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  She said huskily, 'You mean while Spiro re­covers. But he isn't that badly hurt, and Katie will want to help look after him.’

  'Her services will not be necessary.’ He did not look at her. His attention appeared to be concentrated on the corkscrew road they were descending.

  'That's not for you to say.’ Camilla kept her tone level. 'You seem to have forgotten that she and Spiro are engaged to be married…’

  'I have sanctioned no such engagement,’ he returned harshly. 'Nor shall I. It is you that has the poor memory, thespinis. We have re­solved the mistaken identities, perhaps, but nothing else has changed, believe me.’

  'What do you mean?'

  His fingers beat an irritable tattoo on the wheel. 'I thought I had made it clear. I do not accept that your sister or her unborn child has any claim on my family. A girl who is overgenerous with her favours before marriage must accept the consequences,' he added damningly.

  'While the man escapes scot-free?' Camilla drew a deep, angry breath. 'What a wonderful double standard.'

  Nic Xandreou hunched a shoulder. 'Spiro is young,’ he said flatly. 'I will not allow him to ruin his future for one foolish lapse.'

  ‘And what about Katie's future?'

  'Your sister is clearly a clever young woman. She'll make out.'

  'But you can't dismiss it like that.’ Camilla's heart was hammering sickly and painfully. 'They're in love.'

  His mouth twisted cynically. 'The first of many times for them both, I have no doubt.'

  For Spire, perhaps, she thought, hating him—hating all the lordly Xandreou males. But not steadfast Katie. She had chosen her mate and given her heart. A rejection like this could scar her for life.

  She drew an unsteady breath. 4Has Spiro himself no say in all this?'

  He paused. (He knows he has been at fault.’ he said. 'I am the head of our family, and ul­timately he will do as he is told.’

  'A life sentence.’ Camilla's tone was biting.

  Nic Xandreou shrugged again. 'I have my own plans for Spiro,' he retorted. 'They do not include your sister, thespinis.'

  'An arranged marriage, no doubt.’ It was chilling to have her original fears confirmed.

  'A marriage, certainly, based on proper foundations, with real values and a shared culture.’ His profile looked as if it had been cast in bronze. 'Spiro will be a wealthy man one day. He will not throw himself away on the first pretty face to catch his eye.’

  'So, if Katie were rich, it would be a dif­ferent story,’ Camilla said bitterly.

  'I did not say so. Spiro's wife should, firstly, be a woman of discretion.’

  She bit her lip. 'People in love don't always behave very sensibly. Haven't you ever fallen head over heels for someone, Xandreou? Or are you like that bronze statue at the villa-all surface glamour but no heart?'

  'You presume altogether too much, thes­pinis.’ His voice was ice. 'And my emotions are not at issue.’

  'But they must meet—to talk about the baby. You can't prevent their seeing each other for that.’ Camilla said desperately.

  'There would be no point.’

  'That's just your opinion. Spiro may have other ideas,’ she said tautly. 'Katie certainly will.’

  'The matter is not open to discussion. You serve no purpose by remaining on Karthos, thespinis, neither you nor your sister. Go back where you belong.’

  'Not until Katie has seen Spiro,’ she flung back at him. 'You have no right to keep them apart in this high-handed way. I can under­stand now why "tyrant" is a Greek word,’ she added angrily.

  The first buildings of Karthos town were be­ginning to line the road.

  'We will not discuss my rights, if you please,' Nic Xandreou said coldly, 'or call me names. Spiro has no wish to see your sister. In fact, he doesn't even remember her name, or that she ever existed.'

  'I don't believe that.’ Her voice shook. 'You're just afraid to let them meet each other again. You don't want to lose your influence over Spiro—or let him lead his own life.’

  'They could meet a dozen times, I promise you, and it would make no difference.' Nic Xandreou swung the Jeep into the square and brought it to an abrupt halt outside the hotel.

  'Why should I listen to any promise of yours—or anything you say, for that matter?' Camilla found die passenger door being wrenched open, and herself being lifted down to the narrow pavement.

  "Because that bump on the head has given Spiro amnesia, thespinis.’ His hands were hard on her shoulders. The dark eyes glittered down at her. 'He remembers nothing and no one before the accident. Are you satisfied now?'

  'Oh, no.' Camilla lifted a distressed hand to her mouth, her hazel eyes enormous suddenly. 'It can't be true.’

  'You think I would lie about something so serious?' His voice rasped.

  'No.’ She shook her head. 'Oh, God, poor boy. What are we going to do?'

  'You will do nothing,' he said. 'I shall nurse my brother back to health and strength alone.'

  'That's what you think.’ Camilla tensed with new purpose. 'I won't allow you to dismiss Katie from his life like this.’

  He said, 'You think to dictate to me, thes­pinis? A woman, to impose her will on Nic Xandreou?' He laughed harshly. 'Never.’

  His hands tightened, and he jerked her towards him. Camilla's swift yelp of pain as he touched her grazed arm was as suddenly silenced by the forceful pressure of his mouth on hers.

  She felt the cruel dazzle of the sun on her face, beating against her closed eyelids, as his kiss deepened, taking control, teasing her lips apart to admit the invasion of his tongue.

  Her breasts were crushed achingly against his chest. She recognised the taut muscularity of the body pressed against hers with every fibre of her being—as if she'd always known in some secret recess of her soul exactly what it would be like to be in Nic Xandreou's arms. As if she'd been born for this moment alone...

  Then, with the same suddenness, she was free. He was breathing unevenly, the dark gaze that burned into hers as hot and relentless as the Greek sun.

  He said harshly, 'Don't cross me again, Camilla Dryden—if you know what is good for you.’

  He swung himself lithely back into the Jeep, and drove off, leaving her staring after him, a hand pressed in disbelief to her ravaged mouth.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  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 skins 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 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 axe 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 ar­d 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 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 in­to 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 th
e 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 it every shade from crimson and deep cooper 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.’