Obligation To Love. Catherine O'Connor

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СКАЧАТЬ I’ll send for you,’ he said casually, tossing her the box with a gesture of disdain. His face suddenly broke into a smile again, and, in that brief moment, his dazzling charisma overwhelmed her.

      ‘Any time, Andros,’ she answered obligingly, catching the box deftly and rewarding him with a huge grin of her own. Andros nodded his thanks coolly, a bitter expression on his face. He understood women, knew that trinkets and baubles were all they truly sought. They were incapable of any finer emotions, he acknowledged grimly, quietly congratulating himself on knowing this simple fact, while other men still fell for their charms. Yet it had been a hard lesson to learn, he admitted to himself, ignoring the scars that still ran deep beneath his cold exterior.

      * * *

      The roads were teeming with traffic and Andros’s frown deepened as he began to weave his car through the crowded streets. His strong hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and clearly defined. He swallowed the gall that swelled up at the back of his throat as he thought about Dimitri. Had his cousin learned nothing from him? Andros shook his head—obviously not. No charming little female would infiltrate the family this time, he thought with grim resolution. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the red traffic-light. It was the sudden blaring of a horn that snapped him back to reality. He braked immediately and managed to avoid hitting the other car. A line of other drivers began to join in with their car horns to voice their disapproval. Andros viewed the scene as if he were a spectator, amused but unperturbed by the outrage around him. He watched the driver approach with interest; the top of his racy sports car was lowered and he could hear quite clearly the barrage of abuse the man was shouting at him, yet he remained unruffled, almost enjoying the man’s obvious distress. The man leant purposefully on the bonnet of Andros’s car, determined to vent his temper. Andros, with cool, slow deliberation, lowered his sunglasses from his face and gave the driver a frozen stare. The transformation was instant, anger quickly replaced by fear. The man jumped back from the car, his eyes wide with disbelief.

      ‘Good evening, Mr Christos, I had no idea...’ he began apologetically, as he shrugged his shoulders and shifted about uncomfortably. Andros allowed his eyebrows to rise slightly and he replaced his sunglasses with an air of dismissal. The driver hurried away, still mumbling his apologies and drove off swiftly. Andros’s mouth quirked with self-assurance as he made straight for the motorway, confident that there would be few road users who would not recognise him and allow him through.

      The drive home was long; it was a good hour and a half before the motorway ran across the Isthmus bridge, and then at last the road began to descend. Andros sighed with contentment as he caught his first glimpse of Lake Vouliagmenik, a shimmering blue oval in the mountains clearly visible from his village. He parked the car under the shade of some cypress trees and marched into the house. The interior was cool and silent. His heels clicked against the cold grey marble floor, echoing dismally in the emptiness of the large hall. He made his way to the heavy ornate doors at the end of the hall and pushed them both apart as he entered.

      ‘Andros!’ A small plump woman jumped to her feet the moment he entered, her relief at seeing him evident in her every action. She clasped him tightly, her arms wrapping firmly around his waist as she hugged him, as if trying to squeeze strength from him. He allowed her to stay there for a while, a rarely seen look of pleasure on his face, before he began to disentangle himself from her.

      ‘Now, Aunt Sophia, what is this all about?’ he asked, as he carelessly pulled the tie from around his neck and opened his shirt collar. The initial laughter and confidence drained from Sophia’s face and she sank wearily on to the white leather couch, her eyes troubled. Despite the warm colour of her smooth skin and the absence of grey from her dark hair, she suddenly seemed old to Andros, and he watched her anxiously as he poured himself a drink.

      ‘I have tried talking to Dimitri, but he insists,’ she said sadly, shaking her head in defeat. Andros shrugged his powerful body from his jacket and tossed it across a chair. He moved to his aunt’s side, taking her hand with firmness as he sat down next to her.

      ‘No doubt he has told you he is in love?’ he asked mockingly, a grin of amusement on his face. She raised her head but did not return the smile.

      ‘I know we have heard it so many times from my boy, but...’ She stopped as if frightened to continue. Andros stood up, dropping her hand as he did so, his attitude changing as realisation struck him.

      ‘He is serious this time—is that what you are trying to tell me?’ he demanded, his tone piercingly sharp.

      Sophia lifted her shoulders expressively. ‘It is true. They are so happy together—but I know it will not work,’ she added sadly, watching Andros closely.

      ‘Of course it will not work! How can it possibly work? This family has suffered enough,’ he said, barely raising his tone, but his voice full of angry conviction. Sophia nodded silently, her face full of grief as the past seemed ready to repeat itself.

      ‘What are we to do, Andros?’ she pleaded desperately, her dark eyes fixed on him as if he were a god. Andros sank back into a chair and closed his own eyes, as if trying to block out the look of admiration and expectation on his aunt’s face. He rubbed his hand over his face, suddenly feeling exhausted; the heat of summer was already building up.

      ‘Where are they now?’ he asked wearily.

      ‘Loutraki; she works there as a courier for a holiday company. Dimitri says he will bring her for dinner this evening. You will talk to them then, yes?’ she asked gratefully. Andros nodded abruptly and kept his eyes closed. His aunt silently left the room. It would bring back painful memories for Andros, she knew, but they had to prevent Dimitri from making the same mistake.

      * * *

      Andros sat up till late in the evening. He needed his solitude, time to think, but his thoughts were not about Dimitri. They were about himself and his own foolishness. It was so easy to imagine being in love as these two young fools were doing. He knew he had no choice but to forbid the marriage, and he was confident that Dimitri would obey him; was Andros not the head of the family? Dimitri would obey, he thought grimly, an iron determination hardening his already stiff jaw.

      * * *

      ‘Marriage!’ Andros spat contemptuously, unable to suffer the young couple’s innocence any longer. A look of superiority and derision swept across his features. He leant back in his chair, rocking it slightly as he viewed them both with barely concealed contempt. ‘It is out of the question.’ There was a finality in his voice that normally Dimitri would have immediately obeyed, but this time the boy was equally determined, and his eyes met Andros’s in angry conflict.

      ‘We love each other,’ Dimitri stated proudly, wrapping a protective arm around his girl’s slim waist.

      ‘Love!’ echoed his stern-faced cousin scornfully, the pain of his own ideals stabbing at him too deeply to be visible. ‘Love!’ he echoed again, as if it were the only thought more ridiculous than marriage. Andros’s eyes narrowed as he viewed the pair and his mouth set as he saw the look of resolution on their youthful faces. He turned to look at the girl, Melissa, with unconcealed dislike. She was too pretty, a child, unable to love anyone but herself.

      ‘Your family. What have they to say about this?’ he demanded, watching her closely as she replied.

      ‘My parents are dead, but I’m sure Hayley will approve.’ She looked at Dimitri as she spoke, her eyes soft and full of unspoken love.

      ‘Really?’ Andros drawled caustically. ‘Then I should like to meet her—’

      ‘Yes! СКАЧАТЬ