All That Glitters Page 18

  Without making a big production out of it, she pretended that she was not recovering as rapidly as she really was, using her physical condition as a weapon against Nikolas. She rested frequently and would sometimes slip away without comment to lie down with a cold, damp cloth over her eyes and forehead. Someone would usually check on her before too long, and in that manner she made certain the entire household was aware of her delicacy. She hated to trick them like that, but she had to protect herself, and she was aware that she would have to take whatever chance presented itself if she was to escape from the island. If everyone thought her weaker than she actually was, she had a better chance of succeeding.

  The opportunity presented itself the next week when Nikolas informed them at the dinner table that he and Andros were flying to Athens the following morning; they would spend the night and return to the island the next day. Jessica was careful not to look up, certain that her expression would give her away. This was it! All she had to do was to hide on board the helicopter, and once they had landed in Athens and Nikolas and Andros had left to attend their meeting, she could slip out of the craft, walk into the terminal building, and purchase a ticket for a flight out of Athens.

  She spent the evening making her plans; she retired early and packed the essentials she would take with her in the smallest suitcase she had, then replaced the case in the closet. She checked her purse to make certain that the money she had brought was still in her wallet; it was, as Nikolas no doubt felt certain that no one on the island was susceptible to a bribe, and in that he was probably correct. But she hadn't even thought of that, and now she was glad that she hadn't, as he would probably have taken the money away from her if she had tried something like that.

  She counted the money carefully; when she had left England to travel to Paris with Nikolas, she had provided herself with enough cash to buy anything she might want, or to cover any emergency she was likely to encounter. Every penny was still there. She wasn't certain that it was enough to purchase a ticket to London, but she could certainly get out of Greece. Even if she could only get as far as Paris, she could telephone Charles and have him wire extra funds to her. Nikolas had control of her business concerns, but she hadn't emptied her bank account, and those funds were still available to her.

  Later, when everyone had retired, she would take the suitcase and hide it in the helicopter. From her previous trips in it, she knew that there was a small space behind the rear seats, and she thought that there was enough room for both herself and the suitcase. To be certain, she would take a dark blanket and huddle under it on the floor if she couldn't get behind the seats. Remembering the construction of the helicopter, she thought it would be possible for someone to hide in that manner. The helicopter was built to carry six passengers, and the seats were broad and comfortable. Nikolas would pilot the craft himself, and Andros would be in the seat next to him; there would be no reason for them to look behind the rear seats.

  As a plan, it had a lot of drawbacks, relying too heavily on chance and happenstance, but it was the only plan she had and probably the only chance she would have, as well, so she had to take the risk. It wasn't in her mind to disappear forever, but only until she'd had the chance to become certain within herself how she felt about Nikolas, and whether or not she wanted to continue with their marriage. All she asked was a little time and a little distance, but Nikolas wouldn't willingly give her what she needed. Jessica felt that she had been pushed and pulled more than she could stand. From the moment she had met Nikolas, he had maneuvered and manipulated her until she felt more like a doll than a woman, and it had become essential to her that she regain control of her own life.

  Once, naively, she had thought that love could solve any problem, but that was another dream that had been shattered. Love didn't solve anything; it merely complicated matters. Loving Nikolas had brought her a great deal of pain and very little in the way of happiness. Some women could have been content with the physical gratification that he offered and accepted that he didn't love them in return, but Jessica wasn't certain that she possessed the sort of strength that required. That was what she had to discover about herself: whether she loved Nikolas enough to live with him regardless of the circumstances, whether she could make herself accept the fact that she had his desire but not his love. A lot of marriages were based on less than love, but she had to be certain before she let herself be maneuvered once again into a corner with nowhere to turn.

  She knew her husband; his plan was to get her pregnant, thereby tying her irrevocably to the island and to him. She also knew that she had very little time left before he began putting his plan into action. He'd left her alone thus far, but she was nearly fully recovered now, and she sensed with sharpened instincts that he was now entirely unconvinced by her charade and would come to her bed at any time. She knew that she had to escape now if she was to have that time by herself to decide on a calm, reasonable level whether she could continue living with him.

  After putting her purse away, she prepared for bed and turned out the lights, not wanting to do anything suspicious. She lay quietly in bed, her body relaxed but her mind alert to every sound in the villa.

  The bedroom door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered form threw a long shadow over her. "Are you awake?" Nikolas asked quietly.

  For answer, Jessica reached out and switched on the lamp. "Is something wrong?" She struggled up to prop herself on her elbow, her eyes wide and wary as she watched him enter the room and close the door behind him.

  "I need a few things from the closet," he informed her, and her heart stopped as she watched, paralyzed, while he crossed to the closet and slid the doors open. What if he should take the suitcase that contained the clothing she had packed? Why hadn't she insisted that he take his things out of the closet? But that would have looked odd to his mother, and in all honesty he hadn't taken advantage of the situation. What clothing he needed, he took from the closet sometime during the day, and never at times when he might find her undressed.

