Waves of Fire Page 3

  ‘Are you intending to stay up all night?’ he inquired with a sort of gentle humour. She did not reply, but her pallid cheeks fused with colour and he flicked at one of them caressingly. ‘Don’t be afraid of me, Shani. I’ll not hurt you.’

  Hurt? Hadn’t he hurt her already? - just about as much as he could do? He had ruined her life, utterly.

  ‘If - if you will give me time . . . ?’ Her lovely eyes pleaded, her hands were outstretched in a gesture of entreaty. ‘I’m still shocked by Father’s death, and you ... you’re still a stranger to me.’ No answer came to her pleadings and she thought she detected a certain harshness and inflexibility in his eyes that convinced her she wasted her time. And yet she tried again. ‘Tomorrow night, Andreas,please let it be tomorrow night.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ He considered this, but as his expression was inscrutable she could not read his thoughts. After a while she felt her whole body sag as he firmly shook his head.

  ‘Tonight, my dear, it must be tonight.’ A strange hint of fatality in his voice caused her to lift her head sharply. ‘If you stay with me tonight you’ll stay with me forever.’

  She frowned. What an odd thing to say. The blood rushed to her face as his meaning - or what she concluded to be his meaning - was made clear. However, for the present she did not comment on it, merely saying, with an unconscious glance at the door,

  ‘You’re afraid I’ll leave you, now that Father has gone?'

  He swallowed, profoundly stirred in some indefinable way, for there was a movement in his jaw as if a strong emotion were being held relentlessly in check.

  ‘You could leave me, Shani and I would not want that.’

  Her lovely head went high in the air.

  ‘You desired me on sight, didn’t you? I don’t now believe for one minute you’d have exposed Father. You used your knowledge to get me, a woman you had set eyes on and instantly desired. But now you’re to live with this fear, which is really a punishment—’

  ‘I have never known fear in my life, Shani,’ he intervened in quiet and gentle tones. ‘I said I would not want you to leave me, but fear did not prompt those words.’

  ‘In Greece, I suppose, a wife would never dare leave her

  husband?’

  ‘In Greece a woman rarely even thinks of leaving her husband.’ She resigns herself to subjection, to the supreme mastery of her husband?’

  ‘Her husband is the master, yes,’ he admitted. ‘But - subjection? I don’t think I understand you?’

  ‘Mastery and subjection - what difference is there?’

  The question brought a slight frown to his eyes. She felt he could have explained better in his own language.

  ‘There is a difference, Shani, for I dislike intensely the word subjection, while mastery does not trouble me at all.’

  ‘It’s your intention to master me?’

  He frowned but said firmly,

  ‘I shall guide you and advise; I shall not let you make mistakes that could bring unhappiness or hurt to either of us.’

  ‘How very subtle!’ The sneer in her voice made him start in surprise; it was so out of character with the gentle nature he had come to know during the short period of their acquaintanceship. ‘What you’re really telling me is that you’ll restrict and order, that you’ll curb my will. And also you’re warning me not to look at another man - ever.’

  The last sentence had an effect on him that terrified her; his face took on an evil, primitive expression as his lips were drawn back and his eyes, naturally dark as are those of most Greek men, seemed to become almost black as the embers of jealousy smouldered in their depths. Shani stepped back, but his hand caught at her wrist and she was drawn to him, feeling the heat of his body and the mad throbbing of his heart. Never had she known such fear, never had she thought to have a husband possessed of emotions as unbridled as this savage from the East.

  ‘Another man!’ he snarled, his dark face almost touching hers. ‘Yes, my lovely Shani, that’s exactly what I did mean!

  Look at another man and I’ll kill you -- understand? You’re mine, my wife, for always. And if you ever forget that it will be to your cost!’ His lips closed on hers, cruel and demanding, as if he would force reciprocation from her

  despite her undisguised aversion for him.’ She did not struggle, and presently her gentleness, and the tears produced by fear, affected him as strongly as had her words about another man. His hands became softly caressing and she thought of him as a surgeon, using those hands in the service of his fellows, saving life. His lips too were gentle and when he held her from him at last she whispered hopefully,

  ‘Tomorrow night?’ But again he refused her request.

