There was a frown on Kim Rosswell's wide forehead as she put the finishing touches to her pale gold hair, fixing a diamanté stud that was meant to be functional as well as decorative, as it held back an unruly lock which invariably persisted in falling onto her forehead.
Dendras was becoming overinvolved, too emotionally intense. She had considered him a mere boy, not yet of an age to fall in love, but she strongly suspected that tonight he would talk about marriage, and her frown deepened at the idea of hurting him. They had met in the most improbable circumstances when their cars had been locked in a car park belonging to a bank. Kim had to smile at the young man's dismay as he stood staring through the iron railings of the gate, reading the newly erected notice: 'This car park will close at three-thirty.'
Of course, both knew they should not have made use of the park in the first place, and Kim was also aware that the gate was usually locked at half past four each afternoon. Never had she known it to be closed before then, but she surmised at once, as she read the notice, that too many people had been using the park which, quite naturally, was reserved exclusively for the bank's clients.
'What are we going to do?' The young man's brow was puckered and there was a quiver in his accented voice. 'I've been doing some research on this town and there was nowhere else to park my car. I have to be back at the university by half past five.'
'You'll not be able to have your car until after ten o'clock tomorrow morning.' Kim herself was resigned. She lived only a couple of miles from town and could either walk or take a bus. 'You'll have to use a taxi and come back tomorrow.'
He had sighed and moved away. The following morning they met again, each approaching the car park rather furtively in case there was someone waiting to reprimand them for their illegal use of the park. But as luck would have it, they both drove off without incident, only to meet again in a coffee shop an hour later. It was natural that they should nod and smile, and as the cafe was crowded, they found themselves sharing a table.
'It's fate,' declared the young man after spontaneously offering his name. 'How about having lunch with me?'
Kim hesitated, but not for long. She liked the dark eyes, the frank open face of the olive-skinned young man, and as she was on vacation for a week, she had no commitments. Dendras, on the other hand, was supposed to be fully engaged on his research, which was connected with the architecture of the town, but, he said, there was no real pressure. And so they lingered over their coffee, then sauntered around medieval Chester, where Kim was able to point out buildings of particular interest.
'How long have you been at Liverpool?' she asked conversationally, and learned that he was in his final year at the university. 'Why aren't you studying in your own country?' she had enquired.
'I live on an island and we haven't the educational facilities. I could have studied in Athens, but my friends at Liverpool and I wanted to be there, too. It was an idea to which, fortunately, my brother—who is also my guardian—made no objection, so here I am.' He had gazed at her with undisguised admiration later, as they sat opposite one another at the luncheon table, and within the next hour or so she had learned a great deal about Dendras Christou and his elder brother, Vidas. The latter was a stern, unbending man from what Kim could gather, arrogant and rather too aware of his position as owner of a vast citrus- and olive-producing estate and also the Castello Astura, a renovated Venetian castle situated on the breathtakingly beautiful island of Malindos in the Aegean.
'The castle and estate belong entirely to your brother?' Kim looked puzzled as she asked the question. 'You haven't a share in them?'
'Father left them to him because he's the elder. Vidas and I are stepbrothers,' he added inconsequentially.
'And your brother isn't married, you said?'
'He's thirty-five and up till now has shown no interest in marriage.' He stopped rather abruptly, colour mounting into his cheeks. Kim smiled to herself, aware of the reason for his embarrassment. It was a well-known fact that Greek men were the most amorous in the world, so it did not require much imagination to guess that Vidas Christou would not be living the celibate life.
Dendras had asked Kim to go out to dinner with him on the following Saturday and she had agreed; this led to other dates, and now, after almost three months of pleasant friendship, Kim was again meeting him for dinner, her intention being to put an end to the affair before he became even more deeply involved. As it was, his feelings must be hurt, but not overmuch—certainly not as severely as they would be were she to continue seeing him.
