"What a charming picture!" she cried in sudden desperation. "Let me go, Nikolas. I won't stay with you."
"You'll have to," he told her, his black eyes gleaming. "The island is mine, and no one leaves without my permission. The people are loyal to me; they won't help you to escape no matter how you charm them."
Impotently she glared at him. "I'll make you a laughingstock," she warned.
"Try it, my dear, and you'll find out the extent of a Greek husband's authority over his wife," he warned. "I won't look such a laughingstock when you're sitting on pillows."
"You'd better not lay a hand on me!" she said furiously. "You may be Greek, but I'm not, and I won't be punished by you."
"I doubt if it will be necessary," he said, drawling now, and she knew that he was once more in command of the situation and aware of what he was going to do. "You'll be more cautious now about pushing me, won't you,love?"
"Get out!" she shouted, rising to her feet in a temper that made her forget her tender head, and she was forcefully reminded of her injuries as nauseating pain crashed into her skull and she wobbled on her unsteady feet. Instantly he was beside her, lifting her in his arms and placing her on the bed, easing her down onto the pillows. Through a haze of pain she said again, "Go away!"
"I'll go, until you've calmed down," he told her, leaning over her like the devil in her dreams. "But I'll be back, and I'll take you back to the island with me. Like it or not, you're my wife now and you'll stay my wife." On those final words he left her, and she stared through a mist of tears at the ceiling, wondering how she could endure such open warfare in the place of marriage.
* * *
Chapter Eleven
But it wasn't open warfare. Nikolas wouldn't allow that, and she was helpless to fight him. The only weapon she had was her coldness, and she used that relentlessly, not giving an inch to him when he came to visit her. He ignored her lack of response and talked to her pleasantly, telling her of the day-to-day happenings on the island and the people who asked about her. Everyone sent their love and wanted to know when she would be out of the hospital, and she found it extraordinarily difficult to keep from responding to that. In the few short days she had been on the island she had been made so welcome that she missed the people there, especially Petra and Sophia.
It was on the morning that she was released from the hospital that Nikolas shredded her self-possession, and he did it so easily that afterward she realized he had only been waiting until she was stronger to take action. When he sauntered into her room and found her already dressed and ready to leave, he kissed her casually before she could draw back, then released her before she could react to that, either.
"I'm glad you're ready," he commented, picking up the small suitcase containing the few clothes he had brought for her stay in the hospital. "Maman and Petra gave me strict orders to bring you back as soon as possible, and Sophia has cooked a special dinner for you.
Would you like to have soupa avgolemono, eh? You liked that, didn't you?"
"Why don't you save yourself the trouble of taking me back and just put me on a plane for London?" she asked coolly.
"And what if you did go to London?" he returned, looking down at her with exasperation in his eyes. "You'd be alone, the butt of more cruelty than you can imagine, especially if you're pregnant."
Stunned, she looked up at him and he said mockingly, "Unless you took precautions? No? I didn't think so, and I confess that the thought never entered my mind."
Impotently she glared at him. She wanted to hit him, and at the same time she melted oddly inside at the thought of having his baby. Damn him, in spite of everything, she knew with a bitter sense of resignation that she still loved him. It wasn't something she would recover from, yet she wanted to hurt him because he had hurt her. She was shocked at the violence of her feelings and she tore her gaze away from him, looking down at her hands.
It took every ounce of her willpower to keep the tears from falling and she said defeatedly, "All right. I'll stay until I know if I'm going to have a baby or not."
"That could take a while," he told her, smiling smugly. "After your fall, your entire system could be out of balance. And I intend to do everything I can to make you pregnant if that's what it takes to keep you on the island."
"Oh!" she cried, drawing away from him, shattered at the thought. Her panic was plain in her eyes as she stared at him. "Nikolas, no. I can't take that again."
"It won't be like that again," he assured her, reaching out to catch her arm.
"I won't let you touch me!"