  ‘If you stay with me tonight you’ll never leave me -never, I’m very sure of that,’ he said again, and this time she did comment on it, her eyes revealing all the contempt she felt for him as she retorted,

  ‘That is the only way you can be sure of keeping me, isn’t it? You forced me into marriage and now you’ve to resort to this method in order to make sure I’ll stay with you. What satisfaction will you derive from it? I’ll never really be yours.’

  Her husband’s eyes were faintly puzzled; it did not dawn on Shani that she could have misunderstood the meaning of his words.

  ‘What exactly are you saying?’ he inquired softly.

  Shani thought of someone she knew who had married a Greek. The Greeks talk quite openly of ‘making a baby’ and before she had stopped to think Shani had repeated to Andreas what this Greek husband had said to his wife on the day of their marriage. But Shani soon tailed off, shrinking away, this time from the icy contempt that had replaced the savage fury in his eyes.

  ‘I do not speak broken English,’ he informed her coldly. ‘Nor do I consider myself so inadequate in other ways that I must of necessity resort to using this method you suggest in order to keep my wife at my side.’

  Shani lowered her head under the rebuke. It was a most odd

  circumstance that although this man was so blame-worthy it was she herself who experienced a feeling of guilt.

  ‘That’s what you meant,’ she murmured at length, merely for something to say because the long accusing silence only served to increase her inexplicable feeling of blame.

  Andreas shrugged impatiently, ‘Believe that if you must; but later, I think you’ll change your mind.’

  Change her mind about what? He spoke in riddles. Had he not just said that if she stayed tonight she would stay forever, so what else could he mean?

  She fell silent and after a while he asked her again if she were going to remain there all night. There seemed to be no possible means of escape and, taking up the nightgown and negligee that lay on the bed, she turned towards the bathroom, half expecting Andreas to pass some sarcastic remark about her action, but he said nothing, and on her return he was in his own room, The dividing door had swung to and although it was not latched it was almost closed. Shani’s eyes kindled with an odd light as all her good resolutions became submerged by the fear that engulfed her at the thought of the ordeal to come, She couldn’t go through with it. . . . Her glance moved from the separating door to that leading to the corridor. Had she time to fling on her clothes again? Where could she go? Aunt Lucy! Spinster, man-hater, she had refused to attend the wedding, merely expressing disgust at the idea of her brother's allowing Shani to get married, especially to a doctor, and one seventeen years her senior. Aunt Lucy would never contact Andreas, never insist on Shani’s returning to him. Yes ... she would be quite safe with Aunt Lucy. And Andreas would never find her, hidden away as she would be right up there in Nottinghamshire, Lucky she had never mentioned her old aunt, very lucky indeed. ...

  CHAPTER TWO

  THEY met in Matron’s room, husband and wife facing one

  another after five years. As she made the introductions Matron said casually,

  ‘Sister Reeves tells me that you were once a colleague of her father,’ and although Andreas’s eyes flickered
he gave no other sign that he was affected by the fact that Shani had given Matron to understand they were acquaintances, and nothing more.

  ‘Sister Reeves. . . . ’ An unmistakable emphasis on the name; a strong yet slender hand extended impersonally; eyes that bored into her without the merest hint of recognition despite what Matron had just said. His perfect composure and air of superiority set Shani at an immediate disadvantage and in spite of her efforts to preserve her own cool front she felt her colour deepen. A world of unreality closed in upon her. This man, so tall and lean and, to her astonishment, indescribably handsome, was shaking hands with her in exactly the way he would have shaken hands with Nurse Weston or Sister Louzides. No surprise or accusation, no fury or hate looking back at her as she met and held his gaze for a brief space before lowering her head. Had he known she was here, had he expected this encounter and been fully prepared for it he could not have evinced less emotion. ‘Tell me, Sister, how long have you been here, at Loutras?’