  He took down one of his own suitcases made of dark brown leather, and she drew a shuddering breath of relief. He looked at her sharply. ' 'Are you feeling all right? You look ilk"

  "Just the usual headache." She forced herself to answer calmly, and before she could stop herself she blurted out, "Do you want me to pack for you?"

  A grin slashed the darkness of his face. "Do you think I'll make an unholy mess of folding my shirts? I manage well enough, but thank you for the offer. When I return," he added thoughtfully, "I think I'll take you back to Dr. Theotokas for another examination."

  She didn't want that, but as she planned to be gone before then she made no protest. "Because of the head-aches? Didn't he say that it would take time for them to go away?"

  He took a shirt from the clothes hanger and folded the garment neatly before placing it in the opened suitcase. "Yes, but I think you should be making a better recovery than you are. I want to make certain there aren't any other complications."

  Like a pregnancy? The thought sprang without warning into her mind, and she began to tremble. It was possible, of course, but surely too early to tell. She didn't have any idea herself as yet. But wouldn't it be ironic if she managed to escape Nikolas's clutches and found that she was already pregnant? She wasn't certain what she would do if those circumstances arose, so she pushed the thought from her mind.

  Conversation lapsed, and she propped herself higher on the pillow and watched as he completed his packing. When he closed the case and set it aside, he came to sit beside her on the bed. Uneasy at his nearness, she didn't say anything, her eyes unwavering as she watched him. A crooked little smile twitched at his lips. "I'll be leaving at dawn," he murmured, "so I won't wake you up. Will you give me a good-bye kiss tonight?"

  She wanted to refuse, yet part of her yielded, held her motionless as he bent down and lightly pressed his mouth to hers. It wasn't a demanding kiss, and he straightened away from her almost immediately. "Good night, darling," he sai
d softly, and putting his hands on her ribcage he eased her down beneath the light covers and began to tuck them in around her. She raised her eyes to meet his and gave him a small, timid smile, but it was enough to still his hands in their occupation.

  He caught his breath, and his dark eyes began to gleam as the muted glow of the lamp caught their expression. "Good night," he said again, and leaned over her.

  This time his mouth lingered, moving over her lips and molding them to meet the pressure of his. The pressure wasn't intense, but still the contact remained, warm and enticing, his breath sweet and heady with the wine they had had with dinner. Unconsciously she put her hand on his arm and stroked her fingers upward to clasp his shoulder, then on to curve about his neck. He deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting hers and exploring, making exciting forays against the sensitive places he found, and Jessica felt herself drifting into the red haze of sensual pleasure, not yet alarmed by his touch.

  With a slow movement he folded the covers down far enough to let the soft curves of her breasts become visible to his avid gaze. He lifted his head from hers and watched as his long fingers slid beneath the thin silk of her nightgown and curved over the rich flesh, then moved up again to catch the strap and draw it down her arm. Jessica made a small gesture of fear, but he was being so slow and gentle that she didn't struggle; instead her lips sought his flesh eagerly, tasting the slightly salty taste of the skin-along his cheekbone, the curve of his jaw. He turned his head and their mouths met again, and her eyelashes fluttered closed. The leisurely movement of his hand urged the pink silk slowly lower, baring the upper curve of one breast. Then the delicate rosy nipple was free and his hand left the strap to capture her exposed beauty.

  "Now I'll kiss you good night," he whispered and he shifted so that his mouth slid down the arched curve of her throat. He paused, and his tongue explored the sensitive hollow between her neck and shoulder blade, making her shiver with a delight which was rapidly growing beyond her control. She didn't care. If he had only been this slow and tender on their wedding night, perhaps none of their problems would still exist. She lay quietly under his wandering touch, enjoying the delicate sensations and the spreading heat in her body.

  Then his lips continued their journey and moved down the satin slope to close hotly over the throbbing bud. She moaned aloud and arched her back, her hand clenched in the rich thickness of his hair as she held his head to her. The gently pulling motions of his mouth set sharp twinges of pure physical desire shooting along her nerve endings. Her trembling intensified, and she started to reach for him; then he released her flesh and lifted his head, drawing back from her.

  He was smiling, but the smile was sharp with triumph. "Good night, darling," he murmured, drawing the strap onto her shoulder again. "I'll see you in two days." Then he was gone, taking the suitcase and closing the door silently behind him, and Jessica lay on the bed, biting her lips to keep from screaming in both fury and frustration. He'd done that deliberately, seducing her with his gentleness until she forgot her fear, then not taking her to fulfillment. Were his actions motivated by revenge for the way she'd refused his advances before, or was it all a calculated maneuver to bring her to heel? She rather thought it was the latter, but she was more determined than ever not to give in to him. She would not be his sexual slave!

  The thought of her escape gave her grim pleasure. He was so certain of his victory; let him wonder what had gone wrong when he found that his wife had fled rather than sleep with him. Nikolas was far too selfish and self-confident; it would do him a world of good to have someone stand up to him every so often.

