SARA WOOD – The Kyriakis Baby (страница 8)

‘I’ve got to call him,’ she said wearily. She closed her eyes and gave a heavy sigh. ‘Do you have a phone?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘Please, Leon,’ she whispered, on the edge of exhaustion.

He studied her uplifted face, tension stretching the skin over his taut jaw.

‘Let’s get across the road to the shade of the trees,’ he said quietly, as taxis, hire-cars and coaches roared into life, heralding the arrival of another planeload of tourists.

Too feeble, too close to tears to reply, she allowed his proprietorial hand to descend on the small of her back while he shepherded her through the mêlée. His palm burned its imprint into her flesh and when she stumbled in confusion his arm slipped more securely around her waist.

Its instant comfort baffled her even more. He was her adversary and she should cringe from his touch. But then, it had been a long time since a man had held her close, years since she’d felt safe and protected.

Her eyes grew huge. That last occasion had been when she and Leon had been together. He’d kissed her goodbye the night before his engagement to Marina. She remembered it well. Lingering. Loving.

She winced. The wonderful strength and pressure of Leon’s arm was a false security. He’d have thrown her to the lions if he could have found some lurking near the hire-cars.

‘All right?’ he asked quietly when they reached the other side.

His head was bent to hers in query. The soft hairs on her cheek tingled from the drift of his breath. Something warm and disturbing was coiling in her stomach and sharpening her senses even while weakening her body. And then he had dropped the case and was turning her to him with a surprising gentleness.

Without any effort on her part, her eyes closed in response. His breath came warm and quick on her sensitised mouth. She felt like putty in his hands, too tired to fight his hypnotic appeal. It was both wonderful and frightening. She had to get away. Fast.

She opened her eyes a fraction. ‘I…I don’t feel too good,’ she whispered miserably, her heart sinking as she realised that she was too fatigued to successfully plead her case for access.

‘In that case, let’s forget the taverna and cheap digs and get an upgrade,’ he murmured soothingly.

‘I just want John,’ she said in panic. And to sleep for a hundred years… Her eyes met his and were misted with longing.

‘Touching. But you can make do with me.’ Tight-lipped again, Leon pushed her resisting body into the car. ‘Relax. You’ll snap tendons, screwed up like that. What are you worried about? As sure as hell I’m not in a mood for abduction.’

‘Once was enough, was it?’ she flashed, obstinately remaining stiff as a board in the seat.

‘More than.’

Simmering darkly, he leaned across, intent on fastening the seat belt for her. Emma swallowed as first his beautifully smooth golden jaw and then the ever-kissable nape of his neck came to within a hair’s breadth of her breathless mouth. Incapable of stopping herself, she inhaled, her senses reeling from the clean, fresh maleness of him.

And she was too weak to protest, too shattered by the journey and, perhaps, the emotional excitement, to prevent him from invading her space and protesting that she was perfectly capable of fastening her own seat belt. Because she wasn’t.

Unaccountably panic-stricken, she stared out of the window. It was the upsurge of memories, she thought. Her brain was playing tricks with her body, reminding her of love and tenderness…

Her eyes widened as she saw that her case had been abandoned some distance away. ‘My case! It’ll be stolen!’ she cried in agitation.

He paused, turning to look at her. This close, his eyes seemed as black as newly hacked coal. Suddenly Emma couldn’t get her breath, and sat stunned by the impact of the electrical charge that leapt across the gap between them both and which wrenched fiercely at her pained heart.

The man was married. He ought to keep himself switched in neutral, she thought crossly.

‘Your case is safe. We’re honest on this island,’ he snapped.

She winced as his words seemed to slide like a cruel knife into her ribs. The seat belt finally slotted into place. Leon moved back with a tantalising waft of lemony soap and a blur of glossy dark hair and polished skin. His hair still curled defiantly at the nape, she saw, remembering his efforts to keep it strictly in check.

Her door slammed. She watched him retrieve the case and stride back, grim-faced. For a moment or two she could breathe again. It was a long time since she’d felt so limp and short of oxygen. Presumably anxiety and the heat had affected her.

