Her Greek Groom. Sara CravenЧитать онлайн книгу.
He did not touch her, but she felt him in every fibre of her being.
He would kiss her, she thought confusedly, and she wanted him to. In fact, she ached for him. But she’d betrayed too much already, while they were dancing. And when his mouth touched hers she would have no defences left.
No strength to say no when he walked up the moonlit stairs beside her to the quiet, cool room with the wide bed. No power to resist when he drew her down into his arms.
His for the taking, she thought. And he would know that, and would take…
They reached the foot of the stone steps and she paused uncertainly, waiting for him to reach for her.
He said softly, ‘Until tomorrow—Cressida the golden. But now—kalinichta. Goodnight.’ And she felt the brush of his lips against her hair, as swift and tantalising as a butterfly’s wing.
And then she was free, walking up the stairs alone, and bewildered. She turned at the top of the stairs and looked down at him, the still shadow waiting there. Watching her go.
She said huskily, ‘I don’t understand. What do you want from me?’
‘I want everything, agapi mou.’ There was a strange harshness in his voice. ‘All you have to give. And nothing less will do.’ He paused. ‘But I can wait.’
He turned away into the darkness, leaving Cressy standing motionless, her hand pressed to her trembling mouth.
‘MISS FIELDING—are you all right?’
Cressida started violently, and looked up to see one of the senior nurses standing beside her.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m fine. I’m sorry—I was miles away.’
A thousand miles, she thought, and another world…
‘I’m going to ask you to go to the visitors’ room for a little while. The consultant is coming to see your father, and he’ll talk to you afterwards.’
‘Of course.’ She almost stumbled up from her chair and along the corridor. It wasn’t a comfortable room. There was a table in the middle of the room with magazines, and a few moulded plastic chairs ranged round the walls.
She went over to the window and looked out at a vista of rooftops.
She felt ashamed. She was supposed to be here for her father, trying to infuse him with her own youth and strength, and instead she’d allowed herself to daydream—to remember things far better forgotten. A time that was past and done with.
Except…
The memory of that enigmatic e-mail message would not be so easily dismissed.
I am waiting for you.
It can’t be him, she denied, almost violently. I won’t believe it.
She grabbed a magazine from the table and sat down, only to open it at a page recommending Greek holidays. She looked at the crescent of bleached sand fringed by turquoise water in the picture and realised bleakly that there was no refuge from her memories.
They crowded her mind, filling it. Drawing her inexorably back to Myros.
She’d hardly slept that first night at the taverna. She had been too aware of the danger threatening her to be able to relax. And Draco was the most danger she’d ever encountered in her life.
No wonder he was a fisherman, she had thought, turning over restlessly and thumping the flat pillow with her fist. He knew exactly how to keep a woman hooked and helpless.
But he wouldn’t reel her in. She wouldn’t allow it to happen. She was her own person, and her plan didn’t include casual sex. It never had.
Draco had to learn that no matter how attractive he might be he was not always going to win.
And he’d soon find consolation. Every time he danced there’d be a queue of eager and willing girls vying for his attention. He wouldn’t have time to remember the one that got away.
She had nodded fiercely, and closed her eyes with determination.
When she’d awoken, early sun had been spilling through the slats in the shutters across the tiled floor.
The first thing she had seen was that all the things she’d used yesterday, including the beach towel, were lying pristinely laundered and neatly folded on the chair, and the white dress, which had been carefully draped there, had gone. Maria, it seemed, had performed a dawn raid.
Which I didn’t intend, Cressy had thought, as she slid out of bed and headed for the shower.
When she had gone down the outside stairs, Maria had been sweeping the courtyard. To Cressy’s embarrassment, it had been made immediately clear that she would be allowed to pay nothing for her night’s lodging or her meal. Nor would she be permitted to have the white dress cleaned.
‘It is my pleasure to do this for you,’ Maria declared. ‘Everyone say how beautiful you look in the dress.’
Cressy flushed a little. ‘Oh?’
‘Ah, yes.’ Maria gave her a roguish look. ‘And one person in particular, ne?’ She pointed to the table Cressy had occupied the night before. ‘Sit there, kyria, and I will bring you breakfast. Rolls and coffee, and some of the honey from my sister’s bees.’ She bustled off, leaving Cressy to take a careful look around, but she had the courtyard to herself, she realised with relief.
She consulted the list of ferry times in her bag, and saw that the first one ran in just over half an hour. She should make it easily.
Her meal also included fresh orange juice and a bowl of creamy yoghurt. By the time she got up from the table she was replete.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she told Yannis and Maria when they came to say goodbye to her.
‘You are welcome.’ Yannis’s hand closed over hers. ‘Welcome at any time. Your room will always be waiting.’
Cressy’s smile was a little taut. ‘Maybe—one day,’ she said. She hesitated. ‘And please would you thank Draco for me? He’s been—kind.’
She picked up her bag and headed down to the harbour, determined to be the first one on the ferry. But it wasn’t moored at the landing point she’d used yesterday. In fact she couldn’t see it anywhere, she realised frantically, shading her eyes and staring out to sea.
‘So you did not intend to say goodbye.’ Draco got up from the stack of wooden crates he’d been sitting on. The shorts he was wearing were just as disreputable as the previous pair, and he’d topped them with an unbuttoned white cotton shirt.
Cressy lifted her chin. ‘I—I left a message with Maria.’
‘Now you can give it to me in person.’
Exactly what she hadn’t wanted. She said stiltedly, ‘Just—thank you, and good luck.’
‘I believe in fate more than luck.’ He looked her over, smiling faintly. ‘Last night you were Cressida,’ he said. ‘But today you are Sid again. What will you be tomorrow, agapi mou?’
She shook her head. She said, almost inaudibly. ‘I don’t think I know any more.’
‘Perhaps you are being reborn,’ he said. ‘Rising like a phoenix from the ashes of your former life.’
She threw back her head. ‘But I don’t want that. I’m quite content with things as they are.’
‘Content?’ There was scorn in his voice. ‘Is that the most you can wish for? What a small, narrow word, when there is excitement, passion and rapture to be experienced.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said,