She took a last look in the mirror before turning away to pick up her wrap and the evening bag of white satin and sequins, which matched the ankle-length dress she wore. Full-skirted, yet cut on simple lines, it enhanced her slender figure, clinging to her small breasts and waist, then flowing out towards the hem in gentle, exquisitely cut folds. Being white, it lent her delicate features an ethereal quality, which was made even more pronounced by the colour of her hair. In contrast, her eyebrows and lashes were dark, her eyes an unusual colour of smoke blue that seemed at times to change to green. Her full generous mouth was tilted at the corners, her throat white and long above gracefully sloping shoulders, which at present were bare, the gown being held up by straps no more than a quarter of an inch wide.
She was not surprised by the look of deep admiration that leapt to Dendras's face when they met in the lounge of the Grosvenor Hotel in Chester.
'How beautiful you are!' Dendras's hands were extended to take hers and she coloured despite her composure, for several people were amusedly witnessing the effusive way in which she was being greeted by the dark young man with the foreign voice. 'Kim, I—'
'Shall we order drinks?' she broke in swiftly, leading him gently by the hand towards a low sofa at the far end of the lounge.
'I wanted to call for you.' His voice was petulant as he sat down beside her. 'Why won't you let me come to your home?'
'Because I don't think my parents would approve of my going out with anyone so young.' She had hoped to impart her news in a way that would mitigate the pain as much as possible, but now she doubted her ability to do so.
'I'm almost twenty-one—two years younger than you. It's nothing.'
'It's far too much,' returned Kim gently. The man should be older than the woman—in a serious affair, that is.'
He looked at her through bewildered eyes. 'This isn't serious, then?'
'No, Dendras—'
'I was going to ask you to marry me,' he broke in desperately. 'Oh, Kim, you must know that I love you!'
She swallowed the hard little lump that had lodged in her throat, cursing herself for not ending the affair weeks ago.
'It's only calf-love,' she began, still in the same gentle tones, but before she could add anything Dendras was asking, 'What is calf-love? I have never heard the expression.'
She explained, watching him shaking his head.
'I love you properly,' he stated. 'I'm old enough to know my own mind. Kim.'
'Have you ever stopped to consider whether or not your brother would approve of me?'
There was a tense pause before Dendras said, 'I—I've asked him for his consent to—'
'You—!' Kim's eyes widened. 'You've gone as far as to seek his approval of our marriage?' This was much worse than she had suspected, and Kim more than ever blamed herself for allowing the friendship to continue as long as it had.
'Yes, I've been asking him for weeks, phoning almost every day, pleading with him to let me get married but he was adamant—until Thursday, when at last he gave in and said I could marry you.' Dendras swallowed convulsively and Kim suspected it was a nervous gesture even before he turned his head away, hiding his expression from her curious gaze. She stared intently at his profile, her pulses quickening for some reason she failed to understand. Why was he blushing, looking decidedly guilty and avoiding her gaze?
'What made him change his mind?' Kim's tone was unconsciously short.
'I… er… suppose he realised I was determined.'
'He did?' Kim's eyes still searched his profile. 'Your argument must have carried a great deal more weight on Thursday than at any other time.'
'Of course, or otherwise he'd not have agreed to my marriage.' The air of guilt was still present and it brought the obvious question from his companion.
'What did you say that was so different from what you'd said before?'
Silence, with Dendras shifting about uneasily in his chair. He looked at her, opened his mouth as if he would blurt something out, then closed it again.
'Aren't you going to answer my question, Dendras?' she prompted him, but he only sighed and shook his head, his whole manner betraying extreme discomfort.
'I didn't say anything different—'
'Dendras,' broke in Kim gently, 'you must have done.'
'I expect he became exasperated and decided to give his consent.' His voice was defiant now, but he again avoided Kim's eyes. 'Vidas hasn't much patience at the best of times and my perseverance must have broken down what little he had.'
Although she was aware that he was lying, Kim could not for the life of her imagine what Dendras could have said to make his brother change his mind. 'You do realise you're being vexingly mysterious,' she just had to say.
'Mysterious?' he asked with well-feigned surprise. 'What makes you say so?' The tone of defiance returned and so did his guilty colour.