  ‘Two years.’ The taking of a post abroad had been for the sole purpose of putting as great a distance as possible between her husband and herself.

  He became thoughtful, as if calculating mentally. Shani gained the impression that he was impatient with himself about something.

  ‘Two years in Cyprus, eh?’ he said musingly, a small sigh following his words. Shani frowned. Was it possible that he had been looking for her? But hadn’t she told him, in the scribbled note she left, that he need not try to

  find her as she had no intention of ever living with him?

  - nor even using his name?

  And yet... This total lack of surprise was unnatural even in a man so notoriously unemotional as the celebrated Andreas Manou.

  He and Matron were conversing and as she stood apart, free to dwell on the idea that was slowly gaining strength, what had begun as a tingling of uneasiness reached the proportions of real consternation before Shani was eventually overcome by an access of dark foreboding that would not be quelled. If he had been looking for her it could only mean one thing; his desire had not waned in all these years. And if his desire were still as strong as ever then how would he react to the suggestion of an annulment?

  Supposing he would not free her? Supposing she could not marry Brian, after all? As if to add to her misgivings a sudden flash of memory brought back that frightening scene when Andreas had sworn to kill her should she ever look at another man. Not that he had meant it literally, of course, but Shani knew his threat was not to be taken lightly.

  She marvelled now at her sublime unconcern regarding the matter of an annulment. But then she had assumed that Andreas would welcome his freedom, believing the time must come when he would want a wife in his home, and children. It now occurred to her that had he ever contemplated an annulment he would have done something about it a long while ago.

  She must see him at the first opportunity, she decided, unwilling to dwell on the scene with Brian should the interview with Andreas not produce the desired result.

  However, she could not see him at once. She had a week’s

  leave and was going away that very evening to visit some English friends who were on holiday in Famagusta. In three days’ time Jenny would be on leave and she would join Shani and her friends in the lovely beach-side bungalow they had rented.

  ‘Lydia Murray’s getting along fine with our new surgeon,’ was the information Shani received on meeting her friend at the bus station. ‘He’s terribly abrupt with everyone except her — none of us envy you, incidentally. He s darned attractive,- but I should imagine he’ll be hell to work with.’ A small pause, and then, There’s a rumour he’s been married

  — and divorced.’

  ‘Lydia Murray,’ said Shani quickly, ignoring her friend’s last statement. ‘They’re friendly, already?’

  ‘Mr. Manou appears to be friendly with her - or perhaps I should say he’s rather less abrupt with her than with anyone else at the hospital,’ amended Jenny with a grimace.

  ‘He’s naturally abrupt,’ submitted Shani, still in the same abstracted way, as Jenny looked sharply at her, ‘I noticed this during the short time I was with him. He was even abrupt with Matron.’

  ‘I’d hate to be in your shoes, having to work with him all the time. It’s so awful when you can’t answer

  back.’

  That brought an involuntary smile to Shani’s lips.

  What would Jenny think were she to say, ‘But I can answer him back. I’m his wife?

  But she was not his wife in any way at all. A ceremony into which she was forced, promises made when her mind was blanked out with misery and despair, a first night that had ended abruptly when in panic she had fled from him, complete absence of communication between them since. How could she be married to him?

  Jenny made some further remark about Lydia, and Shani

  resolutely dismissed Andreas from her mind and concentrated on what her friend was saying.

  ‘I thought Lydia was working? Has she left?’

  ‘She works part-time only, in some office. But as you know she’s helping Dr. Gordon with his book and so she’s in the hospital quite often. Elli says she met Mr. Manou in the dining-room and was immediately all over him. They’ve had lunch together today, and Elli says she saw Lydia going to Mr. Manou’s house the evening before last.’

  Would they become more than friends? wondered Shani with a surge of optimism. Would Andreas fall in love with Lydia and want to marry her?

  ‘Do they go out at night, do you think?’ she queried eagerly, and Jenny’s fair brows lifted.

  ‘They haven’t had much time. Even Lydia is not as

  fast a worker as that!’

