His Virgin Mistress Part 14

'What is there about that sentence you do not under stand?'

Olivia enquired coldly. 'Read my lips, Demetri. Joanna is not at the villa. She has gone back to London.'

Demetri mentally shook himself. Joanna had gone back to London? He couldn't believe it. 'When? When did she leave?'

Olivia shrugged. 'Three days ago.'

Demetri blinked. 'But she has phoned every day.'

'I imagine the telecommunications system in England is just as efficient as ours,' said Olivia dismissively, and he felt a violent urge to shake her, too.

Stepping close to her, he said malevolently, 'Am I to understand that you are responsible for her departure?'

For the first time, Olivia looked a little uneasy. 'So-so what if I am?' she asked defensively. 'It is surely what you would have done if you had not been here with our father.'

Demetri scowled, 'If you think that, Olivia, why are you looking so uncertain now?' He was amazed at how furious he felt that she should have done this. 'You-' He heard a faint tremor in his voice and determinedly suppressed it. 'You-had no right!'

'I had every right,' retorted Olivia indignantly. 'You know she was to blame for Papa's relapse. If she hadn't been making-unreasonable demands on his strength, he would not have been so weak when-'

'She was not his mistress!' snarled Demetri, stung into the involuntary admission, and Olivia's hands dropped to her sides.

'Not his mistress?' she echoed faintly. Then, more cer tainly, 'How do you know?'

How did he know?

Demetri returned her gaze with a flat stare. 'I just do,' he said at last, not prepared to lie even to save himself.

Olivia's lips parted. 'Papa told you?' she prompted.

'No.' Demetri spoke dispa.s.sionately. 'Papa did not tell me.'

'You do not mean to say that you believe her lies?' his sister cried scornfully. 'Demetri-'

'Joanna did not lie. Nor did she have to tell me anything,' he grated, through his teeth. 'Do I need to draw a picture?'

Olivia clapped her hands to her cheeks. 'You-you- Oh, I do not believe this.' She took a step back from him, her eyes wide with dismay. 'You-you had s.e.x with her?' She seemed to take his silence as an answer. 'Then surely that only proves the kind of woman she is.'

'She was a virgin, Olivia,' Demetri told her harshly. 'Yes, a virgin.' This as Olivia tried to speak. 'So when you next feel the need to vilify Joanna, I think you should beware of what you say.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

The light was flas.h.i.+ng on the answering machine when Joanna got home from work. Her heart skipped a nervous beat. She'd left her number with the hospital in Athens, asking them to let her know if there was any change in Constantine's condition. The few friends she had usually called in the evenings, so who else could it be?

She hurried across the small living room of the apartment and pressed the 'play' b.u.t.ton. Then she waited, praying that it wasn't bad news. She didn't think she could take any more bad news right now.

It wasn't the hospital. The voice issuing from the recorder was far too familiar, and she missed the start of the message as she groped for the arm of the nearest chair and sank down onto it. Her legs were shaking as she wondered with a feel ing of dismay if Constantine had died. It was the only reason she could think of why Demetri might be phoning her.

'-sister told me how it was,' he was saying, his voice clipped but not unfriendly. 'No matter. My father is asking for you. We would all be very grateful if you could arrange to return to Greece immediately.'

The message cut off and Joanna sat staring at the light that was still flas.h.i.+ng for several seconds before switching it off.

Then, panicking because she hadn't heard the entire message, she pressed the wrong b.u.t.ton and had to sit through half a dozen old messages before hearing Demetri's voice again.

She hadn't missed much. Just, 'Joanna,' and. 'I'm sorry you felt you had to return to England.' She'd tuned in at the point when he'd been saying that his sister had told him how it was, and Joanna pulled a wry face. Knowing Olivia as she did, she doubted she'd been completely honest about their encounter. The Greek girl had been very unpleasant, accusing Joanna of endangering her father's life and order ing her to leave the villa.

Nevertheless, the import of Demetri's message was clear.

Constantine wanted to see her and, willing or not, Olivia was being forced to eat her words.

Joanna drew a trembling breath. It wasn't Olivia's reac tion that troubled her. If even the sound of his voice could make her legs weak, how on earth was she going to meet Demetri again and behave as if nothing had changed? Because of course it had.

For her, at least. Nothing in her life was ever going to be the same again.

In fact, that was why she hadn't taken a stand against Olivia.

Spiro, who had been given the task of seeing Joanna off the island, had urged her to wait until Demetri got back. He'd insisted that he was in touch with Demetri every day and that his employer wouldn't be pleased if she returned to London.

But Joanna had insisted on leaving. A small private plane had flown her to Athens, and she'd boarded the London flight there.

In a matter of hours after Constantine's collapse she'd been back in her own apartment. If it hadn't been for the rack of totally unsuitable clothes hanging in her ward robe she might have been able to convince herself that it had all been a bad dream.

Right.

She pulled a wry face. The chance of her being able to put what had happened out of her mind wasn't even an option. The memories were far too real, far too acute. She was never going to be able to forget what had happened. She wasn't sure she even wanted to.

