Pagan Lover by Anne Hampson Read Free Book Online Page A

for sure I could trust implicitly. None of them will ever say a word of what has happened on this trip. Dimitri’s the man who was driving the first taxi’
    ‘He is?’ Her mouth tightened and a sparkle came to her eyes. ‘If only we’d had some suspicion....’
    ‘How could you? You ordered cars for the wedding and they were provided. Why should you ever have suspected that one of them was driven by my servant?’
    She made no answer, and in any case Dimitri was there, pouring the wine, while Elias served smoked salmon as the first course. Dimitri spoke to
Leon in Greek;
Tara’s eyes glinted and she spoke on impulse.
    ‘I suppose,’ she said acidly, ‘you’re talking about the clever way you helped in my abduction!’
    The man turned, his dark eyes sliding from her white face to that of his employer.
    ‘I was merely carrying out the orders of my master,’ he said quietly, in that same excellent English he had used when driving the taxi.
    ‘It is all right, Dimitri—’
Leon waved him away with a swift flick of his hand. The man went out, following in the wake of Elias whose brown face had all the while been creased in a smile of amusement. Hateful bunch of Greeks! Scoundrels, all of them!
    ‘Don’t they care about the law?’ she flashed, glowering at the man opposite to her.
    ‘They obey orders.’ He spoke slowly, his black eyes never leaving her face. ‘As you will obey me when I order you not to speak like that again to any of my servants. For one thing, it’s undignified. I won’t allow my wife to lose her dignity with anyone else but me. Understand?’
    Fury burned colour into her cheeks.
    ‘You are the last person I’d lower my dignity for! One hand was resting on the snow-white tablecloth and before she could even guess at his intention he had rapped her sharply over the knuckles with the blade of his knife. It was no gentle tap and involuntarily she cried out, tears springing to her eyes, as much from the shock of the unexpected as from the pain inflicted.
    ‘Take heed from that,’ warned
Leon darkly. ‘Guard your tongue if you want to avoid punishment.’ He looked at her plate, then his eyes tame back to her face. ‘Dry your eyes, and then eat your salmon,’ he ordered curtly.
    She brought out a handkerchief—the dainty lacy thing which Sue had slipped into the cuff of her wedding-dress. She stared at it, scarcely able to believe what had happened to her since Sue had said, half in humour, half in gravity,
    ‘It’s not unusual for a bride to be so affected by emotion that a tear comes to her eye, so we shall take the precaution of providing you with this.’
    A terrible lump rose in
Tara’s throat as she put the handkerchief to her eyes, but instead of using it she wept uncontrollably into it.
    An exclamation of asperity came from the other side of the table.
    ‘What in the name of Hades is wrong with you now?’ he wanted to know. ‘Good God, girl, don’t you ever stop crying!’
    ‘I h-have—plenty—to—to cry—about,’ she sobbed, aware that the handkerchief was useless. Her serviette was on her knee and she took it up. But to her amazement
Leon was there, at her side, and he pulled her gently to her feet and in a moment her eyes had been dried with his handkerchief. Absurdly she found herself saying,
    ‘Th-thank y-you.’
    He tilted her chin, bent his dark head, and kissed her on the lips.
    ‘Sit down and compose yourself,’ he said gently.
    ‘Elias will be back in a few minutes.’
    Tara stared at him as he sat down, unable to determine whether his features really had lost most of their hardness or whether the mist in her eyes made it appear so. But certainly it had been a kindly, intention that had prompted him to come over and dry her eyes. What a contradictory character he had! Never in a thousand years would she have expected the gentleness she had just received at his hands.
    For a while she ate in silence, and then, looking up, she asked a trifle