The Phoenix - Page 58

The fantasy faded away as the physical demands of fighting against the waves asserted themselves, making his arms burn and his chest heave. He tried to remember the last time he had been in a rowboat, never mind actually sat at the oars. Long enough ago that he’d forgotten how good it felt to have the wind on his face and the salt spray on his arms; infinitely nicer than working out on his state-of-the-art ergo machine back at the villa.

I must do this more often, he thought, then laughed at himself for the ridiculousness of that idea, and for how much he’d already let this bolshie young woman affect him.

‘How much further to the beach?’ she asked, her voice half lost on the wind as she turned to face him.

‘Not too far,’ he panted. ‘Around the next headland.’

‘The beach’ turned out to be a private cove on one of a string of tiny islands that Makis had bought up over the years, bribing his way around the notoriously complex Greek property laws. As they approached the thin strip of white sand, it was hard to imagine a more peaceful, idyllic spot. Or a more romantic one. The ruins of Delos were just visible on the horizon, but apart from those and a single, shabby fishing trawler in the distance, there was nothing to see but sea and sky. The island itself was utterly deserted, with only the occasional hardy olive tree, rooted stubbornly on the shoreline, braving the warm but relentless wind. For the first time Ella felt a pang of nervousness, remembering Gabriel’s warnings. ‘You’re alone with no cell reception, no means of rescue. He’s a killer.’

‘What would you like to do first, my lady? Fish, eat or swim?’ Mak asked, looking absolutely nothing like a killer as he spread their picnic blanket on the ground, securing it with rocks he found scattered beneath the trees. In fact, he was so handsome and charming, so flatteringly solicitous of her happiness, that Ella had to consciously remind herself that: a) it wasn’t her he was interested in but Persephone Hamlin, a figment of Gabriel’s imagination; and b) he was in fact, as Gabriel never failed to remind her, a psychopath. More than that, he was a man who sold children to predators, who traded in human life as if people were mere goods to be profited from, and who might be the key to finding the woman who murdered Ella’s parents. She was ashamed of her powerful sexual attraction to him, and worried that the shame didn’t seem to make it go away.

As if on cue, Gabriel’s voice suddenly rang out in Ella’s head like a bell in an empty church. ‘BE CAREFUL.’

Are you kidding me? thought Ella. Somehow the bloody man was managing to transmit to her, even here. Worse, she seemed unable to tune him out. Where is he? And how is he blocking out all my frequencies? The last thing she needed right now was a back-seat driver.

Looking around, her eyes were drawn to the fishing trawler out towards Delos. Could it be? She tried to remember what Professor Dix had said about hacking into local transmitters remotely. Could Gabriel or Nikkos have used the boat as a sort of mobile radio station?

‘I am being careful!’ she replied, waspishly – and foolishly, as she knew Gabriel couldn’t hear her.

‘What?’ Makis looked at her, his dark eyes narrowing.

Shit. Ella’s heart plunged into her stomach as she realized to her horror that she’d spoken out loud.

‘I’m being careful … with what I eat.’ Persephone scrambled, smiling reassuringly at her date. ‘I saw all the baklava you packed for us. Let’s swim first. Make sure we’ve earned it.’

‘Sure.’ Mak brightened, thrilled by the prospect of seeing more of Mrs Hamlin’s body at last. He passed her the simple cotton bag she’d brought with her on the boat, assuming it contained a bikini. Hopefully a skimpy one. ‘After you.’

‘NO!’ thundered Gabriel. ‘Tell him no. Keep your clothes on!’

Ella rubbed her temples, trying desperately to turn Gabriel off. Didn’t he know he was distracting her? She desperately tried to recall some of the other tricks that Dix had taught her. Why was nothing working?

‘Tell him you forgot your swimsuit.’

‘I can’t!’

‘Can’t what?’ Makis asked. ‘Is something the matter, Persephone?’

Jesus. I did it again.

‘No, no. Everything’s fine. I was just thinking that I can’t decide between swimming and fishing. I mean, I haven’t fished in years, but there’s something rather romantic about catching one’s own food, don’t you think?’

She touched Mak’s arm lightly with her hand and turned her head to one side coquettishly, successfully diffusing his irritation. Thank God.

‘I suppose there is,’ he answered gruffly, laying his own, warm hand over hers. A jolt of desire surged through her, so violently that she worried whether Gabriel might pick up on it.

‘You know … you remind me of someone,’ said Mak, his expression subtly changing.

‘Very careful!’ boomed Gabriel. ‘He’s trying to …’

‘Do I?’ Ella smiled at Mak, trying simultaneously to interrupt Gabriel’s signal with one of Dix’s mind-control techniques. If he didn’t stop distracting her, she was going to make another mistake, an

d one more might prove fatal. But to her immense relief, this time she succeeded in blocking him out. Gabriel’s voice was gone.

‘Mmmm,’ said Makis. ‘You do. And the strangest thing about it is that I can’t think who. But when you smiled just then, I saw it.’

‘What did you see?’ She moved closer to him. Dangerously close.

‘Something I recognized.’ Reaching out, he ran a slow, languid finger down Ella’s face and along her jaw, stopping just before he reached her lips. For a moment she thought she might be about to spontaneously combust with arousal. It took every ounce of her self-control not to show it.

Tags: Sidney Sheldon Thriller
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