Wife For A Night Page 9

  His voice was so full of pain that Kate stared at him in bewilderment.

  'But you've done it,' she reminded him. 'You should be so proud of yourself, Philip. You did everything you promised yourself that you would do. In a couple of weeks the hotel will be opening and your dream will all be true.'

  Philip heaved a sigh and his grip tightened, crushing her fingers in his.

  'Yes, but perhaps dreams are only worth having if there is somebody to share them,' he said heavily. 'You know, Katarina, for a long time now I've been very pleased with myself. Each year my bank balance grew bigger, I owned more property, I worked longer and longer hours and I had the pick of the most desirable women in Europe. Of course, I promised myself that one fine day I would slow down, marry and enjoy what I had amassed. But I didn't realise how frantic and empty my life had become until an earthquake hit me.'

  'An earthquake?' faltered Kate.

  Philip's features creased into a tense smile.

  'Yes,' he said. 'Only a few days ago, and the aftershocks are still disturbing me. Oh, it wasn't the trembling of the ground that upset me. That was a very minor matter. It was the upheaval in my own heart when I met a certain wild-eyed, tear-stained Australian girl on a mountainside. A girl who seemed to turn all my previous ideas and my good opinion of myself upside-down.'

  'W-what do you mean?' whispered Kate.

  Philip's painful grip on her fingers slowly relaxed, and he reached up and tidied her straying auburn curls.

  'Simply that I've been dreaming about the wrong things,' he said softly. 'Oh, the Hotel Ariadne would be a fine dream if I had somebody to share it with.

  But not nearly such a fine dream as the two you showed me yesterday.'

  'I don't understand,' breathed Kate.

  Philip's lips twisted.

  'I'm talking about the photos you showed me,' he explained. 'The photos of those two old people who could face a hard road serenely just because they were together, and that young mother who knew that love was more important than money. I've been dreaming the wrong dreams for years now, Kate. No wonder you think that I'm selfish and arrogant.'

  'I don't!' protested Kate fervently.'Then what are your real feelings towards me?' demanded Philip.

  Kate swallowed painfully as a rush of emotion swept over her. She thought of Philip comforting her after the earthquake, his anguish when he thought she had been shot, the passionate fervour of his kisses, the heady excitement of being in his company. Then she did something which surprised them both. Catching his face in her hands, she drew his head down to hers and kissed him fiercely on the mouth.

  'I love you,' she said in a low, throbbing voice. 'But we both know it's hopeless!'

  Then she fled back to the car. But as she reached it, Philip came after her and caught her by the wrist. He was breathing heavily as if he had been running.

  'Nothing is hopeless!' he contradicted her fiercely. 'If you want it badly enough you can have anything in the world. Anything, Katarina!'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE next two weeks were a difficult time for Kate. As far as her work was concerned she had seldom been so contented in her life before. Philip had been delighted with the photos of the yacht, exclaiming that they were far too good for mere insurance records, and Kate was now happily engaged in working on the tourist brochures. Each day she went out at sunrise and spent hours fiddling with her tripod and filters and light meter to try and capture the unique beauty of Ayios Dimitrios. She had fallen in love with the place, and her photos reflected the fact. Print after print revealed the lyrical magic of its rose-tinted sunrises, the rugged grandeur of its steep blue hillsides, the tough, humorous vitality of its people. But, if Kate's work was giving her more satisfaction than ever before, her emotions were another matter entirely.

  After the trip to Thessalonfki she had made a determined resolution to stay away from Philip Andronikos. Yet she was miserably aware that a moth might just as well have made a resolution to stay away from a candle. She had already fluttered too close to that glowing flame and been painfully burnt. She knew she could not risk any further encounters. Consequently whenever Philip made his way up the pine-carpeted pathway to her villa she was always either 'just going out to take some photos' or 'too busy developing films to stop and chat'. But her pretence fooled neither of them.

  Whenever she found herself in a large group with Philip she could not prevent her gaze from straying longingly over his face, and once or twice she looked up to find his smouldering brown eyes trained thoughtfully on her. It was probably a goodthing that these chance meetings were rare.

