Runaway Sister Read online

  Samantha felt her body go taut at his touch. She wanted so much to throw her arms around him, but she resisted, and it was with a sweet agony that she deliberately twisted herself out of reach of his arms and said coolly, “Shall we go into the town?”

  “If you wish,” returned Adam, making no comment about the way she had evaded his embrace.

  He took her elbow as they walked down the incline from the harbor towards the lights of the Liston, the touch of his hand pleasurably firm. Samantha didn’t know what was holding her back—was it the fear of becoming too deeply involved with him and having her heart broken? Mentally, she gave herself a shake. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself, for one thing there’s no such thing as a broken heart, and for another, you like him too much already. So why not just enjoy his company, let the future take care of itself? But even though she was trying to persuade herself to think in such a carefree fashion, the little nagging voice at the back of her mind was telling her that she was hoping for more than a casual affair from Adam, so why not stick to her principles.

  “Penny for them,” said Adam as they started to walk through the arches of the Liston.

  “I was just wondering about this place,” lied Samantha, indicating the arches of the building housing cafés and tavernas around them. “The architecture doesn’t look at all Greek, it looks almost Italian.”

  Adam raised his eyebrows. “Since when have you become passionately interested in architecture?” he teased.

  Samantha blushed. He knew that her thoughts had not been on architecture, she was pretty sure of that, and she wondered if he had any inkling about what she had really been thinking.

  She tilted her chin at him defiantly. “I’ve always been interested in architecture,” she said, daring him to tease her further.

  “OK, I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t,” he rejoined laughingly. Then he said, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do, before we eat. We’ll do as all the Corfiots do, we’ll sit here under the arches, have a drink and watch the world and his wife go by.” His eyes had become dark pools of laughter, reassuring Samantha, who found herself smiling back at him.

  “That sounds like an excellent idea,” she agreed. “The problem is which café shall we choose?” Almost every archway under the Liston, as the huge building was called, was the entrance to a different café or taverna, and the proprietors or their waiters tried to persuade passersby to come into their own particular establishment.

  Adam paused. “Let’s sit where we can see most of what’s going on,” he said, choosing one near the corner of the street. “Here we can see everyone walking in front of the cricket pitch, and also everyone passing up and down this little street.”

  They settled themselves comfortably in big cane armchairs under the arches, all of which were dimly lit by old-fashioned chandeliers. The flickering light added an old-world charm and atmosphere.

  “Did I hear you correctly?” asked Samantha. “You did say in front of the cricket pitch, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” replied Adam. “Didn’t you know, they play cricket here in Corfu. Very serious they are about it too.”

  “But there’s no grass,” protested Samantha, looking with amazement at the dusty site opposite, where about two or three blades of grass were struggling to survive.

  “They use a matting wicket,” said Adam. “They have to, because grass just won’t grow here in the summer. Cricket has been played in Corfu ever since the British occupied the place in 1800-and-something. You must ask Dennis about it, he knows the history of the island backwards. You mentioned about the architecture of this place.” He indicated the arches of the Liston. “I think I’m right in saying that this was built during the Venetian occupation of the island, or at least was influenced by that. But again, you must ask Dennis. He’d love to take you on a historical tour of the island.”

  “Perhaps he’ll be able to, after the baby is born,” said Samantha, looking around. “I have read a little about Corfu, but mostly about the really ancient history. I didn’t realize that the more modern history was so interesting.”

  Adam ordered their drinks. He had a beer and Samantha a dry martini, then they sat back to watch the people thronging the esplanade in front of the Liston.

  They passed a fascinating half hour watching the world and his wife, as Adam had put it, go by. Samantha was amused to see the young girls pass by on one side of the road, wearing what were obviously their best clothes, trying to look as if they hadn’t seen the admiring glances of the young men on the opposite side of the road.

  Whole families seemed to come out in the evening to have a leisurely drink together. Everyone was there, from the babe in arms to the elderly grandma dressed in black from head to toe.

