Читать книгу Lie With Me / Destiny's Hand: Lie With Me - Lori Wilde, Cara Summers - Страница 10

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ROMAN STEPPED OUT of the car he’d hired in Corfu Town. A sense of urgency had been growing in him ever since his plane had touched down. His decision to come to Greece had been made shortly after Kit had left his office two days ago. The trip was business related. Meeting personally with Gianni Stassis in Athens would allow him to finalize the details of their project. Oliver–Stassis Ltd. would be officially launched, and his dream of taking Oliver Enterprises into the global market would be realized. But Roman wasn’t a man who liked to lie to himself. He’d also come to Greece to check on Philly.

If his plane had been on time, he would have landed at the Corfu airport before Philly. His plan had been to have a reasonable talk with her and persuade her to go back to San Francisco. Or if that didn’t suit her, he’d take her with him to Athens for his business meeting with Stassis. At least he could keep an eye on her there.

Exactly what he was going to say to her still hadn’t come to him yet, even though he’d had plenty of time to think about it on the long flight. But he was a first-rate negotiator. Surely he could make Philly see the risk in coming to Greece to make love with a perfect stranger. And he had no doubt that was what she intended to do. A mix of fear and frustration streamed through him. She might be propositioning someone right now.

When his flight had been delayed, he’d had to reschedule his meeting with Gianni Stassis and switch to plan B—follow Philly to the Villa Prospero. The driver he’d hired had promised in broken and minimal English that he knew exactly where it was. Now, after a two-hour drive, the hotel was nowhere in sight.

Tamping down his temper and his growing sense that Philly had already gotten into some kind of trouble, Roman paid the driver, tipping him generously, and asked, “The villa?”

For a moment, the driver looked puzzled.

Roman made a sweeping gesture with one hand and repeated the question.

This time the driver shot him a beaming smile, motioned for Roman to follow and then grabbed his carry-on and led the way up the white-graveled driveway. Around the first curve, Roman spotted the small hotel and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe his luck was turning. Nodding his thanks to the driver, he shouldered his bag and strode up the drive.

Once inside the lobby, he let his gaze sweep the room. It was a pleasant airy space, with doors opening onto a sunny terrace where people were enjoying food and drinks. In the distance he caught a glimpse of an incredibly blue sea.

He turned his attention to a young girl behind the registration desk and read her name tag. He prayed that Demetria’s English was better than his driver’s. When he smiled at her, she responded by directing a worried glance at his bag.

“Welcome to the Villa Prospero. Do you have a reservation?”

He hadn’t made one because he’d expected to settle things with Philly in Corfu Town. Setting his bag down, he turned up the wattage on his smile. “No, I’m sorry—my plans changed at the last moment. I’m afraid I was depending on luck to get a room. I’ve heard so many good things about the Villa Prospero.”

Concern filled her eyes. “I’m so sorry, but we’re full. There’s a huge party going on at the Castello Corli the day after tomorrow, and we’ve taken in the overflow. I could try to find you a room in the village.”

When she reached for the phone, Roman stopped her. “That won’t be necessary. I actually came to surprise someone—Ms. Philly Angelis. Is she here?”

“No.”

Roman frowned. “She should have arrived by now.”

“She has, about an hour ago. Mrs. Kostas and I were in the middle of serving lunch, so Ms. Angelis went for a walk on the beach.”

Just the word beach had an image forming in his mind of Philly rolling around in the sand with some strange man. “How do I get there?”

For the first time, Demetria smiled. “Just follow the path at the end of the driveway. You can’t miss it.”

He almost did miss the path, and even though he was at the Villa Prospero and it was only a matter of minutes before he would see Philly, Roman found himself growing more and more anxious. Like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, he felt that he was late for a very important date. He didn’t possess any of the Angelis psychic powers, but his instincts seldom failed him in business. Right now his gut was telling him that Philly was in some kind of trouble. Was he too late?

In spite of the rugged terrain, the question had him stepping up his pace. He nearly stumbled when he saw the white cat burst out of the woods and streak across his path. Philly appeared next. There were pine needles in her hair and fear in her eyes. He barely had time to absorb those details before she crashed into him, threw her arms around him and held on for dear life.

