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Authors: Roberta Latow
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least idea what love was. For her it began and ended with every glance at herself in the mirror. She was, of all his foreign friends in residence in Livakia, the least talented and most self-involved. She had raised her admiration of herself to such an art form that everyone accepted it and loved her for it. For Rachel, Rachel was as important as the very air she breathed. She was
the
flirt personified, who played the vestal virgin but had had every eligible man in Livakia and any other man she wanted a sexual liaison with. Rachel’s idea of discretion in such matters was to plot and create elaborate charades where everyone had to play their part to sustain the illusion that she was hard to get. Petite and very pretty, she proffered a tiny waist and a large and luscious bosom, remarkable for its perfect, more often than not displayed cleavage, which she wore as if she were showing off the
croix de guerre.
Rachel was like a little doll one won as a prize at some game of skill at a country fair. Her saving grace was that her passion for herself was so amusing even she could laugh at it.
‘Why don’t you come too, Rachel? Actually I’d like you all to come and join us, pass the word around,’ was his answer to her.
Manoussos gave nothing more away. He bent down and kissedRachel on her pursed red lips and then started walking towards D’Arcy’s garden and where he knew the boat would dock. By now people were lining the quay and edging the paths around the cliffs, watching the yacht criss-cross the harbour. Several joined him and jabbered in awe of the captain’s courage in bringing in the yacht, when he should unfurl his sails, taking bets among themselves as to whether he would crash before he dropped anchor and set her dead still where he wanted her to be. Manoussos had no doubts Dimitri would dock the schooner exactly when and where he wanted her.
There are always moments of magic while sailing large schooners. Those who love the sea and the mastery of sailing, as did most of the people watching the
Black Narcissus,
were waiting for that moment. It came in a flash. In what seemed like a single instant all the sails plummeted to the deck. The three-masted schooner lost all its speed and seemed to stop dead in the water. The
Black Narcissus
was no more than fifteen feet from its mooring, just exactly where the captain wanted her to be. Admiring sounds rose all around the harbour.
Chadwick and Manoussos saw each other almost at the same time. They smiled and their lives linked together. With all the commotion of crew gathering up canvas, Dimitri guiding the
Black Narcissus
alongside the natural dock carved out of the cliffside, several Livakian men and boys calling for the mooring lines to be thrown to them, she seemed more goddess-like than ever in her stillness and beauty. Manoussos, who had only seen it before now, accepted that this solitary figure standing amidst all the chaos, this woman who had captured his heart, was an enigma. Instinct told him Chadwick was a woman who lived in a good deal of mystery. She had mysteries the way other people had family, friends and lovers. He was infatuated with a woman with a guarded personality who could never truly reveal herself, any more than she would easily give up her secrets.
It was here, in this place, at this time, that he realised their happiness was dependent on their living their love from moment to moment. He was not a man to question the gods or fate. He blew her a kiss from his hand, and their destiny was sealed.
Livakians loved their police chief in and out of uniform. They took pride in him as a law enforcer: his international fame as art detective supreme who made smuggling antique treasures out of Greece hazardous for thieves, his easygoing nature yet the ease with which he caught a murderer in their midst, and the manner in which he could defuse vendettas and potential crimes, demanded and received their respect.
Out of uniform, as he was now, they
the
flirt personified, who played the vestal virgin but had had every eligible man in Livakia and any other man she wanted a sexual liaison with. Rachel’s idea of discretion in such matters was to plot and create elaborate charades where everyone had to play their part to sustain the illusion that she was hard to get. Petite and very pretty, she proffered a tiny waist and a large and luscious bosom, remarkable for its perfect, more often than not displayed cleavage, which she wore as if she were showing off the
croix de guerre.
Rachel was like a little doll one won as a prize at some game of skill at a country fair. Her saving grace was that her passion for herself was so amusing even she could laugh at it.
‘Why don’t you come too, Rachel? Actually I’d like you all to come and join us, pass the word around,’ was his answer to her.
Manoussos gave nothing more away. He bent down and kissedRachel on her pursed red lips and then started walking towards D’Arcy’s garden and where he knew the boat would dock. By now people were lining the quay and edging the paths around the cliffs, watching the yacht criss-cross the harbour. Several joined him and jabbered in awe of the captain’s courage in bringing in the yacht, when he should unfurl his sails, taking bets among themselves as to whether he would crash before he dropped anchor and set her dead still where he wanted her to be. Manoussos had no doubts Dimitri would dock the schooner exactly when and where he wanted her.
There are always moments of magic while sailing large schooners. Those who love the sea and the mastery of sailing, as did most of the people watching the
Black Narcissus,
were waiting for that moment. It came in a flash. In what seemed like a single instant all the sails plummeted to the deck. The three-masted schooner lost all its speed and seemed to stop dead in the water. The
Black Narcissus
was no more than fifteen feet from its mooring, just exactly where the captain wanted her to be. Admiring sounds rose all around the harbour.
Chadwick and Manoussos saw each other almost at the same time. They smiled and their lives linked together. With all the commotion of crew gathering up canvas, Dimitri guiding the
Black Narcissus
alongside the natural dock carved out of the cliffside, several Livakian men and boys calling for the mooring lines to be thrown to them, she seemed more goddess-like than ever in her stillness and beauty. Manoussos, who had only seen it before now, accepted that this solitary figure standing amidst all the chaos, this woman who had captured his heart, was an enigma. Instinct told him Chadwick was a woman who lived in a good deal of mystery. She had mysteries the way other people had family, friends and lovers. He was infatuated with a woman with a guarded personality who could never truly reveal herself, any more than she would easily give up her secrets.
It was here, in this place, at this time, that he realised their happiness was dependent on their living their love from moment to moment. He was not a man to question the gods or fate. He blew her a kiss from his hand, and their destiny was sealed.
Livakians loved their police chief in and out of uniform. They took pride in him as a law enforcer: his international fame as art detective supreme who made smuggling antique treasures out of Greece hazardous for thieves, his easygoing nature yet the ease with which he caught a murderer in their midst, and the manner in which he could defuse vendettas and potential crimes, demanded and received their respect.
Out of uniform, as he was now, they
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