Smokescreen Marriage. Sara Craven

second time. Or shall we erase the events of the past hour, which do credit to neither of us, and pretend it is the first?’

      ‘Yes.’ Kate looked down at the tiled floor, aware that she was blushing. ‘Maybe we should—do that.’

      ‘At last,’ he said. ‘We agree on something.’

      She hastily transferred her attention to the table, set with a jug of chilled fruit juice, a basket of crisp rolls, dishes of honey and dark cherry jam, a bowl of thick, creamy yoghurt, a platter of grapes, apricots and peaches, and a tall pot of coffee.

      She forced a smile. ‘It all looks—delicious.’

      ‘Yes,’ he said softly, a quiver of amusement in his voice. ‘It does.’

      She found she was trembling suddenly, hotly aware that he was still looking at her, and not the food.

      ‘Please sit down,’ he went on, and Kate moved round the table, choosing a chair that would be as far away from him as it was possible to get, without actually jumping off the terrace. And she might even try that if all else failed.

      ‘I hope you found your bath soothing,’ he said silkily, as he poured the juice into glasses, and handed her one.

      ‘Yes,’ Kate said. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘But perhaps a body massage might be even more relaxing,’ he went on. ‘If you would like one, you have only to ask.’

      Kate thumped an inoffensive bread roll on to her plate.

      ‘How kind of you,’ she said grittily. ‘But I’ll pass.’

      He smiled at her. ‘It was not a personal offer, thespinis. We have an excellent masseuse at the health spa, who comes highly recommended. But it’s your decision.’

      Wrong-footed again, thought Kate, taking a gulp of fruit juice and wishing dispassionately that it was hemlock.

      ‘Honey?’ Michael Theodakis proffered the dish. ‘It might sweeten your disposition,’ he added casually.

      ‘My disposition is fine.’ Kate spooned some on to her plate. ‘Perhaps you just bring out the worst in me, Kyrios Theodakis.’

      ‘My name is Michael,’ he said. ‘Or Mick, if you prefer. Just as you are Kate, rather than Katharina.’

      She put down her knife. ‘How do you know my name?’ she demanded huskily.

      He shrugged. ‘Your papers were in the purse you left in the club last night. I did not think your identity was a secret. Besides, the police needed to know.’

      ‘The police.’ She stared at him, lips parted in shock, eyes widening.

      ‘Of course.’ He sounded matter of fact. ‘Your friend Stavros also had ecstasy tablets in his possession when he was searched. Both he and his cousin spent the night in jail. The first of many, I suspect.’

      ‘And Lisa?’ Kate asked, with distress. ‘Oh, God, they didn’t lock her up too, surely.’

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘I arranged for her to have her freedom. But it is as well she is leaving Zycos today, and I doubt she will ever be permitted to return. She keeps bad company.’

      ‘You—arranged?’ Kate said with disbelief. She shook her head. ‘How gratifying to have such power.’

      ‘No,’ he said, and gave her a cool smile. ‘Merely useful sometimes.’

      Kate ate some bread and honey, forcing it past her dry throat.

      At last she said stiltedly, ‘I must sound very ungracious, kyrie.’ She took a breath. ‘I—I have to be grateful, to you, naturally. You saved me from potential disaster, but, for the rest of it, I’m totally out of my depth here.’ She shook her head. ‘Drug dealers—jail—I’ve never experienced these things before. I don’t know how to handle them.’

      He said quite gently, ‘You don’t have to, thespinis. They have been dealt with for you. Please do not allow them to cloud your memories of Zycos.’ He picked up the silver pot. ‘Coffee?’

      But, as she took the cup from him with a subdued murmur of thanks, Kate knew that it would not be her brush with the horror of Dimitris that would return to haunt her in the days to come, but the thought of this man, and the smile in his dark eyes. The warmth of his body, and the remembered scent of his skin as she’d been carried in his arms.

      And, even more disturbingly, that there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

      It was not the easiest meal Kate had ever eaten.

      The necessity to appear untroubled—to make light, social conversation without revealing her inner turmoil—was an unlooked-for struggle.

      ‘The weather’s still wonderful,’ she said over-brightly, after a pause. ‘But I suppose it can’t last forever.’

      ‘Very little does.’ He was preparing a peach, his long fingers deft, but he looked across at her and smiled. ‘Did you know that the sun turns your hair to fire?’

      ‘I’m aware it’s red,’ Kate said, with something of a snap. ‘You don’t need to labour the point.’

      ‘And you should learn to accept a compliment with more grace, matia mou,’ he said drily. ‘Make the most of the sun,’ he added. ‘Because it will rain soon.’

      She looked up at the cloudless sky. ‘How do you know?’

      He shrugged. ‘These are my islands. It is my business to know. And our autumns tend to be damp.’

      ‘Are you from Zycos originally?’

      ‘No.’ There was a sudden curtness in his voice. ‘I was born on Kefalonia, and my real home was always there.’

      ‘But no longer?’ She remembered Stavros mentioning a family dispute.

      He was silent for a moment. Then, ‘I travel a great deal. I have no permanent base just now.’ He paused again. ‘And you?’

      ‘I share a flat in London.’

      He frowned. ‘With this Lisa?’ There was a sudden austerity in his voice.

      ‘Oh, no,’ Kate said hastily. ‘We were colleagues here for the season, and it just seemed—convenient. My flatmate in London is called Sandy, and she’s very different. She works as a researcher on a national newspaper.’ She hesitated. ‘I shall—miss her when I move.’

      ‘You are planning to do so?’ He sounded politely interested.

      ‘Yes,’ she said. She took a deep breath. ‘Actually—I’m going to be married. Quite soon. So—you see—I have every reason to be grateful for what you did for me. And I do—thank you. Very much indeed.’

      There was silence—a slow tingling silence that threatened to stretch into eternity. Expressionlessly, Michael Theodakis looked down at her ringless hands. Studied them. Returned to her face.

      He said, ‘You are very much in love?’

      ‘Naturally.’ Kate stiffened defensively.

      ‘And is it also natural to enjoy erotic fantasies about another man—a stranger?’

      Her mouth was suddenly very dry. ‘My fiancé is the one who matters. I’m not interested in anyone else.’

      ‘Truly?’ he asked softly. ‘I wonder.’ He pushed back his chair and came round the table to her, pulling her up out of her seat. His arms went round her, pulling her close to his body. Then he bent his head and kissed her, slowly and very thoroughly, his enjoyment of her mouth unashamedly sensuous.

      Time stilled. His tongue was slow fire against hers, the practised mouth teaching her things she’d never known she needed to learn. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe—or think.