"That's another right husbands have over wives." He grinned, pulling her to him. "Make up your mind to it now, pet; I'm going to be exercising my marital rights. That's why I married you."
She was so upset that she went without protest to the taxi he had waiting, and she didn't talk to him at all on the drive through Athens to the airport. At any other time she would have been enchanted with the city, but now she was frightened by his words and her head had begun to ache.
Nikolas's own helicopter was at the airport, fueled up and ready for flight, and through a haze of pain Jessica realized that he must have brought her to the hospital in the helicopter. She had no memory of anything after the last time she fainted on the rocks, and suddenly she wanted to know what had happened.
"Nikolas, you found me, didn't you? When I fell?"
"Yes," he said, frowning. He slanted a look down at her and his gaze halted, surveying her pale, strained face.
"What happened then? After you found me, I mean."
He took her arm and led her across the tarmac to the helicopter, walking slowly and letting her lean on him. "At first I thought you were dead," he said remotely, but the harsh breath he drew told her that the memory wasn't something he could handle easily, even now. "When I got down to you, I found that you were still alive and I dug you out from under those rocks, then carried you back up to the villa. Sophia was already up; she was beginning to cook when she saw me coming up the path with you, and she ran to help me."
They had reached the helicopter and he opened the door, then lifted her onto the seat and closed the door securely. He walked around and slid his long frame onto the seat in front of the controls and reached for the headset. He looked at it in his hand, frowning absently. "You were soaked, and shivering," he continued. "While Andros contacted the hospital and made arrangements for transportation from the airport to the hospital, Maman and I stripped you and wrapped you in blankets, then we flew here. You were in deep shock and surgery was postponed, though the doctors were concerned, but Alex told me that you almost certainly wouldn't survive major surgery at that time; your condition had to stabilize before he could even consider it."
"Then I got better," she finished for him, smiling wanly.
He didn't smile in return. "Your responses were better," he muttered. "But you developed a fever, and your lungs were inflamed. Sometimes you were unconscious; sometimes you were delirious and screamed whenever I or any of the doctors came near you." He turned his head to look at her, his eyes flat and bitter. "At least it wasn't just me; you screamed at every man."
She couldn't tell him that it had been him she had feared, and after a moment of silence he put the headset on and reached for the radio controls. Jessica leaned her head back and closed her eyes, willing the throb in her temples to go away, but when the rotors began turning, it increased the pain and she winced. A hand on her knee brought her eye-lids fluttering open and at Nikolas's concerned, questioning gaze she put her hands over her ears to let him know what was wrong. He nodded and patted her leg sympathetically, which made her want to cry. She closed her eyes again, shutting out the vision of him.
Unbelievably, she slept on the flight back to the island. Perhaps there was something in the medication she was still taking that made her drowsy, but Nikolas had to wake her when the flight was over and she sat up in confusion to see what seemed like the entire population of the island turned out for her arrival.
Everyone was smiling and waving and she waved back, touched to tears by the warmth she felt from the islanders. Nikolas jumped from the helicopter, yelling something that made everyone laugh, then he reached her side as she released her seat belt and he slid the door open.
With an ease that both frightened and elated her, he reached in and lifted her against his chest "I can walk," she protested.
"Not down the hill," he said. "You're still too wobbly. Put your arms around me, love; let everyone see what they want to see."
It was true that when she slid her arms around his muscular neck it seemed to please everyone, and several jocular-sounding remarks were made to him, to which he responded with grins and several remarks of his own. Jessica promised herself that she would learn Greek without delay; she wanted to know what he was saying about her.
He carried her down to the villa and straight to his bedroom, for she couldn't think of it as theirs. As he placed her on the bed, she looked around wildly, and before she could choke the words back, she cried out, "I can't sleep here, Nikolas!"
With a sigh he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry you feel that way, darling, because you'll have to sleep here. Rather, you'll have to sleep with me, and that's what has you worried, isn't it?"
"Can you blame me?" she questioned fiercely.
