grateful and unreachable. That was the way to handle the next half hour. The only way.
And then she would be gone, not just from this hotel, but from Greece too, and she would never have to set eyes on him again.
She dried herself and reluctantly donned the towelling robe again, knotting the sash for extra insurance. It masked her from throat to ankle, but it didn’t inspire the confidence her own clothes would have done, and she needed all the assurance she could get, she thought wretchedly.
She combed her hair with her fingers, and emerged reluctantly into the bedroom, steeling herself to walk to the windows.
Outside, a table had been laid, overlooking the sea. And here Michael Theodakis was waiting, leaning against the balustrade in the sunlight.
Kate drew a deep breath, stuck her hands in the pockets of the robe to hide the fact that they were trembling, and went out to join him.
He was wearing shorts, which showed off those endless legs, she observed waspishly, and a short-sleeved polo shirt, open at the throat and affording a glimpse of the shadowing of body hair she’d already had plenty of opportunity to observe.
He said quietly, ‘Kalimera—for the 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