  Philip was now so busy preparing for the hotel opening that he seldom surfaced except for snatched meals in the staff dining-room. And Kate herself was working nearly as hard. Keeping busy helped to still the intolerable ache that spread through her body whenever she realised that her time at Ayios Dimitrios would soon be over and she would have to leave.

  On the morning of the official opening Kate was woken by a timid knock at her bedroom door.

  'Yasu,' said a vaguely familiar voice.

  'Yasu,' she replied sleepily, sitting up and pushing her hair out of her eyes.

  'Oh, Anna, it's you! Whatever have you got there?'

  Anna set the laden tray down on Kate's bedside table and beamed.

  'Loukoumathes,' she said proudly. 'Not from chef either. Anna make them.'

  'Loukou... ?' queried Kate.

  'Loukoumathes,' repeated Anna slowly and carefully. 'You look.'

  Kate stared down at the tray. A thick white plate, which obviously had a much humbler origin than the kitchens of the Hotel Ariadne, was loaded with crispy golden dumplings soaked in honey.

  'You like?' asked Anna eagerly. 'I make for you because you save my brother.'

  'Oh, Anna, how kind!' exclaimed Kate. 'They look delicious!'

  Anna watched approvingly as Kate ate the plateful of dumplings and drank two cups of coffee. Then she produced a flat parcel wrapped in tissue paper.

  'This for you too,' she said, smiling.

  Kate unwrapped the parcel and gasped.

  'But Anna! These are handmade lace curtains. They must have taken you months and months of work!'

  Anna nodded proudly.

  'I make for my dowry,' she acknowledged. 'But now they are for you. For your dowry.'

  Kate was tempted to refuse, to say that she could not possibly accept such a beautiful and valuable gift. But then she realised what an insult that would be. It was precisely because they were so beautiful and valuable that Anna was offering them to her.

  'Thank you, Anna,' she said sincerely. 'They are wonderful. I will cherish them.'

  The two girls gazed at each other with respect, then Anna smiled.

  'I work now,' she said.

  Kate sat gazing at the curtains for a couple of minutes, then set them down thoughtfully on her pillow and climbed out of bed. She could hear Anna humming as she scrubbed out the bath. Thoughtfully she rummaged through her bag and then went through to the bathroom.

  'Anna,' she said hesitantly, 'I'd like to give you something too. Will you accept this tape?'

  Anna looked down delightedly at the cassette which Kate was holding out to her. It was a collection of Bruce Springsteen hits.

  'OK,' she agreed jauntily. 'Very nice.'

  She mimed putting on a Walkman and doing some energetic dancing and they both laughed. Anna gestured at the evening dress which was hanging up in the bathroom.

  'Oraia, ' she said admiringly. 'Very fine. You wear this with it tonight?'

  She picked up the expensive perfume atomiser which was part of the complimentary equipment of every suite at the Hotel Ariadne. Kate shook her head ruefully.

  'I can't,' she said. 'I'm allergic to it. Alleryika?'

  Anna nodded with sudden comprehension.

  'Ah,' she said.

  'Look,' said Kate, struck by a sudden thought. 'Why don't you take it, Anna?

  And the talcum powder too. I can'
t use it!'

  She bundled the toiletries up and thrust them into Anna's hands.

  'Endaxi?' she asked. 'OK?'

  Anna smiled like a conspirator.

  'Endaxi,' she agreed. 'I wear to party. Very big party at Ayios Dimitrios today. You go to the opening ball tonight, miss?'

  'I wouldn't miss it for the world!' said Kate.

  There was a very big party everywhere on the hotel estate that day. The village was celebrating in its own style with spit-roasted lamb, loud bouzouki music and traditional dancing, while the hotel itself was bursting with activity. Special charter flights had flown into Thessalonfki in the morning, and coach-loads of guests kept arriving all day. For the first time the restaurants and lobbies and swimming-pools were thronged with people, laughing and enjoying themselves. A Greek band played on the terrace by the waterfront, and a mini- regatta was going on in the bay with the

  Eleftheria acting as flagship. But the real highlight was to be the official opening dinner and ball in the main reception centre.

