The Power of the Legendary Greek Read online

Page 8


  Isobel felt her colour rise. ‘Actually, he wasn’t kind at all at first. He was downright menacing when he thought I was one of the paparazzi, lying in wait for him on his beach. But once I put him right about that he’s been very—hospitable. But I can’t trespass on his hospitality any longer.’ She looked up in alarm as Eleni came rushing in, wailing and incoherent, and Alyssa jumped up, firing questions at the woman.

  ‘Grab your crutch, Isobel,’ she said tersely. ‘There’s a television in Luke’s study. Eleni saw an incident in Athens on the news.’

  They hurried across the marble hall into a room full of electronic equipment. Alyssa gently pushed Isobel into a comfortable chair and switched on Luke’s vast flat screen television.

  ‘I heard Luke’s name. Did Eleni say he was involved?’ Isobel demanded, breathless from the rush.

  ‘She wasn’t making much sense. We’ll find out more on here. Ah, here we go. Breaking news.’

  The television showed a scene of noisy chaos, with police holding back crowds in front of a church. A reporter at the scene was giving an excited running commentary as paramedics loaded a stretcher into an ambulance. Isobel grasped Alyssa’s hand urgently.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘Someone attacked Luke as he came out of church after the funeral of Melina Andreadis, his grandfather’s wife. You knew about that?’

  Isobel nodded impatiently. ‘Go on.’

  Alyssa listened again, then in rapid monotone translated the reporter’s account. ‘The grieving widower, accompanied by his dead wife’s sisters, watched in shock as Lukas Andreadis, successful entrepreneur, knocked the attacker to the ground even though wounded himself—’

  ‘Wounded?’ Isobel swallowed, but forced herself to keep quiet as Alyssa listened intently before translating.

  ‘Luke has been admitted to hospital for treatment. The body on the stretcher was the assailant. Luke obviously flattened him.’ Alyssa let out a deep breath, then turned to Eleni, who was weeping in Spiro’s arms, her eyes fixed in anguish on the screen. Alyssa patted her hand and soothed her with a flood of comfort in her own language, then took a phone from the pocket of her tangerine linen skirt.

  ‘I’ll get in touch with Dimitri at the hospital, or Alex if not. Don’t worry. I’ll soon find out about Luke.’ She frowned. ‘Are you all right, Isobel? You’re very pale.’

  ‘Startled, that’s all. Never mind me—make your calls.’

  Alyssa went off with her phone, giving succinct instructions which sent Eleni hurrying off to the kitchen while Spiro escorted Isobel back to the terrace.

  ‘Do not fear, Miss Isobel,’ said Spiro. ‘Lukas is very strong man.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Isobel took in a deep breath and smiled brightly. ‘I’m fine. You comfort poor Eleni. She’s terribly upset.’

  ‘She loves Lukas like a son,’ he said quietly. ‘I, also.’

  ‘I know that. So please don’t bother about me,’ said Isobel guiltily. ‘I shouldn’t be here, giving you extra work at a time like this.’

  ‘Kyrie Lukas told us to take care of you.’ Spiro patted her hand for the first time. ‘It is our pleasure, not work. Eleni is making tea for you.’

  The moment Spiro was out of sight Isobel knuckled tears away impatiently and fished in her bag for tissues. The knock on her head had obviously shaken something loose. She’d cried more since she came to Chyros than she had in years. But any news of Luke would be in Greek, which meant she was forced to wait in frustration until someone told her what was happening. Luke’s first meeting with his grandfather had certainly been dramatic.

  Isobel stared out at the garden, tense as a drawn bow as she waited for what seemed like years before Alyssa came rushing back to the terrace.

  ‘Sorry to take so long. It took a while to get through to either of them. Luke is fine!’ She seized Isobel’s hand in a grasp which made her wince. ‘Just a small cut and some grazes and a black eye, according to Dimitri, but it was a text, so I don’t have any details. Alex will ring later with more news.’ She bent to give Isobel a sudden hug. ‘There. Don’t cry. Or maybe you should. Do you good. Now I must tell Eleni and Spiro.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Isobel gruffly and blew her nose. ‘Lord knows why I’m crying.’

  ‘I can guess!’ Alyssa gave her a saucy, knowing grin and ran off down the hall to the kitchen.

