Rachel Lindsay - The Taming of Laura Page 4

  It was a fulsome compliment which from any other man would have made Laura want to laugh, but it sprang so naturally from Andreas' lips that she was unutterably moved. "Don't talk about me like that," she said shakily. "I'm so ordinary."

  "So extraordinary," he remonstrated and putting his hands on her shoulders, lowered his face until their lips met.

  It was the first time he had kissed her and feeling the warmth of his mouth she twined her arms round his neck. The pressure of his lips increased, and with a gasp she drew back.

  He looked at her, Ms eyes narrowed. "My God, what have you done to me? I'm crazy about you. Darling, I——-"

  "Andreas, don't!" Quickly she turned. "I'd like to get my wrap and go. It's late and I'm on stand-by duty tomorrow."

  "Very well. I'll drive you home."

  "Please don't bother, I don't want to take you away from the party."

  Silently they walked through the crowd of guests to the hall. A dark-haired maid sped past and Andreas stopped her and spoke in Greek. She disappeared into the bedroom and came out with Laura's velvet stole.

  "It should be sable," he said as he placed it over her shoulders. "And one day I will give it to you."

  "Andreas!" They both turned as Mrs. Dimar came out of the drawing-room. "Lord Sefton is looking for you."

  "I'll come in a moment, Mama."

  "I want you to come at once." Mrs. Dimar lapsed into her native tongue and angrily he moved forward and answered her.

  Quietly Laura sped down the corridor, uncaring that she had not said goodbye to her hostess. She had to be alone, to think over this frightening, unwanted thing that had happened to her. She was in love with Andreas. In love willi a man who was as far out of her world as the moon.

  Travelling home, she remembered their first evening together when he had said how different she was from the Greek women he knew, and unbidden into her mind came a phrase he had used. "Men like docile wives and fiery mistresses." There was no doubt that, not being Greek, she would be unacceptable as a wife. Yet to be his mistress… She shuddered away from the thought. 'I'd rather stop seeing him altogether. In fact,' she clenched her hands as she made the decision, 'I will stop seeing him.'

  The following day Laura was on stand-by duty and spent the morning checking the stores and making sure everything was in order for their flight. At noon she went to the crew canteen for a cup of coffee and was delighted to find Joan Marshall there, the first stewardess with whom she had flown.

  "How are you settling down now, Miss Prentiss?" the older girl asked.

  "Very well but—I hate to confess it—I'm beginning to find it routine!"

  Joan Marshall laughed. "I knew you would. I didn't tell you because you wouldn't have believed me, but a year from now you'll find the job even more routine. Not that I'd want to change it for any other," she said hastily, "but it's human nature to become accustomed to everything, no matter how wonderful it is."

  Laura thought over the remark. "Do you think people become accustomed to having a lot of money—I mean an enormous amount?"

  "Why, that's the easiest thing in the world to get used to! It's———— " She broke off as a tall, middle-aged man entered the room and came over to them.

  It was Alec Jordan, senior Captain of Bantock Airlines, a man whom everyone considered a firm bachelor. Seeing his face grow tender as he said "Hello" to Joan Marshall, Laura knew he would soon be proving them all wrong. Feeling an intruder, she stood up and with a murmured excuse, left them.

  'If I had to fall in love,' Laura thought dismally, 'why couldn't it have been with someone like him, who could understand my way of life and share my interests?' Yet she and Andreas had many mutual interests; it was money that was forming an insurmountable barrier between them.

  She was so deep in thought she did not notice where she was going and walking out of the building in the direction of Passenger Reception, bumped into a man coming towards her.

  "Andreas! What are you doing here?"

  "I came to drive you back to town."

  "But I'm on stand-by duty."

  "You've finished now. I made enquiries. Come on, Laura, I want to talk to you."

  Seeing the look of obstinacy on his face, she knew it was useless to argue. "Very well. I'll just go and check out."