  Adam glanced at his watch. “We’d better be going,” he said, finishing his beer. “I’ve booked a table.”

  Taking Samantha’s arm, he guided her across from the Liston down the side of the cricket pitch towards the other side of the harbor. The restaurant he had chosen was right on the water’s edge in the harbor, there were tables inside or out, and as it was such a warm night they chose to sit outside. The water lapped only a few inches from their feet, and every now and then the quietness was broken by a splash, as a fish jumped to catch some unwary insect flitting across the surface of the sea.

  Samantha looked at Adam, his face illuminated by the glow of the small lamp on the table, his rugged good looks emphasized by the dim light. He caught her gaze and smiled.

  “What would they say at Princess Mary’s,” he said, reaching across to take her hand, “if they could see us sitting here, having a romantic dinner for two?”

  “They’d gossip,” laughed Samantha. “It would probably keep Jennie going for a week!”

  “Yes, I can imagine,” said Adam wryly, “but we’re a long way from Princess Mary’s, so we can do as we like.” His gaze never left hers as he gently raised her hand to his lips and placed a warm kiss in the palm of her hand. “To our continuing friendship,” he said.

  Prickles of fire ran up and down Samantha’s spine, and her voice caught in her throat. One little kiss in the palm of her hand had her melting with desire. “To our continuing friendship,” she whispered back to him in a barely audible voice.

  Luckily the waiter arrived at that point with a magnum of champagne in a bucket of ice.

  “Oh, Adam, how extravagant!” exclaimed Samantha.

  He grinned. “It isn’t every night I take a beautiful woman out,” he said. “I thought we ought to get the evening off to a good start.”

  The waiter made a great show of removing the cork with a flourish and a bang that had everyone else in the restaurant looking over to their table. Happily Samantha raised her glass and looked at Adam over the rim of the sparkling liquid; they clinked their glasses and each took a sip in silence.

  When they had finally finished the meal and were leaving Samantha was amazed to see that three hours had elapsed. The time had gone so quickly, they had found so much of mutual interest to talk about that the conversation had never flagged. She had also found out that they thought alike on many things, and that Adam was not married and never had been. He made no secret of the fact that he would like to settle down at last, and that he would like a family. Samantha for her part found herself confessing to him that sometimes, when she was delivering other women’s babies, she wondered if she would ever know that joy herself.

  “But I thought you said you were a career girl,” he said, reminding her of her earlier remark.

  “Yes,” admitted Samantha, “but that’s because I’ve never yet met anyone I wanted to marry. I thought I had, but I was mistaken—I know that now.” Then so that he wouldn’t misunderstand her she looked at him carefully and said, “And that’s why in future I’m going to be very careful about who I get involved with. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

  Ada
m did not reply, merely looked at her long and hard. Then he said as if dismissing the subject, “We’d better get the bill and be going. It’s quite a long drive back to Paleokastritsa.”

  Walking back in the darkness towards the harbor where the car was parked, Adam took hold of her arm, as if to steady her as they walked over the uneven cobbles. It had the reverse effect, for far from steadying her, she felt herself quivering with an emotion she recognized as raw desire. How was it that such a brief contact with him could set her aflame in a way no other man had been capable of doing? Determinedly she walked briskly along in the dark, determined not to let Adam see what havoc he was wreaking in her.

  “Afraid of the dark?” came his slightly amused voice.

  “No, of course not,” said Samantha in a cool voice that surprised herself by its control, “but you said yourself, it’s a long way back to Paleokastritsa.”

  “Did I?” He sounded almost absentminded. Surprised at his strange tone of voice, Samantha turned to look at him. She was just conscious of the lights of the cruise liner in the harbor as they turned the corner, before Adam drew her swiftly back into the shadows of the old castle wall to kiss her. His hand gently stroked the nape of her neck, his fingers moving slowly, sensuously, sending ice-shattering sensations up and down her spine. His mouth became hard and demanding and Samantha found herself arching towards him, responding with a wild passion to the desire his kiss inflamed.