  Isobel shivered suddenly. If the assailant had a knife, Luke had been very brave—or foolhardy—to attack him. She seized her crutch and made for the bathroom to wash her face, then joined Alyssa on the terrace, smiling ruefully. ‘I just wish I understood Greek. It’s nerve-racking being unable to understand what’s happening.’

  Alyssa eyed her challengingly, her big dark eyes sparkling. ‘You really like Luke, I think.’

  ‘I do now.’ Isobel made a face. ‘But I loathed him at first because he was so insulting. He took it for granted I was the kind of female who strands herself on his beach hoping for a fun time with him at the villa.’

  ‘Poor Luke,’ said Alyssa, laughing. ‘With his looks, women have swarmed around him all his life, and now he’s so successful it’s even worse. But he never brings anyone with him to the island, Isobel. This is his retreat, and the locals respect his privacy.’ She looked round with appreciation. ‘You like the house?’

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’ On impulse, Isobel reached out and touched the other girl’s hand. ‘I’m so glad you came today. It would have been hell with Eleni and Spiro too upset to speak English. If you feel like popping in at the cottage once I’m back there, please do.’

  Alyssa grinned mischievously. ‘I have instructions to “pop in” every day.’

  Isobel sat back, startled. ‘Who from?’

  ‘Luke, of course. I’m to report to him if you need anything. Luke and I are old friends. We were in school together when we were young.’

  Isobel eyed her narrowly. ‘Were you and Luke ever more than friends?’

  ‘No.’ Alyssa shook her head. ‘He was always too busy either studying or earning money any way he could to have time for girls at that stage. He looked me up in London when he was doing his MBA, but my boyfriend at the time took one look at my gorgeous old school pal and created hell. So Luke kept away.’

  ‘But you’re the type he goes for.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘He told me. Blondes leave him cold.’

  ‘Until he met you, obviously.’ Alyssa threw out a hand. ‘I think he must be pretty hot for you, Isobel. Otherwise, why would he order his team to take such care of you?’

  ‘Team?’

  ‘Team Lukas, which means Eleni, Spiro, Milos and me, not to mention Dr Riga. We all have our instructions to take care of you. Talking of which,’ said Alyssa, suddenly very serious, ‘would you like me to come back this evening in case there’s any news?’

  Isobel could have kissed her. ‘Oh, would you? Have dinner with me—but won’t you be missed at the taverna?’

  ‘Papa won’t mind in the circumstances. He’s very fond of Luke. And I won’t be seeing Dimitri until the weekend.’ Alyssa looked at her watch. ‘I’ll go back and talk to my parents, then give them a hand for a couple of hours and come back here about eight.’

  ‘Thanks a lot. I’ll tell Eleni.’

  ‘I’ll send her to you on my way out. And don’t worry. It would take a lot more than a few cuts and grazes to put Luke out of action!’

  Once her vivacious visitor had rushed away, Eleni hurried out to Isobel.

  ‘You all right?’ she said huskily.

  ‘I’m fine. How are you?’

  ‘Better now. Is good for you Alyssa comes back. I make nice dinner.’

  ‘All your dinners are nice—more than nice, they’re fabulous.’ Isobel reached out her hand and Eleni took it. ‘Don’t worry. Luke will be fine.’

  The woman nodded. ‘Spiro said. But I always worry.’ She smiled shyly. ‘Spiro and I never have children, but we helped kyria Olympia with her baby.’
/>   ‘So he’s like the son you never had,’ said Isobel softly.

  Eleni nodded and brushed a tear from her eye. ‘I go now and cook. If any news on TV Spiro will say.’

  The light had changed so much Isobel decided against any more work on the watercolour until next day. With an early start in the morning she could easily finish the painting before she left. She saw to her brushes, then sat staring out at the garden, deeply shaken by the thought that Luke could have been killed. Which was worrying. It would be madness to let her emotions get involved when she would never see him again once she left Chyros. But when her phone rang, relief flooded her in a joyous wave at the sound of Luke’s voice.

  ‘Isobel?’

  ‘Luke! Are you all right? I saw the news. How badly are you hurt? Are you still in the hospital—?’

  ‘Let me speak and I will tell you! Did Eleni tell you what happened?’

  ‘No, she was in such a state she couldn’t speak English. Spiro, too. But luckily Alyssa had come to see me, so the four of us watched the TV in your study, with Alyssa translating the newscast. Good God, Luke, you could have been killed!’

