The Power of the Legendary Greek(29)

CHAPTER TWELVE




AS THE first light of dawn appeared Luke propped himself on one elbow to look down into Isobel's face.

'I will give you six weeks,' he said imperiously. 'At the end of that time you will come back to me, or I will fetch you.'

'You're very sure of yourself, Lukas Andreadis.'

'It is the way I succeed in life.' His eyes glittered. 'I want you, Isobel. You are clear on this?'

She smiled wryly. 'Yes. But what happens if I say no again at the end of six weeks?'

'You will not,' he said simply, and drew her down into his arms. 'I will not allow it.'



It was a day of painful partings, starting with Eleni and Spiro, and  even Milos, who came to say goodbye. Before boarding the boat there was a  brief stop at the clinic for Isobel to say her goodbyes to Dr Riga,  then more at the taverna, to Alyssa and her parents. By the time Luke  carried her bags onto the boat, Isobel was desperate for him to leave  her alone with her misery. But, to her surprise, Luke sat beside her,  his arm very firmly around her waist.

'I shall come to the airport with you,' he said in a tone that told Isobel not to argue.

'But how will you get back?'

'I shall stay in Athens.' He tightened his arm as the boat moved out to  sea. 'I will need much work to fill my days once I am without you,  kardia mou.' He smiled crookedly. 'Did you really think I'd let you go  to the airport alone? You need someone to carry your bags, ne?'

Isobel leaned against him, her heart already wanting her to change her  mind and tell him she would come back and do, and be, anything he  wanted. But in the end her head took over and kept her emotions firmly  under wraps, even through the torment of parting with Luke at the  airport.



The flight home gave Isobel much-needed time to think. Although Luke had  given her six weeks to get used to the idea, she already knew that she  could never agree to the role of part-time playmate. If he'd simply  asked her to live with him, share his life in his Athens flat, or in  Thessaloniki, or anywhere else, she would have said yes without  hesitation. But languishing alone in some house in either city, waiting  for him to spare time for her, was out of the question, no matter how  much she loved him. Which she did, passionately. The wrench of parting  from Luke had been so painful she felt as though she'd left her heart  behind with him.                       
       
           



       

Isobel's spirits rose at the airport as she saw Joanna waiting for her.  Glowing and vital, chestnut hair gleaming, her friend was waving madly  as Isobel steered a luggage trolley towards her. After a brief  explanation of the walking stick, Isobel stayed put as ordered while Jo  fetched the car.

'Now then, Isobel James,' said Jo, once they were on the motorway  heading for home. 'The one time you cut loose on your own on holiday you  come back injured. Give me every last detail, please.'

But Isobel shook her head. 'I'd rather you weren't driving when I do. Are you in a hurry to get back to Arnborough?'

'No.' Jo shot her a worried look. 'March knew we'd want to catch up. I'm yours for the evening.'

'Great. Let's buy some food on the way home and talk over supper.'

The gallery was closed for the day by the time they arrived. Isobel  unlocked her private side door, gritting her teeth as she confronted two  flights of steep stairs. She hooked the walking stick through the  straps of her backpack and picked up her tote, but Jo insisted on making  two trips to carry the shopping and the rest of the luggage up to the  flat. She even took over the unpacking while Isobel first sent a text  message to Luke to announce her arrival, and then sat down at the  kitchen table to make sandwiches. When they were ready Jo planted  herself in the chair opposite and fixed Isobel with a steely eye.

'Right. Talk,' she ordered.

Isobel told her tale as dispassionately as possible. Other than the  occasional exclamation, Joanna heard her out in silence, then sat  staring at her friend, stupefied.

'What a story,' she said faintly and reached out a hand to touch the  ragged lock of hair beside her friend's ear. 'Thank God I didn't know  what was happening.' She looked Isobel in the eye. 'And this man-'

'Lukas Andreadis.'

'Yes, him. He wants you to be his mistress?'

'Don't sound so shocked!'

