Part 10 (1/2)

'Nevertheless,' he warned, 'do not lean over too far, and when you are outdoors be careful. The paths can be treacherous, with scree that's unstable, and it is easy to lose your balance if you too near to any sheer drops. Don't emulate the goats-they are bred to the mountains!' A half-smile tugged at his mouth, and Thea realised with a strange twist inside that it made his features less severe.

'You must be hungry after the drive. Lunch awaits us. Come.'

He led the way past her and down a level-the lower level of the balcony was linked to the upper by a flight of open-tread wooden stairs. The lower balcony was wider yet, almost a terrace, and a table with a red-checked tablecloth had been set out, laid for a meal. The manservant helped her to her seat, and she murmured, 'Danke,' which was about all the German she knew, apart from bitte.

The manservant answered something in German which sounded odd.

'Switzerdeutsch,' said Angelos to Thea. 'Swiss-German. Don't even try and understand it! Even I find it very hard still.' He nodded a smile at the manservant, who said something in more normal-sounding German, to which Angelos responded, again with a smile.

It was weird to see him smile. Weird to see him without a business suit. Weird to see him with the sun glinting off his dark hair. The sun was still dazzling, and the manservant crossed to the wall and operated a mechanism which resulted in an awning extending to s.h.i.+eld the sun from their eyes. Angelos kept his dark gla.s.ses on, all the same, and Thea realised it was making things slightly easier, not being able to see his eyes. The manservant was busy setting out drinks, opening a bottle of white wine, which, as usual, Thea refused with a polite smile.

She wanted to ask if the chalet was Angelos's, but why should she want to know? He probably owned properties all over the world. Rich people did. Instead, she found herself saying, 'How many languages do you speak?'

The moment she said it she wondered what had possessed her to ask a question-to show any sign of interest in him at all.

He did not seem to find her question out of place.

'Four,' he answered. 'Including Greek, of course. English is mandatory now, and I learnt both French and German while I was here in Switzerland at school.'

Thea stared. It was impossible to think of Angelos Petrakos as a schoolboy. Just impossible.

'You were brought up in Switzerland?' she found herself asking-and again immediately wondered why she had asked. It was not an unreasonable question. As Thea, she had come to know that many wealthy people of many nationalities were based in the financial haven of Switzerland.

'No, I was sent to boarding school here at thirteen. My father thought it a good idea to broaden my horizons. Switzerland is full of international schools offering an excellent education.'

'Didn't your mother mind you boarding?'

Questions were coming from her, and she didn't know why. It could only be, she reasoned, because she had gone into some kind of automatic social behaviour more, a.s.suming the kind of conversation that she was familiar with when she talked to people. How else could she possibly be sitting here, having the semblance of a normal conversation with him?

'She died when I was three. I don't remember her. I was brought up by my father. We were very close. I was his only child. But he spent his life working, creating Petrakos International. Overworking. He died when I was twenty-one.'

The clipped tones revealed nothing, and she could not see his eyes. But she saw him lift his wrist slightly.

'This watch was his twenty-first birthday present to me-the last gift he ever gave me. I've worn it every day since.' He paused, then said deliberately, 'So you will understand that its value is more than its cost ...'

She felt colour run over her cheeks. 'I'm not proud of what I did,' she said in a low voice.

'So why did you?'

The question slipped in like a blade. In her mind's eye Thea saw the sick, silver glint of the blade in Mike's hand. She slammed the vision away. She would not think of that-would not think about Kat and what she had done. Why she had done it. It was over, gone-another life. A life she no longer led.

Would never lead again. Whatever Angelos Petrakos did to her.

She gave no answer, and was grateful that their food arrived at that moment. Surprised, too, by the quickening of her appet.i.te as a rich, fragrant meat soup, sprinkled with herbs and enriched with dumplings, was set in front of her.

'You'd better get used to eating more,' observed Angelos. 'The mountain air is infamous for creating appet.i.te.' He spoke as if he'd never mentioned that she'd stolen his father's last gift to him. Then he went on, 'Tell me, how are you at walking?'

Thea's spoon stayed in mid-lift.

'Mountain walks,' said Angelos. 'It's what I come here for.'

She stared. The picture of Angelos Petrakos walking over Swiss mountains was not an image she had thought it possible to entertain. How could he be the arrogant Mr Rich and Powerful with nothing around him but mountains?

'I haven't any walking boots,' she replied, for something to say.

'I've had a selection sent up from the village, and a range of suitable clothing.'

Well, that was being Mr Rich again, certainly, she allowed. But then, so was owning a spectacular chalet like this. Yet it still seemed out of keeping with what she knew about him.

But what do I know about him except that he destroys people who cross him?

That was all she needed to know about him.

Nothing else. Nothing about the person he might or might not be. Nothing about where he came from, or what his family had been to him, or his boyhood. Nothing.

And nothing, nothing at all, about the way her eyes wanted to go constantly to him, or the way she could feel his presence, as if she were an antenna, tuning to its frequency.

She dragged her eyes away, dropping them back to her soup bowl.

Angelos watched her from behind his dark gla.s.ses. Would she have answered his question had the food not arrived? Would she have attempted to justify her behaviour? Her words echoed- 'I'm not proud of what I did ...'

Another echo sounded, from the evening before. 'No one should be Kat Jones ...'

She had changed beyond recognition-except to him. But had she changed enough inside to hate what she'd done as Kat? The question hung in his mind, unanswered, as his gaze rested on her as she ate, taking in her grace, her extraordinary beauty that drew his eye so powerfully.

But one thing he knew. He had been right to bring her here. Here, up in the mountains, with the busy world left far, far behind, at this lofty elevation where the air was crystal, the light clearer, he would see the truth about her.

And the truth of what he wanted of her.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THEA paused a moment, flexing her calf muscles. Angelos was striding ahead of her. He was setting a fast pace, but Thea would not be hurried. She was still getting a feel for the boots, and since she had no idea how far he was expecting her to walk she knew she had to pace herself. They were on a pine-needle path snaking up through the fir trees that encircled the chalet on three sides, s.h.i.+elding it from view of the road far below, and the incline was already getting steeper. It was very quiet and dark in the perpetual shade of the conifers, and when the path led out on to the bare mountain slope she blinked in the dazzling sunlight. Ahead of her, Angelos had paused to put on sungla.s.ses, and she did the same. Then, with nothing more than a glance back at her, he resumed walking.

Thea headed after him, keeping him in view but also gazing around her. It was impossible to do otherwise. The panorama was immense. The steep slope of the mountain side curved away to the road far below, getting further away all the time as they climbed upwards towards the ridge they were clearly heading for. After an hour or so of walking she could feel it in the backs of her legs. But she didn't care-the scenery around her was too glorious, the air in her lungs like cleansing crystal. She felt-even though she knew it was quite bizarre to feel this way, given why she was here and who she was with-a strange sense of peace.

It was impossible, here in the wide open air, so high above the world, to feel anything else.

After another half an hour she reached the ridge. Angelos had been there for some time, standing framed against the skyline, looking back down at her from time to time.

Angelos Petrakos on his lofty mountaintop, gazing down disdainfully at the common people struggling below ...

She said nothing as she finally drew level with him. She was not exactly out of breath, but she knew she was feeling the exertion. He looked at her, eyes still invisible behind his dark lenses, and Thea was glad her eyes were similarly veiled.

'Think you can make it up there?'

He indicated a rocky outcrop, jagged against the skyline, further along the ridge, which continued to rise until, way beyond, it ascended steeply up a bare rockface to begin a proper summit of the next mountain in the chain.