  ‘No. ...’ Shani blushed as her friend glanced oddly at her. ‘Mr. Manou has been with us only four days. But,’ she added absently, ‘Lydia’s very attractive, and he might fall in love with her straight away.’ Wishful thinking? Certainly. Nevertheless, Lydia Murray was more than ordinarily attractive, in a cool and sophisticated sort of way. She and Andreas would in fact make a most distinguished-looking couple.

  ‘If they did make a hit of it many people at Loutras would be pleased. Lydia’s becoming a nuisance.’

  ‘She hasn’t any real authority. Why does she think she can come into the hospital and give orders?’

  ‘For no other reason than that her father’s one of the subscribers to the hospital funds. She’s bored, and this gives her something to do.’ Having reached a taverna they automatically stopped for a drink. The tables were outside, shaded from the sun’s glare and heat by vines growing over a pergola. They sat down and gave their order.

  ‘If she got married,’ said Jenny, ‘and had a baby right away, it would please everyone. She’d have no time to potter about the hospital the way she does, issuing orders.’

  ‘I don’t expect she’d have to look after her own baby,’ commented Shani, seeing Lydia in her immaculate attire, with never a hair out of place. ‘She’ll marry someone who can afford to pay a nanny.’

  ‘Mr. Manou can afford to pay a nanny, I expect. Let’s hope something happens in that quarter.’

  Shani laughed.

  ‘We’ve had hopes like this before,’ she reminded her friend. ‘Do you remember Dr. Greyson?’

  ‘Wasn’t handsome enough for her — nor rich enough. She’s mercenary, that one.’

  Four days later Shani knocked on Andreas’s door. The hospital was not the place for the discussion of so private a matter, but she must speak to Andreas before meeting Brian on Friday. Brian was coming up for the weekend and Shani hoped to be able to assure him that the annulment would go through without delay. To her surprise the door was opened by Lydia, who stood there, waiting for Shani to speak.

  ‘I want to see Mr. Manou---------’ Glancing past Lydia,

  Shani observed that the room was empty. ‘I want to speak to him privately, but I see he isn’t—’

  ‘Privately?’ Arrogant eyes flicked Shani from head to foot. ‘He isn’t
here.’

  ‘I was about to say that,’ returned Shani with unaccustomed tartness. ‘Will he be long?’ Why was Lydia in his room? she wondered, though not with any particular interest.

  ‘I can’t say how long he’ll be, but in any case he won’t want to be disturbed. Can I give him a message?’

  ‘Tell him I’ll call at his house this evening. I’ll be there at seven o’clock.’

  ‘His house!’ The exclamation had the effect of making Shani bristle, and her little chin lifted aggressively.

  ‘Yes, Miss Murray, I shall call at his house.’

  The dark eyes kindled.

  ‘He won’t be in at seven; he’s dining at my home.’ ‘Dining at seven?’ Shani could only stare for a second or two. People did not dine at seven here. Nine

  it was, or even later.

  ‘He won’t be in at seven,’ repeated Lydia, and closed the door. Shani walked away, biting her lip. The interview with her husband would not be pleasant and her one desire was to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

  The following day she and Andreas met in the theatre. On becoming acquainted with the man who was to perform the operation Mrs. Forster had completely lost her fear, and it was Shani whose nerves were fluttering when Andreas walked unsmilingly in and bade her a curt,

  ‘Good morning, Sister.’

  ‘Good morning — Mr. Manou,’ she murmured in response.

  Andreas ignored everyone else, having already seen the anesthetist a short while earlier. Shani watched as he put on his gown and cap, assisted by the junior theatre nurse. His eyes met Shani’s as he put on his gloves, then they moved to the prone figure of the patient and finally to the anesthetist sitting by her side.

  As the first incision was made Shani wondered what he felt like at these times when he held a precious life in those long and slender hands. One slip of a millimetre. ...

  Her own hand shook as she passed him the required instrument; she heard a smothered intake of his breath and felt he was aware of - and impatient with - her slight nervousness. Was he despising her for it? Most probably, she decided, and realized with amazement that the idea actually hurt.