  With a muffled groan he pulled her closer towards him, flattening her body against his, his fingers splayed into the small of her back, molding her slenderness against his rock hardness.

  “Oh, Samantha,” he breathed, “you’re so very desirable.” As he muttered the words his mouth crazed a burning trail along her jawline, finally coming to rest in the madly pulsating hollow of her throat. Rapturously Samantha clung to him, all previous misgivings forgotten. A fragile happiness surrounded her like a bubble, she was afraid to speak unless it should burst. So she said nothing, just contented herself with running her hands slowly across his broad muscular back, holding him closer and closer to her as she kissed his neck. The taste of his skin was like nectar to her, the heat of his flesh burned her mouth; she felt that she was on the edge of discovery.

  His mouth came back to her ear and he began running his tongue around, outlining its delicate shape. “I thought you were going to be very careful about who you got involved with,” he whispered.

  “I was,” Samantha whispered back. “But I can’t think straight when I’m in your arms.”

  “Good,” murmured Adam, “in that case remind me never to let you go.” Then his mouth descended on hers once more with a possessive certainty.

  His words had a heady implication that sent what few remaining defenses she might have had crashing into space. She was helplessly and delightedly enmeshed in a web of whirling sensations, beyond her control. With each breath she became more intoxicated. With an aching need to be his her lips sought out his mouth, eagerly telling him by her kiss that she was his.

  The sound of late-night revelers on their way back from some taverna brought them both back to their senses. The rowdy crowd was almost upon them before they broke abruptly apart, and Adam’s breathing was coming in shuddering gasps as he held her from him.

  “We’d better get going,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You and I have a lot to talk about.”

  “Talk about?” whispered Samantha teasingly, she was not ready to stop just yet. She slid her arms round his waist as they started to walk again, and laid her head on his shoulder. “I don’t feel in the least like talking.”

  “Well, I do,” said Adam roughly, untangling himself from her arms. “There are one or two things I want to get straight between us, young lady.”

  Samantha sighed. Once he had made up his mind there would be no changing him, she knew that from past experience. So reluctantly she did as he seemed to want, and walked with becoming demureness by his side back to the car. Stealing a glance at his profile as they walked, she was surprised to see that he looked almost stern.

  When they reached the car he unlocked the door for her and after chivalrously helping her in, went around to the driver’s side and slid his long frame into the tiny seat of the Fiat beside her.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I seem to make a habit of it, don’t I?”

  “Done what?” Samantha looked at his still stern profile.

  “Kissed you,” he said.

  “I didn’t mind,” she said softly.

  “I know you didn’t,” he rejoined abruptly, “but you know as well as I do that there’s only going to be one end when we get together, and you’ve told me today that you don’t want me to make love to you.”

  “But…” Samantha protested.

  Fiercely Adam turned to her, his voice grating. “If I kiss you again, I won’t be responsible for my actions. So you’ve been warned!”

  Softly Samantha reached out and touched him. “Adam,” she whispered, “I’m not sure what I want—I’m sorry.” It was true, when he had his arms around her, his presence blotted out everything else, but when she could think logically reason told her not to get involved.

  “Perhaps we’d better leave it until you do know,” he said briefly.

  The drive back to Paleokastritsa passed in silence. Samantha felt hurt, although she knew she had no reason to be. After all, he had been quite honest with her, and had told her that he wanted her. She knew that she wasn’t capable of saying no, but he had chosen to hold back, not her.

  On reaching the villa Adam parked the car and Samantha waited for him in the darkness while he locked the car and made sure the gates to the garden were closed.

  “Adam,” she said, lightly touching his arm, “I’m sorry I seem to be so contradictory in my actions. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

  He smiled briefly. “I know you didn’t, and I didn’t mean to become so involved either.”