  As she slipped into her gold evening dress shortly after seven o'clock Kate found that her hands were shaking slightly with nerves. For the first time she wondered anxiously just what part she was to play in the festivities.

  Philip had made some joking remark about not wanting his official photographer dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but he had never told her what photographs he wanted her to take. What was even worse, she had no idea of whether she was supposed to be taking part in the official dinner for invited dignitaries or whether she would be part of the celebration in the staff dining- room instead. She could not help remembering the unpleasant scene on the yacht when Irene had ordered her to go back with the crew where she belonged. If only she knew where she did belong! One thing was

  certain at any rate: it would be Irene Marmara who stood smiling radiantly at Philip's side all evening and not Kate Walsh.

  As Kate made her way down the winding path to the reception centre she heard the muted hum of a large party gradually warming up. A sudden thump followed by a whizzing shriek made her jump back in alarm, until she realised that it was only the start of the fireworks display. A rocket exploded overhead in a shower of pink and green sparks, lighting up the dark blue sea and sending magical flickers of colour over the white buildings ahead. Somewhere in front of her she could hear the wild rhythmic clapping that generally accompanied a Greek dancing display, and for no accountable reason her spirits suddenly lifted. Never mind about Irene or Philip. The smartest thing she could do tonight was simply to relax and enjoy herself. Hitching her camera strap more firmly on to her shoulder, she marched boldly forward to the side-door of the reception centre.

  'Yasu, Kate.'

  'Ya,' said Kate, grateful to see a familiar face.

  It was Dorothea Zografou, the deputy manager of the hotel, dressed in a long, shimmering pink gown with a spray of orchids on her left shoulder and her greying brown hair swept into a smart chignon. However, Kate noticed that Dorothea still wore her small hotel identity- badge, clipped to her right shoulder.

  'Dorothea,' she entreated, 'can you tell me where I should be? Philip did say something about my being an official photographer tonight, but he hasn't told me what photos to take or where to go. I don't even know if I'm meant to be attending the guests' dinner or not.'

  Dorothea frowned thoughtfully.

  'You were certainly on the guest list,' she said, 'although not at the official table, of course. Just a moment, Kate.'She moved across to a side-table laden with flowers and picked up a seating plan.

  'You're at the Press table,' she said, 'with the rest of the journalists and photographers. Philip already has two photographers hired to do publicity photos, so I think it's up to you what shots you take. But just one word of warning, Kate: if any of the journalists try to pump you for copy about his private life, don't say a word. Nothing infuriates him worse than having his personal life splashed all over the tabloids.'

  'Thanks, Dorothea,' agreed Kate. 'I'll remember.'

  Dorothea smiled. 'Well, I'd better go and take my place in the reception line,'

  she said hastily. 'I think the mayor of Sarti is just arriving. Have a good time, Kate.'

  Kate watched the older woman thread her way through the milling crowds in the main lobby, and suddenly her heart leapt. Philip was standing in the midst of a throng of men in evening suits and women dressed in glittering finery. Kate recognised a star from a major US television series, a Greek politician who had been at the heart of a bribery scandal and a well-known shipping magnate. Then suddenly all the other faces slipped out of focus, for Philip's eyes met hers. It was as if they were alone in the room or alone on a wild mountainside. Her gaze locked with his and she felt a powerful current of feeling surge between them. I love you, Philip, she thought urgently and knew that he had heard that silent cry. Then casually, almost contemptuously, he looked away from her, only to smile down enchantingly at Irene, who was clinging to his arm. Kate felt so wounded that she could scarcely breathe as flashbulbs lit up all around, capturing the happy couple on film. Was this how Philip wanted her to spend the rest of her life? she wondered indignantly. As the silent, watchful mistress, pushed into the wings while the true wife basked in the limelight? Well, damn him!

