The vibration of the metal made her feel as if her skin were crawling, and already she had a cramp in her left calf. She cautiously moved her arm to rub the painful cramp, glad that the beating roar of the blades drowned out all sound. The noise reached a peculiar whine, and they lifted off, the aircraft tilting forward as Nikolas turned it away from the house and toward the sea that lay between the island and Athens.
Jessica had no idea how long the flight lasted, for her head was aching so badly that she closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in sleep. She didn't quite succeed, but she must have dozed because it was the cessation of noise as the blades slowed that alerted her to the fact that they had landed. Nikolas and Andros were talking, and after a moment they both left the helicopter. Jessica lay there listening to the dying whir of the blades. She was afraid to get out immediately in case they were still in the area, so she counted slowly to one thousand before she left her hiding place.
She was so stiff that she had to sit in a seat and rub her protesting legs before they would obey her, and her feet tingled as the circulation was restored. Retrieving the suitcase from behind the seat, she peered out, but could see no one who resembled her husband; so she took a deep breath, opened the door, and climbed out of the helicopter.
It surprised her that no one paid any attention to her as she walked casually across the tarmac and entered the terminal building. She knew from her own experiences that comings and goings at air terminals were carefully watched, and the very fact that no one stopped her to ask her business made her uneasy. It was still early, and though there were a good many people in the building it lacked the crush of the later hours; the women's rest room was almost empty, and none of the women there noticed her as she slipped into one of the stalls and locked the door, then opened her suitcase and took out her purse and the dress she was going to wear. Marveling at the modem fabrics which didn't wrinkle, she stripped off her jeans and shirt and folded them into the open case, then struggled into panty hose and pulled the dress over her head. The smooth, silky fabric felt good against her skin, and she settled the ice blue garment into place, then contorted her arms behind her back to do up the zipper.
Comfortable, classic pumps completed the outfit. She placed her other shoes in the suitcase, then fastened it and picked it up in one hand, together with her purse, and left the cubicle.
She did a quick job on her hair, twisting it up and securing it loosely with a few pins, and added glossy coral color to her mouth. Her eyes stared back at her from the mirror, wide and filled with alarm, and she wished that she had sunglasses to hide behind.
Leaving the security of the rest room, she approached the ticket counter and asked the cost of a tourist class ticket to London. Luckily the fare was well within her means, and she purchased a ticket for the next available flight, but there she was stalled. The next flight wasn't until after lunch, and Jessica quailed at the thought of waiting that long. She would be missed on the island long before that; probably even now it had been noticed that she wasn't to be found. Would they search the island first, or notify Nikolas that his wife had disappeared? If only she'd thought to leave a note telling them that she'd gone with Nikolas! That way, no one would have known that she was missing, until Nikolas returned without her.
Her stomach protested its emptiness; so she went to the restaurant and ordered a light breakfast, then sat at the small table trying to force the food down her tight throat. The thought of something going wrong at this late stage was horrifying.
Leaving most of her meal on the plate, she purchased a fashion magazine and tried to ignore her anxiety as she flipped through the glossy pages, noting the newest styles. A glance at her watch increased her anxiety; surely Nikolas had been notified by now. What would he do? He had endless resources; he could tighten security to make certain that she didn't leave the country. She had to be on that jet before he discovered that she had left the island.
The clock ticked slowly, laboriously on. She forced herself to sit quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself by pacing or in any way betraying her nervousness. The terminal was crowded now as tourists poured into Athens, and she tried to concentrate on the stream of people. How much longer? It was almost noon now. An hour and a half and she would be on her way, provided that there were no delays in takeoff.
When she felt someone at her elbow, she didn't respond immediately, hoping that it was a stranger, but the utter stillness told her that this was a forlorn hope. Fatalistically, Jessica turned her head and gazed calmly into the stony black eyes of her husband.
Though his face was expressionless, she could feel the force of his anger, and she knew that he was livid. Never before had she seen him this angry, and it took more courage than she had known she possessed to stand before him and give him back look for look, but she did it, lifting her chin defiantly. A savage glitter lit his eyes for a brief second, then he disciplined himself and leaned down to pick up her suitcase. "Come with me," he uttered between clenched teeth, and his long fingers wrapped around her arm to ensure that she did as he had ordered.
* * *
Chapter Twelve
He took her out to the parking area, where a dark blue limousine waited; to her embarrassment, Andros sat in the back. He moved to the opposite end of the seat, and Nikolas helped Jessica in, then climbed in beside her. He spoke sharply to the driver, and the vehicle was set in motion.
It was an utterly silent drive. Nikolas was grim, un-speaking, and she had no intention of unleashing his temper if she could avoid it. In a way, she decided that she was grateful for Andros's presence, as it forced her husband to restrain himself. She couldn't even think about later, when they would be alone.
The limousine stopped at the front entrance of a hotel so modern it would have fit in in the middle of Los Angeles more than in a city which had existed for thousands of years. Dragged along like a child in tow, she was forced to match Nikolas's long strides as they entered the hotel and took the elevator up to the penthouse. He probably owned the hotel, she thought wryly.
