His Virgin Mistress Part 9

'Have a nice day.'

CHAPTER NINE.

In fact Demetri didn't return to Theapolis the next day. It was two days later when the helicopter landed at the small airfield near Agios Antonis, and he couldn't deny he was glad to be back.

To make sure that Joanna hadn't caused his father any grief in his absence, he defended himself irritably. Even though he'd had Spiro's nightly reports to rea.s.sure him, he needed to see for himself. Spiro was not family, after all. How could he know what Constantine was thinking, what he was feeling? How could Spiro know what went on be hind his father's bedroom door?

How could he?

Scowling, Demetri hauled off his own suit carrier and waited with some impatience for his sister and her fiance to debark from the aircraft. Theos, he swore to himself, how many suitcases did they have? They were going on honey moon for three weeks, not three months.

It was because of Alex that he'd had to delay his return to the island. She'd insisted that she'd been unable to find exactly the right headdress to wear with her wedding veil. Consequently one had had to be made for her, but it hadn't been ready until the following day.

In Demetri's opinion one headdress looked much like an- other, but he'd been obliged to humour her in this. It was Alex's big day, after all. If Costas was prepared to indulge her, how could he do anything less?

Costas's mother and father, and his three sisters, who were to be Alex's attendants, would be arriving the next day. And the day after that-the day before the ceremony- many more relatives and friends would be taking up temporary residence at the villa.

Demetri wondered how Joanna would cope with so many strangers in the house, and then chided himself for caring what she thought about anything. She shouldn't be here; she didn't belong here. And he sure as h.e.l.l shouldn't be suffering withdrawal symptoms just be cause he hadn't seen her for more than forty-eight hours.

The villa was ominously quiet when they arrived there in the late afternoon. Spiro had despatched the car to pick them up, but even he was absent when Demetri walked into the reception hall.

Somewhere a bee was buzzing, probably trapped against the gla.s.s of the arching atrium, and the sul try scent of lilies and roses and other more exotic blossoms was strong on the air.

With a feeling of disquiet Demetri left Alex and Costas to offload their luggage and vaulted up the stairs to the first floor.

The absence of servants wasn't a cause for concern. Most of the staff were free between the hours of three and six. He strode along the corridor to his father's apartments, a.s.suring himself that he was overreacting.

He hesitated at the door. Once he would have walked in without knocking, but recent events had made him more cautious. Clenching his teeth, he raised his hand and tapped on the panels, feeling a mingled sense of relief and aggra vation when Philip opened the door.

'Kirie Demetri,' the old man exclaimed warmly, in their own language. 'You are back at last. Thanks be to G.o.d!'

'Why?' Demetri brushed past the old manservant and glanced quickly about him. 'What has happened? Is my fa ther all right?'

Philip wrung his hands. 'I wish I knew,' he said, setting all Demetri's nerves on red alert, 'I have been so worried.'

'Worried?' Demetri was sure Spiro would have told him if his father had had a turn for the worse. Or perhaps not. 'What do you mean?'

'Oh, Kirie Demetri!' Philip shook his head. 'That woman-she is no good for him.'

The fact that Demetri agreed with him made it harder for him to say tersely, 'I am sure my father knows what he is doing, Philip.' He saw his father's bedroom door was closed and took a deep breath, is he resting? I would like to have a word with him-'

'He is not resting.' Philip licked his dry lips. 'They are out, kirie. In the heat of the day they went out. I could not stop them.'

Demetri wondered why he felt so deflated. Na pari 'I oryi.

He ought to be glad his father was feeling well enough to go out.

He had obviously recovered from the setback he'd been suffering when Demetri left for Athens, and it was a short step from there to presuming that, far from being no good for him. Joanna had had a favourable effect. Philip was jealous, that was all. And Demetri-well, he preferred not to dwell on his own feelings in the matter. Far better to go back downstairs and find Spiro, and try to submerge himself in the only part of his father's affairs that should concern him: the Kastro empire.

