The Power of the Legendary Greek - By Catherine George Page 0,18

to reassure Milos she was unhurt. Her face flamed as Luke strode out of the house, holding out imperious arms, and Milos hastily surrendered Isobel to his employer and picked up the crutch. He confirmed there was no damage to it and, with a brief word of thanks to Milos, Luke carried Isobel along the terrace and out of the sun.

She eyed his stern face warily. ‘Sorry for the disturbance,’ she said at last.

‘Tell me the truth. Are you really unhurt?’ he demanded.

‘Yes. I fell on the grass—soft landing this time.’ Her smile met with a stony look.

‘And yet you are determined to go back to the Kalypso to manage alone!’

‘But when I’m there I’ll stay in the house,’ she protested, and sighed. ‘I just wanted to look at your beautiful garden.’

‘You could have fallen in the pool!’

She shrugged. ‘No problem. I’m a strong swimmer.’

‘Excellent,’ he said grimly. ‘At least I shall not worry that you drown while I am away.’ He turned away to the table to pour a glass of fruit juice for her, then perched on the edge of the table, scowling down at her while she drank it.

‘Please apologise to Milos for me,’ said Isobel.

Luke’s mouth curved in a sardonic smile. ‘No apology is necessary. Milos was no doubt grateful for the chance to hold you in his arms.’

Isobel eyed him incredulously. ‘You think I fell on purpose?’

He gave a cynical shrug. ‘Did you?’

She drank the rest of her ice-cold juice to calm down. ‘No,’ she said when she could trust her voice. ‘I did not. Thank you for the drink. Now, if you’ll excuse me?’ She stood up and limped off to her new room, filled with a burning desire to assault Luke Andreadis with her crutch as he kept pace with her. She gave him a cold little smile as he opened the door for her. ‘Thank you. Would you be kind enough to ask Eleni to see me when she has a moment?’

‘Of course. Unless there is something I can do for you instead?’ Luke eyed her challengingly when she shook her head. ‘You are angry?’

‘Not in the least,’ she lied.

‘No?’ He arched a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘I will fetch Eleni.’

‘Thank you so much.’

Isobel stared out into the garden, fuming. Did Luke really imagine she’d fallen over just so that brawny Milos could pick her up? Or, even worse, so that the lord and master himself could come to her rescue again. She ground her teeth impotently. Luke had grabbed her away from Milos as though she were a parcel. Or baggage, from his point of view. She smiled reluctantly, her sense of humour reasserting itself as Eleni came rushing in.

‘Isobel? You ill?’

‘No, no, nothing like that. I feel fine.’

‘Milos said you fell.’

‘My crutch stuck in a crack and tripped me up.’

Eleni tutted disapprovingly. ‘So what you need?’

‘I hate to make extra work for you, but could I possibly have my supper in here on my own tonight?’

The woman looked anxious. ‘You did hurt!’

‘No, no. I’d just rather eat alone. Please?’

Eleni plumped up the pillows on the bed, eyeing her narrowly. ‘You rest. Not time to eat yet.’

‘Efcharisto, Eleni.’

Although she’d opted out of dining with the lord and master of Villa Medusa, an encounter with him later was no doubt inevitable. To armour herself for it, Isobel washed carefully in the bathroom and zipped herself into a cool cotton shift in her favourite cornflower-blue. With even more care, she combed out her hair, then subsided gratefully against the pillows on the bed. The crutch was a huge help, but getting around with it was tiring just the same. She longed to ring Joanna, but if she did Jo would immediately sense something wrong and keep nagging until Isobel confessed. Time enough for that when she went home. She closed her eyes against a sudden wave of homesickness. When she opened them again she saw Luke on the terrace, watching her through the open doors.

‘May I come in?’ he asked.

‘It’s your house.’

‘But this is your room.’

She shrugged indifferently. ‘Come in, if you want.’ A pity to waste the primping.

Luke came to stand by the bed, looking down at her. ‘Eleni says you refuse to join me for dinner.’

‘Yes. I’d rather eat alone in here.’

‘Why?’

She raised a disdainful eyebrow. ‘You were insulting, Mr Andreadis.’

‘It was a shock to see Milo holding you in his arms,’ he said harshly. ‘I thought you were hurt.’

‘No,’ she corrected. ‘You thought I’d engineered a fall just so he’d pick me