Free Pagan Lover by Anne Hampson

observed. He was in white slacks and a navy blue blazer with an anchor badge on the breast pocket. She looked at him and it seemed impossible to reconcile this tall, refined and cool-voiced man with the bestial qualities which at times he could reveal.
    ‘No,’ she replied unsteadily, ‘but it was not to be expected that I would.’ She did not know of the wistful expression in her eyes, or that there was a sort of haunting beauty and charm in the sadness of her face. She did see the pulsation of a nerve in
Leon’s bronzed throat but never questioned the reason for it.
    ‘In
Greece,’ said
Leon, reaching out to take hold of her hand, ‘we have a rather pleasing little saying—the Greeks were famous for their eloquence at one time, as you probably know.’
    She continued to stare at him, confused by his manner, wondering where the arrogance was, the taunting expression of amusement to which she was so often subjected.
    ‘What is this saying?’ she asked when he did not speak.
    ‘We quarrel sometimes and then we “make harmony”. Let you and me make harmony,
Tara. It will be more comfortable for both of us.’
    Her mouth trembled, because she was affected by the change in him, the kind expression in his eyes, the request that they make harmony. The misery that had grown and flourished since the moment of her abduction seemed in some small way to be lessened by his change of manner towards her.
    ‘I—well, if you want us to,’ she began, looking down with shadowed eyes to the hand that held hers.
    ‘I do want us to,’ he assured her, an odd inflection in his voice. ‘Shall we seal it with a kiss?’ She was shaking her head as he bent his. She felt his kiss, gentle ... almost tender.
    Something hurt in the region of her heart and she could not account for it. She felt she could actually have come to like him had they met in circumstances other than those which had resulted in her present plight.
    ‘I don’t understand you,’ she faltered. ‘You’re—so different this morning.’
    The black eyes seemed one second to brood and the next to frown. That his emotions were mixed was evident, and his next words strengthened the idea.
    ‘For the first time in my life,
Tara, I don’t understand myself!’ And he appeared to be rather angry about it, as if to be baffled by his own behaviour was a circumstance exceedingly irritating to him. ‘If you are ready we’ll have breakfast—and don’t say you’re not hungry,’ he warned sternly but not unkindly, ‘because I shall make you eat something whether you like it or not.’
    She went meekly with him, overcome with relief at the change in his attitude towards her which made her feel some element of safety for the first time since he had snatched her from under the nose of her escort.
    And the change continued, with
Leon obviously intending to honour their pact to ‘make harmony. He said goodnight each evening and let her go to bed unmolested; he seemed at times to look at her critically, as if wanting to see a disappearance of the sad and strained expression which she wore all the time. On one occasion he had seemed to become impatient—as if he just could not help it—and had ordered her to smile, which she did, reluctantly, then asked what difference a smile could make either to her feelings or her situation.
    ‘You’re stubborn,
Tara. No matter what you think, I did save you from a disastrous marriage.’
    She shrugged impatiently.
    ‘How can you know how David and I felt about one another?’
    ‘I happen to know the kind of man who will satisfy you.’
    ‘That man could never be you,’ she told him firmly.
    ‘We shall see. Once we are married you’ll taste the real fruits of physical pleasure.’
    ‘So—so you haven’t changed your mind?’ she said bleakly.
    ‘About what?’ They were on deck, he in shorts and sandals and Tara in a bikini he had told her to wear.
    ‘I thought that perhaps you might be considering taking me