it was worth it. And now your brother should rest.’

  Nic's body was taut as a bowstring. 'Of course.' He looked at Katie. 'Yannis will drive you back to the sea house, thespinis. You— and your sister.’

  Spiro shook his head, his tone suddenly fierce. ‘Katie stays here. My mistake was ever to allow her out of my sight.’

  'And my error was to allow you out of mine.’ The retort was hard, but Nic walked over to bending to draw his brother into a fierce embrace. For a long moment they held each other in silence.

  Camilla found herself choking back a sob. Over the sea a streak of fire forked through the darkening sky, to be followed almost at once by an ominous growl.

  She watched Spiro helped up on to his crutches, Katie assisting, her young face furrowed in concern, as the small procession wended its way into the villa.

  Leaving her alone with Nic in the gathering storm.

  'Quite a conspiracy.’ His tone was decep­tively laconic. The hooded eyes told her nothing. 'Was anyone not involved, I wonder, apart from Yannis and Eleni?'

  She touched her tongue to her dry lips. ‘I - I didn't want to deceive you, but there seemed no other way to give Katie and Spiro their chance.’

  ‘And I played right into your beguiling hands,’ he said softly, his mouth curling in contempt. 'My congratulations. You were most—convincing in your efforts to hold my attention—even to making the ultimate sac­rifice.’ He shook his head in cynical won­derment. 'Can sisterly devotion ever ask more?' His voice cut her like a whip. She flinched and stepped back.

  'It wasn't like that. You know that.�
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  'No?' His brows lifted. 'Then tell me how it was, honey girl, with your saint's eyes and sinner's body.’

  I loved you, she thought. I wanted to make up to you for all the pain—all the loneliness. And now I've brought it all down on myself instead, because I can't tell you.

  'Well?' he said too gently. 'I am waiting.’

  Camilla bit her lip. 'You talk as if I planned it somehow…’ She stopped abruptly, colour rushing into her face as she realised he was laughing soundlessly.

  'No, no, agape mou. You forget. That was what you accused me of doing. Quite a master­stroke, all that injured, ruined innocence. The seducer reproached by his victim.’ His voice deepened in harsh mockery. 'A second ac­complished actress to add to my collection, and I never guessed.’

  Another lightning flash flickered in the sky, the accompanying thunder closer, louder.

  'I wondered what you were hiding from me, matia mou,’ the relentless voice went on. 'And now I know—the corruption behind the mask of virtue. The lies behind the appearance of candour. No wonder you didn't want me to look into your eyes.’

  The sky was pressing down on her. The air felt thick, making it difficult to breathe.

  She saw that Yannis had returned, and was waiting, hands on hips, for Nic's orders. Orders that would take her back to the sea house and away from him forever.

  Here, she thought unsteadily, here, where it had begun, was where it would end in acrimony, bitterness and misunderstanding. The wheel had come full circle.

  She said huskily, 'You must believe what you want. I thought I was acting for the best. And please don't punish Katie for my mistakes. Just remember—she reached for Spiro across the abyss—and brought him to safety.’

  She turned and walked away, moving almost blindly, as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall.

  Camilla folded a white cotton shirt and laid it on top of her case then glanced round the room, checking the empty cupboards and drawers. But no trace of her brief occupation remained.

  It was very quiet in the sea house. Soula had gone to visit her sister in a neighbouring village, and Yannis was driving Katie and Spiro into the mountains for dinner at a romantically remote tavern.

  'Come with us.’ Katie had urged. 'Darling, you can't spend your last evening on your own.’

  'Oh, but I can.' Camilla had smiled at her. ‘I’ve no intention, my pet, of playing goose­berry. Anyway, I've far too much to do this evening. I'm catching the early ferry, remember.'

  In spite of Katie's protests, Camilla had in­sisted on returning to England before the wedding.

  'I can't try Strathmore's patience any further,' she'd said. 'I need that job. And anyway, now that Spiro's hopping around on crutches, you'll be off to the mainland to meet the rest of the Xandreou clan.'

  'Yes.’ Katie had grimaced slightly. The aunts in the Peloponnese sound a bit formidable.'

  'You'll have them eating out of your hand in no time,' Camilla had reassured her. ‘Then, before you know it, you'll be married.’

  But for all her brave words, the last thing in the world she'd wanted was her own company tonight. But making a third with Katie and Spiro, being on the edge of their coruscating happiness, was more than she could handle, she thought wretchedly.

  It had undoubtedly been the worst week of her life.

  She'd returned to the sea house on the night of the storm, wandering through the rooms, unable to sleep, or even relax, while it raged itself out.

  She'd been hollow-eyed and on edge, in con­trast to the calm serenity of the following morning, hoping and praying for some message from Nic. But there had been nothing.

  The things he'd said, the way he'd looked at her with such contempt, seemed to be seared across her consciousness.

  It had been almost a relief to hear from Arianna that he'd gone to Athens.

  'And I hope his Zoe puts him in a better temper.’ she'd added sourly. 'He is still barely speaking to me. Of course he is pleased about Spiro, but he cannot bear to be wrong.'

  ‘I shouldn't imagine it happens very often,' Camilla had said drily, biting her lip until she tasted blood as an image of Nic, naked with a sinuous Greek beauty in his arms, had im­pinged on her imagination.

  'Oh, well.’ Arianna had shrugged. 'He will come round.’

