For Love of a Pagan Read online

  FOR LOVE OF A PAGAN

  Anne Hampson

  She quickly refused Paul's proposition!

  “I'd make it worth your while,” he had promised. “You'd have a villa in the sun, a car and an ever increasing bank balance.”

  Knowing she was far from indifferent to this devastating Greek, Tina fled back to England.

  When Paul followed and offered her marriage, Tina was faced with another decision.

  She wondered if her love for him would be enough to overcome their deep differences.

  CHAPTER ONE

  He had known her for just less than three weeks when he asked her to become his pillow-friend.

  ‘I would make it worth your while,’ he promised lightly. ‘You’d have a villa in the sun, a car, and an ever-increasing bank balance.’

  She looked at him—at the tall and cultured Greek whose dark austerity and alien accent had attracted her from the moment they were introduced at an Embassy function she had attended in Athens, where she was staying as the guest of her aunt and uncle who were in the hotel business there.

  ‘You’re very quiet, Tina.’ Paul Christos’s voice brought Tina’s thoughts back from that first moment when, looking up into the olive-skinned face of the man whose hand was gripping hers, her heart had given an involuntary leap and the blood seemed to have quickened in her veins. ‘Does my proposal require so much considering?’

  Faintly she smiled, shaking her fair head at the same time.

  ‘Not at all,’ she replied calmly. ‘I wouldn’t waste my time on giving it one second’s consideration.’

  Paul was amused but by no means disconcerted. Tina felt it would be impossible to disconcert a man so self-assured as Paul Christos, ship-owner and producer of the finest olives grown in the whole of Greece. He was a millionaire several times over, her uncle had said. He had a luxury flat in Athens and a fantastic villa on the island of Crete, but he came originally from Langadia, in Central Macedonia, where a semi-pagan religion still survived in the ancient Dionysian worship which was uniquely combined with the worship of St Helen and her son St. Konstantine whose sacred ikons had been brought from Thrace and were now kept in the sacred grove, or hagiasmata. The cultists who indulged in this pagan worship were called ‘Anastenarides’. They originated from Asia Minor, bringing their ecstatic religion with them.

  Tina had little difficulty in associating Paul Christos with these pagans, since his features were etched on dark satanic lines, his mouth being harsh yet oddly sensual, his jaw inflexible, his eyes metal-hard, his hair raven black and forming a very pronounced widow’s peak in the centre of a wide forehead, lined and subtly formidable. Strangely, though, she was drawn to the man, drawn in a way she had never before experienced. He possessed an indefinable power, a magnetism that was as exciting to her as it was frightening. Asking herself for an explanation of her feelings, she could only think that because he was so vastly different from any man she had ever known before, Paul Christos intrigued her, catching and holding her imagination. His wealth, for one thing, seemed unreal to a girl who had always worked for a living, having lost her parents early in life and having been brought up by the aunt and uncle who were now living in Athens.

  They had moved there three years ago, but as Tina at twenty had an excellent job with prospects she had decided to stay in England. The job later folded up when the firm came on hard times and she was now struggling to make ends meet. It had been a strain to save for the trip to Athens, as the job she had managed to get was only temporary and in addition it was only part-time. She was now out of work, but optimistic about getting another job on her return to England at the end of the month.

  Paul was speaking, in his suave and alien voice, asking her—not without a hint of sardonic amusement—if she was trying to convince him that she was an old- fashioned girl, to which she answered, her beautiful violet eyes meeting his across the table at which they were sitting, on the verandah of her uncle’s hotel overlooking Constitution Square,

  ‘I have certain ideals which I’m trying to hold on to.’

  ‘You won’t be able to hold on to them,’ returned Paul with conviction.

  ‘Your Greek girls do,’ she reminded him, picking up the glass of iced lemonade which the waiter had brought to her along with the ouzo which Paul had ordered for himself.

  ‘They hold on to their chastity, but I wouldn’t say that has anything to do with ideals.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s nice that they should hold on to their chastity?’ she said.

  Paul’s eyes became sardonic.

  ‘They do it from necessity, not idealism. If a Greek girl wants to get married then she has to avoid anything that would blacken her name.’ He looked at her above the rim of his glass; she saw that amusement had mingled with the sardonic expression in his pewter-dark eyes. ‘I daresay your aunt will have told you that the Greek girl has no chance of marriage if she is seen even speaking to a man alone.’

  Faint contempt entered Tina’s eyes. For while she herself wanted to go to her husband pure, and new to the delights of sexual love, she at the same time abhorred the customs of the East where the woman had to be over-protected in the way being spoken about by Paul.

  ‘Greek men amaze me, Paul,’ she said, frowning. ‘They insist on marrying a virgin, but they have numerous pillow-friends before marriage.’

  He laughed and nodded at the same time, agreeing with her about the pillow-friends, but adding that they mostly had pillow-friends after marriage as well as before.

  ‘They do manage to find virgins, though,’ he assured her finally.