Emma groaned. This was bad news. Over the next few days she must be able to cope with whatever Leon threw at her. The way things were going, she could well have a court case to cope with.

After that, if she eventually won access, she’d need to be at her physical peak if she was to respond to Lexi’s needs.

Emma let out a deep sigh. She’d intended to hire a car and take her daughter to the beach. There they could make sandcastles, play in the water and generally have a good time.

However long it took, she meant to forge a strong and loving relationship with Lexi. She knew she could do that. Her love for her child had survived despite the long separation. Her illness had intensified the knowledge that only one thing in the world mattered: being with her emotion-starved daughter and showing her what it was like to be truly loved.

She leaned back, worried. There was so much to do before Lexi was safe in England. There would be the hazardous journey with Lexi and John: boat-hopping up the chain of Ionian Islands, a secret landing on the Greek coast and then the long drive across Europe.

Throughout the trip she’d have to be focussed exclusively on Lexi, playing games to pass the time, keeping her amused and happy so that it all seemed great fun.

It had sounded perfectly feasible back in England. The route had been mapped, John had returned from his recce with an optimistic report on secluded coves and rarely used roads. But… She bit her lip. If she wasn’t strong enough—if she fell ill…

Horribly daunted by what lay ahead, she passed a shaking hand over her forehead as Leon slid into the driver’s seat. Doubts multiplied. If she lacked energy she’d never cope. Lexi would feel abandoned and bewildered.

Her breath caught in a choking anguish in her throat. The thought of failure made her feel sick.

‘You look shot to pieces. I think you need cheap digs like a hole in the head,’ he commented shrewdly, starting up the car.

‘A luxury hotel would be preferable, but beyond my funds,’ she retorted, wallowing crossly in the ambitious thought of a soft bed, room service and an en suite bathroom.

‘Wait and see what I can come up with,’ he said, sounding smug. ‘If you don’t like where I take you, we’ll ring your lawyer and get you to his rat-infested hovel instead.’

‘Promise,’ she mumbled, almost past caring about rats as long as there was a mattress to rest her weary body.

She let out a long and whispering sigh and felt his dark glance on her parted lips.

‘On my father’s head,’ he said softly. ‘Take a break for now,’ he added, as if soothing a fractious child. ‘Sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive.’

Emma did her best to disobey but felt her heavy lids closing like shutters. Yet Leon’s image stayed to torment her remorselessly: the classic Greek profile, thick lashes concealing liquid black eyes, patrician nose and achingly sensual mouth. Before getting into the car he’d removed his jacket, his open-necked cream shirt moulding to his muscular back and torso.

Her breath quickened. He was dangerously attractive. Tension hung in the air so thickly she could feel it. Even from a short distance away his magnetism poured over her like a relentless tide till she felt she might drown beneath it.

But why was he being considerate? It would amuse him to see her living in the hovel he’d so mockingly described. She racked her brains to determine why he was going out of his way to find her decent accommodation. And could only come up with one answer. For some reason, as yet unknown to her, it suited him.

And therefore his offer should be rejected. Hovel it was, then, she thought glumly.

Music filtered drowsily into her subconscious. Gentle zithers, a haunting refrain. She felt herself relaxing and began to surrender to desperately needed sleep.

Lexi was close, she thought dreamily. Almost in her arms. Another huge sigh of pleasure was expelled from her soft lips and, although she slept, her hands unconsciously sought refuge at her wounded left breast.

Leon shook his head to clear it. He’d be fine if he kept remembering that there was vengeance in her soul. She’d do anything to hurt him. And Lexi was the weapon she’d choose.

He knew he couldn’t keep mother and daughter apart. Eventually the court would be faced with Emma’s doting mother act and grant access. His only hope was if he could convince them she was not a reformed character.

He glanced at her then scowled at the road ahead, trying to eradicate the sight of her lush breasts swelling beneath her dress. He ached from wanting her. But that was out of the question.