‘What's that?' she asked anxiously above the growing noise she could hear.
‘Just a few stones and boulders dislodged by the quake rolling down the hillside.'
Lizzie gasped as the earth moved again, in a shudder she could feel right through her body, causing Ilios to tighten his hold on her. Had he loved her, this moment would have been filled with the most intense emotion-and surely would ultimately have resulted in them celebrating their survival and their love for one another in the most intimate way possible once they had had the privacy to do so. Sex was, after all, the only human activity that combined life, birth and even a small taste of death in that moment when it felt as though one flew free into infinity.
Ilios. Why had she had to fall in love with him? Why couldn't she have simply wanted him on a physical level and nothing more? Because she was a woman, and the female sex, no matter how much it might wish for things to be different, was genetically geared to making an emotional commitment?
The earth had steadied, and so had her heartbeat, slowing to match the sturdy tempo of Ilios's. In a situation that would normally have filled her with fear for her own safety she had felt completely secure, protected-safe because of him. But here in Ilios's arms there was no emotional safety for her, only emotional danger, Lizzie reminded herself.
Against her ear Ilios spoke again. ‘That should be it now, but we'd better stay where we are for a few more minutes.'
The warmth of his breath sent small shudders of sensual delight rippling over her nerve-endings, and the knowledge that his lips were so close to her flesh made her want to compel them even closer. Memories of how it had felt to have him caressing her skin with the stroke of his tonguetip broke through the embargo she had placed on them.
‘Will it affect the villa?' Lizzie asked, genuinely concerned about the villa but equally intent on distracting herself from thinking so intimately about Ilios and how much she loved him.
‘No. The promontory isn't affected by the fault line.'
Lizzie could hear voices as people called out to one another. Ilios lifted his body from hers. She badly wanted to beg him not to do so-and not because of the earthquake. He stood up, and then reached down to help her to her feet.
‘You've got dust on your face.'
Before she could stop him he leaned towards her, brushing her cheek with his hand.
She wanted to stay like this for ever, Lizzie thought achingly. With Ilios's hand on her skin, his gaze on hers, his arm supporting her-just as though she genuinely did matter to him, just as though he cared about her and wanted to protect her because he loved her. She moved towards him yearningly, only to have him move back.
What was happening to him? Ilios asked himself grimly. Increasingly his own behaviour was so alien to what he knew of himself that witnessing it was like confronting a stranger wearing his skin. A stranger who was challenging him for full possession of himself? A stranger who owed his existence to the arrival of Lizzie Wareham in his life? A stranger whose first thought was to protect Lizzie? Why?
Because it was in his own interests to protect her. He had a vested interest in her safety after all.
No one in the village seemed particularly disturbed by the tremor. Everyone was going about their normal business, and men were working to clear the debris from the hillside from the road as Lizzie got to her feet.
‘Are you okay?' Ilios asked her.
‘Yes, thanks to you.'
Oh, yes, he was definitely withdrawing from her-rejecting her gratitude, rejecting anything remotely emotional between them, and of course rejecting her physically.
Ilios stepped back from her physically as well as emotionally with a brisk nod of his head. ‘In ancient times they used to believe that it was the gods' anger that was responsible for these tremors,' he commented a few minutes later as he opened the car door for Lizzie. ‘Now we construct buildings especially designed to cope with the movement caused by them.'
Chapter Thirteen
RIDICULOUSLY, since she had done next to nothing all day other than sightsee and enjoy the rooftop garden of Ilios's apartment, Lizzie felt incredibly tired. She tried to stifle a yawn and look instead as though she was enjoying the reception she and Ilios were attending as part of an incentive by the Greek government to attract new business to the area. Naturally Ilios, as head of a locally based business which was successful internationally, was in great demand, and he had apologised for having to desert her to talk business with someone who had asked to be introduced to him.
She wasn't the only wife left to stand alone nursing a drink, Lizzie recognised as she glanced round the elegant hotel ballroom where the reception was being held. But her glass merely contained water. Champagne was something she was determined to avoid for as long as she was married to Ilios.
A smile of recognition from one of the women she had met at the gallery opening had her heading towards her in relief. Now that she was a little wiser about Thessaloniki society she dressed accordingly-overdressed, in fact, by her normal standards. Tonight, in addition to her designer dress in yellow silk, she was also wearing the jewellery. Ilios had a position to maintain, after all, and not just for the sake of his own personal status. The employees of Manos Construction depended on him, and on the success of the business. An immaculately coiffed and groomed wife said that a man had both good taste and money-re-assuring values where other businessmen were concerned, no matter how much Lizzie might wish for a simpler and more straightforward way of doing business.
Engrossed in her own thoughts as she wove her way through the crowded room, she didn't see Ilios's cousin-to whom she had been introduced by Ilios earlier-making a beeline for her, until he was standing in front of her blocking her way.
Lizzie's heart sank.
When Ilios had warned her that his cousin was likely to be present she had been curious to meet him. Her private view was that Ilios, for perfectly good reasons rooted in their shared childhood, had turned him into a more unpleasant figure than he actually was.
It had taken less than a minute in Tino Manos's company for her to recognise that she had been wrong. If anything, Ilios's cousin was even more unpleasant than Ilios had said.
‘So,' he announced now, with an unpleasant leer, ‘an opportunity to talk to the new bride, my cousin-in-law, without Ilios standing over us.'
As he spoke Tino's gaze was fixed on her breasts, discreetly covered by the high neckline of the silk dress which wasn't in the least bit provocative. Nevertheless, the way Ilios's cousin was looking at her made Lizzie feel like crossing her arms over her chest, to protect her body from his unwanted visual inspection.
It was strange how you could sometimes know the minute you met a person whether or not you were going to like them, Lizzie reflected, and tried not to show how desperately she wanted to escape.
Short and thickset, with overly familiar sharp dark eyes, Tino Manos was the kind of man Lizzie knew she would have disliked no matter who he was related to. She could understand now all too easily why Ilios had spoken as he had when she had suggested that for the sake of his sons he should try to ‘mend fences' with his cousin. No sane parent would ever want to entrust his vulnerable children's emotional wellbeing and future to a man like this.
‘You are to be congratulated on having caught Ilios. You must have something very special indeed to have persuaded him to give up his freedom having always sworn that he would never marry.'
Lizzie fought hard not to show how offensive she found his unsubtle hints as to why Ilios might have married her and to remain detached. The way Tino was looking at her and the tone of his voice repelled her physically and emotionally, and it was with great relief that she heard Ilios answering his cousin in an even tone.
‘Yes, she does, Tino-and that something is my love.'