'Well, it's a hell of a cheek,' said Jo impatiently. 'I thought only married men had mistresses. So what was your reaction?'

Isobel smiled ruefully. 'When he first brought it up I turned him down  flat, and he stormed off in a temper. Luke is used to women throwing  themselves at him, so to have one say no to him was quite a shock.'

'That type, is he! So is your answer still no now you've had time to get used to the idea?'

'He's given me six weeks. After which I am to overcome my qualms about  leaving everything familiar and dear to me, and let him install me in  some love-nest in Athens or Thessaloniki, my choice. There I am to paint  my pictures and wait around until he has time to visit me.'

Joanna's jaw dropped. 'Which century is he living in? So what happens if you say no again?'

Isobel heaved a sigh. 'He has this Greek thing about fate. Because he  found me stranded on his beach he believes fate handed me to him on a  platter, so to speak. He's so certain of this he swears he'll never give  up on me.'

'Wild!' said Jo, impressed. 'So, if women throw themselves at him, I take it the man's no turn-off in the looks department?'

Isobel smiled as she took the portrait of Luke from her luggage. 'There  he is. Like no other man I've ever met. And I'm so much in love with him  it's going to be hell to say no when he wants his answer.'



The weeks that followed Isobel's return home were taxing in multiple  ways, over and above the almost physical pain of missing Luke. Working  in the busy gallery was tiring enough normally, even with the help of  the art student who came in part-time, but with a weak ankle still in  the mix she was exhausted by the end of her working day. And before her  holiday she had thought nothing of living in a flat over a gallery full  of valuable paintings. But now, even though the high-end security system  was allegedly burglar-proof, she was nervous at night and found it hard  to sleep. Even when she did she sometimes woke in fright from a new  nightmare, fighting to remove an imaginary cloth from her face. With no  Luke in the flesh to keep her safe in the night, his phone calls were  the high points of her life. And, as he never ceased to remind her, the  six weeks he had given her would soon be up.                       
       
           



       

Luke passed on messages from Alyssa, who ordered him to give Isobel all  the news of the island and to do his utmost to persuade her to come back  there for her wedding. Strange, thought Isobel, how she could be  homesick for a place where she'd spent such a short time. She gave Luke  messages to pass back to Alyssa and felt a pang when she heard that he  was returning to Chyros for Eleni's birthday, which, he said with  significance, would also mark the end of the six weeks.

Isobel posted off a cashmere shawl to Eleni as a birthday gift. Then,  after spending hours over composing a painful letter to Luke, she sent  it off, got rid of her mobile phone and bought a new one.

'Why on earth have you done that?' demanded Joanna.

'My time's up, but I just couldn't face telling Luke my answer's no, so I  wrote to him instead. I left the address off the letter and then  ditched the phone so he can't contact me,' she said wearily.

'You've made up your mind, then?'

'Yes. It was never on, really.' Isobel gave a mirthless little chuckle.  'Deep down, it seems, I'm the product of my grandparents' upbringing.'

Having made her decision, Isobel hid Luke's portrait away, but she hung  the watercolour of his beach in the gallery with a 'sold' sticker on it.  The painting aroused such interest it resulted in new commissions  Isobel welcomed with open arms, both from an extra income point of view  and as a means to fill time, which hung heavy since her return from  holiday.

Jo came into town once a week to take her out to a meal, a ritual she'd  kept up since her marriage. One evening her husband March came with her,  and on another occasion Isobel managed to catch Josh and Leo Carey with  rare matching time off from the hospital, which resulted in a hilarious  evening, as always when the four of them were together. Jo also passed  on an invitation from her parents to spend an entire day at their home  one Sunday. 'March is coming, too, and you can play with the children as  much as you like,' she said firmly.

Isobel accepted only too happily, glad of the chance to see young Kitty  and Tom, Jo's irresistible little siblings. The working week she could  manage. But when the gallery was shut on Sundays she had too much time  for the burning question of whether she had made the biggest mistake of  her life in cutting herself off from Luke.