'From what little I've gathered about this brother of yours, I'd not have expected him to change his mind once it was made up.' Not unless Dendras had said something which had completely altered the whole aspect of the situation, she mused, a frown creasing her brow.
'I've just said he hasn't much patience.' There was a sulky edge to the tone and a pout on his lips as he added, 'I can't see the reason for your attitude, Kim.'
A deep sigh escaped her and she decided to let the matter drop, and in any case, the waiter was coming to take their order.
As soon as the drinks were brought one of the restaurant waiters appeared with the menu, and for a few minutes Kim and her companion were silent. But suddenly he lowered the large, leather-enclosed menu and said, with a distinct catch in his voice, 'I was very serious about wanting to marry you, Kim. Please think about it, at least, before you give me a definite refusal.'
She shook her head, biting her lip with vexation at her own stupidity in not making a break long ago, yet admitting that continued self-blame was both futile and unprofitable. 'I'm not in love with you, Dendras, so there's no sense in my even thinking about marriage.'
His face closed; she noticed the throbbing of a nerve in his jaw and wished with all her heart they had never met. Fate, he had called it! Fate could be relentlessly cruel at times.
'I feel utterly lost,' he owned. 'I—I thought you liked m-me.'
'Liking isn't loving,' she pointed out. 'Of course I like you, but there can be nothing serious between us—'
'You're too hasty,' he accused, his dark eyes misted, proving without doubt just how young he was, for it was plain that he was coming dangerously close to tears. 'Don't tell me this is… is the end.'
Reluctantly, she nodded her head.
'It is,' she answered, wondering how they would get through the meal. 'Perhaps we should not have dinner after all, but say good-bye now.'
'No! I must see you again—I must!' His mouth twisted and for a space he was unable to speak. 'Have dinner with me,' he begged at last, a plea in his eyes. Kim shook her head; it was a gesture of impatience rather than a denial. But it seemed to bring him to his senses; she saw him straighten up to square his shoulders. He pulled himself together and said, 'I'll not mention it again this evening, Kim, I promise. Let us enjoy our meal as we always have.'
'All right.' She was gratified to note his response to her smile, aware that he was determined to throw off his dejection, and so they were able to chat over the meal in the usual carefree and pleasant way. She had already learned much about his home on the island of Malindos—the lovely renovated castle so tastefully furnished and so magnificently situated on a wooded plateau overlooking the Aegean Sea. She knew it was mellowed with age, its interior boasting all that was luxurious and elegant, suggesting, as it should, an air of gracious living. And now Dendras was telling her about the grounds, his descriptions so vivid that she could almost see the way the morning sunshine on the dew lent a star-spangled effect to the mile-long avenue of plane trees leading up to the imposing front entrance of the castle, their branches closing overhead. She could easily imagine the masses of gaudy, opulent hibiscus bushes, the ancient, massive carob dominating the view from one of the windows of the main dining salon, the crystal spray of the fountains and the marble goddesses standing guard beside them. She learnt that Dendras's mother kept house for her stepson, running it with a sort of rigid efficiency.
'Father stipulated that Mother must remain at the Castello, as its mistress, until Vidas marries,' Dendras said, and there was an undercurrent to his voice that caused Kim to sense that Vidas was not at all happy with the terms of his father's will.
Dendras changed the subject before Kim could ask any questions and she heard about the landscape of the island, which despite its small size was mountainous and even barren in parts. But it was said to be one of the most spectacularly beautiful islands of its group, rivalled only by Rhodes in the variety of colour and vegetation. Even the barren parts lent beauty, rising as they did above the valley, their high summits clear-cut against the sky.
'Have you ever been to Greece?' Dendras's voice had become more noticeably accented, owing to the enthusiasm he felt as he described his island home to the girl whose interest had been well and truly caught.