  ‘Would you have mourned for me, Isobel?’

  ‘Of course I would,’ she said crossly. ‘How long will you be in hospital?’

  ‘I am not in hospital. I left straight after treatment. The man did less damage than he intended. I was too quick for him,’ he added with arrogance, which made her smile.

  ‘Stitches?’

  ‘No, just dressings. And injections to counter possible infection from the blade.’

  ‘Do you know the man?’

  ‘No—’ He cursed under his breath. ‘Forgive me, Isobel, Andres wants me. I must go.’

  No longer tired, Isobel sat at the desk and, desperate for something other than Luke to occupy her mind, began writing postcards. Picturing the effect on Jo if she gave a truthful account of her adventures on Chyros, she wrote the expected things about the beautiful island and the wonderful weather, then exchanged pen for walking stick and went off to smarten herself up before the stunning Miss Nicolaides came back.

  Isobel heaved a sigh as she made for the bathroom. There was such an electric sparkle about Alyssa it was hard to believe that she and Luke had never been more than friends. Though Luke probably knew a lot of women like Alyssa—vivid, voluptuous Greek beauties far more to his taste than skinny blonde Brits. Isobel laughed at her reflection when she caught herself pouting. Just like Jo’s little sister Kitty when she couldn’t get her own way. She did her best with her face, pleased that a touch of foundation made the bruise barely noticeable, and her newly washed hair shone, with lighter streaks here and there from the hours she’d spent baking on Luke’s beach. Not too bad. How she’d envied Jo’s thick straight bob when they were teenagers. And Jo had laughed her to scorn, full of envy for her friend’s blonde curls. Barbie doll fixation, she’d teased, then dodged when ‘Barbie’ started throwing things. Ready at last in a raspberry-pink shift, Isobel went back to the terrace to help Eleni lay the table.

  The woman smiled in approval. ‘You look very pretty, Isobel!’

  ‘Why, thank you, Eleni. I heard from Luke,’ she added as she put out the silver, and the woman nodded happily.

  ‘He ring Spiro. Is bad he not stay long in hospital.’

  Isobel smiled. ‘He doesn’t like hospitals!’

  Eleni shot her a knowing look. ‘You like him, ne?’

  Isobel coloured slightly. ‘Of course. He’s been very kind to me.’

  ‘He likes you. He never bring woman here before.’

  ‘He didn’t bring me, Eleni. He was forced into helping me because I hurt myself.’

  ‘He likes you,’ the woman repeated firmly, then hurried away at the sound of a car.

  In white palazzo trousers and a sea-green silk shirt which displayed enviable honey-toned cleavage, Isobel’s visitor looked even more stunning than before.

  ‘You look a lot better—nice dress.’ Alyssa pulled up a chair. ‘Recovered from the shock, Isobel?’

  ‘More or less. Luke rang me. He left the hospital as soon as he’d been treated.’

  ‘So I heard.’

  Isobel shivered. ‘Any news about the man who did it?’

  Alyssa shook her head. ‘The police are questioning him.’

  ‘Will there be anything on the news right now?’

  ‘The main newscast is on later, after our meal. I’ll play interpreter much better once I’ve eaten.’ Alyssa cast an eye over Isobel. ‘Are you slim like that because you work at it?’

  ‘No. Metabolism.’

  ‘Lucky you. I have to watch my weight like a hawk.’

  ‘What for?’ Isobel eyed her blankly. ‘You’re gorgeous.’

  ‘Thank you, glykia mou! But to stay that way I do have to work at it.’

  ‘To please Dimitri?’

  Alyssa smiled like a cat with the cream. ‘No, he loves the curves. But I want to fit into my wedding dress. I brought a box of pastries with honey and nuts for dessert, by the way, but I’ll limit myself to one only.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful.’

  ‘I brought a bottle of wine, too—a gift from my father. He says a glass of wine is good medicine in times of stress.’ Alyssa put out a hand to touch Isobel’s. ‘Don’t worry. Luke is a supremely fit man. He’ll be fine.’

  Isobel flushed. ‘I’m concerned, Alyssa, that’s all. Luke came to my rescue and I’m grateful to him, and I hate to see him hurt. But there’s nothing going on between us. We’ve only just met.’

  ‘An hour—a minute—is all it takes to fall in love—or lust, Isobel. But I won’t tease any more. Here comes dinner.’

