Rhea squinted in the sunlight as she looked up at her. ‘I’ve embarrassed you.’
‘No.’ Helen spoke sharply. ‘Why—?’
‘Talking about Milos,’ broke in Rhea softly. ‘I get the feeling there was more to your relationship than just a casual encounter.’
‘You’re wrong.’ But Helen was breathing faster now and she knew the other girl had noticed.
‘I’m not suggesting you had an affair,’ Rhea continued lightly. ‘After all, you were married, as you say. But I know how attractive my brother is. And he was obviously quite—intrigued—by you.’
‘No.’
It was all Helen could think of, but Rhea wasn’t to be put off. ‘There is some history there, I know it,’ she said. ‘And if you will not tell me, then I will just have to ask Milos. Then pirazi , it doesn’t matter. Shall we go and see if Melissa is awake?’
Conversely, Helen was loath to leave the subject now. She dreaded to think what Milos would say if Rhea asked him how they’d met. And if he gave her different dates, she was bound to be suspicious. Oh, what a tangled web she’d woven for herself.
But there was nothing she could do or say to change things now and she was grateful that Melissa’s chatter meant there were no awkward silences on the journey home. The younger girl had awoken from her nap full of energy and eager to arrange another meeting with Rhea.
Helen wished there were some way she could discourage their association, but there wasn’t. Not without alienating her daughter, anyway. She just wished she didn’t have the feeling that Rhea might be using her friendship with Melissa to find out more about Melissa’s mother.
It was a relief of sorts when Rhea dropped them at Aghios Petros and took her leave. Melissa insisted on going to see her off and Sam Campbell, who had offered the Greek girl a drink, which she had declined, now invited his daughter to join him as he checked on the grapes.
She realised it had just been an excuse for them to be alone together when he said abruptly, ‘You didn’t enjoy it, did you? Melissa obviously did, but you didn’t.’
Helen sighed. ‘Rhea and Melissa have more in common with each other,’ she replied, forcing a light tone. Then, once again taking the defensive, ‘Have you had a good day?’
‘Is it Milos?’ Her father was either astonishingly shrewd or Helen’s face was pathetically easy to read. ‘You’ve seen him today, haven’t you?’
‘How do you know that?’
Her father shrugged. ‘Does it matter?’
Helen bit her lip. ‘Well, only for a short while,’ she admitted, not altogether truthfully. ‘He left for Athens—’
‘Not until this afternoon, surely,’ remarked her father mildly. ‘I spoke to him a couple of hours ago from the helicopter.’ He paused. ‘He told me he’d taken you to Vassilios. Did you like it?’
Did she like it? Helen knew an almost hysterical desire to laugh. ‘I—thought it was an impressive house,’ she said at last, wishing she could escape all these questions. She had thought that she’d be free of them once Rhea had left.
‘Did Melissa go with you?’
‘I—no.’ Helen was obliged to be truthful. ‘She and Rhea went to the beach. I’d have liked to go with them.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘No.’
‘Because Milos invited you to see his house?’
Because Milos insisted she see his house, Helen wanted to answer tersely. But all she said was, ‘Yes,’ hoping Sam would leave it at that.
Of course, he didn’t. ‘You dislike Milos, don’t you?’ he said, picking a handful of tiny green grapes from the vine and handing them to her to taste. ‘I’m curious why. What happened between you two when he came to England? He must have done something to make you dislike him so much.’
‘I don’t dislike him.’ Helen used the grapes as an excuse to turn away. ‘Mmm, these are really delicious.’
‘They’re not sweet enough yet,’ said her father drily. ‘In another three months, they’ll taste altogether different.’ He hesitated. ‘I’d like to think you and Melissa would visit us again for the harvest. I hope it’s not my imagination, but I think Melissa has changed since she came here.’
At last, Helen could speak freely. ‘Oh, she has,’ she said eagerly. ‘I think she needed a masculine influence in her life. Since Richard—well, since Richard died, she has become increasingly rebellious. Although I have to admit, she wasn’t much different when he was alive.’
‘She never talks about him, you know.’
‘I know,’ Helen sighed. ‘That used to worry me, too.’
‘Mmm.’ Her father was thoughtful. ‘She doesn’t seem to have any problem in talking to Milos.’
‘She hardly knows him.’ Helen tried to sound dismissive.
‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Sam was persistent. ‘You should have heard her chatting to him the other evening when you were talking to Alex. I think she likes him. A lot. I just wish you felt the same.’
‘Dad!’
‘What?’ He held up his hands in self defence. ‘Milos is a good friend of mine, and Maya’s. Is it so unreasonable that I’d like my daughter to show him some respect?’
‘I do respect him,’ said Helen shortly, glancing back towards the house. ‘I’m sorry if you think I’ve been rude. That wasn’t my intention.’
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