The Innocent's Shameful Secret

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It was already after seven when she awoke, and for a while she lay watching with languid pleasure how the evening sunlight slatted through the shutters across the marble tiles.

Yes, she had to get ready, but it wouldn’t take long. There weren’t any anxious choices to make over how to dress for dinner. There was her denim skirt with a white top, or her denim skirt and the other white top.

Travelling light has its advantages, Mr Constantinou, she addressed him silently as she wriggled off the bed.

It was the prettier of the two maids she’d seen earlier who came to collect her and escort her to the restaurant on the ground floor, and her sideways glance, although polite, conveyed she was not greatly impressed by either the denim skirt or the other white top, or by the fact that Selena, on some inexplicable impulse, had plaited her hair into the severe braid preferred by Aunt Nora.

But then, thought Selena, I’m here on business, not out to impress—anyone.

The dining room was a large, airy room, most of its tables already occupied, and Selena attracted little attention as a waiter conducted her to a secluded corner partly screened from the rest of the room by a trellis supporting foliage plants growing in terracotta pots.

As she sat down, Selena realised it was the first time she’d ever eaten alone in a hotel. What a sheltered life you’ve led, Miss Blake, she mocked herself.

It had only just dawned on her that the table was set for two when Alexis Constantinou appeared, sauntering across the dining room, exchanging smiling greetings with the other diners as he approached, and clearly heading straight for her corner.

Oh, please no, she begged under her breath as her tense fingers crumpled the linen napkin she was spreading on her lap.

‘Kalispera,’ he said as he took the chair opposite. ‘That means good evening.’

‘Yes,’ she said shortly. ‘I picked up a few words on the flight. That was one of them.’

No one would have mistaken him for a barman now, even someone with an Olympic gold for leaping to conclusions, she conceded ruefully.

He’d shaved, for one thing, and the elegant, pale grey suit he was wearing was offset by a charcoal shirt, carrying the unmistakable sheen of silk, and open at the neck, revealing several inches of bronzed, hair-darkened skin, which it would be safer to ignore.

No, not handsome, she thought in sudden bewilderment, but stunningly, mind-blowingly attractive in a way she’d never encountered before. Or never been aware of, at any rate.

By contrast, she must look like something the cat dragged in.

‘Excellent.’ He smiled at her. ‘Perhaps during our acquaintance, we will be able to extend your repertoire.’

‘I doubt if there’ll be time.’ She adjusted a perfectly placed fork, crossly aware that her skin was warming. She added hurriedly, ‘I’m hoping that you have some news for me.’

‘I have certainly made enquiries among the staff,’ he returned. ‘But so far, without result.’

‘Perhaps they’re shielding him.’

‘I never thought he was that popular,’ he said drily. He paused. ‘It seems, this time, he took the trouble to be discreet.’

This time, Selena repeated under her breath and winced.

He saw and said more gently, ‘Forgive me. I meant it might indicate that this time he could be genuinely in love.’

‘In two weeks?’ Her objection was instant and vehement. ‘That’s ridiculous. No one could possibly fall truly in love that quickly.’

‘You don’t think so?’

‘Of course not. People have to—to like each other first. Be friends. Enjoy each other’s company. Have shared interests, and learn respect for each other’s opinions.’ My God, she thought. I sound like my great-grandmother.

His brows lifted. ‘That is how it was for you?’ His tone was politely interested.

And what was she supposed to say to that? To admit she could count the number of her dates, all strictly casual, on the fingers of one hand?

It might be best, safer, she thought uneasily, to make him think she was involved. ‘Yes,’ she said defiantly. ‘As a matter of fact.’

‘And that is how it sounds, pedhi mou.’ His dark eyes glinted at her. ‘Matter of fact.’

A change of subject seemed well overdue. She said, ‘What do you keep calling me?’ She tried to pronounce the words as he had.

‘It means—my little one.’

She lifted her chin. ‘Then please don’t say it again. It’s—demeaning. I am not a child.’

‘Po, po, po,’ he said softly. ‘Then why tie back your beautiful hair like a little girl at school?’

‘Because it’s cool,’ she said. ‘And neat.’

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That is how you see yourself, perhaps?’

‘I’m too busy to give it much thought,’ she retorted. ‘Besides, all that’s important to me right now is my sister’s well-being.’ She paused. ‘How do we go about finding her?’

‘Quietly,’ he said. ‘Another reason not to go to the police. People talk and news travels fast. It is better your sister does not know you are here to collect her, so she and Kostas do not run away to another island, or even to the mainland and add to your difficulties.’

He beckoned and a waiter arrived at the table with an ice bucket, a gold-foiled bottle and two flutes.

‘Champagne?’ Selena asked incredulously. Another first. ‘What is there to celebrate?’

‘As yet, nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘So let us toast a beginning. The launch, if you wish, of our quest and its ultimate success.’