  Entertained by Alyssa’s account of her preparations for her wedding, Isobel ate well enough to satisfy Eleni when she came to clear away, but by then she could wait no longer. She looked at her guest in appeal. ‘Would you check the news for me now, please?’

  Alyssa promptly jumped up and handed Isobel her crutch to make for Luke’s study. She brought up the required television programme, then patted Isobel’s hand as a shot of Luke came on the screen.

  ‘He’s been discharged from hospital after treatment, and the assailant is in police custody,’ reported Alyssa.

  ‘That’s it?’ said Isobel, as a shot of schoolchildren filled the screen.

  Alyssa nodded and turned the set off. ‘If I hear anything more I’ll let you know tomorrow. When do you intend leaving the villa?’

  But Isobel had taken time to think this over. ‘Perhaps I’ll wait one more day after all. At the Kalypso I’ll be cut off from any news. At least here I’ve got Eleni and Spiro to keep me up to speed.’

  Alyssa nodded in warm approval as they returned to the terrace. ‘Very wise. You’d be a bit isolated up there. Take my advice, stay on here until you’re really mobile.’

  ‘Et tu, Brute?’ said Isobel wryly.

  ‘No use spouting Latin to me, kyria, I’m Greek! And,’ she added in sudden inspiration, ‘you’re a Brit so you’re bound to like tea. Shall I ask Eleni to make some for us? I’ll mention your change of plan.’

  Isobel laughed and threw up her hands. ‘All right, all right, I give in, KYRIA Nicolaides. I’ll stay on here for a day or two more.’

  ‘Be sure to tell Luke I was the one who persuaded you—he’ll owe me!’

  By Greek standards they’d eaten early. But, after Alyssa left to drive home with a message of thanks to her father for the wine, Isobel got ready for bed, suddenly exhausted. She settled herself against stacked pillows with a book, the usual tray of drinks left beside her by Eleni. But, instead of reading, she kept thinking of how near Luke had come to death that day, and frowned. Why did that matter so much? Just a short time ago she’d actively disliked him, but somewhere along the line her feelings towards him had undergone a sea change. Whatever the reason, Isobel gave a great sigh of relief when Luke rang.

  ‘Did I wake you, Isobel?’

  ‘No. How are you?’

  ‘In terrib
le pain,’ he said promptly. ‘I need a friend to comfort me.’

  ‘No, seriously—’

  ‘I am serious. Are you in bed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I need a picture of you as I lie in my own, so tell me what you sleep in.’

  She chuckled. ‘A knee-length blue T-shirt. I go for comfort, not glamour in bed.’

  ‘Glamour enough for me—’ He drew in a sharp breath.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded.

  ‘My various scrapes and scratches making themselves felt. Sleep well, Isobel.’

  She closed her phone slowly, then turned out the light and slid lower in the bed, yawning. For some reason, just hearing Luke’s voice had been enough to settle her down to sleep. Hoping it had worked the same way for him, she stretched luxuriously and turned her face into her pillows.

  Isobel continued work on her watercolour next day, interrupted at intervals by brief phone calls from Luke.

  ‘I am very glad you decided to remain at the villa. Wait there until I come back. Please, Isobel,’ he added, which was so obviously an afterthought she grinned.

  ‘I’ll see,’ was all she would promise, and said nothing about her intention to complete not only the watercolour of the pool before she left, but another of Luke’s beach to go with it. This was more difficult to accomplish when Eleni and Spiro learned what she had in mind, since it meant a lot of argument about working out of doors. But in the end Milos rigged up a canopy to shade Isobel from the sun as she worked at the cliff edge. The study of the pool was for Luke to remind him of her in future. The painting of the beach was for herself, who would need no reminders.

  Isobel received a flying visit from Alyssa before the evening rush at the taverna, and added her bit to the concerns voiced by Eleni and Spiro.

  ‘Are you sure you should be doing this? Though it’s very beautiful,’ said Alyssa, peering over her shoulder. ‘Is that for Luke, too?’

  ‘No. This one’s for me.’

  ‘How’s the ankle?’

  ‘Much better. I’m really speedy with my faithful crutch! It’s good exercise, getting in and out of the house for bathroom breaks. And, before you ask, I’m smothered in suncream and I’m drinking gallons of water and eating whatever Eleni puts in front of me. But thank you for coming, Alyssa.’