Which was crazy, she knew. Oh, Demetri might have felt some remorse at having misjudged her so completely, but she wasn't fool enough to think that that pa.s.sionate interlude in her bedroom had meant anything to him. He'd wanted her. He'd told her that. But wanting didn't equal loving, and nothing that had happened between them was going to make the slightest difference to the plans he had for his future. Even Constantine had made it perfectly clear that he ex pected his son to marry a woman of his own nationality.

Marry!

Joanna caught her breath. Now where had that come from?

She must be going senile if she was a.s.sociating a s.e.xual affair with marriage. As far as she knew Demetri was in no hurry to marry anyone, but when he did decide to make that kind of commitment he would make sure the woman he chose was completely without a flaw. Certainly not someone who had already been dismissed as his father's mistress.

She sighed, not at all sure what she was going to do. She wanted to see Constantine again; of course she did. She would do anything for the man who had been like a father to her; who had been there for her when she'd needed him; who had helped her to get her divorce from Richard. Without him she might still have been married to that creep; might still have been finding excuses why she shouldn't tell his parents what he was really like.

Her a.s.sociation with Constantine had had such an un likely beginning, she reflected now. When her boss, Martin Scott, had asked her to deliver a Faberge snuffbox to one of their most important clients at the Grosvenor Park Hotel, she'd had no idea that she and Constantine would become such friends. But the Greek tyc.o.o.n had taken an immediate liking to the shy English girl, and although it had taken many months and many more deliveries to his hotel for them to get to know one another, they had gradually become close.

Maybe Constantine had guessed how unhappy she was, Joanna mused, walking into the neat kitchen that adjoined the living s.p.a.ce. Or maybe she had just needed someone to talk to, someone who could give her an objective opinion of what had been going on.

In any event, it was to Constantine she had confessed the travesty of her marriage, Constantine who had offered the advice that she should cut her losses and start again.

But that had been easier said than done. Richard had been a master manipulator, and for a long time he had controlled her with threats of what he would do if she left him.

He must have really believed she would never leave him, she thought, carrying the kettle to the sink and filling it from the tap.

He must have convinced himself that she was too submissive, too scared to break out on her own. She doubted he would otherwise have dared to bring a string of strange men to their apartment, leaving her alone with them, hoping that she would find one of them attractive enough to go to bed with...

Joanna s.h.i.+vered. Richard had been wrong. With Constantine's support she had gone to see a solicitor and in a short s.p.a.ce of time she had moved out of the apartment.

Through all the murky days that had followed he had been there for her; the days when Richard's parents had accused her of ruining their son's life. And when she'd finally got her divorce it had been Constantine who had warned Richard not to try and see her again. Constantine who had shared her feelings of sadness and relief that it was over.

Now she looked about her a little uncertainly. Going out to Greece again would mean that she would have to behave as if nothing had happened between her and Demetri, and that wouldn't be easy. No matter how often she'd told her self that she should put it all down to experience, she wasn't that kind of woman. She could never have gone to bed with Demetri without having feelings for him. Feelings she'd fought, goodness knew, but which had only become stronger since her return.

She stood staring out of the window at the darkening street below as the kettle boiled. A row of pots stood on the windowsill, the flowering plants they contained giving a warmth and personality to the small room. Copper pans, hanging above a centre island, were reflected in the tiled walls, but Joanna was in no mood to appreciate the home she'd made for herself at the moment.

What should she do? It was possible that Constantine was worse and that that was why they'd been forced to send for her.

She'd phoned the hospital in Athens that morning and been told he'd had a comfortable night, but how reliable was that? She wasn't a member of his family. Any private information would be reserved for the Kastros. They could tell her anything and she'd be none the wiser.

The kettle boiled and she made herself a pot of tea. She had planned on sending out for pizza later, if she was hun gry, but now the idea of food choked her. What was she going to do?

Less than forty-eight hours later, Joanna was getting out of a taxi at the imposing entrance to the Oceanis Hospital just a short distance from Athens.

She'd taken that morning's flight from London and checked into a small hotel not far from the Plaka before ordering a taxi to bring her here. She'd wanted to have her own base, somewhere she could escape to if things proved too difficult for her. She didn't want to be dependent on the Kastros for anything.

She hadn't tried to get in touch with Demetri. She'd had enough to do, she excused herself. It hadn't been easy get ting leave of absence from her job. She'd just returned from a fortnight's holiday, after all. Then there'd been her apart ment to see to. She'd had to arrange for an elderly neighbour to water the plants and take in any mail. Besides, she'd decided that as it was Constantine who had sent for her it was he, and only he, she owed any explanations to. Not that she intended to tell him anything that would upset him. He'd never hear the real reason why she'd returned to England. She was certain of that.

Automatic gla.s.s doors gave access to a marble and gla.s.s entrance hall, and Joanna approached the reception desk with some trepidation. What if Demetri wasn't here to vouch for her?

she worried belatedly. She was loath to involve him, but if they refused to let her see his father she'd have to. She didn't consider Olivia. If she had her way, Joanna guessed she would be on the next plane home.

