The Enigmatic Greek (14 page)

Alex patted her hand. ‘You may do whatever you wish,
glykia mou.
But don’t stay up there too long. If you are not back in your room when I return, I will come and fetch you.’

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled. ‘Is that a promise?’

For answer he stood up and snatched her out of her chair to kiss her. ‘Or I could stay and not go at all,’ he whispered, his breath hot against her neck.

‘Never let it be said I took you away from your responsibilities,’ she said primly and with effort moved out of his arms. ‘You go and do your thing. I shall have my final sunbathe, and then this evening—’

‘We shall go to bed after dinner to enjoy every minute of our last night together,’ he said emphatically, and smiled into her eyes. ‘You agree with me?’

Eleanor flushed. ‘You know I do.’ She began putting the remains of their meal in the trolley and smiled in approval as Alex helped. ‘Well done. I’m having such a good influence on you.’

‘Very true.’ The dark eyes met hers with intensity that quickened her pulse. ‘It was my great good fortune that your Ross McLean sent you to interview me.’

‘Not
quite
your original reaction,’ she retorted, her tone tart to hide her delight.

‘No,
kyria
journalist, it was not! But now it is hard for me to part with you for just an hour.’

This statement pleased her so much, she reached up to kiss him.

He looked down at her in surprise. ‘You kissed me.’

‘You didn’t like it?’

He seized her in his arms. ‘Of course I liked it, but until now I have done the kissing.’

‘I always kiss you back,’ she said breathlessly and gave him a wry little smile. ‘I can’t help it. You kiss me and I’m lost—which,’ she added, pulling away from him, ‘Is not the cleverest thing to admit.’

‘I disagree. It is exactly what a lover wants to hear,’ he assured her as they went along the hall and smiled as her eyes opened wide. ‘I will prove it to you later,’ he assured her, then kissed her and opened the door to her room. ‘I must go. Do not stay up on the roof too long.’

‘Are you getting to your vineyards by boat?’

Alex shook his head. ‘I keep an off-road vehicle here on the island.’ He strode off to the lift and waved a hand to her as the doors opened.
‘Antia, glykia mou.’

E
LEANOR
soon settled under a parasol in the roof garden, but found it so hard to concentrate on the not very thrilling plot she put her book down, feeling tired. The last couple of days had made such demands on her stamina, a short nap was necessary since she was unlikely to get much sleep tonight. Stretching like a cat in the sun at the thought, she woke later, yawning, to find she’d been asleep for more than an hour. She put her belongings in her bag and crossed over to the balustrade to gaze at the sun glittering on the sea, turned away to take a last look at the roof garden and with a sigh went down the stairs into the relative dimness of the hall. A hard arm closed round her, and she smiled in the split second before a gag was thrust in her mouth and she found her captor wasn’t Alex.

She gave smothered sounds of violent protest and fought wildly, kicking out as her hands were wrenched behind her back, but she stopped dead when a knife was brandished before her startled eyes. Afraid to move as her wrists were tied cruelly tight, she was jerked round to face a man with a pelt of close-cut black curls above a broad, low-browed face, his eyes glittering with such menace Eleanor abandoned all idea of struggling in case he set to work with his knife. He slung her bag over his shoulder, and with a torch
in one hand seized her arm with the other to hurry her down the old, spiral stone stairs.

When they reached the hall level he stopped, cursing in a vicious undertone at the sound of car doors slamming and voices outside. Eleanor tried to make a break for it, but he jerked her back and hauled her down into the labyrinthine depths of the old
Kastro
at such breakneck speed she was in constant fear of spraining an ankle as she tried to undo the clasp of her bracelet without her captor noticing. Her relief was intense when the chain slipped from her wrist as her captor chivvied her on a dizzying route along passageways, down flights of steps and finally thrust her into a cave-like space with a narrow aperture which let in just enough light for her to see him heave a tall stone across the opening.

Her captor pushed her to a stone ledge, his hand heavy on her shoulder to force her to sit. Head throbbing and heart knocking against her ribs, Eleanor glared at the man furiously, hoping her eyes were giving off the sparks Alex liked so much. Alex!
Please
let him find the bracelet and come looking for her. She clenched her teeth against rising nausea, but the final bout of rough handling had been the last straw. Eleanor’s stomach gave such a sickening lurch she began to heave, and in panic made smothered sounds of desperate entreaty. He scowled at her, but after a moment’s indecision tore the gag from her mouth. She took in a great gulp of musty air, willing her stomach to behave as he spoke roughly to her.

‘Don’t understand,’ she gasped, swallowing convulsively. ‘I’m British.’

He gaped, thunderstruck.

She nodded feverishly. ‘I’m a journalist. Here to report on the festival.’

He shook his head angrily. ‘Speak slow.’

Eleanor repeated the words slowly and deliberately, but the man shook his head in sneering disbelief.

‘Alexei Drakos never speak to reporters. You are lovers,
ne
?’

‘No.’ She tried to roll her shoulders. ‘Please—could you untie my wrists? My shoulders are painful.’

He snorted derisively. ‘You think me fool?’

‘You can tie my hands again in front of me.
Parakolo
?’