She was braced for the worst, and it was an anticlimax when he opened the door and ushered her inside the luxurious apartment, said tersely to Andros, "Don't let her out of your sight," and then left without even glancing at her.
When the door had closed behind him, Andros whistled soundlessly between his teeth. He looked at Jessica ruefully. "I've never seen him so angry before," he told her.
"I know," she said, letting out her breath in a long sigh. "I'm sorry you had to be involved."
He shrugged. "He won't be angry with me unless I let you escape from me, and I don't intend to do that. I'm attached to my neck, and prefer to remain so. How did you leave the island?"
"I hid on the helicopter," she explained, sitting down in one of the extremely comfortable chairs and running her fingers over the royal blue upholstery. "I had it all planned, and it worked like a charm—except that the flight to London wasn't until after lunch."
He shook his head. "It wouldn't have made any difference. Don't you know that Niko would have traced you long before your flight landed, and you would have been met as you left the plane? Met and detained?"
She hadn't thought of that, and she sighed. If only she had left that note! "I wasn't leaving him for good," she explained, her voice troubled. "But I need some time by myself to think…" She halted, unwilling to discuss her marriage with Andros. He was much friendlier than he had been before he discovered that she loved Nikolas, but some basic reserve made it difficult for her to be so open.
Andros sat down across from her, his lean, dark face anxious. "Jessica, please remember that Niko isn't a man of compromises; yet he has constantly compromised his own rules since he met you. I don't know what has gone wrong between you. I thought that after the wedding things would be better. Would it make you feel more confident to know that Nikolas must care for you, or he wouldn't act as he does?"
No, that didn't help. Sometimes she thought that Nikolas was capable
of feeling nothing but lust for her, and guilt that their wedding night had been such a fiasco for her. Their relationship was so tangled that she wondered if anything could save it now.
"Where did he go?" she asked, her spirit draining from her as she remembered how he had refused to look at her. She had insulted him, deceived him, and he wouldn't easily forgive her.
"Back to the meeting he was attending," answered Andros. "It was urgent, or he wouldn't have returned."
Another black mark against her. He had left an important meeting to collect her, and he would be furious that others knew his wife was attempting to leave him.
"No one else knew," said Andros, guessing her thoughts. "He told me only when we were on the way to the airport."
Thank heaven for small favors, she thought, though she doubted that it would make much difference to Nikolas's temper.
There was nothing to do but wait for him to return; though there were books aplenty in the apartment, she couldn't settle down to read. Andros ordered lunch for both of them, and again she had to force herself to eat. After that, time dragged. She put records on the stereo and tried to relax, a useless effort; instead she paced the room, rubbing her arms as if she were chilled.
The magnificent sun was setting when the door finally opened and Nikolas entered, his dark face still a mask which revealed nothing. He didn't say a word to Jessica but conversed with Andros in rapid Greek. Finally Andros nodded and left the apartment, and she was alone with Nikolas.
Her stomach tightened in anticipation, but still he didn't look at her. Pulling his tie loose from his neck, he muttered, "Order dinner while I shower. And don't even try to leave; the staff will stop you before you reach the street."
She believed him and bit her lip in consternation as he disappeared into one of the rooms that opened off the lounge area. She hadn't explored the apartment, having been too nervous to have any interest in her surroundings, so she had no idea of what the different rooms were. Obediently she lifted the telephone and ordered dinner from someone who spoke excellent English, subconsciously choosing those foods that she had noticed Nikolas particularly liked. Was it a feminine instinct, to soothe away male ire by an offering of food? she wondered. When she realized what she had done, she smiled wryly at herself, feeling a strange kinship with cavewomen from thousands and thousands of years ago.
The food arrived as Nikolas reentered the lounge, his black hair still damp from his shower. He was simply dressed in black pants and a white silk shirt which clung to his body in patches where his skin was wet, leaving his dark skin visible beneath the thin fabric. She watched his face, trying to gauge the extent of his anger, but it was like trying to read a blank wall.
"Sit down," he said remotely. "You've had a busy day; you need to replenish your strength."
The lamb chops and artichoke hearts were the best she had ever tasted, and she was able to eat with an improved appetite despite his hostile presence across from her. She was nearly finished before he spoke again, and she realized that he had waited until then to keep from upsetting her and ruining her appetite.
"I called Maman," he said, "and told her that you were with me. She was frantic, of course; they all were. You'll apologize for your thoughtlessness when we return home, though I managed to gloss over it by telling Maman that you had smuggled yourself to Athens in order to be with me. She was glad that you felt well enough to pursue me so romantically," he finished sarcastically, and Jessica flushed.
"I didn't think of leaving a note until it was too late," she confessed.
He shrugged. "No matter. You'll be forgiven."
She placed her fork carefully beside the plate and gathered her courage. "I wasn't leaving you," she offered in explanation. "At least—"
"It damned well looked as though you were!" he snapped.
"Not permanently," she persisted.
"You're right about that. I would have had you back within two days at the most." He appeared to be on the verge of saying something else, but he bit back the words and said instead, "If you've finished, it would probably be wise if you took your bath now. I'll probably break your neck if I have to listen to your excuses right now!"
