moment she knew how his mouth would feel on hers—recognised the intimate touch of his hands on her body.
He went on quietly, ‘But I am here with you, my golden one, so don’t disappoint me.’
He held out his hand, and, silently, she rose from her seat and went with him. Felt his arms close round her, drawing her against him. Cressy surrendered, sliding her own arms round his firm waist and resting her cheek against his chest as they moved quietly together to the music, one tune fading effortlessly into another.
She was not an accomplished dancer, yet in Draco’s arms she seemed to drift in perfect attunement, as if she was part of him. It might have been a dream, except that she was only too aware of the physical reality of his nearness.
She was trembling inside, her body tingling as the warmth of his skin invaded her thin layers of clothing, giving her the helpless impression that she was naked in his arms. Shocking her by the sudden scalding heat of desire.
There were no pretences anymore. He was as aroused as she was.
He whispered against her ear, his voice raw and urgent, ‘You feel it too, ne, my girl, my heaven? This need we have for each other?’
She pulled away, staring up at him, her eyes wide, the pupils dilated as she met the glint of golden fire in his.
She said hoarsely, ‘I—I can’t do this. I have to go—have to…’
And stopped, as she realised they were alone. The courtyard was deserted. Yannis and his helpers had vanished into the taverna, the glass doors discreetly closed behind them, and the crowd from Alakos had gone.
She said on a little sob, ‘The ferry—oh, God, the ferry…’
She ran out of the courtyard and down the street towards the harbour, but Draco caught her before she’d gone more than a few yards.
‘The ferry has gone,’ he said.
‘But you knew I had to catch it. You knew that.’ Her voice shook. ‘Now I’m stranded. Oh, hell. What am I going to do?’
‘You stay here,’ he said calmly. ‘It’s not a problem.’
‘Yes,’ she said bitterly. ‘Oh, yes, it is. You don’t understand…’
‘I know more than you think.’ He put his hands on her shoulders, looking down into her angry, frightened face. ‘You believe I have kept you here to share my bed tonight, but you are wrong. I shall sleep at my own house, and you will stay here with Yannis and Maria.’
Cressy gasped. ‘When was this decided?’
‘When we realised that there would be no room for you on the ferry. An overcrowded boat is not safe, particularly when many of the passengers have been drinking Metaxa. It is better to wait for tomorrow.’
She bit her lip. ‘Very well.’ She paused. ‘But the hotel. They’ll know I haven’t come back…’
‘Yannis has telephoned them, so all is well.’
She said quietly, ‘Then there’s nothing left to say.’
The music had stopped when they came back to the courtyard, and the lights were out.
Draco walked beside her, his tread as quiet as a cat’s. 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