He picked up the knife, his eyes gloating as he waved it in front of her face. ‘You scream, I cut.’

Eleanor nodded mutely and sat very still as he untied the ropes, but to her shame couldn’t stifle a groan as the blood rushed back into her shoulder muscles and sore wrists.

‘Entaxei
,’ he grunted and yanked the wrists together in front of her to tie them again. He went to the doorway to move the stone a little then turned to her. ‘Quiet, so I can surprise Alexei when he comes to rescue.’ He slashed the knife in front of his throat in graphic illustration then slithered through the narrow opening.

Eleanor set to work to loosen her bonds, but after a fruitless interval with only her teeth as tools she gave up torturing her sore wrists to study the ancient stone block walling her in. There were depressions on it which provided natural handholds for manoeuvring, so when Alex had been searching down here in the dark it must have looked like part of a wall instead of an opening into this cave-like cell. Yet Eleanor was sure her captor was no thug. She had an idea he spoke better English than he was letting on. But he definitely wasn’t the man in the bull mask. He was bigger, and there was no tattoo on his forearm. He looked—and smelt—too clean to have been hiding out in this grubby little cave; and his tension was palpable. Something had obviously gone wrong with this kidnap plan too.

Eleanor looked up at the stone ceiling and clenched her
teeth against rising panic at the thought of the weight of centuries over her head. She had to calm down. A pounding headache and sore shoulders and wrists were trouble enough without claustrophobia—another fine Greek word! She tensed as the stone was pushed aside far enough to let her captor slither back into the room.

He gave her what was obviously meant to be an intimidating glare. ‘Alexei come soon. No scream before I say!’

‘Oh please,’ she said with disdain. ‘You speak better English than that.’

He scowled, taken aback, and shook his head. ‘You mistake.’

‘No. The mistake is yours.’ She pointed to his watch. ‘If you want to keep the act, lose the Rolex and expensive clothes. So, tell me, who was the man in the bull mask?’

He thrust a hand through his dark curls, scowling. ‘It was I.’

She shook her head. ‘Right grammar, wrong answer. He had a tattoo.’

He leaned against the wall, looking sulky. ‘He said you fainted.’

‘I did. But I noted the tattoo first.’ Eleanor winced as she shrugged her aching shoulders. ‘I’m a journalist. It’s my job to note details.’

‘You have habit of annoying me, lady. Because of you, Spiro failed to kidnap
kyria
Talia.’ He sneered. ‘Alexei must be
so
grateful to you.’

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know him well, then.’

‘Too well.’ He shrugged and looked at his watch. ‘I heard him talking up there. Our hero will soon rush to the rescue and I will overpower him.’

Eleanor’s heart contracted. The thought of Alex off his guard and vulnerable to whatever weapons this psychopath
had on hand was unbearable. ‘Tell me,’ she said conversationally, ‘Why do you hate him so much?’

A tide of angry colour suffused his astonished face as he yanked her to her feet by her sore wrists. ‘I have reasons.’

She eyed him defiantly to hide how much he’d hurt her. ‘Did you actually intend to harm Alexei’s mother before you exchanged her for ransom money?’

‘
Ochi
, I do not hurt women of her age.’ His hands tightened on her shoulders. ‘Taking her was just the best way to hurt Alexei.’ He took in a deep breath and then smiled with a relish that sent shivers down Eleanor’s spine. ‘But I will enjoy conquering
you, kyria.’

She yanked herself away. ‘Keep your filthy hands off me!’

He laughed reluctantly. ‘You have spirit, English woman. Yet Markos said you fainted with fright when he appeared in the mask.’

Markos
? Yannis’ friend? Eleanor eyed the man disdainfully. ‘Is he the puppet-master, giving you orders?’

Eyes blazing, he pushed her back down on the ledge. ‘No man gives me orders,’ he hissed in fury. ‘Markos is ignorant boy, but useful because poor. I gave him money to buy costume from the dancers.’

‘Why?’

‘To wear it to scare you into coming down to his friend’s boat to bring you to me on Karpyros. But he scared you too much. Our hero rushed to your rescue when you fainted, so Markos ran away and hid the mask.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Alexei knows now that you are missing. When he comes, scream for help to bring him to me. If not,’ he added, fingering the knife, ‘I will enjoy hurting you until you do.’ His mouth twisted in a cynical sneer. ‘The gods sent Talia Kazan to me on Karpyros that day. I was so kind—I brought her over here in my boat because Takis was busy.’

‘Why?’

‘Because when I saw her I had inspiration,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘I would pay someone to kidnap Alexei’s beloved mother during the festival when no one would notice. Then I would hide her on my boat and demand ransom from him.’ He glared at her. ‘But you spoiled my plan. So now you pay. And Alexei will pay to get you back.’

‘If you want money from Alexei, you won’t get any by harming me,’ Eleanor pointed out, her calm infuriating him. She changed tack and gave him a bright, social smile. ‘My name’s Eleanor Markham, by the way. What’s yours?’

His thick black brows shot together in anger. ‘You make fun of me?’

‘Not at all. What
is
your name?’

‘Marinos,’ he said proudly.