  Sitting close beside him as they drove back to London, Laura wished that this moment could go on for ever: with the road unwinding before them, other cars flashing by, yet they two completely alone together. She sighed and immediately he stretched out his hand and caught hers, gripping her fingers so tightly that the gold signet ring he wore dug into her skin.

  "Don't sigh like that, Laura. I love you so much and I want you to be happy all the time."

  She caught her breath. "Do you really love me?"

  "With all my heart. I have loved you for a long time, and last night when I kissed you… Heavens! I was mad not to have kissed you before, but I was so afraid of you."

  "Afraid of me?"

  "Of course. You're so far above me, Laura, I worship at your feet."

  "Andreas, don't be silly. You don't know what you're saying."

  "I do!" he said passionately. "And don't tell me not to be silly' I won't have you talking to me as if I were a child. I'm a man, Laura, and I want you as a man wants a woman."

  "Andreas———- " Laura clenched her hands, then went on quickly: "Andreas, I know what you're going to say and I can't — I can't! It goes against everything I believe."

  "You can't say that! You don't mean it. You've got to be my wife, Laura. I won't take no for an answer."

  "Your wife? Did you say your wife?"

  "What else? Why are you so surprised?" Abruptly he parked the car at the side of the road and sliding across the seat, pulled her round to face him. "Did you think I was going to ask you to be my mistress? Is that why you said no?" He saw the answer in her eyes and burst out laughing.

  It was so unexpected that Laura did not know what to do and as he continued to laugh, an unwilling smile curved the corners of her mouth.

  "I'm sorry, Andreas. I suppose you think I'm stupid…"

  "Not stupid, darling, but very unsure of yourself. How could you think I would want you for my mistress? You must be my wife. I want to show you off to all my friends. Of all the things I possess you will be the most beautiful."

  "Not a possession," she protested.

  "Yes, you are a possession—mine. Do you understand?"

  "But your mother—your family—what will they say? I'm not Greek and ————"

  "It does not matter what anyone says. I love you and you love me. You do love me, don't you? You haven't said so yet."

  "You know I do, Andreas. But are you sure you mean what you're saying? You've told me so many times that Greek families always make approved marriages."

  "My marriage to you will also be approved. My mother and sister like you, and as for Nikolaos—he is a connoisseur of beauty and the moment he sets eyes on you he will know why I am mad about you." Andreas caught her hand in his. "Nikolaos has just come back from America. On Sunday he is giving a birthday party for Melissa and I will take you."

  "I might not be here."

  "You must be. I'll speak to your Flight Officer myself."

  "Don't be silly." Swiftly she calculated the days. "Yes, I think I'll just make it. I leave for Athens tomorrow and I should be back on Friday."

  "Good. Then we'll keep our betrothal a secret until you have met my cousin. Once he has seen you and fallen under your spell I will tell him I have asked you to be my wife."

  Later that night as she lay in bed and listened to a distant plane droning overhead, Laura remembered with disquiet Andreas' reference to his cousin. "When he has fallen under your spell I will tell him I have asked you to be my wife."

  But what would happen if Nikolaos Dimar did not fall under her spell? If, like most of his compatriots, he believed that not only should money marry money but that Greek should only marry Greek?

&nb
sp; CHAPTER FOUR

  LAURA did not see Andreas until the night of Melissa's party, for she was on flight duty till Friday night and Andreas had to travel to the north of England to meet one of the Dimar Line ships which was arriving from Hamburg.

  On Saturday morning she drew recklessly on her savings and went in search of a suitable dress. The black one she had worn the previous week was the only cocktail dress she owned and she wanted something more colourful and romantic. In an exclusive mews shop in Knightsbridge she found what she was looking for: a cloud of sapphire organza, the bodice sparkling with emerald rhinestones and one glittering rhinestone strap across the shoulder.

  Deciding to be completely reckless, she had her hair styled at a Mayfair salon and was delighted with the way they did it. Bantock regulations insisted that hair be worn off the collar and rather than cut hers in a shorter style, Laura pinned it into a neat roll which she could comb out the moment she put on mufti. Now her hair had been sculptured into a classical Greek style— 'an appropriate name,' she had thought when the hairdresser had told her—and from a centre parting, soft waves fell to the curve of her cheekbones before being scooped into a bunch of curls on the nape of her neck. It was not a style she could easily manage herself but it would look beautiful tonight and that was all that mattered.