'No, never,' she replied, wondering if she would ever have the money for a trip to the country that had intrigued her ever since, as a small girl at school, she had pored over colourfully illustrated stories of Jason and the Golden Fleece, and Odysseus outwitting the sirens. For her, Greece would always have the same fascination as it had then; it was a fabled, mystic land of pagan gods and fearless heroes, of history and culture, its ancient peoples having brought civilisation to the Western world. 'One day perhaps I shall visit it,' she added at length. 'Malindos sounds particularly intriguing and beautiful.'
'Many Greek islands are just as beautiful, but in a different way. If you ever come to my island…' His voice trailed off as shadows touched his eyes. But when presently he spoke again, there was nothing in his voice to betray his inner feelings. 'You must go to the lovely bays along the southern coast. They are often deserted because our island is not geared to tourism like some of the larger ones.' He described the Halthea Valley, much of which was owned by his brother, who grew fruit and olives for export. 'In another, narrower valley you would see the remains of many Venetian castles which might one day be restored like ours. At the head of this valley, on the cliff, is another magnificent castle owned by a Greek who married an Irish girl.'
'An Irish girl? She managed to settle, then?'
'She is in love,' returned Dendras simply.
Love… An involuntary sigh issued from Kim's lips. Would love ever come to her? She had dreams, like any other girl, but as yet she had never met a man she liked enough to encourage. She often wondered if she was too choosey, because she had had several opportunities for going steady but had turned them all down.
'Is there any kind of industry on the island?' she asked when the silence began to stretch. 'Do they grow anything as a staple?'
'No, not as such. We have a few hotels now springing up, and there are the fruit and the olives.' He paused and then, with a faint, rather faraway smile, said, 'I haven't told you of the strange custom that somehow came into being in my family, have I?'
'No.' Kim looked interested. 'Tell me about it.'
'Well, there is an unwritten law in my family that puts an obligation on male members to see that any girl who becomes pregnant must never be left in the lurch—' He stopped, his young face gaining colour. 'It's a crude way of putting it, isn't it?'
'Using the term "left in the lurch" you mean?' Kim laughed and shook her head. 'I don't think so, Dendras.'
'Well, to continue. If one member of my family should die after getting a girl in the family way it's incumbent on another to marry her, be it a brother or cousin.'
Kim could only stare disbelievingly for a long moment before saying, 'What a fantastic custom! What would happen if there wasn't a male free to marry the girl? I mean, they all might be married.'
'To be honest, I don't think the custom has ever been put into operation—if that's how one would put it.' Dendras laughed. 'All our men must have lived to marry the girls if ever they did get them into that position….' For some reason he allowed his voice to trail off into silence, yet again he deliberately avoided Kim's eyes. She frowned at his strangeness, and felt the hair on her forearms lift as her nerves tensed involuntarily.
'Dendras,' she said, 'I don't understand you at all. Are you serious about this custom you mention?'
'Of course,' he replied indignantly. 'It's the truth. I expect it does sound silly but, after all, it would be just a matter of honour, wouldn't it?'
'So you say; I still don't understand your manner.'
He coloured, but managed to appear cool and controlled. 'Forget it,' he said, taking a crusty roll from the basket. 'Vidas is always saying he'll revoke it, but of course he hasn't bothered because he knows he'll never have to honour it.'
Kim looked at him, her frown deepening. 'Do you mean to say that as things are at present, if you—' She stopped and now it was her turn to colour up.
Toying with the roll on his plate, Dendras said, 'Yes, if I got a girl into the family way and then died, he would have to marry her in order to give the child a name.'
'Well, of all the stupid customs! It's beyond belief!'
'No such thing. The same custom existed in France for a very long period. It might still exist in some families.'
Kim merely shrugged and changed the subject, asking Dendras to tell her more about his home, but he talked about his brother instead, saying that he lived for his business and had little time for relaxation.
'He has a study in a quiet part of the house and spends a good deal of his time there. Of course, he has a lady friend now and then—I expect you gathered that from what I said earlier?'
'From the way you acted,' corrected Kim. 'I believe all Greek men have lady friends, whether they are married or not?'
'Their wives often have lovers too,' returned Dendras. 'Morals are not thought much of in Greece.'
