pagan lover

chapter ten

FROM high on the hillside came the tinkle of goat bells, then from lower down the hoarse bray of a donkey as it brought its rider up the cobblestoned path towards a steep flight of steps that had been painted white by the owners of the house to which they led. Tara, standing on the edge of a copse at the southern end of the garden, watched broodingly for her husband’s tall figure, as she had seen the ferry boat come in and knew he would be on it. There he was, a suitcase in his hand, coming along from the harbour towards the path which wound its way in a series of steep and sinuous bends off which were cut the paths to the various great mansions which were part of the attraction of the tiny island of Hydra.

Seeing her standing there, Leon lifted a hand; she waved in response, one part of her shrinking from what she knew she must expect, while, paradoxically, the other part actually hungered for the thrill of her husband’s demands. She wished she could understand herself, and her attitude towards the man who had her at his mercy. She told herself that she hated him; her one obsession was to get away from him … and yet..... He had hinted that she would miss his passionate lovemaking and she had since dwelt on those confident words, aware as she was of her husband’s fascination for her, the magnetism which drew her irresistibly, compelling her to obey his arrogant orders, to surrender to the mastery of his ardent demands. Was sex all she thought about? she had asked herself with contempt. Did the fire of his passion consume her totally, filling her heart and mind—and even her soul—to the exclusion of all else. What but disaster could be the outcome of this kind of imprisonment? She was an idealist who put loving and caring before all else... or she had done so until she met this Greek pagan who had set out to teach her about very different emotions.

‘How nice to have my wife waiting for me,’ he commented with mocking amusement as he came up to her at last. ‘Missed me, obviously.’

She glared at him, teeth gritting. Why did he have to rile her like this?

‘It was nothing more than sheer boredom that brought me out here,’ she snipped, turning abruptly away in the direction of the house.

He fell into step beside her and took her hand.

‘What have you been doing with yourself?’ he asked casually, ignoring her peevishly-spoken complaint.

‘Reading and sunbathing—then more reading and sunbathing,’ she answered sarcastically.

‘I had meals in between, and sometimes I was diverted by watching my jailers and wondering what they would do were I to make a run for it.’

‘They can run swifter than you,’ he said.

‘I don’t know.... I believe I’d give them a few breathless moments.’

‘And you, my child,’ he returned cheerfully, ‘will be having a few painful moments if you don’t change your mood. I’ve been expecting an eager welcome, but instead I’ve a little vixen awaiting me with snapping teeth.’

She fell silent, trying to divert her mind to more pleasant things—the Judas and arbutus trees gilded by sunshine, the oleanders by the fountain’s edge, the poinsettias and the lavender hedge, with butterflies gleaming iridescent as they hovered above the flowers, like humming-birds. The goatherd on the hillside, the duff paths down to the sleepy harbour where fishermen sat mending their nets or slapping octopus to a frothy lather on the stones. In the olive trees cicadas trilled, their music slightly distorted by the sough of the wind in the foliage. She wandered along at her husband’s side, glad that he was silent. She would hear his voice soon enough!

‘Come up and unpack for me,’ commanded Leon as soon as they entered the house. ‘You can tell me what you have really been doing.’

She obeyed, saying as they mounted the wide, balustraded staircase,