At last. Roman threaded his fingers through her hair and pressed her close against him. For the first time since he’d landed on Corfu, he felt his anxiety ease. For a few seconds, there was only the sound of Philly’s ragged breathing and the rustle of the wind in the trees. He’d never held her like this before, never felt that slender, firm body pressed to his. She fit perfectly.

“There’s…a man,” Philly said, her breath hitching.

“Did he hurt you?” Roman drew her away so that he could study her face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m…” Her breath hitched again. “…fine. He’s on the beach. He’s…”

“Shh,” he murmured. She wasn’t hurt, he told himself. Frightened, yes. Fury at whatever—or whoever—had scared her threatened to rise up, but he tamped it down. Something had happened on that beach, and as soon as she settled he’d get it out of her. Then he’d handle it. But for now, she was safe. She was here. For the first time he noticed that she’d cut her hair very short. The curls and even that straight sophisticated bob were gone. In the dappled light, filtering through the trees, she made him think of one of Shakespeare’s more ethereal woodland creatures.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, but Roman felt the air around them grow thick and charged. Desire sprang from the same place the fury had a moment ago, and he couldn’t block it. Or he didn’t want to.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

For this. Unable to stop himself, Roman lowered his mouth to hers.

Her lips parted. In surprise? In acceptance? Roman couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t care. Kissing her was a mistake, and there would be consequences. But he’d waited forever to really taste her. Just this once, he told himself. But once her flavor flooded his mouth, he knew that was a lie. And he could have sworn that the rocky ground beneath his feet shifted.

She was sweeter than he’d imagined, but there was a bite beneath the sweetness. As he took the kiss deeper, he discovered a dark richness that he’d never experienced before. Then her scent wrapped around him and it wasn’t sweet at all. It was exotic, erotic, and it made him think of the Sirens who’d lured sailors to their deaths. For the first time, Roman understood why they would have gone willingly.

AT LAST. That was the only coherent thought that formed in my mind once Roman pressed his mouth to mine. I felt as if I’d come home. Then he nipped at my bottom lip, changed the angle of the kiss, and I felt as if I’d just entered a brave, new world.

The sound of the sea, so muted before, grew louder. The breeze so gentle just seconds ago whipped around us, a storm seemed to be brewing.

I could feel everything so acutely. One of my hands was trapped against his chest and his heart hammered frantically against my palm. His taste—I’d imagined it so often, but it was so…potent. His touch burned my skin and sent thrill after thrill rippling through me. But it was his mouth I craved more of. It was so tempting that I took and took and took.

Still, I wanted more. I strained closer. As if answering my demand, he slipped one hand between us and covered my breast. Pleasure so sharp that it bordered on pain arrowed through me.

His other hand gripped my hip and lifted. Wrapping arms and legs around him, I scooted up until we were pressed center to center, heat to heat. It still wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get close enough. My heart was beating so hard, so fast that I was surprised it didn’t burst right out of me.

Then suddenly, abruptly, he set me down on the path. I cried out in protest, but he took a quick step back.

“No. I can’t. We can’t.”

“What?” I gave my head a shake, trying to clear it. “What?”

“I’m sorry. I never should have—” He broke off to run a hand through his hair. The other one was clenched at his side.

Anger shot through me, and some of my brain cells clicked on. He was apologizing! Again! Suddenly I wasn’t just mad, I was furious. “You never should have what? Followed me here to Greece? Looked at me as if you wanted to eat me whole? Kissed me?”

“It was a mistake.”

This time it was pain that shot through me. But I pushed it away, fisted my hands on my hips and sent him a killing look. “A mistake?”

Roman said nothing. He was staring at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. But I was seeing red. Over the years, I’d worked on controlling my temper, but at times it slipped away from me. Usually right after I saw red.

I lunged at him and shoved him hard enough to make him fall on his butt. “What you are, Roman Oliver, is a big fat liar.”

I wanted to jump him. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until his head rattled. But if I went near him again, even for a moment, I was afraid that I would simply beg him to finish what he’d started.

I summoned up all the pride I could muster and pointed a finger at him instead. “Maybe you think it was a mistake to kiss me. Your loss. And you can stuff your apology. But don’t you ever try to tell me that you think of me just as a sister.”