'Your brother's fifteen years older than you, I think you said?'
'That's right, and so Father made him my trustee until I'm twenty-one. Vidas has the Castello and the land, but I have a large fortune, and this is being looked after by Vidas. I was only sixteen when Father died.'
'If your brother's as old as that, it's a wonder he isn't married. Surely he wants an heir to all that wealth?'
'He might marry one day. But I suppose he feels sure that I will eventually provide an heir.' He paused in thought. 'If I did have a son, I don't think Vidas would ever get married, because he seems more than satisfied with his bachelor existence.' Dendras looked fixedly at her, stressing the words as a tacit reminder that she was being offered the honour of mothering the heir to the Christou wealth. 'Yes, Vidas would be more than pleased if I were to produce a son.'
Kim said casually, 'Tell me about your mother. I've noticed that you haven't said much about her at all.'
'For a reason.' His foreign voice was almost harsh. 'I'd rather not talk about my mother. She and Vidas are two of a kind—hard and unfeeling, unapproachable.'
'I'm sorry,' she murmured, faintly shocked at the dramatic change in Dendras's manner. 'Forgive me—'
'It's all right. You weren't to know that we don't see eye to eye.'
A thoughtful expression settled on Kim's face as a result of what Dendras had just said. She was thinking of his brother and wondering how he got on with his stepmother, who had the right to remain in his home until he married. Kim had previously sensed that Vidas was not too happy with the arrangement, but she supposed he must get along all right with the woman or he'd have married before now, if only to rid himself of her presence in his home.
But even as she was reaching this conclusion she heard Dendras say, 'Vidas doesn't get on with her either. She can be exceedingly awkward and determined, but he has no alternative than to put up with her.'
'You'd think he would get married, then.'
Dendras only shrugged and the subject was changed. However, Kim could not help dwelling on the matter and feeling puzzled that Vidas didn't decide to marry and free himself of what seemed to be a burden.
***
Later, when she and Dendras were saying good night by her car, which was parked close to his, she heard his plea and a sigh left her lips.
'I can't let you go like this, Kim—never to see you again. Please say we can meet and have dinner as usual next Saturday?'
She looked at him in the hotel's bright light, knowing what she ought to do and yet acutely conscious of what her soft heart was urging her to do—and the two were vastly different.
'It isn't going to do any good,' she began when, to her consternation, he started to cry. 'All right,' she amended swiftly, 'I'll see you on Saturday.'
'Here, at the Grosvenor, or would you like to go somewhere else for a change?'
'Let's meet at the Adelphi in Liverpool. It's an excellent place to dine.'
'It's such a long way for you to drive,' he protested.
'No such thing—just about an hour even if the traffic's heavy.'
And so it was arranged; they were to meet in the lobby of the Adelphi the following Saturday. This time Kim wore a rather slinky dress of turquoise satin with slits up both sides of the skirt. She had never liked the dress but decided she must get some wear out of it nevertheless, It made her appear older and more worldly, and when she looked at herself in the long mirror as she entered the hotel, she wished fervently she had worn something else.
To her surprise Dendras was not there, but just as she was about to sit down to wait, he appeared. He was not alone.
Walking beside him was a tall dark foreigner, lithe of frame and stern of feature, arrogance and good breeding in every majestic step he took. People turned their heads to follow his progress; he seemed to dominate the entire scene, and Kim, knowing instinctively who he was, likened him to some powerful Greek god, even the great Zeus himself.
'Kim, meet Vidas!' Dendras's words came swiftly; he was shy, unsure of himself in his brother's presence, and Kim could very well understand why. Vidas Christou was the most impressive, and at the same time forbidding, man she had ever set eyes on. Well over six feet in height, he had the gait and form of an athlete in his prime. His dark aquiline features seemed to stamp themselves on her mind even before she had time to examine them. She was fascinated by his eyes; they were almost black and hooded, which gave them a lazy expression, while, conversely, they were piercing and shrewd, eyes that would miss nothing. His skin was clear and brown, tightly stretched above facial hollows so that the high cheekbones were accentuated, as were the rigid jawline and outthrust chin. His mouth was thin and yet sensuous, his nose straight, with fine nostrils that appeared to be flaring as he stared down at Kim, one lean brown hand extended, ready to grip hers. Contempt was spread over his face, and it was plain that he disliked her on sight—just as she disliked him, intensely. He seemed rather older than his thirty-five years, and Kim spitefully put this down to his amorous exploits.