Eleanor’s eyebrows rose. ‘Are you related to Alexei’s college friend, Ari?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You know that?’

‘Alexei mentioned a holiday spent on Crete with her.’

‘At my family home, where everyone
love
Alexei. Christina most of all.’

Christina? Eleanor eyed him curiously. ‘Who is she?’

‘She was my girlfriend, but when she saw Alexei she wanted
him
.’ His fists clenched. ‘Christina followed him round like pet dog. She was furious when my sister would not take us with them when she went sailing with Alexei that day, but glad later when Arianna almost died because Drakos lost control of the dinghy when the weather changed. It was only by Poseidon’s will that they were rescued, but then Alexei abandoned Arianna, and I swore to avenge her.’

His eyes lit with a maniacal gleam. ‘When Arianna married Dion Aristides, Christina seized her chance to comfort
Alexei, but when he tired of her she took revenge with the lies she told reporter about him. Now I will get mine.’

‘It’s taken you an amazingly long time to get round to it!’ For a moment Eleanor thought she’d gone too far as he raised a hand to strike her, but his arm dropped and he cocked his head to listen to sounds she’d talked her head off to distract him from. ‘I suppose Alexei is a hard man to get at with his security staff and his constant travelling—’

‘Silence,’ he spat at her, glaring. ‘Our hero is near. So keep very quiet until I give order to scream.’ He seized her wrist and brandished the knife. ‘Or I cut one of your fingers off as gift for Alexei.’

Eleanor’s stomach objected to the idea so much she sat motionless.

‘Eleanor?’ yelled Alex in the distance.

‘He has a knife!’ she screamed at the top of her voice and gave a choked cry as a fist back-handed her across the jaw.

‘And I will use it to mark your whore,’ roared Marinos in English,

‘How stupid! You won’t get money out of him that way,’ Eleanor sneered at him in such derision, Marinos bellowed with rage and lunged at her, but she held him off with her joined hands and kneed him viciously in the place that hurt him most. She overbalanced and fell in a heap as Marinos doubled up, retching, and then the stone was wrenched aside with an axe and Alexei leapt in to pull Eleanor to her feet.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked harshly.

She held up her bound hands. ‘My wrists are sore—Look out!’ She dodged back as Marinos staggered up, knife upraised, but Alex caught his wrist in an iron grip, twisting until the knife fell, clattering to the floor.

‘Still fighting dirty, little brother?’ Alex said scornfully and threw a look at Eleanor over his shoulder. ‘Go outside to Theo.’

‘So the—hero was—afraid to come alone,’ gasped the other man.

Alex’s teeth glinted in a wolf-like smile. ‘The others will wait outside while you and I finish this in here.’

Marinos scrambled away, clutching himself. ‘Then it is you who fight dirty. I am in big pain.’

‘Are you expecting sympathy?’ Alex turned on Eleanor, his eyes imperious. ‘I told you to go. I need room.’

She eyed the axe. ‘Are you going to kill him?’

He shrugged and turned eyes like shards of black ice on Marinos. ‘You caused harm to my mother and my guest,’ he said in English for Eleanor’s benefit. ‘Did you really expect to leave my island unpunished?’

‘It was not my plan to hurt your mother.’ The man glared malevolently. ‘She was just best way to hurt
you.
’

‘You were right. But you also enraged my father.’ Marinos’ face paled even more at the mention of Milo Drakos as Alex thrust out the axe and prodded him against the rough stone of the wall with its handle. ‘My guest spoiled your plan,
ne
? So you hurt her. And now you pay.’

Marinos swallowed, eyes riveted on the axe blade.

Alex eyed him dispassionately. ‘You paid someone to kidnap my mother, dressed up in a mask to frighten Miss Markham and then tied her up and dragged her down here, even struck her. I salute you, Paul Marinos. If I had a laurel wreath, I would crown you.’

‘He wasn’t the one in the mask,’ Eleanor felt compelled to say. ‘He doesn’t do his own dirty work. He paid someone to frighten me.’

‘I know. Markos went crying to Theo to confess.’ Alex glared at Paul with utter contempt then turned on Eleanor. ‘Go outside. Now.’

She went, outside into the dark passageway. She held
up her hands to Theo, who was waiting there with Yannis. ‘
Parakalo, kyrie
Lazarides.’

He exclaimed in concern and took a knife to her bonds, then handed her the bracelet and gave instructions to the excited boy. ‘Yannis will take you to Sofia,
kyria.
’

Holding a large torch aloft, Yannis carefully guided a very tired Eleanor through the warren of passageways up to the hall, where Sofia was waiting anxiously. He gave a hurried explanation which brought loud exclamations of horror from his mother, but as she folded Eleanor in her arms Yannis raced away, eager to return to the excitement below.

Eleanor’s grasp of Greek was less than usual as she tried to assure Sofia there was nothing much wrong with her, a statement the woman dismissed with scorn. Sofia led her into the kitchen to apply a bag of ice to the bruised jaw, and smeared something soothing on the chafed wrists, all the time heaping dramatic curses on the criminal who had injured the
kyria
, and on Markos Kosta, who had helped him.