It wasn't until dinner that evening that Demetri encountered Joanna again.

He wasn't absolutely sure what time she and his father had returned from their outing-Spiro, who had been an swering a call from one of their clients when Demetri and his sister had got back, had been annoyingly vague about their whereabouts. He thought they might have driven into Agios Antonis to do some shopping, but he couldn't be sure. As he'd said, Constantine hadn't consulted him before leav ing the villa.

In consequence Demetri had had to cool his heels until the evening. He hadn't tried to see his father again before dinner. He was too aware of what he might find if he did. Besides, Spiro had business matters to discuss with him, and until his father was fully recovered-or he allowed Olivia to a.s.sist her brother, as she wanted to do-it was Demetri's responsibility to see that there were no foul-ups in the op erating process.

His first thought, when he walked into the salon that eve ning and found Joanna and his father seated on a sofa, laughing together over a book Constantine had open on his lap, was that she looked even more beautiful than he re membered. In his absence the sun had given a golden glow to her fair skin and added lighter streaks to the pale glory of her hair. She was wearing a thin wraparound gown in shades of dark blue and turquoise that left one shoulder bare and clung to the lissom contours of her shapely body. A soft chignon allowed s.h.i.+ning strands of hair to curl about her jawline, drawing his unwilling attention to the high cheekbones and the pure line of her throat.

In short, she looked delectable, and Demetri knew an unforgivable urge to stride across the room and drag her away from the pos sessive arm his father had placed about her waist.

'Ah, Demetri.' Constantine greeted him pleasantly, and, despite his misgivings, Demetri was obliged to cross the room and bend to accept the customary salutation. But he drew the line at giving Joanna any kind of welcome, and permitted himself merely a tight smile in her direction.

He saw, to his satisfaction, that she was looking less con- fident now. Her lids dropped, and she made a play of being absorbed in the book. He realised now that it was a pho tograph alb.u.m. Theos, he thought furiously, his father was showing her pictures of himself, Olivia and Alex when they were children. Did he have no shame?

'You will forgive me if I do not get up,' Constantine continued, s.h.i.+fting into a more comfortable position on the sofa.

'We have had rather a busy day, eh, Joanna? And I confess I am a little tired.'

'Busy, yes,' murmured Joanna, her eyes flickering briefly to Demetri's taut face. Then, because Constantine obviously expected more of her, 'We-er-we've been visiting a friend of your father's.'

'Marcos Thexia,' put in Constantine smugly, mentioning the name of his lawyer. 'And we did a little shopping, too.' He lifted Joanna's wrist to display the diamond-studded bracelet that encircled it. 'What do you think, Demetri? Is it as beautiful as its wearer, do you think?'

'Constantine!'

Joanna's protest sounded convincing, but Demetri was not deluded by her tone. 'Not nearly,' he said gallantly, but the fleeting look she gave him revealed that she wasn't de ceived by his insincerity either. Nevertheless, Demetri was more concerned with why his father should have been vis iting his lawyer. In G.o.d's name, what had he done now?

'That is what I thought,' said Constantine happily, ap parently immune to any undercurrents between them. 'Ah, here is Uncle Panos. Pos ineh simera to vrathi, Panos?' How are you this evening?

The old man's intervention allowed Demetri to withdraw to the other side of the room. Finding a tray of drinks on a half-moon-shaped table, he poured himself a generous mea sure of Scotch before turning back to face the others. He didn't know what he'd expected exactly. Perhaps that the unwelcome emotions Joanna had inspired in him before he went away had been exaggerated in his own mind. He'd a.s.sured himself that she couldn't be half as desirable as he remembered, but he'd been wrong. She was just as desir able, just as- But his mind baulked at the ugly word that had entered his head. He didn't just want to have s.e.x with her: he wanted to make love to her. Using her to a.s.suage his frus trations wouldn't come close to flow he was feeling. If it wasn't so b.l.o.o.d.y ludicrous he'd have wondered if he didn't want to have a relations.h.i.+p with her himself.