"Yes, I can," he returned calmly, his black eyes implacable. "You're an intelligent, adult woman, and you should be capable of realizing that future lovemaking between us will be nothing like our wedding night. I was half-drunk, frustrated, and I lost control. You were frightened and angry and you fought me. The result was predictable and you got hurt. It won't be like that again, Jessica. The next time I take you, you'll enjoy it as much as I will."
"Can't you understand that I don't want you?" she flashed, unreasonably angry that he should so calmly plan on making love to her when she had said he couldn't. "Really, Nikolas, your conceit must be colossal if you imagine that I'd want to sleep with you after that night."
Temper flared in his eyes. "You can thank God that I know you so well, Jessica, or I'd make you regret those words!" he snapped. "But I do know you, and I know that when you're hurt and frightened you strike back like a spitting, clawing kitten, and you have years of practice in putting on that cold mask of yours. Oh, no, darling, you don't fool me. No matter how your pride tells you to resist me, I remember a night in London when you came to me and whispered that you loved me. You were sweet and shy that night; you weren't acting. Do you remember it, too?"
Jessica's eyes closed in horror. That night! How could she forget? And how like Nikolas to remember the secret she had said aloud, thinking that he'd return the sweet words and admit to loving her. But he hadn't, not then and not since. Words of passion had come from his lips, but never words of love. Shaking, she cried out, "Remember? How can I forget? Like a fool I let you get too close to me, and the words were barely out of my mouth when you slapped me in the face with your true opinion of me. At least you opened my eyes, jerked me out of my silly dream. Love isn't immortal, Nikolas. It can die."
"Your's didn't die," he murmured confidently, a smile curving his hard, chiseled lips. "You married me, and you wanted your white gown for the wedding. You wore your hair in the style of a virgin; yes, I noticed. Everything you did shouted that you were marrying me forever, and that's how it will be. I've hurt you, darling, and I've made you unhappy, but I'll make it up to you. By the time our first baby is born, you'll have forgotten that I ever made you shed a tear."
That remark almost made her leap off the bed, and to prove him wrong she promptly burst into tears, which played havoc with her headache. With a comforting murmur Nikolas took her in his arms and lay down on the bed with her to hold her close and whisper soothingly to her, and perversely his nearness did calm her. At last she hiccupped into silence and nestled closer against him, her face buried in his shirt. Out of that doubtful sanctuary she said hesitantly, "Nikolas?"
"Yes, darling?" he muttered, his deep voice rumbling under her ear.
"Will—will you give me a little time, please?" she asked, raising her tear-stained face to him.
"I'll only give you time to recover completely," he replied, brushing her hair back from her temples with gentle fingers. "Beyond that, I won't wait. I can't. I still want you like mad, Mrs. Constantinos. Our wedding night was a mere appetizer."
She quivered in his arms at the sudden vision she had of being devoured by him, as if he were a hungry animal. She felt torn by indecision, loving him but unable to give in to him, to trust him or know what he was about. "Please don't rush me," she whispered. "I'll try; I really will. But I—I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you."
One corner of his mouth jerked before he firmed his lips together and said, "Forgive me or not, you're still mine, and I'll never let you go. I'll repeat it as many times as I have to to make you believe me."
"We've made a mess of it, Niko," she whispered painfully, tears filling her eyes again as she used the shortened, affectionate version of his name for the first time.
"Yes, I know," he muttered, his eyes going bleak. "We'll just have to try to salvage something and make our marriage work."
After he had gone, Jessica lay on the bed trying to quiet her confused emotions; she felt so many things at once that she was helpless to sort them out. With part of herself she wanted to melt into his arms and give in to the love which she still felt for him in spite of everything that had happened; the other part of her was bitterly angry and resentful and wanted to get as far away from him as possible. For years, she had suppressed pain and loneliness, but Nikolas had ripped away the barrier of her self-control and she could no longer push away or ignore the aches. Her long-controlled emotions were boiling out of her in a bitter release, and she resented the way he had torn away her defenses.