I wanted to leave then. But my dramatic exit was impeded by the fact that Roman was blocking my path. His eyes never left mine as he rose and brushed off his pants. “Tell me about the man on the beach.”

My anger drained away as all the terror and panic I’d felt ever since I’d seen the bullet send up that telltale spray of sand came flooding back. “He’s dead.” I glanced around, looking for Ariel, but there was no sign of her. And I couldn’t feel her, either. I had to hope she’d headed for the Villa Prospero and safety.

Roman’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a dead man on the beach?”

I lifted my chin. “I’ll show you.” Then, whirling, I started through the woods, retracing the route that the cat and I had taken up the hill. So I was able to execute my dramatic exit after all.

TEN MINUTES LATER, I stood next to Roman on the white sand, exactly where the man in the wide-brimmed hat had been lying when Ariel had led me to him. Only he wasn’t there. The red stain caused by his blood was gone, too. There wasn’t even a depression in the sand where his body had been. Roman and I hadn’t spoken on the climb down the hill—not even when I’d slipped and fallen and he’d helped me up—but as much as I hated to admit it, I was glad that he was here. I felt a lot less spooked than I would have otherwise.

“He’s gone,” I said, stating the all too obvious.

“You’re sure this is the spot?”

Since it was a legitimate question and there was no trace of skepticism in his tone, I kept the annoyance out of mine. “I’m positive.”

“Any chance that there’s another little cove similar to this one and we angled down the wrong way?”

I’d already asked myself that question. I pointed at the Castello. “There’s only one cove that’s flanked by a fourteenth-century fortress.”

Roman glanced up at the towers. “Good point. And the man was lying right here?”

I squatted. “His feet were about here, and he was medium height.”

“Could you tell how he’d died?”

I drew in a deep breath as the image of the man’s body filled my mind. “He had a bullet hole in the side of his head.” I tapped a finger against my left temple. Then I pointed to the spot on the hillside where I’d seen the flash of light. “I think the killer shot from up there just below the Castello.”

“You actually spotted him?”

I shook my head. “I just saw a flash of reflected sunlight when I was racing after Ariel.”

Roman frowned. “Ariel?”

“The white cat.”

“The same one I saw dash out of the woods just before I bumped into you?”

I nodded. “She was the one who led me to the body—she was very upset. I’m assuming because of the name that she belongs to my cousin Alexi. He has two cats and one of them, Caliban, is missing. I’m hoping that Ariel is back safe at the Villa Prospero.”

Roman stared out at the sea, then walked in a wide circle around the area I’d indicated. “Can you tell if the tide’s coming in?”

I glanced at the waves and noted that they were closer than they’d been before. The base of the boulder that one of the bullets had ricocheted off of was wet now. “It’s coming in. That boulder was totally dry before.” Then I saw light reflect off metal. Moving to the boulder, I leaned down and retrieved a cell phone. “It could be the victim’s. He had one in his hand when I first saw him.”

“That will help the police identify him,” Roman said.

I tucked it into my pocket.

Roman studied the water. “How much time has passed since you first saw the body?”

I’d completely lost track of time since I’d realized I was being shot at, so I glanced at my watch, then considered briefly. It was nearly one-thirty and my driver dropped me off at noon. “A half hour to forty-five minutes.”

“So the body couldn’t have been carried off by the tide.”

“No.”

Turning, Roman met my eyes directly. I could read nothing in his expression, I had no way of telling whether he believed me or not. Even with the cell phone, I wasn’t sure I would have believed myself.

Finally, he said, “The killer must have come back and cleaned up after himself.”

Relief streamed through me. Then I glanced around. “Maybe not entirely.” I rose and walked over to the spot where I’d seen the sand spurt up near the white cat. The image was indelibly imprinted on my mind. The sand was damp now. Squatting, I began to dig with my fingers. On the fifth scoop I found the bullet and held it up for Roman to see. “He missed this.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed as he strode toward me. “How did you know that was there?”

“He shot at the cat, too. One of them ricocheted off the rock. Then I saw the sand spurt up.”

Roman glanced up at the Castello, then grabbed my free hand and urged me toward the trees at the foot of the hill. Once we were in their shelter, he told me to sit down and then he sat down beside me. “Start at the beginning, Philly. And tell me everything.”