  It was an admission that had an ominous ring to Samantha’s ears. He didn’t mean to become involved—why didn’t he mean to become involved? Was it because he was already involved with someone else?

  It didn’t set her mind at rest when as they reached the stairs in the villa, he briefly brushed a kiss on her forehead and said good night, muttering that he had some paperwork to do before he came upstairs.

  Samantha went to her room, and later she heard him talking on the telephone. He was laughing to whoever he was talking to, and his voice had an intimate conspiratorial ring to it.

  While she was eating breakfast with Dennis and Valerie next morning Samantha wondered where Adam had got to, but as she wasn’t part of the family she felt it would be too inquisitive to ask. However, her curiosity was soon satisfied.

  “Oh, by the way, Samantha,” Valerie remarked, helping herself to some more yogurt, “Adam should be back soon with Sophie.”

  “Sophie?” echoed Samantha in astonishment.

  “Yes. I believe you met her in England,” answered Valerie.

  “Yes, I did, but I didn’t know she was to visit here,” said Samantha slowly. So that was why he didn’t want to get involved! Her first instincts had been right—he had been involved with Sophie and still was. All the time he had been kissing her passionately the night before, and practically making love to her, he had known all the time that Sophie would be arriving the next day. No wonder you wanted to make love to me yesterday! thought Samantha bitterly. You knew you had to make hay while the sun shone, you want your cake and you want to eat it. Suddenly, instead of hurt disappointment, she began to feel anger welling up inside her. How dared he use her like that! Something to be picked up and discarded at will! The angry thoughts eddied around in her head so that she became impervious to the conversation going on between Dennis and Valerie, and was startled back into the present by the sound of her name.

  “Samantha.” It was
Dennis repeating her name patiently. “Samantha, don’t you agree that it’s not a good idea for Valerie to go traipsing around with Sophie, in and out of all the jewelers in Corfu?”

  “Well, I certainly don’t think it’s a good idea to spend all day on your feet in this heat,” she answered, puzzled at his remark.

  “There you are, then,” said Dennis to Valerie. “I forbid you to go and so does Samantha.”

  “Hey, hold on!” interjected Samantha. “I’m not quite clear what I’m actually forbidding Valerie to do.”

  Valerie sighed. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she said. “He’s quite right anyway. Dennis’s sister always spends her first day here scouring all the jewelers’ shops in Corfu, to see if there are any bargains in gold and silver.”

  “Dennis’s sister?” echoed Samantha, feeling the conversation was getting completely out of hand and beyond her.

  “Yes, Sophie,” said Valerie patiently, “remember I told you Adam has gone to pick her up?”

  “Oh.” Samantha’s mouth opened wide in surprise. “Sophie! I didn’t realize she was Dennis’s sister, I thought she was a friend.”

  Valerie threw back her head and chuckled. “Really, Samantha, do give me credit! I only suffer her because she’s Dennis’s sister, if she wasn’t I certainly wouldn’t have her here—she drives me absolutely mad!”

  “Oh, come on,” remonstrated Dennis gently, “she isn’t that bad. She’s lonely.”

  “So would you be if you’d been divorced twice!” retorted Valerie. Then she turned to Samantha. “Now, of course, she’s busy looking for husband number three, although this time he doesn’t need to be rich, because she’s collected so much money from the other two!”

  And I know where she’s looking, thought Samantha sourly, buttering a piece of toast with more vigor than it warranted.

  Sophie and Adam arrived at the villa just as they had finished breakfast.

  “Darlings!” cried Sophie dramatically, rushing towards Dennis and Valerie and kissing them both. She looked positively immaculate from head to toe, not a hair out of place, mascara, nails, everything perfect. Certainly she didn’t look like a woman who had just had a fairly long journey. Samantha felt decidedly scruffy standing there in her simple green cotton sundress and flip-flops.