His Virgin Mistress Part 5

She closed the door behind her, mostly to prevent the uneasy sense that Philip was peering over her shoulder, and approached the bed. Constantine had his eyes closed, but as she looked down at him they opened, and she took an in voluntary step backwards, ashamed to admit that she'd al lowed the manservant's words to spook her.

'Hi.' she said, the word coming out a little higher than normal, and squeaky. 'How-how are you?'

'I have to confess I am a little more weary than I antic ipated.'

Constantine answered her ruefully. 'I am sorry. What time is it?'

Joanna inched her hip onto the bed and took his hand. 'It's about half past twelve.' she said. 'Do you want some lunch?'

'Lunch?' Constantine's expression was revealing, but he quickly hid his revulsion. 'Oh, Joanna, my dear. I do not think I am very hungry just now.'

'That's all right.' Joanna squeezed his hand rea.s.suringly. 'You just take things easy. Have you had your medication? Is there anything I can get for you?'

Constantine shook his head, 'I am fine, really,' he in sisted, though it was obvious he was not. 'In a couple of hours I will be up and about again. But I am afraid we will have to postpone our outing until tomorrow.'

'No problem,' said Joanna, wis.h.i.+ng she felt more confi dent about the situation. She hesitated, and then added per suasively.

'Wouldn't you like me to tell Demetri-?'

'Nothing!' For the first time since she'd entered the room, Constantine looked positively animated, 'I want you to promise me you will tell Demetri nothing. If he knew-if he were to suspect that I have not made a full recovery, he would cancel the wedding. I know my son, Joanna. He is a good man. and I love him, but in this instance I will not allow him to treat me as an invalid and destroy Alex's hap piness.'

Joanna was very much afraid that Alex's happiness would be destroyed anyway, when she discovered what was wrong with her father, but she couldn't argue with Constantine now.

Nevertheless, she couldn't help feeling a certain amount of sympathy for Demetri. However selfless Constantine thought he was being, his children were going to be devastated when they found out the truth.

'He-I think he's expecting to speak to you this after noon,'

she ventured, remembering how insulting Demetri had been about her role in Constantine's recovery'. 'He's bound to ask me what's going on. He wasn't very happy with my explanation this morning.'

'Then you will have to improvise,' declared Constantine wearily. 'Come, Joanna. I am sure you can think of some way to divert my son from becoming suspicious.' He paused, his thin lips twisting a little bitterly. 'Use your imag ination.'

Joanna stared at him 'I hope you're not asking me to-'

'No. No.' Once again Constantine grew restless beneath her gaze. 'I would not do that. I meant-' He considered. 'Ask him to take you to see the ruins of Athena's temple. Demetri is quite well-versed in the history of the area, and the temple is the highest point on the island. The view is-' He broke off, his energy depleted, 'I am sorry,' he said again. 'I so much wanted to show you my island.'

'You will,' insisted Joanna encouragingly, squeezing his dry fingers once more. She got to her feet, making no prom ises about asking Demetri anything, 'I'll come back later, when you're feeling more rested.' She smiled, kissing her fingertips and pressing them to his forehead, 'I do care about you. Constantine.

I hope you know that.'

He smiled then, but his eyes had closed, and although the smile lingered on his lips she could tell he'd lost conscious ness again. Anxiety gripped her. She felt so ill equipped to handle this situation. It was an enormous responsibility Constantine had placed on her, and when Demetri found out- She decided to have lunch on the balcony. Faithful to her instructions, however unwillingly, Philip was waiting to serve the salad and omelettes she'd ordered when she emerged from Constantine's room. Her explanation that his employer would be getting up later met with a sceptical stare, but the manservant knew better than to argue with her again. Instead, he obediently attended to her needs, ensuring she had everything necessary with polite deference.

And she had, she thought after he'd gone, seating herself at the table and cupping her chin in one hand as she stared at the view. How could anyone find fault with this place? It was heavenly.

A basket of crusty bread accompanied the meal, together with bottles of both wine and water to a.s.suage her thirst. Salad, crisp and green, and liberally threaded with sliced avocados, peppers and olives, nestled in an ice-cooled con tainer, and golden-brown omelettes rested beneath a heated dome.

Turning her attention to the food, Joanna did her best to enjoy it, but she'd spent most of the morning in a state of raw anxiety and nothing Constantine had said had eased her conscience.

Nevertheless, she was hungry, and, ensconced here on the balcony, she felt rea.s.suringly secure from either Demetri or Olivia's wrath. They were bound to want to speak to her later, but for the moment she was determined not to let thoughts of them spoil her appet.i.te.

Not that she ever ate a lot, she conceded, picking at a curl of lettuce. It was many years since she'd had the kind of appet.i.te that would have done justice to the meal. She supposed she was lucky that she had the sort of metabolism that meant she could eat what she liked without gaining any weight, but not since she was a schoolgirl had she really looked forward to her food.

But then that was all tied up with her parents being killed in an avalanche in Austria and going to live with her father's maiden aunt, who had had little time for a spirited young ster. Meals in Aunt Ruth's house had hardly been happy occasions, with the old lady constantly bemoaning the fact that what little money she had was scarcely enough for her to live on, let alone provide for a gangling girl who was always growing out of her shoes and clothes.