'Will you put the alb.u.m away, agapi mou?'

As Panos seated himself in the chair closest to him Constantine asked Joanna if she'd return the photograph al b.u.m to the cabinet. Then, as the two older men fell into conversation about the political situation in Athens, Joanna got to her feet and, with obvious reluctance, came towards Demetri.

Of course, he thought, with grim satisfaction. The cabinet was right next to where he was standing. To reach it she was obliged to run the gamut of his narrow-eyed appraisal, and it irritated him no end that she appeared so composed when he felt so tense and on edge.

'Did you enjoy looking at pictures of my father's off spring?'

he enquired in a low voice, unable to help himself. 'Some of them must have been taken before you were even born.'

Joanna bent to slide the alb.u.m back into place and his eyes were irresistibly drawn to her cleavage. Then she straightened to face him. 'You flatter me,' she said, and for a moment his mind went blank. But she enlightened him. 'I'm not as young as you apparently imagine.'

'Oh. Right.' Demetri struggled to collect his thoughts. 'Well, perhaps you have some photographs of your own family to show us, ne? Your husband, isos?' He paused, 'If there ever was such a person.'

'There was.' She spoke in a low voice, 'I wouldn't lie about something like that.'

'No?' He paused. 'But that begs the question of what you would lie about, okhi? Perhaps you have lied about some thing else.'

'No.' She was indignant. 'Why should you think I would have anything to hide?'

Demetri shrugged. 'I suppose because I only know what you have chosen to tell me. This sad story about your par ents being killed when you were a child and having to be brought up by your aunt: do you not think it smacks a little of a fairy story, ne? '

She stared at him with wide, accusing eyes, 'It was no fairy story, Mr Kastro,' she told him coldly. 'My parents were killed in an avalanche in Austria and I was brought up by my father's elderly aunt. Believe me, I wouldn't make that story up.'

Demetri's brows drew together. 'You sound very sure.'

'I am.'

'Do I take it that it was not a happy time for you?'

'A happy time for me?' Joanna's face contorted. 'Mr Kastro, my whole life has not been a-a happy time for me. Does that answer your question?'

Demetri frowned. 'And with your husband?'

'My ex-husband?' Joanna clasped her hands together at her waist and stared down at them. 'Then most of all,' she added bitterly.

'What are you saying to Joanna, Demetri?'

Constantine's querulous voice broke into their exchange, and Demetri suppressed an oath when Joanna turned her head to meet his father's gaze. Immediately she seemed to realise she'd been less than discreet in discussing her per sonal affairs with him, and without another word she hurried back to Constantine's side.

'We were just chatting about my childhood.' she said, letting Demetri off the hook even as she proved she was as capable of bending the truth as anyone else. 'Is it nearly time for dinner?'

'When Alex and Costas get here,' agreed Constantine drily.

'Ah, here they are at last.' With her help he got heavily to his feet.

'My dear, allow me to introduce you to my younger daughter and her fiance. Alex, Costas-this is my very dear friend, Joanna Manning.'

Dinner went reasonably well. Perhaps it was because Olivia was absent for once, but Demetri had to admit that the atmo sphere was considerably less tense than when she was pres ent.

Alex was much different from her sister, of course, and she seemed to see nothing wrong in the fact that their father should be choosing to have an affair with a much younger woman.

Indeed, in an aside to her brother she observed that Constantine looked quite well for a man who only weeks ago had undergone a serious operation. Her opinion was that Joanna must be doing him some good, and Demetri was forced to concede that she might be right.

Not that that was any consolation to him. It didn't please him to realise that he was beginning to find excuses for Joanna's involvement with his father. Listening to her talk about herself, about her marriage, he'd actually felt some compa.s.sion for her.

So much so that he'd resented his father for interrupting them when she'd been on the verge of tell ing him why her marriage had broken down. Or rather, he thought she had, he reflected wryly. Perhaps she hadn't in tended to confide in him at all.