  She said nothing, allowing her eyes to wander to the rush and hurry going on in the Square below. Thousands of people scurrying about, like little ants not knowing where they were going. The policemen at the crossings, imperiously blowing their whistles if someone, either on foot or in a car, did something out of place. The crowd had to wait patiently until it was safe for them to cross; likewise the vehicles had to obey the rules. Nevertheless, it was still chaotic as seen from here, high above the Square.

  ‘Are you going to be my pillow-friend?’ asked Paul again.

  ‘I’ll keep my ideals,’ said Tina, and the finality in her tone ought by rights to have been more than enough to have stayed any further attempts at persuasion, but on the contrary it acted as a challenge and as she read his expression Tina knew for sure that Paul had always got what he wanted where women were concerned, since he had all they wanted—looks and physique, wealth, and an especial gift of finesse in the art of lovemaking. It was not for nothing that the Greeks had earned the reputation of being the most amorous race in the world. Tina had experienced his kisses, his gentle methods of persuasion, and it did not take much imagination to guess what he would be like as a lover. She had resisted, because of her ideals. It was owing to these ideals that she could resist; they were more precious to her than any thrills of the moment. When she found her lover it would be for ever, not for the fleeting interlude of erotic escapism and sensational flaring of the emotions. Her man would respect her. She would never believe that a man who had a woman before marriage ever truly respected her. Yes, she was an old-fashioned girl ... and proud of it! Scoff they might, her friends of both sexes, but she was immune to that kind of ridicule.

  ‘Beauty such as yours, Tina,’ Paul was saying, ‘is a gift which you should share; you can provide untold pleasure to a man—to me!’ Vibrant now his voice, and the eyes were dark as those of Hades himself.

  ‘If I am beautiful, as you say, then that beauty will give pleasure to a man one day, the man who becomes my husband. I’ll save it for him alone.’ She smiled then, a winning smile, but it was a little thin for all that. She had a feeling of disappointment, a sense of
loss. She and Paul had been keeping company since that first day, three weeks ago, and now it was all over, brought to an end by the question which she had been perceptive enough to expect. She had come on a two- month visit; there was still a fortnight to go.

  ‘Yes, it will give your husband pleasure, but before then—’

  ‘I’ve given you my answer,’ she broke in. ‘You’re wasting your time, Paul.’

  ‘I never waste my time where women are concerned,’ was his bland rejoinder. ‘I want you, Tina, and I mean to have you.’

  ‘You’d be edified by a conquest, no doubt. But you’re too optimistic. I don’t know what kind of women you’ve dealt with before, but I assure you I’m not like any of them.’ There was nothing antagonistic in her manner, and her eyes even smiled as they looked into his. ‘I suppose this is the end? I’ve enjoyed being with you for this past three weeks; it was rather lonely for me before you and I met. I’ve another fortnight here, but maybe I’ll go home before then. I’ve got to find myself a job, as you know.’ Her eyes wandered to the Square again, sloping from the former Royal Palace like a terrace. It was filled with outdoor cafes—tables set beneath trees, and white-coated waiters moving about in their midst. Tina watched a bootblack, then a man leaning against a tree idly twirling his worry beads. From somewhere among the shops that bordered three sides of the Square came the soulful strains of bouzouki music, so typically Greek, so sad with the pathos contained subtly within the melody.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Tina.’ Paul was frowning at her rather in the way a father would frown at an errant daughter. ‘The fact that you’ve no job to go back to ought to be sufficient excuse for your accepting my proposal.’

  ‘I don’t require an excuse for doing something which I know is wrong. I just don’t do it, and that’s that.’

  ‘How determined you are!’ He gave a small exasperated sigh. ‘What am I to do with you?’

  She had to laugh.

  ‘Forget me and look around for someone else—’ She spread a hand. ‘There are thousands of tourists in this city. You can have your pick.’

  ‘It so happens that I want you,’ was Paul’s quiet response. ‘It’s a long time since I was drawn to a woman the way I am drawn to you.’

  ‘Just a passing fancy. You’ll forget me within a week—No much less than that.’

  He looked at her with an odd expression.

  ‘And you,’ he murmured ironically, ‘will you forget me in less than a week?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she answered frankly, ‘I couldn’t forget you in less than a week. In fact, I shall always remember this holiday and be grateful for it We’ve done such a lot in these three, weeks, haven’t we?’

  If there was regret in her voice it was unintentional. She was philosophical about life in general, and situations in particular. Fate gave, and fate took away. To battle or protest was a useless drain on one’s energies.

  ‘Yes, indeed we have,’ agreed Paul. ‘And we shall do a lot more yet.’

  ‘How confident you are!’ she laughed. ‘I’m not willing to be your pillow-friend, so you won’t be wanting to take me around any more.’ Her thoughts back-switched to the lovely outings they’d had in his luxurious car. He had driven her to Delphi and they had stayed overnight in order that she should witness the incredible glory of sunset and sunrise. He had taken her to Mycenae, to Corinth and Cape Sounion—this latter several times, as they liked the beach and enjoyed the swimming. In the evenings Paul had taken her to dine at all the best hotels, and on occasions to the cafenions and tavernas in the Plaka. They had danced,

  walked, explored ruins such as the Acropolis of Athens and the Roman ruins as well. He had said they would go to Crete on his yacht, but Tina had been wary of a trip like that, expecting as she had the offer that he had made today. It was inevitable, since his desire for her was apparent in so many ways. Well, it was nice while it lasted, but now it was but a dream, a very pleasant one which she would recall over and over again no matter what other interests should come along in the future.