  When she opened the door of her flat to Andreas later that evening, the trouble she had taken over her appearance became worth while at the look of admiration on his face.

  "Beauty such as yours should be kept in purdah," he said as he took her in his arms. "Oh, Laura, these days apart have been like a lifetime."

  "To me too," she whispered and gave him her lips.

  They clung together passionately and Andreas was the first to draw back. "We must be going," he said huskily. "My mother and sister have already gone to my cousin's flat and I have said we will meet them there."

  Laura shivered and he looked at her anxiously. "What's the matter?"

  "I'm nervous."

  "Of what?"

  "Meeting your cousin."

  "You have no need to be afraid. I've told you Nikolaos will be charmed by you. In fact, I hope he will not be too charmed, for I am a very jealous lover."

  "What a beautiful word that is," she said softly. "Lover."

  "Don't tempt me," Andreas said jerkily and strode downstairs to the car.

  Driving through the dusk filled streets Laura could not rid herself of a vague presentiment of fear. In her imagination Nikolaos Dimar was a figure standing for wealth and power who would instinctively disapprove of her. But when they arrived at the Mayfair penthouse where he lived, she forgot everything in the beauty of her surroundings. Here was a display of wealth she had never dreamed of, each exquisite piece of furniture more befitting a museum than a home; every wall lined with priceless paintings.

  "Nikolaos keeps most of his Rembrandts here and a few Van Goghs."

  "A few Van Goghs!" she echoed, and had no time to say more as a maid showed her into a vast bedroom where mink and sable coats hung from rails.

  Dropping her wrap on a chair, Laura walked over to the mirror and smoothed her hair, turning swiftly as Melissa Dimar came in. The girl looked radiant in white satin, yet as she came closer Laura sensed that radiant was the wrong word, for it only applied to the dress and the magnificent necklace round her young throat. Melissa's eyes were sad; the same sadness Laura had noticed when they had first met.

  "I am so glad you have come to my party," the girl said eagerly. "We must find time to talk together."

  "You'll be too busy tonight," Laura smiled. "But if you'd like to come down to the airport one afternoon, I can show you round and talk to you then."

  "I would love that." Melissa fingered her necklace. "What do you think of my present? It is from my cousin."

  "It's beautiful."

  "Yes, isn't it? It's called a dog collar. Appropriate, don't you think?"

  Not certain what to say, Laura hesitated, and Melissa said in a tight voice: "A dog collar for a little girl who has to be led. For my next birthday I will be getting the lead and maybe the whip."

  "My dear…"

  The Greek girl shivered and walking to the mirror, began to comb her hair.

  "Here, let me do that," Laura said quickly. "You're spoiling it." With deft fingers she smoothed the dishevelled curls and then stepped back. "There, that's much better. Shall we go in?"

  Together they walked into a drawing-room that afforded them a panoramic view of London, and immediately Andreas came to their side. There were at least a hundred people present, and through wide-open french windows a marble terrace was crowded with couples strolling between swinging hammocks and tubs of hothouse flowers.

  Standing by a Bechstein in the far corner of the room, a dark, broad-shouldered man towered above everyone else. A heavy cast of feature gave him a brooding expression. As she was led across the room to meet him she saw he had the same raven black hair and dark eyes, although with Andreas they were gleaming and full of mischief, and in the older man they were hard and glittering. On the white shirt front a large ruby glowed with hidden fire, matching the ruby and gold ring on his little finger.

  "Nikolaos," Andreas' voice was full of pride, "I would like you to meet Laura Prentiss."

  Laura's fingers were taken in a firm grasp but he did not kiss her hand as she had noticed him doing to his other female guests.

  "Good evening, Miss Prentiss. I have heard about you." His voice was deep and more clipped than Andreas'. "You are an air hostess, are you not?"