  As the evening wore on Kate's uneasiness increased. The chefs at the Hotel Ariadne were determined to display their prowess, and course after course of delicious food was whisked in from the kitchens. Charcoal- grilled pitta bread accompanied dips of shrimp, smoked cod's roe, chick-peas and creamed aubergines. There were entrees of grilled octopus and calamari garnished with lettuce and quartered tomatoes, Cretan sausages, little triangles of pastry filled with cheese or spinach, and vast silver chafing dishes containing a dazzling array of main courses—spit-roasted lamb,

  aromatic beef stew in a tomato base, charcoal-grilled chicken and seafood platters. And these were followed by elaborate desserts of honey-soaked pastry crammed with nuts, ices made from mouthwatering fruits and intricately decorated cakes. But Kate scarcely noticed the food. She was too busy watching Philip and Irene.

  To her disquiet, they seemed to be on the best of terms. Whenever a camera flashed Philip seemed to be laying a hand caressingly on Irene's arm or bending his head attentively to listen to her chatter. And, when the official opening finally took place and a crowd of well- wishers surged forward at the end of the dinner, Philip put his arm around Irene's shoulders and led her into the centre of the dance-floor. Then he motioned to a waiter with a tray and champagne to join them.

  'Ladies and gentlemen,' he said in his deep, resonant voice, 'you all know that the opening of the Hotel Ariadne at Ayios Dimitrios represents a dream come true to me. I don't want to slow up the party, but before we get back to enjoying ourselves I would like to take a moment to remember two fine men from this village who made the fulfilment of this dream a possibility. Sadly, Con Marmara and Aristo Andronikos are no longer with us in the flesh, but I am sure they are here tonight in spirit. Ladies and gentlemen, will you drink a toast with me? To Con and Aristo!'

  'To Con and Aristo!' murmured everybody obediently, lifting their glasses.

  But that wasn't the end of it. For Philip beckoned another waiter who was hovering in the background.

  'And, since Con is not able to be here himself, I would like to present his daughter Irene with a small gift in recognition of all that I owe to the Marmara family.'

  The waiter came forward with a red velvet jewellery box, which he opened to display a shimmering diamond necklace. There was a concerted gasp of admiration as Philip drew the gleaming cascade of gems from their resting place and fastened them around Irene's throat. Then he kissed her softly on the cheek.

  'Meya!' he said. 'Wear it in good health!'

  Kate felt as if she had been pushed off a cliff as the crowd of journalists at her table surged forward to snap photos of the big event. No doubt Philip was only right to honour Con Marmara, but he could hardly have made a more pu
blic show of his commitment to Irene if he had married her tonight.

  Kate recalled Stavros's warnings about Philip's character, and a wave of bitterness flooded through her. You fool! she thought. You really believed he loved you, didn't you?

  'Hey, are you all right?' asked a voice behind her. 'You look kinda pale.'

  'Oh, Stavros. No, I'm fine,' lied Kate desperately. 'I just have a slight headache. I think I'll go back to my villa now.'

  Stavros's hand closed warningly on her arm.

  'Don't do that,' he urged in a low voice. 'You'll attract too much attention.

  Hold your head up and stick it out.'

  Somehow, although her heart felt ready to burst, Kate found herself led out on to the dance-floor and whirled professionally around in Stavros's practised embrace. She saw Irene and Philip spin past them, and Philip's gaze met hers with a flare of jealousy that turned to smiling blandness as Irene looked up at him and made some remark. As the music came to an end Stavros led her off the floor and excused himself for a moment. Kate threaded her way through a jungle-like arrangement of potted palms towards her seat, and found herself face to face with Philip.

  'I thought I told you to stay away from Stavros!' he hissed with a swift glance at the Press table a few yards away.

  'What's it to do with you?' she retorted under her breath.

  One of the photographers at the table gave them an interested glance and rose to his feet.

  'Pardon me,' he said with the air of a bloodhound sniffing a trail, 'but didn't I see you two lunching together in Platia Aristotelous two weeks ago?'

  Kate said nothing but cast Philip a challenging look. His rage melted instantly away, to be replaced by a smiling indifference.

  'You may well have done,' he agreed in a bored voice. 'I frequently lunch with my employees when I want to discuss business. Miss Walsh has been doing some publicity photos for the Hotel Ariadne for me, but, of course, she'll be leaving any day now. Oh, do excuse me, won't you? I see Irene is looking rather lost without me.'