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Authors: Anne Mather
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cuffs of her trousers and almost jumped out of her skin when Alex said: "Good morning, Charlotte!" from somewhere behind her.
She swung round, startled, jerking upright to find him standing only a few yards away from her on the beach. His only garment was a pair of fraying denim shorts that left the hairy expanse of his chest and long powerful legs bare. She had not seen him without the civilizing influence of shirt and trousers before, and as the shorts only reached somewhere slightly below his navel, there was little of him she could not see. He looked big and intensely masculine, the night's growth of beard still darkening his jawiine , and Charlotte felt a peculiar tightening in her stomach.
Then her eyes darted revealingly to the yacht, still out in the bay, and following her gaze, he said: "I'm sorry to dis appoint you, but that's Dimitrios . He enjoys sailing, too."
Charlotte looked round for her sandals, more for something to do than actually needing them. "There was no need to come creeping up on me," she retorted. "I -! was just taking a walk, that's all."
Alex hooked his thumbs into the low waistband of his shorts. "And I was just cleaning the launch's carburettorl " he returned, and when she still looked sceptical extended a hand for her to see the oil on his fingers. Charlotte felt somewhat chastened, and he went on: "Did you sleep well?"
Her cheeks burned. "I - yes. Very well, thank you."
"Good. You look less - strained this morning."
Charlotte brushed sand off her toes. "You - that is - you didn't-"
" - come to bed?" he finished for her. "No. Not to your bed, at least."
Charlotte's eyes were troubled as she glanced up at him. "I - why not?" Perhaps he had changed his mind after all. Her heart lifted.
But Alex was looking cynically at her. "Why do you think?" he asked mockingly. Then, more soberly: "I've told you, Charlotte, I'm not a monster. I realize this has been a tremendous upheaval for you, that you need time to get used to the situation - to me!"
Charlotte licked her lips. "How - much time?"
"As long as it takes," he returned flatly. "Now, will you stop behaving as if I'm about to leap on you, strip off your clothes, and take you, here - on the sand."
Charlotte quivered. "If- if this is supposed to be some kind of an apology - "
"Apology?" he echoed impatiently. "Like hell, it's an apology ! It's a stay of execution, that's all!" And with that he turned and stalked away towards the boathouse.
Charlotte felt no further desire to remain on the beach, and she scrambled up the cliff path, arriving hot and dishevelled at the villa. She encountered Maria in the hall, and the old housekeeper looked with dismay at her dust-smudged pants and flushed cheeks.
"Is something wrong?" she exclaimed, but Charlotte shook her head.
"No, nothing. I went down to the beach, that's all."
"Ah." Maria folded her hands together. "You were looking for Kyrios Alexandros ."
"No, I was not," Charlotte contradicted her sharply. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I need a wash...."
Charlotte spent the rest of the morning in her room, refusing to admit what a futile exercise that was. After all, Alex was not in the villa. She could quite easily have sun bathed on the patio, or walked in the gardens among cool olive trees, but instead she chose to hold herself apart from the rest of the household.
The bed had been made in her absence, and kicking off her sandals, she stretched her length upon it, staring up mutin ously at the softly moulded ceiling above her head. Her thoughts were confused after the things Alex had said to her. While there was a certain relief in his so-called stay of execu tion, there was also a bitter sense of insecurity. How long was she expected to live in this state of almost suspended animation, constantly aware of that impending approach of disaster?
In spite of the turmoil of her thoughts, towards midday she must have slept, because she awakened with a start, sure that someone else was in the
She swung round, startled, jerking upright to find him standing only a few yards away from her on the beach. His only garment was a pair of fraying denim shorts that left the hairy expanse of his chest and long powerful legs bare. She had not seen him without the civilizing influence of shirt and trousers before, and as the shorts only reached somewhere slightly below his navel, there was little of him she could not see. He looked big and intensely masculine, the night's growth of beard still darkening his jawiine , and Charlotte felt a peculiar tightening in her stomach.
Then her eyes darted revealingly to the yacht, still out in the bay, and following her gaze, he said: "I'm sorry to dis appoint you, but that's Dimitrios . He enjoys sailing, too."
Charlotte looked round for her sandals, more for something to do than actually needing them. "There was no need to come creeping up on me," she retorted. "I -! was just taking a walk, that's all."
Alex hooked his thumbs into the low waistband of his shorts. "And I was just cleaning the launch's carburettorl " he returned, and when she still looked sceptical extended a hand for her to see the oil on his fingers. Charlotte felt somewhat chastened, and he went on: "Did you sleep well?"
Her cheeks burned. "I - yes. Very well, thank you."
"Good. You look less - strained this morning."
Charlotte brushed sand off her toes. "You - that is - you didn't-"
" - come to bed?" he finished for her. "No. Not to your bed, at least."
Charlotte's eyes were troubled as she glanced up at him. "I - why not?" Perhaps he had changed his mind after all. Her heart lifted.
But Alex was looking cynically at her. "Why do you think?" he asked mockingly. Then, more soberly: "I've told you, Charlotte, I'm not a monster. I realize this has been a tremendous upheaval for you, that you need time to get used to the situation - to me!"
Charlotte licked her lips. "How - much time?"
"As long as it takes," he returned flatly. "Now, will you stop behaving as if I'm about to leap on you, strip off your clothes, and take you, here - on the sand."
Charlotte quivered. "If- if this is supposed to be some kind of an apology - "
"Apology?" he echoed impatiently. "Like hell, it's an apology ! It's a stay of execution, that's all!" And with that he turned and stalked away towards the boathouse.
Charlotte felt no further desire to remain on the beach, and she scrambled up the cliff path, arriving hot and dishevelled at the villa. She encountered Maria in the hall, and the old housekeeper looked with dismay at her dust-smudged pants and flushed cheeks.
"Is something wrong?" she exclaimed, but Charlotte shook her head.
"No, nothing. I went down to the beach, that's all."
"Ah." Maria folded her hands together. "You were looking for Kyrios Alexandros ."
"No, I was not," Charlotte contradicted her sharply. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I need a wash...."
Charlotte spent the rest of the morning in her room, refusing to admit what a futile exercise that was. After all, Alex was not in the villa. She could quite easily have sun bathed on the patio, or walked in the gardens among cool olive trees, but instead she chose to hold herself apart from the rest of the household.
The bed had been made in her absence, and kicking off her sandals, she stretched her length upon it, staring up mutin ously at the softly moulded ceiling above her head. Her thoughts were confused after the things Alex had said to her. While there was a certain relief in his so-called stay of execu tion, there was also a bitter sense of insecurity. How long was she expected to live in this state of almost suspended animation, constantly aware of that impending approach of disaster?
In spite of the turmoil of her thoughts, towards midday she must have slept, because she awakened with a start, sure that someone else was in the
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