For a moment, Jessica sat there defiantly; then she pressed her lips together and did as he had directed. He was in no mood to be reasonable right now, and if she listened to very much more of his sarcasm she was likely to lose her own temper, and she didn't want that to happen. Scenes between herself and Nikolas could quickly become violent and always ended in the same manner, with him making love to her.
She locked herself in the giant bathroom and took a shower, not being in the mood for a long, relaxing bath in the tub. As she toweled herself dry, she noticed a dark blue robe hanging on a hook on the door, and as she hadn't brought a nightgown with her she borrowed the robe and tied it about her. It was enormous, and she had to roll the sleeves up before her hands peeped out She had to lift the hem in order to walk, and she held the gathered material in her hand as she left the bathroom.
"Very fetching," Nikolas drawled from his reclining position on the bed.
Jessica stopped cold, glaring at him. He had turned off all the lights except for the bedside lamp, and the covers on the bed were turned back. He had also undressed.
She didn't pretend to misunderstand his intentions. Nervously she pushed her hair back from her face. "I don't want to sleep with you."
"That's good, because I have no intention of sleeping."
Her face flamed with temper. "Don't play word games with me! You know very well what I mean."
His black eyes were narrowed as he surveyed her from her bare feet to her disheveled hair. "Yes, I know very well that you have an aversion to sharing a bed with me, but I'm your husband, and I'm tired of my empty bed. It's obvious that if you're well enough to smuggle yourself to Athens, you're well enough to fulfill your wifely obligations."
"You're strong enough that I can't fight you off," she said fiercely. "But you know that I'm not willing. Why can't you listen to me? Why do you refuse to let me decide for myself how I feel?"
He merely shook his head. "Don't try to throw up a smoke screen of words; it won't work. Take off the robe and come here."
Defiantly she crossed her arms and glared at him. "I wasn't leaving you!" she insisted. "I just wanted some time by myself to—to think and get myself on an even keel again, and I knew you'd never loosen the chains and let me go if I asked you."
"I'm sorry you feel that way about our marriage," he replied in a silky voice, his expression dangerous. "Jessica, darling, are you going to come here, or am I going to have to fetch you?"
"I expect you'll have to fetch me," she stated, not giving in an inch. She tensed all over at the thought of a repeat of his earlier lovemaking, and her face must have revealed the fear she felt because some of the sternness left his expression.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said, uncoiling his length from the bed with a wild grace. Her breath caught in her throat at the untamed beauty of his naked male body, but at the same time she stepped back in alarm.
"No. I don't want to," she said childishly, putting up a hand to ward him off. He merely caught it and used it to pull her close to him, the male scent of him enveloping her and making her feel surrounded by him.
"Don't fight me," he whispered, opening the robe with his free hand and pushing it away from her shoulders to let it drop about her feet in a blue pool. "I promise you won't be hurt, darling. It's time you learned about being my wife, and it's a lesson you'll enjoy."
Jessica shivered, rigid with anxiety, and goose bumps roughened her skin as he leaned down to press his hot mouth into the tender hollow of her shoulder. She remembered the night before, when he had roused her gently into desire, then left her unfulfilled, a calculated move that had left her feeling both insulted and frustrated. His physical desires were hot and demanding, but his brain always remained alert and cool, unaffected by the wildly shifting emotions that kept her so unsettled. Was this me
rely another calculated maneuver as he tried to break her spirit, tame her into accepting his authority?
She wrenched away from him, shaking her head in denial. "No," she said again, though she had no hope that he would accept her refusal.
He moved swiftly, lifting her into his arms and carrying her the few steps to the bed. He placed her on the cool sheet and followed her down, his arms and legs securing hers and holding her motionless. "Just relax," he crooned, trailing soft kisses over her shoulder and neck, then up to her trembling lips. "I'll take care of you, darling; there's nothing to be afraid of this time."
Violently Jessica turned her head away from him, and he pressed his lips instead to the line of her jaw, the sensitive shell of her ear. She made a strangled sound of protest, and he murmured soothingly to her, continuing the light kisses as he trailed his fingers over her body, learning the soft slopes and curves and reassuring her that this time he wasn't going to be impatient with her.
She tried to hold herself away from the seductive quality of those light, elusive touches on her skin, but she wasn't cold by nature, and eventually her sense of awareness began to dim and grow hazy. Imperceptibly she began to relax in his arms, and her skin warmed, taking on the flushed glow of a woman who was awakening to desire. Still he lingered over her, stroking and petting her almost as if she were a cat, and finally she let her breath out in a tremulous sigh and turned her head to seek his mouth with hers.
His kiss was slow and deep, passionate without being demanding, and he continued until at last her control broke and she moved eagerly against him, her arms winding around his neck. Excitement coursed through her veins and she felt on fire, her skin burning, and only the touch of his hands and body gave her any relief.
Finally she could stand it no longer and clutched at him with desperate hands, and he moved over her and possessed her soft body with the urgent masculinity of his. Jessica caught her breath on a sob and arched herself beneath him, glorying in the sensation of oneness with him, intent on nothing but the growing, pulsing need of her body that he gently satisfied.