  She set the alarm on the clock for 2:00 a.m., then settled down in the bed, hoping she could sleep. She did, eventually, but had had only a few hours of rest when the alarm went off. She silenced it quickly and got out of bed, then used the flashlight that was always in the drawer of the table by the bed to find her jeans, shirt, and a pair of crepe-soled shoes. She inched the closet door open and removed the small suitcase, then went over to the sliding glass doors that led to the terrace. She released the lock with only a faint click, her hands steady as she slid the door open just enough to allow her to slip through the opening. Hastily she switched off the flashlight, hoping no one was up at this hour to see the betraying light.

  There was no moon, but the faint starlight was enough to guide her as she avoided the furniture set about the terrace and made her way silently around to the front of the house. She left the terrace and followed the flagstone path which led up the hill to the helicopter pad. She had gone only a short distance when her legs began to ache and tremble with fatigue, an unwelcome reminder that she truly wasn't completely recovered. Her heart was hammering in her chest when she finally reached the helicopter, and she paused for a moment, breathing rapidly.

  The door of the aircraft opened easily, and she crawled inside, banging her hip painfully with the suitcase and muttering an imprecation at the unwieldy luggage. She switched the flashlight on again to pick her way between the seats to the rear. The space behind the rear seats was a mere two feet deep, and she found immediately, by trying to curl up inside it, that it could not accommodate both herself and the suitcase. She placed the suitcase on the floor between the last two sets of seats, but decided that it could be seen too easily in that location.

  She studied the interior of the helicopter for a minute, then folded herself once again into the hiding place and stood the suitcase between herself and the back of the seat; the seat was tilted forward a little, but not enough to be noticeable, she hoped. The position was cramped, and she wouldn't be able to move at all until they had landed in Athens and Nikolas and Andros had left, but it was the best she could manage. She left the suitcase in position and crawled out, her legs and arms already stiff from the short time she had been crouching there. She had intended to bring a blanket but had forgotten it, and now she promised herself that when she hid herself prior to takeoff she would have a blanket to cushion the hardness of the cold metal.

  Elated, she carefully crept down the hill and into her bedroom and closed the sliding door behind her. She could have waited in the helicopter, but she had a cautious hunch that Nikolas might look in on her before he left, and she intended to be snug in her bed; underneath the nightgown, though, she would still have on her clothes.

  Then she saw that she would have to remove her shirt if she didn't want it to be visible above the nightgown, and she wouldn't have a chance to put it on again. She would have very little time in which to reach the helicopter ahead of the two men, and she didn't want to waste any of it in dressing. She would keep the shirt on, and pull the covers up under her chin.

  She kicked her shoes off and stood them beside the bed on the side away from the door, then lay down to rest. She wasn't even tempted to nap; her blood was rac-ing through her veins in excitement, and she waited impatiently for the faint sounds in the silent house that would indicate that someone was moving around.

  The sky was just beginning to lighten when she caught the sound of water running and knew that she hadn't long to wait now. She turned on her side to face the door and pulled the covers up snugly under her chin. Forcing herself to breathe deeply and steadily, she waited.

  She didn't hear his footsteps; he moved as silently as a big cat, and the first indication she had of his presence was when the door opened almost without a sound and a thin sliver of light fell across the bed. Jessica concentrated on her breathing and peeped through her lashes at him as he stood in the doorway watching her. The seconds ticked away and panic began to coil in her stomach; why was he waiting? Did he sense that something was out of the ordinary?

  Then he closed the door with a slow movement, and she drew a deep, shuddering breath of relief. She threw back the covers and slid her feet into the waiting shoes, then snatched up the dark brown blanket that she had gotten out earlier but forgotten to take with her, and let herself out the sliding doors.

  Her heart was in her throat, interfering with her brea
thing as she ran as silently as she could around the house and up the hill. How long did she have? Seconds? If they left the house before she was inside the helicopter, they would see her. Had Nikolas been dressed? She couldn't remember. Panting, she gained the crest of the hill and threw herself at the helicopter, wrenching at the door. It had opened so easily before, but now it was stubborn, and she fumbled at it for several agonizing seconds before the handle turned and the door opened. She scrambled in and closed the door, throwing a hasty look at the house to see if they were coming. No one was in sight yet, and she slumped in the front seat, limp with relief. She hadn't known that escaping would be so nerve-racking, she thought tiredly. Her entire body ached from the unaccustomed exertion, and her head had begun to throb.

  Her movements were slower as she crawled to the back of the helicopter and tilted the seat forward to allow her into her hiding place. She spread the blanket and curled up in the space, her head pillowed on her arm. She was so tired that, despite the uncomfortable position, she felt herself begin to drift into sleep, and it wasn't until Nikolas and Andros boarded the helicopter that she jerked herself back to awareness. They had noticed nothing unusual, it seemed, but she held her breath.

  They exchanged a few words in Greek, and she gnawed her lip in frustration that she couldn't understand them. Madame Constantinos and Petra had taught her a few words, but she hadn't made much progress.

  Then she heard the whine of the rotor as it began turning, and she knew that her plan had worked.