  Paul suggested they walked along Venizelou Avenue to Omonia Square. He seemed at a loose end, the first time since they had begun going about together. Tina shook her head, feeling that he would rather be alone just at this time.

  ‘I’m going to my room to have a nice quiet rest and a read,’ she said.

  ‘As you wish.’ His voice was indifferent; it came as a shock, so great was the change. She felt a sudden prick of tears behind her eyes and knew an anger with herself because of it.

  ‘Shall we say our goodbye now, and get it over with?’ she asked quietly. Another shock was in store for her. He stared her straight in the eyes, his mouth tight, his features harsh in the brittle sun of a July afternoon. The metal-grey eyes were narrowed and inflexible. Tina caught her breath, thankful that she was in a place of safety and not alone with him in, say, a place like Delphi at midnight, as she had been only last week. Midnight and the enormous moon over Mount Parnassus! He had taken her in his arms and she had felt all the magic and mystery of the ancient gods and heroes who had frequented the sacred precincts.

  ‘No, we shall not say goodbye! You’re being absurd, Tina! Ideals,’ he scoffed, flicking a long brown hand in a gesture of contempt. ‘You’re living out of your time and you know it! Aren’t you a believer in the liberation of your sex?’

  ‘Of course. What woman wouldn’t be? On the other hand, I’m not a believer in abandoning one’s beliefs just because of equality. In fact, my beliefs have no relation to equality. They’re mine, and precious. I shall hold on to them no matter what the temptation.’

  ‘If I had you alone, and could be sure of no interruptions, I’d show you whether or not you could resist temptation.’

  She coloured, in the most enchanting way. She really had a beauty all her own, with pure alabaster skin, apricot-bloomed by the sun since coming over to Greece; her lips were rosy and full, her nose small and perfectly-shaped. The high cheekbones spelled good breeding, the wide brow intelligence. Her hair was pale gold with tints that often resembled threads of silver when caught by the sun; her eyes were deep violet, limpid and soft, framed by long curling lashes, dark and thick. Her figure was slender as a nymph’s, her hands well-shaped with almond-shaped nails which had a natural polish. She had always been sought after at the dances and parties she attended, but no man had ever found his way to her inner senses; no man until this dark Greek who came from a pagan country.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, Paul?’ She spoke into the long silence which had fallen between them. ‘I’ll go inside.’

  ‘I asked you to walk with me.’

  ‘You didn’t really want to go.’

  ‘Why won’t you come to my flat? You came once or twice and then suddenly fought shy.’

  She looked at him and smiled faintly.

  ‘You know very well why I fought shy, as you term it. I wasn’t taking any risks.’

  His eyes were mocking.

  ‘Afraid, eh? And yet you’ve just said you’d resist temptation at any price.’

  Temptation, yes. But in your flat I’d be at your mercy.’

  ‘You think I’d use force?’

  She nodded without hesitation.

  ‘Yes, I do. You’re a Greek, Paul, and the Greeks are an amorous race.’

  ‘All men are amorous, when the opportunity occurs.’

  ‘Well, I don’t intend that the opportunity will occur for you—not with me, I mean.’

  ‘We shall see.’ A pause and then, ‘I’ll come for you this evening. We’ll dine at the Grande Bretagne,’ he finished imperiously. Tina agreed to go with him, not because she was intimidated but more simply because she wanted to go with him.

  They dined and danced and then they went for a drive in the car. He stopped in a lonely place far away from the city and took her in his arms. His kisses were like heady wine, the touch of his hands on her throat and her shoulders like the caress of a sea breeze but far more tempt
ing. She kept a firm grip on her emotions, determined to show him that he was not the conqueror he believed himself to be. He drew an exasperated breath after a while and withdrew his hands.

  ‘You little iceberg,’ he said softly. ‘How I wish I had you at my mercy!’

  Tina could not help pointing out that he practically had her at his mercy now, since they were nowhere near to any houses.

  ‘I’m not afraid, though,’ she added. ‘I believe you’d be scared I’d make a scene—what I mean is, I’d get out of the car and run.’

  ‘If I let you.’ He switched on the interior light and studied her with candid interest. ‘I don’t know about my tempting you, I rather think it’s the other way round.’

  ‘I haven’t tempted you, Paul,’ she protested.

  ‘Not deliberately. But you’re damned tempting at this moment, even. You’re so beautiful, Tina, and your body’s so soft and supple to hold. I want to caress more of it ... and to see more of it.’

  She turned away, embarrassed.

  ‘It’s late,’ she said. ‘Please take me back to the hotel.’

  ‘You’re very trusting,’ he said, a curious ring to his voice. ‘I could take you miles away from the city and— er—take advantage of you.’

  ‘You’re not the person to do that,’ she returned confidently. ‘Your flat, and the luxury of a bed, yes. I’d not trust you then. But something sordid is not in your line, Paul.’