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Still wordless, she nodded. There was a breathlessness in her—a headiness that had nothing to do with the consumption of champagne and wine and everything to do with Nikos holding her hand, leading her away.
They went back out on to the wide marble terrace and down to the far end where, Diana realised, there was a flight of steps that would take them upwards to the roof.
As they gained the flat surface she gave an audible gasp. Only a very dim torch, low down, lit the top of the steps. Beyond there was velvet darkness. A darkness that was pierced only above their heads by a forest of stars, the incandescence of them burning through the floor of heaven.
She lifted her hand. ‘It’s as if I could reach up and pluck one down, they seem so close!’ she said in wonder.
Nikos tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, leading her carefully, mindful of her high heels, into the centre of the wide flat rooftop, which was carpeted like a roofless open-air room. Roofed by stars.
The sky was like a bowl, inset with stars down to the horizon, or so it seemed—a horizon marked only by the rounded edges of the dunes, the jagged outlines of rocks and outcrops. She gazed about her, lips parted, awestruck, tilting back her head.
She dimly was aware that she was leaning against the strong column of Nikos’s body to give herself balance. He was gazing upwards too, his gaze sweeping in wide arcs to take it all in. He started to name the constellations that were visible at these latitudes, at this season, raising his arm to guide her.
‘It’s the most glorious thing I’ve seen in my life!’ She sighed, still breathless with awe.
‘Do you want the telescope set up?’ he asked her, but she shook her head.
‘No, for tonight this is enough—I can’t take it all in as it is.’ She turned to face him. ‘Oh, Nikos, this is the most wonderful sight!’
‘It is indeed,’ he said. ‘And we can see them better still if we lie down...’
He gestured to something that had not at first been visible to Diana, but now, with her darkness-adjusted eyes, she saw that—incongruous as it might appear—there was what seemed to be a king-sized divan in the centre of the rooftop, presumably set there for the very purpose of lying down to see the stars. Already her neck was aching with tilting her head upwards, and her feet in their high heels were scarcely prepared for long standing.
Gratefully she let Nikos guide her, help her to ease down, to take off her shoes—not needed now—and then lie back on the myriad cushions piled on the silk-covered divan.
‘Oh, that’s better,’ she said gratefully, able now to gaze straight up at the night sky.
She felt the divan dip slightly as Nikos’s heavy form came down on the other side. With half her mind she felt a flicker go through her—maybe she and Nikos lying virtually side by side like this, all alone under the desert night sky, was not the wisest thing. Then she brushed it aside. This was an experience to be made the very most of. They were here to star-gaze—nothing else.
For a while they simply lay quietly, gazing upwards. Speech seemed not just superfluous, but intrusive. The cushion beneath Diana’s head was soft, but because of her elaborate coiffure it was not entirely comfortable. She shifted position slightly, and then heard Nikos speak beside her in the dark.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s my hair,’ she said. ‘This style is designed to be vertical, not horizontal.’ She propped herself up, reaching with her other hand behind her head, patting it to see where the pins were.
‘Let me help,’ said Nikos.
He levered himself to a sitting position and turned her shoulders slightly, to give him greater access to the back of her head. For reasons she did not want to explore, Diana let him. It was easier for him to do it than for her.
But there was more about this than ease of access. She dipped her head slightly. And as his fingers worked gently over the intricate plaits and coils, seeking pins and grips, she felt a great sensuous languor creep over her. His touch was delicate, feathering through her hair, and as each pin was removed she felt its loosening go through her. Felt a slow surge of blood start to pulse through her.
‘Oh, that feels so good...’ She sighed as coil after coil was released, easing the tension on her skull. She felt her locks cascading loose to her shoulders, nothing restraining them at all but the beaded bandeau threaded through them.
‘Does it?’ said Nikos softly.
Her hair was loose now, all the pins and grips discarded—presumably, she thought absently, on the carpet surrounding the divan. But the thought was vague, inchoate. Irrelevant in comparison with that oh-so-sinuous languor that was stealing over her.
Nikos’s fingers were still threading through her hair, softly smoothing her locks, gently kneading her scalp, just above her nape. Instinctively she dipped her head further, giving a little sigh of pleasure. She heard his low laugh again, felt his sensuously working fingertips move to the tops of her ears. Then, with another silvered quickening of her pulse, she felt his thumb idly tease at a lobe. A million quivers of sensation went through her. It felt so good...
There was a haze inside her, around her. Above, the stars were blazing in their glory, but she felt her eyelids dip, made a little sound in her throat.
As she did so, she felt Nikos’s hand stroke down her throat, its slender column caressed by his long, sensitive fingers. She felt her face being turned towards him, felt her eyelids fluttering open—to see him looking down at her.
And in his eyes, in the starlight, was what she could not deny.
Did not want to deny.
She said his name. Just his name. Breathed it like a sigh.