Joanna, at first grief-stricken and confused, had soon learned that life was never going to be the same again, and by the time she was sixteen she had already been planning what she was going to do when she left school. College or university had been out of the question; she'd known that.

Her aunt would have said they couldn't afford it. Besides, she'd had no desire to be any more of a burden to her aunt, financially or otherwise. Only the knowledge that her par ents would have been horrified if she'd insisted on leaving school after her GCSEs had persuaded her to stay on until she'd taken the higher exams.

At eighteen, however, she'd been more than ready to find a job and start supporting herself. But once again fate had intervened. Her aunt had had a stroke, which meant that Joanna had had no choice but to go on living with her and caring for her.

For the next four years she had been her aunt's nurse, eking out an existence on the little money the social services provided.

It wasn't until the old lady died that Joanna had discov ered the trust that her father had set up for her. For years the money had been collecting interest in a fund which should have been used to pay for her personal needs and her education. But her aunt had chosen not to use it or tell her about it. Instead she'd let the girl think that her parents had left her penniless as well as alone.

Why she'd done it, Joanna had no idea. Perhaps she had been an embittered old spinster, as the solicitor had said. In any event, after her aunt's death Joanna had sold the small semi where she'd spent the last ten years of her life and bought herself a comfortable apartment in Kensington. She'd splurged on a new wardrobe, had her long hair cut and styled, and finally taken a holiday in Sardinia. Where she'd met Richard Manning...

A shadow crossed the sun and she pushed her plate away.

Then, sliding her legs to the side, she got up from her chair and crossed to the balcony rail. Resting her hands on the hot metal, she tried to dispel the feelings of inadequacy that remembering the months she'd spent with Richard caused her. But she was always amazed at her own naivety. Had she never suspected that he was not what he seemed?

Apparently not, she thought bitterly. At twenty-two, she'd been less s.e.xually aware than a girl slightly more than half her age. She'd never had a regular boyfriend. Aunt Ruth had not encouraged her to see her friends outside school. And, because she'd succeeded in instilling a sense of obli gation in the girl, Joanna had always felt that she couldn't let her aunt down.

Which was also why Richard had made such a positive impression on her. Tall and fair and good-looking, with a background of public school and an excellent job in the City, he'd seemed everything she could ever have wished for in a man. The fact that he'd been on holiday with another man hadn't seemed so unusual. He'd seemed suave and so phisticated, and she'd been incredibly flattered when he'd singled her out for attention.

The holiday had been everything she'd ever hoped for.

Richard had spent much of his time with her, taking her out in the car he'd hired, dining with her at all the best restau rants.

When she'd mentioned the fact that he was neglecting his friend he'd insisted that it didn't matter. He wanted to be with her, he'd said disarmingly, and she'd had no reason not to believe him.

She'd been thrilled when he'd phoned her after they'd got back to London. She'd been half afraid it had just been a holiday friends.h.i.+p, and that she'd been too inexperienced to hold the attention of a man like him. The fact that so far he hadn't even attempted to kiss her had made her doubt his feelings for her, but when she'd voiced as much to Richard he'd a.s.sured her it was because he had too much respect for her as a woman.

Joanna's lips twisted now. Even with the sun beating down on her shoulders she felt cold. Respect! She doubted if Richard even knew the meaning of the word. He'd used her, that was all.

He'd had his own agenda, and she'd just been his p.a.w.n.

Unable and unwilling to continue with this train of thought, Joanna left the balcony and went back inside. But the beauty of her sitting room was of little comfort to her and, deciding she needed to escape, she fled the room and went downstairs.

As she crossed the marble foyer she heard voices coming from the terrace. She guessed Demetri and Olivia, and pos sibly Spiro Stavros as well, were having lunch outdoors, and she envied them their freedom to do as they liked. They were speaking in their own language, so she didn't under stand what they were saying, but in any case she didn't want to be accused of eavesdropping so she quickened her step.

'Mrs Manning!'

She'd reached the door which led out onto the crushed sh.e.l.l forecourt at the front of the villa when Demetri's voice arrested her. She didn't know why she recognised his voice so instinctively, but she did, and, although she was tempted to pretend she hadn't heard him, courtesy demanded that she acknowledge his presence.

In the few seconds it took her to come to this decision, however, he had covered the s.p.a.ce between them, and when he spoke again his warm breath fanned her neck.

'Joanna.' He had evidently remembered they were sup posed to have called a truce. 'Where are you going? Where is my father?'

Joanna turned reluctantly, remembering all too well how disturbing she'd found him earlier in the day. And although she had other things on her mind-not least the memory of how Richard had deceived her-she was instantly conscious of Demetri's dark attraction and the warm male scent of his body.

'I-I thought I might go for a walk,' she said spontane ously, not really knowing until that moment what she'd had in mind, 'It's such a lovely day.'