To her relief, the receptionist spoke English.

'Mrs Manning?' she queried, consulting a ledger lying on the desk in front of her. 'And you are a friend of Mr Kastro's, ne?''

'Ne-I mean, yes.' Joanna felt awkward. 'I think you'll find he's been asking to see me.'

'Psemata!' Joanna didn't have to understand the language to see that this glamorous young woman's raised brows and the pencil tapping thoughtfully against immaculate white teeth indicated some doubt with that a.s.sertion, 'I regret only family members are permitted to visit Mr Kastro, Mrs Manning.'

'Nevertheless-'

'I am sorry.' The woman seemed genuinely regretful now, but Joanna guessed she'd been tutored in polite refusals. If Constantine was a patient here, it followed that this was no ordinary hospital. Its staff must be used to dealing with un- welcome visitors. The media, for example. 'I cannot help you.

Mrs Manning.'

Joanna heaved a breath. 'Mr Demetrios Kastro, then,' she said quickly, before she could regret the words. 'Perhaps you could tell him I'm here.'

The receptionist regarded her a little impatiently now. 'Mrs Manning-'

'You don't understand.' Joanna was getting frantic, 'I re ally am a friend of Mr Constantine Kastro. Ask-ask any of his family.'

The sudden presence of a man at her elbow startled her. For a moment she thought Demetri had heard she was here and had come to her rescue, but the man standing beside her was a stranger to her. He was also wearing a uniform that Joanna recognised as matching that worn by the receptionist, but the bulge beneath the left side of his jacket was definitely different.

And scary.

'Apo etho ineh, kiria,' he said, gesturing towards the gla.s.s doors, and Joanna realised he was asking her to leave.

'You don't understand-' she began again, but it was too late.

The man had placed his hand beneath her elbow and was gently but firmly drawing her away from the desk.

She was going to have to leave, she thought unhappily. She would have go to back to her hotel and phone the hos pital from there. Perhaps she'd have more luck if she warned them she was coming. Surely someone must know about Demetri's call.

They had reached the doors when they opened to admit another visitor. The man-security guard?-who was es corting Joanna drew her aside to allow the woman to pa.s.s. But, to the surprise of both of them, she stopped.

'Mrs Manning,' she said, her dark eyes widening in sur prise.

' Theos, what are you doing? Where are you going?'

Olivia! Joanna's spirits plummeted still further. Of all the people to see, it had to be Olivia. The person least likely to do anything to help her.

Olivia's greeting had activated a totally different reaction, however. The security guard had now dropped his hand from her arm and the receptionist, who only moments before had been telling Joanna there was nothing she could do, now came fluttering nervously across the marble floor.

'Oh, Kiria Kastro,' she exclaimed, but that was as much as Joanna could understand. The rest was an unintelligible gabble, even if the gist was fairly plain. She was gesturing agitatedly towards Joanna, and she wondered if the girl was blaming her because they'd been on the point of rejecting her. Whatever, as soon as Olivia could get a word in, Joanna had no doubt she'd be on her way again, albeit without an escort this time.

'Stamateo! That is enough.' To Joanna's amazement, Olivia stopped the receptionist's tirade with an impatient exclamation.

Then, speaking in English for Joanna's benefit, she went on, 'Are you saying you have not informed my brother that Mrs Manning is here?'

'Kiria Kastro-'

'I will take that as a no, shall I?' Olivia had the enviable knack of reducing the most voluble protest to nothing. She glanced about her impatiently, ignoring the imploring ges tures the other woman was making. Then, turning to Joanna, 'I am sorry about this, Mrs Manning. I felt sure Demetri would have left instructions for you to be taken up to my father's suite as soon as you arrived.'

Joanna was taken aback. The last thing she'd expected was that Olivia would want her here. 'I-he didn't know I was coming,' she admitted awkwardly, 'I-just booked a ticket and came.'

'Okhi!' Olivia was looking concerned now. 'So-you have not spoken to my brother?'

'No.' Joanna didn't understand her agitation. 'Does it matter?'

'It may.' Olivia heaved a sigh, 'If Demetri has already left for the airport.'

Joanna didn't know whether to feel glad or sorry. If Demetri wasn't here, her fears of seeing him again would be removed. She might even be able to return to London without ever exchanging a word with him. It was obvious he'd told Olivia that he'd tried to contact her, which surely proved he felt no guilt over what he'd done. She was just a necessary enc.u.mbrance; someone his father had become attached to but who would be quickly forgotten once the old man was dead.

Dead!

Joanna s.h.i.+vered again. Constantine dead. She couldn't bear to think about that.

'Demetri was intending to fly to England this evening.'

Joanna realised Olivia was still speaking, and struggled to comprehend what she was saying. 'To-to England?' she echoed, realising she was making no contribution to this conversation, 'I didn't know that.'