  "Yes."

  "I am surprised you haven't seen Laura," Andreas said quickly. "You always fly Bantock, don't you, Nikolaos?"

  "For the past six months I've only flown to Greece via New York," his cousin replied and turned away as a group of people approached him.

  "Come on," Andreas whispered, "we've done our duty and now we can dance."

  Laura followed Andreas on to the terrace where a few couples were dancing to the strains of a coloured calypso orchestra. Although Nikolaos Dimar did not know of her engagement, he must surely be aware that his cousin was seeing a great deal of her, and she was illogically irritated that he had given no sign of it.

  'He's probably sizing me up before he delivers the body blow!' she thought and leaned her cheek against the smooth shaven one close to hers. No one was going to part her from Andreas. He was so tender and kind, so gay and full of life. Over his shoulder she caught a glimpse of her host. Not only was he the most handsome mar she had ever seen but there was an untouchable, aloof quality about him that was intriguing.. As he moved among his guests, laughing and talking, it seemed to her as though his thoughts were far away, longing for the moment when he would be alone and free to do as he liked.

  "Your cousin is a strange person," she murmured.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "He looks as if he's only here from a sense of duty. He doesn't seem to be enjoying the party, and after all, he's the one who's giving it!"

  "But he is only here from a sense of duty," Andreas laughed. "Nikolaos hates parties."

  "But he's famous for them!"

  "He has to be. It's part of his business. But he's really an outdoor type and is happiest aboard his yacht. Not many people realise it. You must be perceptive."

  "I wonder what he thinks about me?" she mused.

  "We will know soon enough."

  At that moment the music stopped and they returned to Mrs. Dimar and Melissa. There was a young man by the girl's side and as the music started again he stood up and without a word led her on to the floor. He had the same dark colouring as Melissa and Laura guessed him to be one of her countrymen. Surprisingly enough, there were only a few Greek people in the room, most of the guests being American or English.

  Slowly the evening wore on and it was nearly midnight when Laura left Andreas and went to the bedroom to collect her wrap. The door was closed and she opened it and stepped in, stopping abruptly as she saw the figure flung face downwards on
the bed. Recognising the white satin skirt she hurried over.

  "Melissa, what's the matter?'

  The girl looked up, her face puffy with tears. "Nothing," she said huskily. "I'll be all right in a minute."

  "But why are you crying? What's wrong?" Laura put her arm round the slim shoulders. "Is there anything I can do?"

  Melissa shook her head and sitting up, began to rearrange her hair with effective gestures. "Don't take any notice of me," she gulped.

  "But what's wrong? Can't I help?"

  "No one can help me." The girl choked back her tears. "No one at all."

  "Even if I can't help you in a positive way," Laura said gently, "maybe you'll find it a relief just to talk to someone."

  "That's an English proverb, is it not?" Melissa said. "A problem shared is a problem halved. Not that this problem can ever be halved." She sighed. "You see, I — I'm going to be married."

  Laura was startled. "To the young man with whom you were dancing?"

  "Yes."

  "Why should that make you miserable?"

  "Because I don't love him."

  "Then why marry him?"

  "I must. My cousin wishes it, and it is all arranged."

  "Your cousin? You mean Nikolaos is making you marry someone you don't love?"

  "He says it is a suitable match. Stephanos comes from a very respected family and he is of the right age and the right position." Melissa swallowed and forced back her tears. "But I don't love him! I don't love him!"

  Laura did not know what to say. From her many conversations with Andreas she knew that in Greece, families still arranged their marriages, but she had thought that the Dimars, spending so much of their time in England and America, would be more modern in their outlook. To realise that Nikolaos Dimar was insisting that his cousin marry a man she did not love simply because he came from a good family and had sufficient money — money that Melissa did not need anyway — was something Laura could not believe.

  "It's a very difficult position for you," she said cautiously. "But you're young, Melissa, and you and Stephanos must have many mutual interests. Love very often grows from liking and when you get to know him better maybe you'll—"