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'We could stay here all afternoon and doze. Or would you rather walk back?'
'I'm quite happy to stay here,' she agreed.
He stretched Out his long legs, folding his arms beneath his blond head. 'Good.'
Leonie let her thoughts drift lazily, reviewing the events of the past few days. She wished she could remember all that had happened last night. What exactly had she said or done to make Paul believe she wanted him to stay with her? She shifted restlessly, dwelling on visions of herself begging him to make love to her. Thank God she had fallen asleep! She raised herself a little to look at Paul. He was fast asleep, his fair lashes shadowed on his tanned skin. He looked vulnerable and gentle like this, his mocking mouth still and relaxed, the brilliant blue eyes which could be so insolent and self-assured hidden under their white lids. Deep in the pit of her stomach an ache began and spread up through her body.
Oh, God, she thought despairingly, not that! I couldn't stand falling in love again. I won't expose myself to pain and bitterness again.
But her eyes continued to survey him hungrily, tracing the hard curve of his profile; the faint laughter lines ait mouth and eye, the strong jaw and straight nose, the way in which his lashes brushed his cheek, the fine moulding of the cheekbones, the golden hair just visible above his upper lip. The mouth itself fascinated her. It held such conflicting indications: the lower lip had a tight strength which the full, sensual upper lip defied and the shape of it was entirely dictated by the long, powerful jaw, giving it power and charm, a ruthless combination. The attraction of his face was not, she decided, so much in the colouring or shape of the features, but in the underlying bone structure.
His eyes suddenly lifted and looked straight into hers, his blue gaze searching her face intently. She looked away, terrified of revealing how she felt.
'Go to sleep, Leonie,' he said softly, after a long moment.
She lay down and composed herself for sleep, still shaking. But to her surprise she slowly slid into a deep dream-filled sleep. The dreams were all of Paul. Freed from shame or pride, she let herself explore the true depths of her feelings for him, and awoke with a reluctant jolt to find him still sleeping beside her, curled close to her back, one hand flung out towards her waist.
When she sat up he woke, too, yawned and said sleepily, 'Good heavens, look at the time ... we must get back to milk the goats before we eat dinner
.'
'Milk them again?' she cried in horror.
He laughed. 'Morning and evening. Didn't you realise?'
'A hotel in Paris looks more and. more attractive to me,' she returned lightly.
'I thought you were beginning to enjoy yourself,' he said reproachfully.
She smiled. 'I am! I was only teasing.'
'A dangerous game,' he said lightly, but with a
hidden but pointed meaning.
Leonie felt her cheeks grow pink. They walked back slowly in the cool of the evening. Paul told her old legends of the island, stories of satyrs, nymphs, amorous gods.
'It must be something in the air,' she said.
He grinned. 'More likely the retsina.'
Again she blushed. 'I wish you'd forget that!'
'How could I forget anything so delightful?' His teasing was brotherly, yet an undertone of something more intimate alarmed her.
Together they milked the goats. Their absent host had been to the house during their absence and removed most of the earlier milk and eggs, leaving them sufficient for the next day.
'Thank God for that,' Leonie sighed. 'I was beginning to be afraid we would have to bath in it soon.'
'Now that,' said Paul, 'is a marvellous idea.' He slid a glance over her. 'You're still quite pale in places—not that it shows.'
T thought I was getting very brown,' she said, looking at her arms and shoulders, which were tanning a lovely golden brown.
'You should have brought your bikini,' Paul suggested. 'Of course, you could always sunbathe in the nude.'
'I wouldn't want to shock Petros,' she returned.
'Never mind Petros,' he said easily.
