‘You were expecting to see him, were you not?’
Ariadne couldn’t leave it alone, and Jane had to bite her tongue on the bitter response she could have given. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ she said, silencing the voice inside her that told quite a different story. ‘Oh, we’re almost there.’
It was all too painfully familiar. The wooden gates at the foot of the drive, the winding track, edged with trees that provided a perfect screen for the house. And then the villa itself, white-painted and expansive, black shutters open, orange tiles re flecting the late-afternoon sun.
Jane caught her breath. She couldn’t help it, but she quickly disguised it beneath a sudden clearing of her throat. Just because she was assailed by memories was no reason to feel nostalgic. She’d left the island of her own accord, almost destroyed by her husband’s deceit.
Ariadne brought the car to a halt and Jane thrust open her door and got out before the girl could say anything else. She hadn’t asked to come here and she had no intention of mitigating Ariadne’s fears. If she had doubts about Demetri, let her deal with them. Jane just wanted to do what was necessary and leave. Whatever ‘necessary’ was.
A manservant appeared as Jane was reaching for her haversack, and she was quite willing to hand over the task to him. All the same, now that she was here, she was uncomfortably aware of the absurdity of her position, and she hoped she would be shown to her room and given time to compose herself before meeting Demetri’s parents again.
‘Apo etho ineh, kiria,’ the man said after he had hefted her bag onto his shoulder. ‘Parakalo, akolootha meh.’
Jane glanced round at Ariadne, who was now standing beside the car, and the girl arched an aristocratic brow. ‘He’s waiting to show you to your room,’ she said, and Jane nodded rather irritably.
‘I do understand a little Greek,’ she said. Then, curbing her frustration, ‘Thank you for meeting me, Ariadne. I expect I’ll see you later.’
Ariadne’s lips tightened. ‘Sigoora, thespinis,’ she responded shortly. Certainly. ‘Kiria Souvakis has invited me to stay for a few days. She thought it might be—easier—that way.’
Easier for whom? wondered Jane ruefully as she followed the man across the paved courtyard and up shallow steps to a dappled terrace. Scarlet fuchsias and blue and white lobelia spilled from stone planters set at intervals along the shaded terrace, the roofline concealed by a tumbling mass of flowering vines.
Doors stood wide to a marble-floored entrance hall which in turn opened into a magnificent reception area. The airy feel of the place was accentuated by huge ceiling fans that wafted cool air into all the adjoining apartments, the concept of closing doors not much in evidence here.
The man indicated that Jane should follow him across the shining tiles, past a shimmering fountain whose rim was adorned with frolicking sculptures of the gods that had once ruled these islands. A wide open-tread staircase wound to the upper floor and as she climbed Jane admired the many delicate bowls of lilies that occupied every vacant surface, their vivid colours more exotic than she’d ever seen at home.
Jane knew, from when she had used to live on the island, that the villa consisted of this two-storied central building with single-storied wings stretching out at either side. When she and Demetri had stayed here, they’d occupied a suite of rooms at the end of one of the ground-floor wings, but evidently she was to be accommodated elsewhere now.
Looking down on the scene below her, Jane was struck by the feeling of isolation she felt. Only the household staff were about, and, although she’d been hoping to escape to her room without seeing Demetri’s mother, now she felt oddly insulted that none of the family was there to welcome her.
But that was probably Maria’s intention, she reflected, refusing to let the other woman’s attitude affect her own. Perhaps it was an attempt to show her how out-of-place she had always been here among people to whom luxury was a way of life.
Even so, the stunning beauty of high-ceilinged rooms opening one from another, of silk-clad walls and sumptuous leathers, of the staff going about on silent feet, was impressive. The Souvakis family was fabulously wealthy, after all. Which had made her relationship with Demetri so unlikely and ultimately so destructive.
A galleried landing gave access to her apartments. The room the manservant gestured for her to enter was both luxurious and comfortable.An elegant sitting room opened into a large bedroom, with glass doors giving access to a balcony from both apartments.
While the man carried her haversack inside, Jane moved across to the windows. One of the long windows was slightly ajar and she could hear the faint murmur of the sea. Below, the glassy waters of the swimming pool gleamed in the afternoon sun. But beyond the gardens, tumbling dunes gave way to a white sand shoreline, the blue-green waters of the Aegean sparkling with dazzling light.
‘Soo aresi afto, thespinis?’
The man was asking if she liked the room and Jane turned to smile at him.
‘Very much,’ she said, in his own language. ‘Thank you.’
‘Efkharistisi mou.’ My pleasure. He smiled warmly, and then wished her a pleasant stay before letting himself out of the room.
Jane followed him to the outer door and, when it was closed behind him, she rested back against it. She felt so tired suddenly, but she knew it was a psychological weariness as much as a physical one. She ran an exploring hand across her stomach again. Dear God, it was going to be harder than she’d imagined. She hadn’t been looking forward to dealing with Demetri’s mother, but she’d never dreamt she might have to contend with his future fiancée as well.
She knew she ought to unpack her few belongings, but it was too much trouble right now. Leaving the door, she kicked off her boots and, walking into the bedroom, dropped down on the bed. It was a huge bed, at least six feet across and half that again in length. But it was soft and springy and very comfortable and, flopping back against the silk coverlet, she closed her eyes.
CHAPTER SIX
THE sound of someone tapping at the door awakened her.
Jane opened her eyes and for a few moments she hadn’t the first idea where she was. But then the sight of billowing sheers at the windows reminded her of her arrival. The windows had been slightly ajar, she remembered, and the sultry murmur of the sea was in her ears.
She sat up abruptly, and then grabbed the edge of the mattress as the room spun around her. Nausea gripped her, but happily it was short-lived. She’d just got up too quickly, that was all, she assured herself. She’d obviously been deeply asleep.
‘Thespinis! Boro na bo?’
Whoever it was was calling her now, and Jane slid reluctantly off the bed and went to the door. She hoped it wasn’t Maria. She didn’t feel up to coping with her mother-in-law in crumpled trousers and a damp T-shirt. She must have been sweating while she slept and now she felt hot and sticky and totally unprepared for company.
To her relief, when she opened the door, she found one of the maids waiting outside. She was carrying a tray containing a jug of iced fruit juice and a glass, and Jane realised she was very thirsty indeed.
‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the tray, but, although she expected the girl to go, she evidently had something more to add.
‘Kirieh Souvakis asks if you will join the family for an aperitif before supper, thespinis?’ she requested in her own language. ‘Would seven-thirty be all right?’
Jane, who had already placed the tray on the nearby table and was presently pouring herself a glass of the chilled juice, turned to blink rapidly. Then, after taking a gulp of the delicious liquid, she glanced at her watch. It was almost seven o’clock and she stared at the watch disbelievingly. She must have slept for over two hours. How rude they must think her.