  Camilla had decided she wouldn't hold her breath waiting for it to happen. Nic would never appreciate being made a fool of, but that had seemed a risk worth taking in the cir­cumstances. What he would find impossible to forgive, however, was the belief that she had duped him sexually. Used her body as bait as she got him to confide in her about his relationship with Rachelle.

  He opened the door to me on his private nightmare, she thought desolately. He'll hate me for that.

  Once, in those first hopeful days, she'd seen Calliope in the bay, under sail, and had thought for a few heart-stopping moments that she was heading for the sea house, only to watch the caique's tan sail disappear round the headland, and out of sight.

  She wondered if she would manage to find the emotional strength to come back for the wedding, once the break with Karthos had been made. Maybe by then she'd have pulled her life together—stopped hurting quite so much, she thought. Although that would largely depend on whether or not she was expecting Nic's baby, she reminded herself unhappily.

  She looked at herself in the mirror, noting almost objectively her shadowed eyes and the hollows beneath her cheekbones.

  No doubt about it, Dryden, you're an all-round mess, she told herself.

  The sudden bang of the main door made her jump. She heard the click of heels across the tiles, then the door of her room crashed open and Arianna stood there, dishevelled and out of breath.

  'Camilla.’ Her voice was almost hysterical. 'You must help me—save me from Nicos.'

  And she burst into tears.

  'What are you talking about?' Camilla looked past her, half expecting to see a vengeful Nic close on her heels.

  'Nicos came back from Athens an hour ago—perhaps more,' Arianna vouchsafed be­tween sobs. 'He was quiet—strange. He sent for me—told me that when Katie goes to the Peloponnese I must accompany her—and stay there with our aunts until my own marriage has been arranged.'

  Her pretty face was haggard. 'I argued with him—but he would not listen. And I shall die in the Peloponnese, Indeed, I would rather be dead than marry some stranger he has chosen for me.’

  Camilla groaned inwardly. 'You know you don't mean that.'

  1 do. Without Petros, my life is nothing. And Nicos means to send him away—to ruin him for disobeying his wishes over Spiro.'

  'I'm sure he didn't mean that.’

  Somehow, Camilla got the near-hysterical girl into the kitchen and coaxed her to drink some coffee.

  'You don't know.’ Arianna said, blotting her face with a handful of tissues. 'Nicos is hard— like a rock—like ice.' She looked pleadingly at Camilla. 'So you will help us, ne?’

  ‘I think I'm the last person your brother would listen to.’ Camilla said with a sigh.

  'Not that—not talking.’ Arianna said im­patiently. 'I want to leave Karthos—to go to England with you, Camilla. Later, Petros can come for me there, and we will be married. And I will never see my brother again.'

  Camilla put her cup down with care. ‘I don’t believe you've thought this through,’ she said. ‘For one thing I leave in the morning...'

  'I know that.' Arianna tapped her soft leather shoulder-bag. 'I have my passport, also money. No problem.'

  'There's the small matter of a seat on the plane.’ Camilla reminded her drily.

  Arianna gave her a haughty look. 'I am a Xandreou, They will make room for me.'

  And I'll be the one left standing on the tarmac, Camilla thought.

  'What are your plans if you get to England?'

  'I shall stay with you.’ Arianna said promptly. 'You can hide me when Nicos comes to search for me—as he will.'

  It sounded like a scenario for a nightmare.


  'You realise he'll be worried sick as well as damned angry,' Camilla said curtly. 'You can't treat him like this.' She took a breath. 'Go back and talk to him, Arianna. Tell him how un­happy you are, and why. You may find he understands better than you think. But con­frontation won't help, and neither will running away.'

  Arianna bounced to her feet. 'You're saying you won't help?'

  'It wouldn't be any use to do what you're asking. I'd just make matters worse, and I've done enough of that already.' Camilla kept her voice steady. 'I really think you should go back to the Villa Apollo.’

  'Never,' Arianna flared. 'He would lock me in my room until we left for the mainland,'

  It occurred to Camilla that Nic might have a point. 'Does he know where you are now?'

  'No, of course not,' Arianna said scathingly. 'He will not know I am gone until tomorrow.'

  ‘Then go back the way you came—and sleep on it,' Camilla urged. 'You'll both have calmed down tomorrow, and feel more prepared to be reasonable.’

  ‘Ochi.’ The Greek girl's face was stormy. 'If you will not help, I make my own way, and to hell for you.'

  'With you,' Camilla corrected automati­cally, and with one last furious glare Arianna whirled out of the kitchen.

  Camilla chased after her. 'Where are you going?'

  'Away, now—tonight,' the other flung over her shoulder. 'Where no one will find me.'

  'Please speak to Nic first.’ Camilla ap­pealed. 'Or I will.'

  'I don't think so.' Arianna was triumphant. 'There's no telephone here, and you don't have a car. It's a very long walk, I think, and by the time you get there I will be gone—forever.'

  'Damnation.’ Camilla exploded in frus­tration as Arianna drove off.

  She should have stopped her somehow, and she knew it. Arianna was quite capable of driving to the port and catching the last ferry to Zakynthos, from which there'd be regular flights all over Europe. It would be all too easy for her to disappear.

  She felt cold suddenly. Arianna might be spoiled and wilful, but she'd led a sheltered life, and that, coupled with her beauty, made her vulnerable.