'And much too hot to venture out without any protection,'

observed Demetri drily, raising his hand as if to check that her bare arms were free of any sunscreen and then thrusting it into the pocket of his drawstring pants. 'You do not even have a hat.'

'I don't intend to go far,' said Joanna, realising belatedly that she hadn't thought it through. She was so used to England, so used to cool breezes even in September, that she hadn't stopped to consider the wisdom of her decision.

'You are going alone?' Demetri was persistent. 'My fa ther is not going with you?'

'No.' Once again Joanna was conscious of being between a rock and a hard place, 'I think your father needs to take things easy today. He-er-he apologises for his tardiness. He's not going to make your meeting after all.'

Demetri frowned. 'You have seen him, I a.s.sume?'

Joanna's cheeks turned a little pink. 'Of course.'

'Of course.' Demetri's mouth lifted slightly in faint con tempt.

'How could I doubt it? He appears to have put all his trust in you.'

'Hardly that.' Joanna couldn't let him go on thinking they were conducting some kind of intimate liaison, particularly when she was already worried that Constantine wasn't re sponding to his treatment as he should. 'He's just weary, that's all. I think he needs a complete rest.'

Demetri studied her in silence for a moment, and she had the uneasy feeling that he could see right through her. She hoped not. Right now, she didn't think she could cope with another confrontation.

'You have not called a doctor?' he asked at last, and Joanna sighed. She should have known this was coming.

'No,' she said. 'He doesn't want to see a doctor. He has his medication.' She crossed her arms across her midriff. 'That should be enough.'

'You have made that decision?' he enquired tersely, and again she wished Constantine hadn't put her in this position.

'No. He has,' she insisted doggedly. Then, finding inspi ration.

'You know your father. He will not take advice from anyone.'

'That is true.' To her relief, Demetri seemed to accept her explanation. 'So that is why you are-how do you put it?-at a loose end?'

Joanna lifted her shoulders. 'No,' she answered, not al- together truthfully, 'I-just thought it would be pleasant to get out of the house.'

'So you decided to go for a walk in the midday sun?'

She glanced at her watch, 'It's hardly midday.'

'The two o'clock sun, then,' he amended. 'Though the distinction escapes me. It is just as hot now as it was earlier. May I recommend that you confine your activities to the villa until later in the afternoon?'

Joanna expelled a weary breath, 'Is that an order?'

Demetri's mouth compressed, 'It is the advice of someone who knows this climate perhaps a little better than you do,' he told her flatly, 'I would not like you to suffer sunstroke. It is what my father would say if he were here. I am sure he would expect me to look after his-his friend.'

Joanna gave in. 'All right,' she said, 'I'll go back to my room.'

'Or you could sit beside the pool,' suggested Demetri, gesturing towards the terrace. 'There are umbrellas there to protect you.'

No, thanks, Joanna thought, not willing to lay herself open to any more questions. But she didn't say it. Instead, she gave Demetri a polite smile and, without giving him an answer, walked swiftly away towards the stairs.

CHAPTER SIX.

Demetri went to see his father in the late afternoon.

He hadn't seen Joanna since he'd spoken to her just after lunch, and although he couldn't altogether blame her for wanting to avoid the other members of his family, he was irritated that she had chosen to spend the afternoon in her room.

Na pari 'I oryi. He'd been civil to her, hadn't he? More than civil when he considered how frustrated she made him feel. It might not be her fault that he had a physical reaction every time he was near her, but, Theos, it wasn't his either. His father should never have brought her here. Couldn't he see what kind of woman she was? Didn't he realise that she knew exactly how men responded to her s.e.xuality, how she must have used her experience to infatuate him?

Philip let him into his father's apartments. The old man servant seemed relieved to see him, and Demetri guessed Philip wasn't finding the situation any easier than he was. But, remembering the faux pas he had made the last time he was here, Demetri paused in the doorway to the salon, looking about him intently before venturing any further.

'Mrs Manning?' he said, glancing towards his father's bedroom door. His stomach clenched, 'Is she here?'

'No, kirie.' Philip twisted his hands together, 'I have not seen her since before lunch.'

Demetri breathed a little more easily. 'And my father?'

'Your father, kirie? ' Philip looked confused. 'His condi tion is unchanged.'

'His condition?' Demetri stiffened. 'What condition?'

Philip s.h.i.+fted a little nervously. 'But surely you know, kirie?

Kiria Manning-'

He broke off, as if afraid he was saying too much, but Demetri wouldn't let him avoid an answer. 'Yes?' he de manded.

'Kiria Manning-what? What has she been keep ing from me?'

Philip looked uncomfortable now. 'I do not know what Kiria Manning has told you, kirie, but your father is not well. He has spent most of the day sleeping.'

'Oh.' Demetri made a dismissive gesture, 'I know that. Mrs Manning says that he is tired, that the activities of the last two days have been too much for him. Rest is what he needs.'

'He has eaten nothing, kirie.' Philip was defensive. 'He was going to have lunch with Kiria Manning, but she was forced to dine alone.'

Demetri frowned. 'Are you sure?'

'I served her myself,' said Philip stiffly. 'Did she not tell you?'