Perhaps everything she'd said had been a carefully orchestrated attempt to gain his sympathy. If so, she'd certainly achieved her aim.

He scowled. Dammit, when was he going to stop thinking with his emotions instead of his head? It didn't matter if she'd lied to him or not. She wasn't his concern.

But she was.

'Is something wrong, Demetri?'

Alex's low voice, speaking in their own language, was troubled, and he realised that although she was sitting beside him he'd hardly spoken a word to her throughout the meal. Which was unusual for him. He'd always felt he had more in common with his younger sister than with Olivia. The fact that Alex was getting married in a couple of days should have been the foremost thing on his mind.

'Nothing,' he denied now, forcing a teasing smile for her benefit. 'So...how do you think it will feel to be Kyria Karadinos?'

'Pretty good. I hope.' She answered him in the same light vein. Then, more seriously, 'How about you? Not having second thoughts about your break-up with Athenee, are you?'

Demetri's smile deepened. 'No,' he said drily, aware that only Alex would have dared to bring up his affair with Athenee Sama at the dinner table. Indeed, most people avoided talking about Athenee at all-believing, quite rightly, that it was a sore subject with him.

Or it had been. He realised with a jolt of amazement that since his father had introduced him to Joanna he hadn't even thought about Athenee. Now he was, but he felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

'I am glad.' Alex was nothing if not persistent, 'I never liked her. She was always so vain, so full of her own im portance. She would not have made you happy, Demetri. You need someone warm; someone-sympathetic.' She dimpled, her face-with its straight nose and deep-set dark eyes-so like his own. 'Someone like Joanna.' she added mischievously. 'What a pity Papa saw her first.'

Demetri managed to retain his smile, but only just. As always, Alex had rushed in where angels feared to tread, 'I do not think Mrs Manning likes me,' he said, with what he thought was admirable restraint. He took a deep breath and changed the subject. 'Costas.' He leaned past her to speak to her fiance. 'I hope you intend to keep my sister in order. I regret she has the unforgivable tendency of poking her nose into places where it is least wanted.'

'Well, I had to be sure that you were not pining for Athenee,'

protested Alex indignantly. 'I am sure you know that Papa has invited Aristotle Sama to the wedding, and it is not beyond the realms of possibility that Athenee will come with him.'

Demetri's scowl returned. 'And Benaki?' he enquired, with rather less sanguinity.

'Oh, did you not know?' Alex gave a nervous little shrug of her shoulders. 'Athenee and Peri Benaki are no longer an item.

Sara, Costas's sister, told me.'

CHAPTER TEN.

It was early evening before Joanna had the chance to es cape from the wedding party. Avoiding the marquee, where earlier in the day a sumptuous lunch had been served to over a hundred guests, she went down the steps towards the beach, taking off her heeled sandals when the sand started to ooze between the straps.

From Alex and Costas's point of view it had been a suc- cessful day. Although Alex had confided that the guest list had had to be pinned because of her father's illness, Joanna couldn't help thinking that getting on to one hundred and fifty witnesses was fairly generous by anyone's standards. Another ceremony was already being planned, to take place in Athens when the young couple returned from their hon eymoon, to include all the people they had not been able to invite to the island. But for the present the celebrations were over; Alex and her new husband had left for Malaysia, and all that was left to do was bid goodbye to the guests who had stayed at the villa.

Half an hour ago Joanna had escorted Constantine to his apartments, aware that he had been exhausted by it all. Despite his grim determination to give Alex a day she would remember, at the end he had had to admit his weaknesses. Without Joanna's help he would never have got up the stairs, but he was adamant that no one else should be in volved.

Demetri had been concerned, of course. Joanna had been aware of him keeping an eye on his father, like herself, during the service, ready to rush to his aid if he'd looked in danger of imminent collapse.

But Constantine had drawn on strengths even Joanna hadn't believed he possessed. He'd escorted his daughter to the ceremony, stood by while she'd taken her vows, and given his speech at the lunch that followed with every in dication that he was enjoying the occasion just as much as everybody else.