'How do you do?' he said in a deep foreign voice. 'So you have been keeping company with my brother?' The dark eyes slid in almost insolent examination from her face to the low neckline of the dress and down to where one of the slits revealed a shapely leg from the ankle to the thigh. She went hot all over, lowering her eyes against the undisguised scorn in his. But she remained conscious of those dark eyes burning into her bare shoulders, then settling on the seductive valley between her barely covered breasts. Dendras was shifting uncomfortably on his feet, and when at last his voice was heard, it was cracked and urgent.
'Vidas arrived unexpectedly this morning, so I—I asked him to come along and meet you—' His eyes roamed over her figure, puzzlement and censure in their depths. 'He's dining with us, Kim. I've booked a table for three instead of two.'
'I see.' She was enveloped in guilt without knowing why; all she did know was that never in her life had she felt so small and cheap, so totally lacking in self-assurance. This man, with his air of severe austerity, was deliberately disconcerting her; she was sure of it even before he said, in a voice rather less accented than his brother's, 'I expected to meet someone much younger. Do you mind telling me your age?'
Her eyes glinted, anger surging within her. 'I would rather not,' she answered shortly.
The hooded Greek eyes fixed hers in a narrowed humorless stare. 'I suspect you are at least eight years older than my brother.'
Kim's temper flared. She might look older than her years at this moment, but she was sure she did not appear to be approaching thirty! 'You can suggest what you like,' she seethed, conscious even in her anger of the man's attractions, his noble features, his superlative physique… plus a strange magnetism that drew and held her even in the face of her profound dislike of him.
'Vidas didn't mean anything insulting,' Dendras interposed unhappily. 'Shall we have a drink?' Imploring eyes sought those of his brother, who stared at him inscrutably without replying. 'It's not much fun just standing here, is it?'
Vidas nodded, then smiled unexpectedly. 'You're quite right,' he agreed. 'Let us go into the lounge.'
It was inevitable that the meal would be a failure, for neither Kim nor Dendras was at ease. Vidas spoke a great deal, mainly to ask Kim about herself and her family. She answered, fully aware that he was baiting her, having been given the wrong impression by Dendras. He wanted to know all about her, believing she wanted to marry his brother. And while the kind and obvious course would have been to disillusion him, some imp of mischief, born of her dislike, impelled her to remain silent about her intentions regarding his brother. Let him worry! She hoped he'd lie awake all night!
'Why did he come over?' she asked Dendras when, for a short while, they were alone, Vidas having left them as they all moved from the restaurant to the lounge where the coffee was being served.
'He had some business to do in London and decided to fly up here to see me. At least, that's what he said.'
'Why did you let him believe we were serious?'
'I was flustered when I saw him there, at the university, in my room, and it seemed silly to tell him I was dining with a girl who'd thrown me over, especially as it was the girl I'd hoped to marry. So I let him believe it was serious.'
'And how are you intending to get out of it?'
'I'll have to think—' He stopped as Vidas rejoined them and sat down, his every movement as lithe as a jungle cat's, his features set, carved in the way that the forces of nature carve rock. Strange, unfathomable man, thought Kim. Did he ever unbend? Was he human?
It was a relief when the time came for them to leave the hotel. Dendras, looking exceedingly unhappy, bade her a rather stiff good night when, after he and Vidas had walked with her to her car, he stood for a moment looking at her in the light from the hotel. 'When shall I see you again?'
'I'll give you a ring,' she promised, and after unlocking the door and sliding behind the wheel, was soon driving away, a sigh of relief on her lips.