pagan lover

chapter four

TARA looked at herself in the mirror, wanted to burst into tears again but managed to control the impulse. She and David would have been dining together, and after that....

It was a deep sigh rather than a sob that broke from her lips; she thought about her captor, and about her statement that she would like to see him dead. Would it be possible to maim him? she wondered, amazed at the cold and practical way she was considering this, if he could be put out of action then surely she would be able to escape.

A knock on the cabin door was followed by the sound of a key being turned. A stocky, swarthy-skinned Greek stood by in the opening, a grin on his face that Tara would dearly have loved to wipe off. She noticed a gold filling ludicrously occupying a gap between two heavily-discoloured teeth. She shuddered, but went forward when he said,

‘Mr Leon says that I haf to show you the dining saloon.’

She realised she was hungry, and realised too that she would gain nothing by staying that way—if she was allowed to.

The saloon was the last word in luxury, its walls of pine highly polished, and built-in furniture with, in one corner, a cocktail cabinet. The table was laid with gleaming silver and glass, and there was an appetising odour coming from the dishes standing on the sideboard. Leon, looking even more distinguished than before in navy blue slacks and a white linen jacket, was standing by the cocktail cabinet, apparently absorbed in the perusal of a label on the bottle he held in his hand. He turned, flicking a hand in dismissal to his servant.

‘Sit down,’ he invited her. ‘The meal’s ready, but perhaps you would like a drink first?’

She shook her head.

‘I don’t want anything thank you.’

‘There’s wine with the meal. You can have some of that.’

She opened her mouth to refuse, then closed it again as she saw his expression. His mouth was tight, his eyes faintly narrowed; she had seen that expression before.

He drew out a chair and she sat down, taking in the candles in their silver holders, the flowers expertly arranged.

‘You had everything prepared,’ she could not resist saying, acid in her tone.

‘For a romantic dinner at sea?’ His eyes held a vague hint of humour. ‘Yes, I did have it all prepared. Elias— you’ve not met him yet, but you will in a moment— bought the flowers ready arranged, and the candles we already had—’

‘In stock—for, an occasion such as this. I suppose you’ve had dozens of loose women on board this boat.’

‘I’d prefer you not to refer to them as loose,’ he returned darkly. ‘Yes, I have had intimate dinners aboard with my women friends.’ He took possession of the chair opposite to her and stretched his long legs under the table. He clapped his hands and a man appeared instantly.

‘We’ll have the first course now, Elias. And tell Dimitri to pour the wine.’

‘How many men are on board this boat?’ enquired Tara, amazed that she was so calmly accepting the situation in which she found herself. She was hungry, and actually looking forward to eating a meal—though, not in this man’s hateful company, of course.

‘Three. It’s not the usual number for the crew of a vessel of this size, but I needed to limit the men to those I knew 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?’