What a mockery of a marriage, she thought tiredly. A woman shouldn't require defenses against her husband; a marriage should be based on mutual trust and respect, and even now Nikolas felt neither of those things for her. She had thought that when he realized how wrong his assumptions concerning her had been, his entire attitude would change, but she'd been wrong. Perhaps he no longer resented her so bitterly, but he still would not allow her any authority concerning her own life. He wanted to control her, make her every movement subject to his whim, and Jessica didn't think she could tolerate a life like that.
After a time she dozed, and woke to the long shadows of late afternoon. Her headache had eased; in fact, it was gone, and she felt better than she had since the accident. Getting out of bed, she walked carefully to the bathroom, fearing an onset of her headache, but it didn't return and gratefully she stripped off her wrinkled clothing and ran water in the huge, red-tiled sunken tub. Petra had supplied the bathroom with an assortment of toiletries that surely Nikolas had never used, unless he had a hidden passion for perfumed bubble bath, and she poured the liquid liberally into the tub until it had mountains of foam in it.
After pinning her hair up, she stepped into the tub and sank down until the bubbles tickled her chin. She reached for the soap, then gave a frightened squeal as the door opened without warning. Nikolas stepped through, a worried frown creasing his brow, but the frown turned into a grin as he surveyed her where she lay, all but submerged in the bubbles. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said.
"I'm taking a bath," she said indignantly, and his grin spread wider.
"So I see," he agreed, dropping his tall frame onto the floor by the tub and sprawling out to lean on his elbow. "I'll keep you company, since this is the first time I've been privileged to witness your bath and wild horses couldn't drag me away."
"Nikolas!" she wailed, her cheeks flushing red.
"Now, calm down," he soothed, reaching out to run a finger over her nose. "I promised you that I wouldn't make a pass at you, and I won't, but I didn't promise that I wouldn't get to know my wife and let her become accustomed to me."
He was lying. Suddenly she knew that he was lyin
g and she jerked away from his hand, tears springing to her eyes. "Get away from me!" she cried hoarsely. "I don't believe you, Nikolas! I can't stand it. Please, please go away!" If he stayed, he would take her to bed and make love to her, regardless of his promise. He had only told her that to catch her off guard, and she couldn't submit to him again. Shuddering sobs began to quake through her body, and with a muffled curse he got to his feet, his face darkening with fury.
"All right," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll leave you alone. God, how I'll leave you alone! A man can take only so much, Jessica, and I've had it! Keep your empty bed; I'll sleep elsewhere." He stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him with a force that jarred it on its hinges, and a second later she heard the bedroom door slam, too.
She winced and drew a shuddering breath, trying to control herself again. Oh, it was useless; this marriage would never work. Somehow she'd have to convince Nikolas to set her free, and after tonight that shouldn't be too difficult.
Nikolas, however, proved himself unyielding in his refusal to let her leave the island. She was aware that he looked at the situation as a battle he had every intention of winning, despite her constant maneuvering to keep a comfortable distance between them. She also saw that his anger at her in the bathroom had been largely staged, for what reason she didn't know. He was irritated that she didn't fall into his arms whenever he touched her, the way she had prior to their marriage, but he had no intention of denying himself the pleasures of her body if he could find the slightest weakness in her resistance. He was simply waiting, watching her carefully, ready to pounce.
The strain of keeping up a front of calmness and serenity before everyone else was telling on her, but she didn't want to distress Nikolas's mother, or even Petra or Sophia. Everyone had been so kind to her—after her release from the hospital she had been coddled shamelessly by the entire household—that the last thing she wanted was to worry them with a warlike atmosphere. By silent, mutual consent, she and Nikolas let it be assumed that he slept in another room because her head still ached and his restlessness interfered with her sleep. As she was still plagued by headaches if she tried to exert herself in any way, the explanation was accepted without question.